burned her cheeks, robbed her of speech. Her gaze was riveted to the only part of his anatomy she’d been unable to properly peruse. Unable to control herself, her lips curled into an appreciative smile.
She’d been right.
He was definitely well proportioned.
3
“FLASHING HER, that’s a direct approach. Little forward if you aren’t going to seduce her.” Ron licked his forefinger, leaned forward and smoothed his eyebrows, then stood back and admired his Fonzie-like reflection. “Myself personally, I like to woo a woman.”
“Woo?”
“Yes, woo. It’s all part of the chase, the thrill of the hunt.”
“This is a woman, Ron. Not an elk, for chrissakes.” Dropping into the desk chair in his brother’s room, Nick exhaled wearily and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He shuddered to think of what Ron considered wooing. A trip through a drive-thru, then back to his place to show off his lava lamp collection?
“So what’s she look like? She a hottie?”
A cloud of dark-chocolate hair, kiss-me mossy-green eyes, smooth skin and a mouth designed for sin flashed through Nick’s mind. The hair, the eyes and the skin were pleasing to look at, not remarkable on their own. But the mouth that tied it all together… Damn.
“She’s attractive,” Nick managed, feeling a telltale tightening in his groin.
Ron nodded, apparently satisfied with Nick’s assessment. “So, did you sense any interest? She hot for you yet?”
“She’s interested,” Nick said casually.
And though he had no intention of taking advantage of the situation, she was most definitely hot for him.
Out of all the uncertainties surrounding this scheme, Nick didn’t have a doubt about that one fact. She’d practically devoured him with her eyes. That bold green gaze had inventoried every inch of his exposed flesh…and then some.
Nick took care of his body, worked out regularly. He wasn’t ignorant of his build and the resulting effect it had on women. He’d been covertly studied before. But he’d never been so intensely scrutinized. Never felt a woman’s gaze like that.
Furthermore, when his towel had come off, she’d made no pretense of turning away. Her gaze had dropped to his male equipment, lingered, then she’d had the audacity to smile.
Appreciatively.
Nick found himself equally intrigued and baffled. Baffled because, while he’d gone into her room to set things into motion, he’d been the one knocked for a loop. He’d demonstrated an appalling lack of control, something he never permitted himself to do. Something that mustn’t happen again.
Ron grunted as he shoved a foot into his boot, pulling Nick from his reverie. “Listen, if you find anything out tonight that might be helpful, give me a call no matter what time. Keep me posted. I—I need to know what’s happening, okay? This is my future we’re trying to protect.”
“Sure,” Nick said, frowning at the desperation in Ron’s tone. Ron was very adept at playing him, Nick knew, but he seemed genuinely worried this time. Who knew with Ron? It could only be wishful thinking. “But I seriously doubt anything will happen tonight. We’re just meeting for drinks.”
Ron’s brow furrowed. “Whatever. Just call me. I’m meeting Cindy, but should be back by ten.”
“Cindy?”
Ron smiled. “The check-in clerk. I’m giving her some free samples.”
Nick’s brows rose. On that note, he decided to take his leave. He stood. Desiree had said she’d be back by eight, and it was pushing that now. “I’m gone,” Nick told him, heading for the door.
“Work your magic, big brother.” He paused, giving Nick a small glimpse of Ron’s more vulnerable side. “I’ve got a lot riding on this.”
That last statement lacked Ron’s trademark bravado and, for the first time, Nick detected a hint of fear in his brother’s voice. Ron was genuinely afraid of losing this business. Fear was the beginning of wisdom. Given that, perhaps the end would justify the means.
Nick fervently hoped so.
“MR. KENT will be arriving tomorrow. He rarely attends these trade shows, but he’s very anxious to meet you.”
“I’m looking forward to meeting him as well,” Meg murmured. Marcus Kent, the senior editor for Foreplay magazine, had recently decided to personally handle Desiree Moon’s reviews. They had communicated via e-mail and telephone, but had never met in person.
“Do you have everything you need?” Ann Dolan, Marcus’s assistant asked. “Everything in your room to your liking?” She smiled. “You’re our star, you know. I was told to keep you happy.”
Meg laughed. “I’m happy and I have everything I need, thank you.”
“Good.” Ann sighed. “Well, we’ve covered your schedule, outlined your workshop. I think we’ve done everything we were supposed to do.” She quirked a brow. “Would you like to go to the lounge and get a drink?”
Meg hesitated. She nudged up her sleeve and checked her watch. “Er, actually I’m supposed to meet someone.”
Ann’s eyes widened. “Oh, of course,” she said knowingly. “You brought Antonio. Naturally, you would. Duh.” Ann popped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “This is a trade show. You’re here to critique. How else would you…well, you know?”
“I, uh—”
She nodded approvingly. “Mr. Kent will like that,” Ann confided. “The majority of our critics are women. He’s been very interested in getting a fresh hetero male perspective. I’m supposed to call in tonight with a report. I’ll be sure and let him know that you brought your partner with you. He’s been anxious to meet the legendary Antonio,” she shared with a droll smile. “We all have.”
Meg’s insides froze. Antonio? The fictitious Antonio? “Well,” Meg faltered, “I’m not sure that my, uh— That Antonio would be comfortable talking about our—”
“Oh, don’t worry about that. Mr. Kent will put him right at ease. He has a way of doing that.”
That would be fine, Meg thought, if she had an Antonio to put at ease! How on earth would she get out of this mess? She’d have to think of something, and quick. The man would be here tomorrow, expecting to meet her…and dear old Antonio. Dread mushroomed inside her. Her dinner—which she’d enjoyed—curdled in her stomach.
“Well, I won’t keep you,” Ann told her, standing. She drew her purse from the back of the chair. “I’m sure you’re anxious to get upstairs and, er, get started.”
Meg managed a weak goodbye. Her mind whirled. Actually, she had been anxious to get back upstairs so that she could wait for Nick. But now… Now, she had a mess to deal with. It had never occurred to her that she would need to bring a partner, that they would expect her to have
