and he narrowed his eyes, enjoying it.
“The Most Eligible Bachelors of TriTerraCorp. What a good idea. These pictures are priceless.”
“Aren’t they great? The office hunks. Sherry did the graphics on her computer. She’s an artist at this stuff.”
Michael softly slid the book back into place on the shelf, cursing himself for his involuntary reaction. He still had goose bumps, and it was just a voice, after all. The woman probably looked like a tree gnome.
And, anyway, it didn’t matter if she did or she didn’t. He’d promised himself a woman-free trip this time. He’d spent too much time dating interchangeable lovelies ever since his marriage had crumbled into the dust and left him grasping for a new focus to his life. Wine, women and song were never the answer to that problem—though it sometimes took a while to get that through thick heads like his.
“Ignore the voice,” he muttered softly to himself, frowning as he tried to remember what he was looking for on the bookshelf.
But there it was again.
“You’ve even got Greg Holstein,” she was recounting. “He looks so cute in that lion suit! And Andy Martinez from Security as a trapeze artist. Sherry, this is a hoot.”
He swallowed hard. This was really strange. Her voice did something to him. It was almost the way a tuning fork resonated as it caught a note. He felt something respond inside every time she spoke. There was no use trying to pretend it wasn’t happening. But nothing like this had ever happened to him before.
Maybe it was lack of sleep, he told himself grimly. After all, the night before he’d had a rough time. After a long, tiring flight from Florida, the company had put him up at the best hotel in Rio de Oro, but there was a rodeo in town filling most of the rooms and the partying had gone on fast and furious all night long. If he’d had a full hour’s sleep, he hadn’t noticed it, and now his eyes felt grainy and his head was throbbing. That had to be it. Fatigue had thrown off his internal balance or something.
Still, this had gone so far, he knew he had to see what this Char woman looked like. He tried to get a glimpse through the shelves, but the copy machine was at an angle and he only got a quick look at a flash of skirt. He was going to have to come out from the stacks and reveal himself if he wanted to see any more.
He sauntered casually out from behind the bookcase, and he could see the group of women clearly now. There were four of them, but the only one that held his gaze was the blonde who had her back to him. Her moonlight-silver hair was straight and silky as it fell halfway down to the small of her back. She wore a light blue suit that was cut snuggly enough to reveal a trim, firm body with a neat waist and hips that were appealingly round and inviting. There was a slit in the skirt that showed off legs as long as any he’d ever seen. If this was a tree gnome, they were making them less gnomelike these days.
“And…oh wait,” she was saying, pulling out a new page that hadn’t been attached to the others yet just as he settled his attention on her. “Is this Michael Greco person the new acquisitions specialist who’s supposed to arrive today? How did you get a picture of him so quickly? I thought he’d just been loaned out by the Miami office. Is he even here yet?”
At that moment, one of the women turned her head and noticed him and her mouth dropped open in horror.
“He’s here,” the tall blonde named Sherry was saying. “I saw him when he checked in this morning and I didn’t have to think twice. Listen, one look at the boy and you know he’s calendar material. I snuck that photo from Human Resources. That’s what we were working on when you came in, making copies. I’ve got to get the original back before lunch hour is over.”
Another of the women noticed Michael and began tugging on the arm of the third. But so far, Char didn’t know he was there, and Sherry didn’t, either.
“The funny thing is, I’ve just been assigned to do some research for him,” Char said musingly, holding the calendar out as though to get a better perspective. “Hmm….” Her voice trailed off.
“Isn’t he a cutie?” Sherry asked, beaming.
“A cutie? I don’t know.” Char put her head to the side as though she couldn’t quite get a fix on the picture. “He’s got that playboy look in his eyes, if you ask me.”
Sherry’s head swung around and she blanched. By now all three women knew Michael was standing just a few feet away. Only Char was oblivious.
“Uh…Char?” Sherry whispered urgently.
But Char was lost in contemplating the picture in the calendar.
“I’ll go even further,” she said. “I’d say he’s got a shifty look. His eyes are too close together. And there’s a ruthless set to his mouth I don’t really go for.” She shook her head. “Nope. I don’t like him.”
“Char!” Sherry wailed, reaching out as though to grab her friend and run.
But Michael didn’t give her time to do that. Stepping forward, he put a hand on the blonde’s shoulder.
“A real shady character, huh?” he drawled. “Here, let me have a look.”
Char slapped the calendar to her chest, spun on her heels and stared up into his hazel eyes. Her own eyes widened, then she blinked.
“Oops,” she said, making a face.
He looked down into her sparkling gaze and forgot to breathe for a moment. Yes, the face was just as good as the rest of her. That hair the color of moonbeams framed skin as pale as fine china with eyes as blue as a summer sky. Her lips were full and lush and perfect for kissing, and when he finally did draw in a breath, her wildflower-fresh scent filled his head. He felt a surge of desire so strong, a part of him wanted to grab her and carry her off to some private place, caveman-style. If there had ever been such a thing as a woman made especially for him, this would have been her.
He swallowed hard and forced himself to ignore that fact. “May I see the picture?” he asked coolly, holding out his hand.
She shook her head, holding the calendar tightly to her chest. “Oh, no, Mr. Greco, I don’t think you want to do that,” she warned, her eyes full of apprehension.
The other women were murmuring a warning as well, but he didn’t pay any attention. “Come on,” he said, his gaze holding Chareen’s. “How bad can it be?”
A flash of resentment flared in her gaze and he wondered if he’d come off a bit too arrogant. That was just as well, of course. He’d vowed to keep his distance from all attractive women on this trip, so why not lay a firm foundation? Still, he smiled as he held out his hand again.
She hesitated, then slowly pulled the calendar away from her body and handed it to him.
He looked down and frowned. “What the hell…?” he said, looking up at her and then down at the calendar again.
The picture had his head right, but the rest was pure fantasy. Somehow Sherry had attached the head from his file picture to the body of an extremely muscular pirate, ruffled shirt open to his waist, pants that fit like leotards and revealed more than was prudent. A jaunty black eye patch and a curved sword completed the picture. All in all, the result looked closer to a male stripper than it did to anything resembling reality. He
