The Bedroom Business. Sandra Marton

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      “Never mind what it’s supposed to mean. I’m waiting to hear who you were phoning.”

      “Oh, for goodness sake!” She swung away, grabbed the magazine and shoved it into Jake’s flat belly. “You won’t be satisfied until you wring the truth out of me, will you? Okay. Okay, here’s the truth, McBride, and I hope you enjoy getting the last laugh.”

      She swung away from him, trembling with anger and humiliation. She could hear Jake reading the ads aloud in a soft, disbelieving voice. There was a long silence before he spoke again.

      “You were answering an ad in the personals?”

      “Yes.”

      “You were telling one of these men you’d go out with him?”

      “Yes.”

      “You were going to meet a stranger, an asshole who identifies himself as sexy, successful and handsome with…What in hell is Brrr and Brrr? A description of the weather? A new liqueur?”

      Emily spun around and faced Jake. Her eyes were huge, her face flushed, and he fought back the sudden, insane desire to take her in his arms and soothe her.

      “It’s brown hair and brown eyes,” she snarled. “And for your information, lots of people meet through ads like this.”

      “To do what?” Jake said, his eyes getting that narrowed, intense look again.

      “To—to go out. On a date. To have dinner together. Take in a movie. Just—just spend a little time with another person…”

      Her voice broke. Jake looked bewildered. She thought, for a second, he was reaching towards her and she shook her head and stepped back.

      “I don’t expect you to understand. You’re never home alone, unless you want to be. You never have to look at the calendar and say, look at that, it’s the weekend and I don’t have a thing to do except clean my apartment and wash my hair.”

      Holy hell, Jake thought.

      “That’s what this is all about?” he said slowly. “That you don’t date?”

      “That’s what I just said.”

      “You don’t have any, uh, any men in your life?”

      Emily’s chin lifted to a dangerous angle. “Are we going to have to go through this, line by line?”

      “So, that’s why you accepted Archer’s invitation last night? Because you’re lonely?”

      “I’m not lonely,” she said defiantly. “I have friends. Hobbies. I have a canary.”

      “You’re lonely,” he said. “That’s why you went out with that snake.”

      “Are you deaf, Mr. McBride? I am not…” Emily frowned. “You think he’s a snake?”

      “Of course.”

      “That’s what you’ve always thought?”

      “Yes.” Well, it was true if you figured “always” referred to yesterday evening, when Archer had sneaked up on Emily. “I tried to tell you that, but you wouldn’t listen.”

      “You didn’t try to tell me anything, except how to run my life.” She cocked her head. “Pete Archer said you and he are best friends.”

      “Ha.”

      “He said you’ve known each other forever.”

      “Only if forever means a year working for the same brokerage firm, a long time back.”

      Emily puffed out a breath. “He lied to me.” She looked at Jake. “You’re right, by the way. He is a snake.”

      Jake’s face darkened. “Did he—”

      “Oh, I can handle men like Pete Archer.” A smile ghosted across her lips. “When I was sixteen, one of my sisters dated a guy who was into karate. He taught me some great moves. I still remember them.”

      “Ah.” Jake moistened his lips. “Let me get this straight. You, uh, you’d like to date. To meet some nice guys and go out. Is that it?”

      What was the sense in trying to pretend otherwise? Jake McBride knew virtually everything about her now, from her shoe size to her sexless sex life.

      “Yes.”

      “Well.” He ran his hand through his hair again, turned away from her, paced back and forth, back and forth. “I’ve got it,” he said, and swung towards her. “I know a lot of people. Some of them are nice guys, too. I’ll introduce you.”

      “Oh, no. I couldn’t ask you to—”

      “You haven’t asked, I’ve volunteered. Look, it’s no big deal.”

      Emily collapsed into her chair. “What are you going to do,” she said, with a nervous laugh, “go to a meeting and say, ‘oh, by the way, my personal assistant would like to have a date this weekend’?”

      Jake grinned at her. “My executive assistant,” he said. “And I’ll be subtle, I promise. For instance…well, I go to lots of cocktail parties. Business stuff. From now on, you’ll go with me.”

      “Mr. McBride, really—”

      “I’ll introduce you as my good right hand, you’ll circulate, network…Emily, don’t look at me that way. It’ll work, I know it will.”

      “It won’t. I’m—I’m not good at this male-female thing, Mr. McBride.”

      “Jake.”

      “Jake,” she said, because it was silly, really, to go on with such formality now. “Look, I appreciate your offer but it’s pointless. I’ll feel ridiculous.”

      “More ridiculous than you’d have felt if you’d left your number on that answering machine?”

      Emily bit her lip. “Even if something came of it…For one thing, I don’t know how to make small talk. ”

      “There’s nothing to it. I’ll teach you.”

      “Yes, but…” She waved a hand. “It’s more than that. I don’t dress right. My sisters used to tell me I had no idea of style.”

      Jake took a step back, looked her over slowly from head to toe. “We can take care of that with ease.”

      “I don’t even know how to—” she blushed “—how to handle the, uh, the end of the evening thing.”

      “The…?” He colored. “Oh.”

      “Exactly. I mean, it was simple enough, last night. When your friend—”

      “Archer’s no friend of mine,” Jake said grimly.

      “The

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