Those Baby Blues

by Sheridon Smythe

  "So he fires them when he's finished."

  Treet shrugged. “He's not a nice guy ... at first. But then Zoey comes along."

  "Challenging him."

  "Intriguing him,” Treet corrected. “Changing him,” he added more seriously.

  "So Russell falls for Zoey—or thinks he does. The plot thickens. Tell me more."

  "Frank doesn't react the way Zoey planned, and her attraction grows for Russell. Since she seems determined not to sleep with him, Russell changes his strategy and begins to romance Zoey—something she's missed with Frank."

  "Zoey falls in love, and in the end she can't betray Russell,” Hadleigh guessed.

  "Right. But Russell, who is falling in love with Zoey, finds out she's a spy before she can tell him the truth. He believes everything she's said and done with him is an act."

  "Go on,” Hadleigh prompted when he paused.

  Treet smiled and shook his head. “What, and spoil the ending for you?"

  "You can't leave me hanging!” Hadleigh's dismay wasn't feigned. When he remained stubbornly quiet, Hadleigh tried a different tactic. “Okay, so it's a good plot—although not exactly original, and I can see how it could be comedic."

  "But?"

  "But what sets this movie apart from any other?"

  "The sizzling sexual tension between Russell and Zoey."

  "Oh.” Hadleigh swallowed hard as she absorbed his shocking words, spoken with unbelievable casualness. Very unbelievable. The sudden, strong urge to run hit her. She actually took a few stumbling steps backward.

  Then she stopped, torn between the absurdity of her suspicion, and the tiny—and she meant tiny—possibility that she was right.

  He'd set her up.

  No, he couldn't have.

  He could not have invented an entire movie script just to—to—

  Ridiculous. Enormously conceited of her. No man went to that kind of trouble just to get close to a woman. Treet could have just about any woman, although he had assured her he wanted no other. She wasn't foolish or immature enough to believe him.

  Of course not.

  She held her ground and pushed her cowardice aside. “So let's get started.” She thought she heard a muffled sigh escape him, but when she shot him a sharp glance, she decided she must have been mistaken. He was frowning thoughtfully at the script in his hands.

  "I've made you a copy of the first scene, and highlighted your lines. You don't have to worry about actions or characteristics—unless the urge hits you. I'll tell you what to do."

  "Every man's dream,” she murmured sarcastically.

  "You got that right,” he murmured back, his eyes warm with amusement. “Okay, in the first scene, Zoey applies for the job as secretary. She knows that Russell is a womanizer, and knows that she has to look attractive enough for him to want to hire her. She's basically planning to lead him in circles."

  "What's she wearing?” Hadleigh wasn't sure what prompted the question, but judging by Treet's startled look, she'd surprised him as well as herself.

  "She's wearing a white blouse and a short black skirt. High heels—black—and black hose. She enters the office with a flirty walk that instantly gets Russell's attention."

  Hadleigh's mouth went dry. “Should I try it?"

  Treet shrugged. Who was he to argue? “Sure, if you're game.” He pulled a chair in front of the fire, then led Hadleigh a few yards away before returning to his chair. “Pretend this is my office, and you're coming through the door."

  This is where it gets fun, Hadleigh thought. Her stomach fluttered with nervous excitement as she silently read Zoey's lines highlighted in pink. One line, one simple little line. Surely she could do it?

  Taking a deep breath, Hadleigh pretended to open a door and step through. She sauntered toward Treet, swinging her hips seductively. “Hi. I'm Zoey Kraft, and I'm here to apply for the secretarial position,” she said in a throaty voice.

  She could tell by the slight flaring of Treet's eyes that she'd surprised him again. But he didn't comment. Instead, he took his time looking her over, his slow, sexy appraisal making her heart beat faster.

  Just a rehearsal, girl. Calm down.

  When he rose from his chair and circled his imaginary desk to stand before her, Hadleigh caught her breath. Perhaps just as the real Zoey might have done when faced with such pure male appreciation. And hopefully if Treet noticed, he'd believe that she was merely playing the part.

  He made a slow, thorough circle around her, as if she were a love slave on the auction block. She forced herself to remain still when what she really wanted to do was fidget.

  Finally he faced her again. Without taking his eyes from hers, Treet reached out and unbuttoned the top three buttons of Hadleigh's shirt, folding back the lapels until her cleavage was exposed. The faint scrape of his knuckles against her skin made her knees go weak.

  She was wearing pleated khaki shorts that hit her about mid-thigh instead of the short skirt Zoey would be wearing, but after Treet finished ogling her, she felt completely naked. Not Treet; Russell.

  "Now you look like a secretary,” he said. Or Russell said. Without looking at the script, she couldn't be sure that was an actual line. So she had to assume it was.

  Treet glanced pointedly at the script she held. She quickly read the next highlighted line. “Does this mean I get the job?” she asked, injecting a hopeful note into her voice.

  Again Treet looked surprised. He quickly masked it, returning to his playful, I'm-so-sexy attitude. “Yeah, babe ... if you pass the Russell Linuchi test."

  Hadleigh was proud to speak the next line without looking again. Not that it was much. “The test? What—what test would that be, Mr. Linuchi?” Stumbling over her words fit the part perfectly. Only she hadn't been acting.

  "I'm going to kiss you. Stand perfectly still. When I'm finished, you shrug and say, ‘not bad'."

  "Russell doesn't actually tell me—her—that he's going to kiss her, does he?"

  "No, he doesn't. Ready?"

  She managed a convincing shrug. “Go ahead.” She saw a flash of his white teeth before his mouth met hers. He'd told her to stand still, but it wasn't easy. Her body wanted to lean into him, feel him against her. Her arms wanted to circle his neck and pull him in, deepen the kiss.

  In her opinion, Treet was more intoxicating than liquor.

  Just when she didn't think she could ‘act’ any longer, he broke the kiss. She licked her lips, scrambling for her line. “Um, not bad.” When he remained silent, she consulted the script in her hand, aware that her cheeks were burning. “But you could use a little practice."

  "Then we'll practice—over dinner tonight."

  "So I've got the job?"

  "Maybe. I hate to make decisions on an empty stomach."

  Hadleigh couldn't resist. She shook her head. “Russell really is a jerk, isn't he?"

  Treet laughed at her chagrined expression. “Yes, babe, he is. That's what makes it so great when he really does fall in love. He doesn't know what hits him until he's in bed with Laura and can't get it up."

  "Who's Laura?"

  "One of his girlfriends.” Treet's lips twitched. “One of three."

  "You're kidding."

  "No. He's a regular, all-around stud."

  Stud was an understatement. Oversexed came closer to the truth. “Three girlfriends and they don't have a clue about each other?"

  "He never invites them to his condo. Claims he lives with his invalid mother. Imagine his surprise when he finds out Zoey really does live with her invalid mother."

  "I don't think I like Russell,” Hadleigh blurted out.

  "You're not supposed to like him. In fact, you really can't stand him at first..."

  "I can't imagine ever liking him."

  "Oh, but you will. You will. Russell can be quite romantic when he wants to."

  Suddenly, Treet cupped her head and brought her in for another sizzling kiss. He broke away just long enough to whisper, “On second thou
ght, I've got ten minutes to blow."

  "Does he really say that?” Hadleigh whispered, more than a little breathless.

  "Yes, he does. Then he kisses her again and again. Zoey tries her best to keep an image of Frank in her head, but after a few minutes, she begins to really get into kissing him back."

  "Do—do we have to do that? Can't we just skip—?"

  But Treet was shaking his head, his mouth still temptingly close to hers. “I have to get to know Russell inside and out. Acting out his every move is the only way."

  Since Hadleigh knew next to nothing about acting, she couldn't argue. Besides, she really didn't want to—did she? She was helping Treet. Who was she kidding? This was nothing more than a license to be naughty!

  "Treet,” she whispered as he nibbled at the corners of her mouth. His hand against the nape of her neck sent delicious shivers down her spine. “I don't think I can do—"

  "Zoey, Zoey. Relax. We're just getting to know one another better."

  Hadleigh, lost in the sensations he was creating, stiffened at the sound of another woman's name on his lips—until she remembered that she was supposed to be another woman. Silently chiding herself, she angled her chin down so that she could see the script. Treet—er, Russell—continued to feather her face with sizzling kisses, steadily working his way to her neck. Her voice was husky as she read her next line, “We'll have plenty of time to get to know one another later, won't we?” Her gaze dropped down to the next line of the script. Her eyes widened with incredulity. “Surely he doesn't—"

  Strong, warm hands suddenly cupped her bottom and pulled her flush against his arousal. And he was most definitely aroused, which immediately prompted the squeaky, breathless question, “Do you always get—get—"

  "No,” Treet said, his voice muffled against her neck. “Like you, I'm having trouble concentrating on the part. It would help if you stuck to your lines and stopped reminding me that you're not really Julia Roberts."

  Not in a million years could Hadleigh have kept from laughing at his outrageous remark. “Yeah, right!"

  He lifted his head and looked at her. “Are you attracted to the President?"

  "I've never met him."

  "Well, I've never met Julia Roberts. Just because she's a star doesn't mean I'm automatically attracted to her."

  He had a point, a legitimate one, too, but Hadleigh still found it hard to accept the compliment at face value. He was a movie star, Julia Roberts was a movie star—not to mention gorgeous. Despite the mind-blowing proof pressing warmly against her belly, she simply could not believe it. He'd probably been thinking about Julia Roberts, she decided.

  "And I wasn't thinking about anyone but you."

  Hadleigh's jaw dropped at his uncanny perception.

  "So get that out of your head."

  He sighed, and the sound of it melted her heart. It couldn't be easy being who he was. Okay, she would give him that much. With extreme concentration, she forced her breathing back to normal and reminded herself Treet was simply playing a part, just as she was. She was Zoey Kraft, a woman in love with a man who ignored her, in the arms of a man who needed to be soundly slapped.

  A man who was clutching her buttocks as if he would never let her go. An aroused man who claimed that she was the reason for his state of ... excitement. A man who even sounded a little disgusted with himself for not keeping his mind on his business.

  Okay. She could do this. She really could. If Treet could do it, then she could do it. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at her next line. “So, Mr. Linuchi, I see the rumors about you are true.” Lordy, she'd thought the same thing about Treet the first—no, second—time they were alone in a closet.

  "Ha, ha. You ain't seen nothing yet, honey. It gets much bigger.” He let out a low, sexy growl and nipped at her neck.

  Hadleigh swallowed a giggle—not Zoey's, her own. “Oh, you are a big boy,” she practically purred, lifting the script up behind his back so that she could read over his shoulder. Good thing he had a firm grip on her butt—her bones had turned to liquid. She'd bet Julia Roberts had better control!

  But then, Julia had yet to find herself in Treet's arms.

  The thought made her frown. She quickly pushed it from her mind, glancing at Treet's next move just in time to brace herself.

  He brought one hand up to cup her breast, squeezing gently. “Are these real?” he breathed.

  "Well,” Hadleigh—Zoey—managed to sputter around a gasp, “That's for me to know and you to find out."

  "When?” Treet—Russell—demanded, rubbing her nipple with his thumb.

  Seriously, Hadleigh thought, nearly buckling against him, did he have to be so detailed? Couldn't he just pretend? Ejecting an admirable note of coyness into her voice, Hadleigh said, “If I told you, it would spoil the surprise, now wouldn't it? Let's just say that I'm worth the wait."

  She was totally fooled by his sudden crestfallen expression. He looked exactly like a naughty, thwarted boy. Damn, he was good. But then, she knew that, didn't she?

  "I have to wait? How long?"

  Improvising, Hadleigh used her free hand to tip-toe her fingers along his arm. She glanced at him, then quickly lowered her eyes. “Oh, I don't know. I'm the kind of girl that really likes to get to know a guy before I get down and dirty.” Her finger landed on his lips. She lowered her voice to a sultry whisper. “And believe me, I can get down and dirty."

  It was a long, measuring moment before Treet spoke. If she didn't know better, she might think he'd forgotten his lines.

  "Can I at least get a sample?"

  After consulting the script, Hadleigh shook her head and sighed. She uncurled his hand from her breast, and stepped out of his hold. “I'm sorry, Mr. Linuchi. If we're going to have dinner later, then I definitely want to keep my appointment with my hair stylist. Where shall I meet you?"

  He made a grab for her, but she danced out of reach. She nearly choked on laughter at his leering expression. It was so not like the man she knew. She could almost believe he was Russell Linuchi.

  "I think this is where your phone rings,” she told him. Her breast still tingled from his touch. Thank God the scene had come to an end.

  Like someone coming out of a daze, Treet blinked and shook his head. He smiled, his warm gaze lingering on her exposed cleavage. “Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

  Hadleigh self-consciously folded her arms over her chest. “No. I just hope the director knows what he's doing. It won't be easy redeeming Russell."

  "If it was easy, then it wouldn't be a good script.” Treet stretched his arms above his head, drawing her attention to the rippling muscles in his chest.

  She swallowed hard. “There's just something not quite right with this scene, though. Somehow, I don't think Zoey would let a complete stranger maul her like that."

  "Don't forget, Zoey wasn't as repulsed by his touch as she thought she would be. Besides, she has to get the job."

  "Don't tell me she sleeps with him?"

  He lifted an amused brow at her shocked question. “No, she doesn't sleep with him. At least not right away. But to keep his interest she has to do a lot of teasing and promising.” His voice suddenly dropped, sending prickly tremors dancing down her spine. “You were great, by the way. Ever thought about acting?"

  "Thanks, and no, I haven't. And I'm not interested. I'll leave that to experts like yourself."

  "Was that a compliment?” As he spoke, he began to close the distance.

  Hadleigh resisted the urge to inch back. He looked so purposeful ... intent. “Yeah, I guess it was. But then you don't need me to tell you how great you are.” She caught her breath as he stopped in front of her.

  And held it as he began to fasten the buttons of her shirt. Whether deliberate or by accident, he managed to touch a lot of her skin in the process.

  "Maybe I do need you to tell me,” he said seriously. “Your opinion matters a lot to me."

  It was suddenly tense and airless between them. Her li
ps parted. “I can't imagine why."

  "Can't you?” He pulled her slowly toward him. “Are you ever going to face what's happening to us?"

  "Lust is nothing new to either of us.” It was new to her, but he didn't have to know that. “Besides, Treet, you know how I feel about getting ... involved. The girls—"

  "What if we fall in love?"

  What if she fell in love and he didn't? Now that was the all-important question Hadleigh didn't want to find out. She decided to be as honest as she could. “What if you did think you were in love? How could you be sure it wasn't because of Sam?"

  He frowned, apparently confused. “What does our falling in love have to do with Sam?"

  Hadleigh hesitated, then plunged recklessly ahead. “Falling in love with me would mean you could have Caroline and Sam."

  He looked totally shocked by her words. But then, she had seen for herself just how convincing Treet could be. Only moments ago he was a leering creep of a playboy whose single-minded thought was how quickly he could get his potential new secretary out of her clothes. He'd been so good at it she had wanted to get naked with him.

  Not that he had to be good to get her to that point. Hell, a look, a touch, a tiny kiss and she was putty in his hands.

  Finally, he recovered enough to throw her words back at her. “You would have the same advantage, or haven't you thought of that?"

  "That's just it. How could either of us trust ourselves at this point in time? I don't want to leave Caroline now that I've met her, and you don't want to part with Sam. Am I right?” She didn't bother waiting for him to nod; it was obvious he adored Sam. “It would be too convenient for us to fall in love. It would be just as sad to find out later that we were only fooling ourselves."

  The frown was back. “This is all conjecture. You're saying we should fight this amazingly strong attraction, and our own instincts, just in case we're conjuring them up because of subconscious motives we aren't even aware of?” He shook his head, a wry smile on his sexy mouth. “You're something else, you know that?"

  "But I could be right.” And that was the scary part. She was a coward, and didn't want to find out that she was right.