“Has it been tested on people or dummies?”
“People.”
“Were the people dummies?”
How he loved when she made him laugh. “No.”
“Did their hair still look the same afterward?”
“No. It looked better.”
“All right, but I’m warning you...”
“Cyndi, please trust me.”
Her jaw hardened and she nodded.
He walked behind her, reached over to the wall and plugged in the cord. “First off, let’s get your hair a little damp.”
He grabbed the water bottle and sprayed her light brunette hair. She raised her hands to block the mist from getting in her eyes. After he’d completed his task, he brought the new contraption over and flipped on the button.
As he played with her hair, the scent of her strawberry shampoo drifted upward, swirling around his senses. Even the hint of berry-scented perfume she liked to wear excited him. Beneath his fingers, the warmth of her skin sparked something inside him.
He smiled. She was nothing like his ex. Cyndi actually cared about people, and he dreamed of the time she would care deeply about him.
Like most women, she probably suspected he’d never settle down—like good ‘ole Max Harrington. Inwardly, he growled. Out of the two men, he would settle down sooner than playboy Harrington.
With the threat of Max looming over his head, his chest tightened. Why hadn’t he worked faster in trying to get Cyndi to like him? Would it matter to her now since she’d set her sights on Max? Damien doubted it since she’d been in love with Max since high school.
He couldn’t give up. Charming her would be different from the other ladies. He must become her friend first to gain her trust.
He didn’t want to see Cyndi hurt, and he’d do anything to protect her. But what if his old college buddy had changed? What if Max wasn’t the womanizer he’d been back then?
Silently cursing, he gripped the blow dryer harder. Cyndi had been on his mind for quite some time whether she knew it or not. He liked the way she looked at him when she stepped out of her townhouse, pretending she didn’t see him with another woman. And the way she turned her cute little nose up as if it didn’t bother her. Especially those times he could make her laugh.
She’d grown on him, and he enjoyed the feeling budding inside of him. How could he make her feel the same way about him? If she’d been the least bit interested, she would have succumbed to his flirtations. She would have gone out with him by now.
His heart sank. Once again, a woman picked Mr. Blond Hair and Blue Eyes. Once again, they picked Max. Torture...that was the word to describe all of this.
Damien’s chest ached knowing he wouldn’t be the one to hold her or feel her lips against his. His stomach clenched and so did his fingers in her hair. Cyndi let out a whimper and he loosened his grip. “Did I hurt you?”
“Just a tiny bit. It’s okay now.” She moved in her seat, her shoulders relaxing.
Damien rubbed his forehead, hoping to relieve the pounding in his skull. Thinking about Cyndi eased the pressure, and although he didn’t want to help her win Max, he did want to see her happy.
Would the sportsman really make her happy? Several years ago he and Max parted ways as enemies, and Damien had wanted revenge against the low-life. Revenge wasn’t an issue any longer, but saving Cyndi from another heartache was. Would she understand or would she think he only wanted her because of what happened back then? Mr. Sportsman would definitely think wanting Cyndi was done out of vengeance.
Damien was stuck because he’d offered to help. He’d make sure Max wouldn’t use Cyndi. If it looked as if his former friend was up to his tricks again, he’d barge in and save the damsel in distress. He’d be the Prince Charming in her fairytale.
The mere idea nearly made him want to laugh out loud, but he bit his bottom lip and kept the humor inside. That’s exactly what he’d do. Then, at the right moment, he’d confess his feelings for her and hope she didn’t hate him. What could go wrong with a great plan like that?
HOT CHOCOLATE STEAMED in the foam cup sitting on her desk as Cyndi kept her attention glued to Max’s office. She prayed he wouldn’t take his stainless steel coffee cup into the meeting. He couldn’t. Then what would she do?
When eight-thirty neared, Max pushed away from his desk and picked up his notepad and pen. He stood and stopped, glancing back at his desk.
She held her breath. Don’t take it!
Within seconds, he turned and walked out of his office without his cup.
She released a pent-up sigh.
“Amanda,” he called out. “I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.”
Cyndi’s redheaded friend nodded, her eyes glued to the small television on her desk, watching a national news flash. Amanda’s fingers gripped the pencil tight as she wrote notes.
Cyndi waited until eight-thirty-five before she made her move. Acting as if it was an everyday occurrence for her to walk with a cup of hot chocolate in her hand, she smiled, trying to steady her wobbly legs. She continued into Max’s office and closed the door. She quickly slipped off the second foam cup she’d put underneath the first, and disposed of Max’s coffee. Then she poured the hot chocolate into his stainless steel cup. Placing the now empty cup underneath the full one, she opened the door and casually sauntered back to her desk as if nothing happened.
She scanned the room for anyone throwing curious stares her way. Surprisingly, nobody questioned her or even lifted a brow. She’d actually pulled it off! Of course, now she’d have to sit and wait until he drank it, and that would be the hardest part.
The clock on her desk ticked by as if it were in slow motion. She kept checking to make sure the batteries were working and realized the hands still moved. Ten minutes passed with her limbs shaking uncontrollably.
She wrung her hands and watched the conference room down the hall. When the door opened, her breathing accelerated. Max stepped out and she thought her racing heart would kill her.
Taking deep and steady breaths, she tried to remain calm. Max walked into his room and sat behind his computer. He flipped open the notebook and glanced at the pages. His hand moved toward the cup.
She inhaled...and held it.
As he continued to read, his fingers drummed on the side of the cup.
Drink it!
Finally, he picked up the cup and brought it to his mouth. Her own lips puckered as if trying to help him. He sipped.
Within seconds, he choked and spit out the liquid, spewing it across his desk. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. Taking off the lid, he peered inside and sniffed. His curse whipped through the air from across the room.
Oh dear! He’s upset.
He jumped away from his desk and grabbed the drink, hurrying down the hall toward the break room, his eyes wide, his face losing color.
Why did he look so panicked? Had he choked? Did he need help this very minute?
Now that he had digested the chemical, she needed to put herself in Max’s way. She wanted to be the first person Max saw when the chemical began working. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be mad when she saw him.
She pushed away from her desk and tried not to run down the hall. Slowing her steps, she took her time, stopping at Amanda’s desk, but her friend was busy on the phone. When Amanda looked up, Cyndi smiled and continued on.
Her legs shook the closer she walked to the break room. Her hand trembled when she reached out and opened the door. Then she froze. Max leaned over the sink splashing water on his face—a face that looked too puffy to be his.
He turned and gazed her way, his lips now swollen and losing color. She gasped, ran to him, and grabbed his arm.
He coughed. “Call 9-1-1.”
“Max? What’s wrong?”
“I’m...allergic to...chocolate.”
The blood left her head, and the room tilted around her. Her heart sank.
What have I done?
Four
&nbs
p; She could have killed Max.
Cyndi paced the floor in her front room, biting down on her lip. Her temper threatened to release at any moment like a volcano spewing hot lava. It was all Damien’s fault. If he hadn’t suggested switching the drinks, none of this would have happened. Yet, she was the one who asked for his help, wasn’t she?
She grumbled loudly. She hated feeling this confused.
Threading her fingers through her hair, she lifted the bulk off her shoulders. Although her skin was hot, cool air touched her neck. She marched to the thermostat on the wall. Oops, she’d forgotten to turn up the heat. But right now it didn’t matter.
She huffed and turned around. The box of chocolates from the other day still sat on her end table, untouched. Her heart lodged in her throat and tears threatened. Why didn’t anything go as planned?
The knock at the door made her jump, and she spun around, glowering at the barrier as if it were something evil. When another knock sounded, she marched over and flung it open.
The man in front of her—who looked as muscular as Adonis—grinned. She glared at him. “It didn’t work, Damien.”
The light in his gray eyes diminished and his smile disappeared. “What do you mean it didn’t work?”
“Just what I said.” With a sharp turn, she moved away and continued her pacing across the living room floor.
Damien came in, closed the door, and strode to the couch. When he sat, his relaxed position and nonchalant attitude made her clench her teeth. The red cotton polo-style shirt stretched across his wide chest, and black corduroys fit his tranquil posture too perfectly.
She folded her arms across her bosom. “Why didn’t you tell me Max was allergic to chocolate?”
Stretching his arm along the back of the sofa, he tilted his head and looked at her. “What are you talking about?”
“Max is allergic to chocolate,” she said slower and pointed to the box of chocolates. “That’s the reason he didn’t eat any yesterday.”
“Really?” His voice lifted.
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
His eyes widened. “Honestly, Cyndi, I didn’t know.” He shrugged. “I thought everyone liked chocolate.”
She stopped in front of him, moving her hands to her hips. “Yeah, well...he’s allergic.”
His brows knit together. “And I tell you again, I didn’t know.”
“But you were his friend.”
“I don’t remember him being allergic to anything while we were friends in college.”
The tone of his voice came out harsh. She cringed, cursing her quick temper. It really wasn’t his fault. He’d only been trying to help.
She exhaled deeply and plopped down beside him on the couch. His hand moved to her neck and massaged her tight muscles. Stiffening, her first reaction was to push him away, but his fingers quickly soothed away her anger. Second by second, her muscles relaxed, and she tilted her head forward to let his magical fingers do their work. Although he relieved some of the stress in her body, the havoc in her mind wouldn’t rest.
Why couldn’t she get anything right? She’d messed up from the very beginning. Why was Damien suddenly being a sweet guy when just last week she’d been judging him harshly? Life wasn’t fair.
“Damien, I could have killed him. His face swelled up like a balloon and lost all color.” Her voice broke, and she fought the remorse trying to consume her. Guilt spread through her chest, making it hard to breathe...at least that’s what she thought was the reason for the tightness in her chest. It couldn’t be that her gorgeous neighbor was just a little too close, his touch a little too personal.
She sniffed. “How am I supposed to win his heart if I make him sick?”
Damien tenderly squeezed her shoulder. This incredible alpha-male was actually sitting beside her, trying to comfort her. He wasn’t to blame for Max’s unfortunate accident with the chocolate. A tear slipped down her cheek and she wiped it away.
“Hey,” he said. “Come here.”
She glanced at him just in time to have him wrap her in a tight hug. Once again, she stiffened, ready to resist, but when her cheek pressed against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heart relaxed her. Her traitorous body had a mind of its own and slumped against him. But then, being cuddled by this big, strong Italian wasn’t that bad...was it?
“Don’t worry, mí amore, we won’t mess up the next one.”
“What should I do now?”
“Does he know you were the one who replaced the drinks?”
“No.”
“Keep it that way.”
She lifted her head and peered into his dark eyes. Up this close, she detected the mint scent in his breath, as if he’d just gargled. “Don’t worry. I’m not stupid enough to announce my mistake.”
His fingers stroked her cheek. The softness in his eyes confused her. Why was he looking at her like that? Certainly different from the come-hither stare he’d always given her. The look soothed her, and her heart cried out for more.
Realizing where her thoughts had wandered, she pulled away. Damien was not the man she wanted to feel this way about. She only wanted a man who could commit to marriage and family.
“How is Max doing now?” he asked, reaching over to the end table and taking a piece of chocolate from the box then plopping it in his mouth.
“The paramedics gave him a shot before rushing him to the hospital. Everything must have been fine, because he came back to the office a few hours later. But Fran sent him home to recover.”
“I’m sorry.”
The genuine concern in his gray eyes thawed her heart and removed her anger. Her throat choked with a sob. Crying like a baby seemed like a good idea, but she blinked, fighting the tears. She shook her head. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you.”
He grabbed another chocolate. “Here, eat this. It’ll make you feel better.”
She tried not to smile, but the corner of her mouth tugged upward. How did he know chocolate made her happy?
He brought the piece of candy close to her mouth as if wanting to feed her. Automatically, she started to open her mouth before it hit her to what he was doing. Allow a man to feed her like that was being way too personal. No way could she do that with him.
Heat consumed her, warming her face considerably. She quickly snatched the piece of candy before she was tempted to open her mouth and let him feed her.
Damien leaned back in the couch. “But now we need to do something else to get him to notice you.”
“Can’t you just fix us up on a blind date? After all, you are friends.”
He shook his head. “No, we were friends.”
“Why aren’t you friends any longer?”
“Let’s just say we didn’t keep in touch after college.”
“But couldn’t you just—”
“Cyndi, it’d look better if you attracted him on your own. Besides, guys don’t like to interfere with their friends’ relationships. That’s a woman’s job.”
She scowled. But he was right. Guys didn’t do things like that. She relaxed into the cushion. “Okay, then, whatever I do to get his attention can’t be something that might hurt him.”
He chuckled. “No, we won’t do that. We’ll do something on that list of yours. What’s the next way to win a man?”
She shrugged. “I’m a little stumped on this one.”
“Why?”
“I’m supposed to get him a hard-to-find gift.”
“Hmm...” He scratched his chin, his gaze moving around the room. Then it stopped and his eyes widened. “I have it.”
“You do? So soon?”
“Yes. This is perfect.” He leaned toward her and clasped her hands. “You’ll get him a plant.”
She drew her brows together. “A plant?” She curled her lips in distaste. “Why a plant?” Men don’t like plants, do they? Then she remembered the plants decorating Damien’s front room. But men who have plants nurtured them, cared, and loved them s
o they wouldn’t die. Damien didn’t seem the type of man who’d do something like this. His plants looked too well cared for to be just a work experiment.
“What do you usually buy people who are in the hospital?” he asked. “Don’t you get them flowers?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I’m certain Mr. Sports Anchorman wouldn’t go for flowers, so I’m suggesting a plant.”
Cyndi hesitated, biting her lower lip. “And guys like plants, right?”
He cocked his head, his stare still holding hers. “Does he live alone?”
“Yes, as far as I know.”
“Then he’ll probably need something to decorate his apartment. Look at my townhouse. The plants brighten up the place. I’ve studied a lot about plants due to the inventions of GIO Products, and I’ve learned that they do more than just decorate. Some actually send off a scent that will make a person feel better.”
“Promise?”
“Yes.”
“But I have to get him a hard-to-find gift. Plants aren’t that hard to find.”
He nodded. His finger tapped against the cute little dimple in his chin. “Then don’t get him just an ordinary plant. Get him a tropical plant.”
She lifted her brows. “A tropical plant? That sounds good.”
“I know exactly where you can find one. There’s this little shop in the center of Main Street that’ll be perfect. If they don’t have what you’re looking for, they’ll order one for you.” He stood and held out his hand. “Shall we go?”
She grinned. Should I go with him? It was strange how quickly he came sneaking into her life. Right now he acted like her best friend. But finding a plant for Max was something she wanted to do on her own.
Sighing heavily, she shook her head. “I can do this myself, but thanks for the offer anyway.”
He shrugged. “If that’s how you want it.” His hand dropped to his side, his smile falling with it.
Her heart twisted. She’d hurt his feelings, and although they were still new friends, she didn’t want it to be over so soon. She jumped to her feet and reached for his hand, grasping it. “Don’t be upset with me.”
Her Own Fairy Godmother Page 5
