Operation Babe-Magnet

“Good. Let’s start with a refresher course.” She picked up a copy of Hanover’s book and flipped through the pages. “There are some great pointers in chapter three.”

“Pointers?” Dexter echoed, realizing he must have misunderstood her. “You think I need pointers?”

“I think you should be familiar with Harry’s tutorial on kissing. We want your method to match the book.”

Tutorial? This was ridiculous. He’d been mauled by a strange woman in a bookstore and Kylie was concerned because he hadn’t seduced the woman on the spot. But before he could explain that he’d never had any complaints about his kisses, she began reading aloud from How To Jump-Start Your Love Life.

“The right kiss will make your lady purr like the engine of a Lamborghini,” Kylie looked up at him. “Harry likes to draw a lot parallels between romance and auto mechanics to make it more comprehensible to male readers.”

“Fascinating,” Dexter said dryly.

“There are three key components to remember when striving for the perfect kiss. Proximity, pressure and pizzazz.”

“Should I be taking notes?” he asked, finding this entire conversation ludicrous. He was twenty-eight years old. Did she really believe he that needed remedial lessons in romance?

“That’s not a bad idea,” she replied, then pointed to the end table. “There should be a pencil and notepad in the drawer.”

Well, at least that answered his question. He didn’t move from the beanbag chair. “I think I can keep it all in my head. I just have to remember the three Ps. Proximity, pressure and pizzazz.”

“Very good,” she replied, then turned back to the book and continued reading. “Proximity is the most important of these three vital components. A man should immediately establish the dominant role, invoking the image of both protector and pursuer.”

“Okay, now we’re up to five Ps.” Dexter said, leaning back in the beanbag chair. “Proximity, pressure, pizzazz, protector and pursuer. I take it Hanover is a big fan of alliteration.”

Kylie dropped the book in her lap. “I’m not sure I agree with that bit about the dominant role. And I certainly don’t remember reading anything about it in the first draft. Maybe there was an editing mistake.”

“It sounds fine to me.”

She frowned. “You believe men should play the dominant role in a relationship?”

“That’s not what the book says,” he replied evenly, warming up for a good debate. He’d been a state champion in forensics in high school. “Hanover clearly states that the man should establish the dominant role during the kiss. That he should take on his natural role of pursuer. Since the beginning of time, men have been the hunters, pursuing their prey. A thousand years ago they hunted the water buffalo. Today it’s the woman.”

She arched a brow. “And you don’t find that attitude at all sexist?”

“Hey, you’re the one who hired a gigolo. Don’t you think that’s sexist? You even gave me a makeover so women would find me more appealing.”

“You were appealing before,” she countered, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of pink. “But image is everything in this business, and you looked more like a power broker than the author of a book on romantic relationships.”

“So who do you like better?” he asked, taking a sip of his wine. “The old Dexter Kane or the new Harry Hanover?”

She picked up the book and held it in front of her, making it impossible for him to see her face. “I think we’ve gotten off the subject.”

Dexter opened his mouth, then closed it again. Maybe he didn’t really want to know her answer. “Then let’s move on to the next P. It’s presumptuous, isn’t it?”

“Pressure,” she replied, lowering the book. “Are you sure you don’t want to take notes?”

“Positive.”

“All right, but pay attention.”

Dexter watched her lick her lips and wished he could stop paying attention. Stop watching the way her fingers trickled through her silky nutmeg hair when she tucked it behind her ear. Stop noticing the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled. Stop his gaze from falling to the enticing curves outlined by her hot pink sweater. Or even lower, to appreciate the way her black capri pants hugged her long legs.

He reached for his wine, suddenly wishing it was something stronger.

“There are two kinds of pressure,” she read aloud, “that should be applied to achieve a penultimate kiss. The first is bodily pressure. If you’ve achieved the correct proximity, it should simply be a matter of leaning close enough to make physical contact with the length of her body. Like cables clamped on a car battery, you need a good connection to generate electricity.”

Dexter set down his wineglass, suddenly growing very warm. It was possible the sheen of sweat on his brow wasn’t due to the wine. In fact, he knew with a growing certainty that his body was reacting to the sound of Kylie’s soft, throaty voice describing the way to turn a woman on.

She shifted on the inflatable sofa, tucking one leg underneath her and stretching the other long leg in Dexter’s direction. “Second is mouth pressure. This should vary during the length of a kiss. Seduce her into submission. Too much pressure will cause the kiss to stall out. Too little won’t even get her engine started.”

“Exactly what kind of relationship does Hanover have with his car?” Dexter asked, trying to break the tension building up inside of him.

“I know it’s a little heavy on the automobile references,” she replied. “Harry started out writing car repair manuals. But I think one of the great things about this book is that it will appeal to men. There aren’t many romance self-help books out there that relay information in this kind of language.”

“That I definitely believe.”

“Okay, on to the third P,” she said, flipping to the next page. “Pizzazz in a kiss is like racing stripes on your car. That little something extra that really makes it stand out from the crowd. So how do you put pizzazz in a kiss? By using both verbal and nonverbal communication to convey your attraction. Use your body, your hands and your words to ignite the passion between you. Just like you talk to your car, talk to your lady. Make her know how much you care about her. And how good she makes you feel.”

Kylie closed the book. “That’s it.”

“Okay.” He picked up his wineglass and drained it. Then he set it down and took a deep breath. “I’m ready to go for a test drive.”

KYLIE SMILED AS SHE watched Dexter struggle out of the beanbag chair. It obviously wasn’t designed for someone over six feet tall.

She stood up and held out her hand. “Need a lift?”

He looked up at her, the expression in his molten gray eyes sending a shock wave throughout her body. It must be the wine.

Only the wine didn’t explain the strange sensation that enveloped her when his hand closed over hers. Her heart skittered in her chest as she helped him to his feet. She was suddenly aware of how big Dexter Kane was compared to her. At five feet seven inches, she’d never considered herself petite. But she barely reached his chin. His shoulders were so broad they blocked the view of the hallway, though she knew Amy’s door was closed and her roommate fast asleep.

Kylie swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Dexter was still gazing at her with those penetrating gray eyes and his hand still held hers. He had strong, broad hands and the shirt they’d picked out for him emphasized his well-honed biceps. The combination made her believe that he could lift her off the floor with the slightest effort. Not that she wanted him to lift her, she told herself firmly. But the image was undeniably thrilling.

“Are you ready?” he asked huskily, their palms growing warm.

“Ready?” she echoed dumbly.

“To practice that kiss.”

She blinked. “Oh, yes. Of course.”

“I’ve got the three Ps memorized. Proximity,” he murmured, moving a step closer to her. “Pressure.” Another step. “Pizzazz.” He stood so close she could barely breathe.

“All right,” she replied, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

Then she whirled around and raced across the living room. She pulled the dressmaker’s dummy from the corner and rolled it over to him. “This is Gertrude. She’ll be your date for this evening.”

Dexter stared at her. “You want me to kiss a plastic woman?”

“You can start with Gertrude and work your way up from there,” Kylie replied, still trying to regain her equilibrium.

But Dexter didn’t give Gertrude a second glance. He turned to Kylie, slowly advancing on her. “I don’t think so.”

Kylie backed up a step, then another, until her back met the wall. “What are you doing?”

“I’m establishing the dominant role.” He stood directly in front of her, then planted one hand on either side of her shoulders. “Is it working?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

His expression softened. “Are you scared of me?”

She wasn’t certain how to answer that question. Her knees were shaking, but not out of fear. “No.”

“Good.” Then he leaned his head closer to hers and inhaled deeply. “You smell so good. It’s been driving me crazy all day long.”

“I use…raspberries,” she stuttered, then realized she sounded like an idiot. “I mean raspberry-scented body lotion. The soap and shampoo, too.”

His gray eyes darkened. “I like it.”

She licked her lips, then noticed his gaze fall to her mouth. If he was determined to play this out, she wished he would just get it over with.

He took a step closer, his face now so close to hers she could smell the bouquet of the red wine on his breath. Then his lips feathered over one eyebrow and burned a trail down the length of her cheek. She closed her eyes as he kissed the corner of her mouth, then she found herself parting her lips and turning her head toward him.

He didn’t wait for any further encouragement, closing his mouth over hers with a low, guttural moan. Her arms circled around his neck as he deepened the kiss, the silken thrust of his tongue making her pull him closer.

His hands were on her shoulders now, his fingers gently kneading her skin until she thought she would collapse from the exquisite sensation. His lips molded against her own, teasing and tasting and tempting, until he drew a long moan from deep within her throat.

At last he lifted his head and stared into her eyes, his breathing as ragged as her own. “There’s one thing you should know about me, Kylie.”

“What’s that?” she whispered, her lips still tingling.

“I’m a very fast learner.” Then he turned and walked out the door without another word.

5

“YOU WOKE ME UP TO BRAG about a kiss?” Amy Kwan yawned behind her hand, her eyelids drooping.

“I’m not bragging,” Kylie said, pacing back and forth across the living room floor. Dexter had left over an hour ago, but she still couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind. Her heart raced just thinking about it. “I mean it was a stupendous kiss. I have never been kissed like that before in my entire life!”

“I know,” Amy murmured sleepily. “You already told me three times. He made you see stars, yada, yada, yada. So what’s the problem?”

Kylie stopped in front of her roommate, who lay stretched across the inflatable sofa. “The man is a gigolo. A male escort. A professional seducer of women. You don’t see that as a problem?”

Amy’s delicate brows drew together. “But you knew he was a gigolo when you hired him. In fact, that’s the reason you hired him. You wanted the fake Harry Hanover to be able to sweep a woman off her feet, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” Kylie exclaimed, flopping down into the beanbag chair. “Of course. I want him to dazzle every woman he meets. But not me!”

Amy sat up. “Kylie, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Letting your heart lead you instead of your head. Or in this case, your hormones. How long has it been since your last date?”

“I’ve been busy,” Kylie hedged.

“Six months?” Amy guessed. “Seven?”

She sighed. “Twelve months and thirteen days.”

“So you agree it is possible that you’re overreacting to that kiss?”

“Anything is possible at two o’clock in the morning.” She rubbed her face with her hands. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am overreacting.”

Amy grinned. “You do have a tendency to leap before you look. Remember Tony?”

Kylie felt a blush crawl up her cheeks. Amy knew all about her years in Hollywood. She’d been as impulsive in her relationships as she had in every other aspect of her life. “That was my fault for getting involved with an actor. They love themselves too much to love anyone else.”

“And Adam.”

“A director. Even worse, when you consider the size of their egos.”

“And now there’s Dexter.”

“Okay, okay,” Kylie conceded, holding up both hands. “You’ve made your point. And I know you’re right. I’ve always been too impulsive. I wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t scheduled a book tour for Harry Hanover without getting his approval first. But Dexter is…different.”

“Just be careful,” Amy admonished. “The man is a gigolo. A professional babe magnet. Kissing is his stock and trade. He probably has this affect on all his women.”

All his women. She needed to remember that she wasn’t his first and certainly wouldn’t be his last. No doubt there was a long line of women Dexter D. Kane had kissed until their toes tingled.

But had it ever meant anything to him?

Kylie nibbled her lower lip. “You know, now that I think about that kiss, he did go strictly by the book, hitting every high point in chapter three. Establishing his dominance. Applying just the right amount of pressure.”

“Chapter three?”

“It’s the kissing tutorial in How To Jump-Start Your Love Life.”

Dexter’s husky words echoed in her mind. You smell so good. It’s been driving me crazy all day long. She closed her eyes, realizing he’d added a dash of pizzazz as well. “I’m an idiot.”

“Now I think you’re definitely overreacting,” Amy said gently.

Kylie shook her head. “Here I am swooning over Dexter’s kiss and he was just playing his part. He’s probably forgotten it already. Especially since he just turned around and walked out the door while I, on the other hand, could barely stand up.”

“Well, you wanted the man to practice kissing, didn’t you?”

“On Gertrude, not me!”

Amy snorted. “Gertrude? Okay, I hate to admit it, but Dexter is starting to grow on me. Any man who would choose a real flesh-and-blood woman over a plastic mannequin can’t be all bad.”

Kylie folded her arms across her chest. “That’s not the point. Dexter needs to remember that I’m the one in charge of this operation. I did hire him, after all, not the other way around. If I want him to kiss a plastic woman, then I think he should do it. There will be several last-minute decisions I have to make on the book tour and I need to be certain he’ll follow through.”

“And what happens if he tries to kiss you again? Can you keep from swooning at his feet?”

“Of course. I simply won’t let it affect me.”

“Uh-huh.” Amy looked skeptical.

“No, really,” Kylie said, firming her resolve. “First thing in the morning, I’m going to make it clear to Dexter that I’m in charge. Which means from now on, he keeps his lips to himself.”

“I WASN’T EXPECTING YOU so soon.” Dexter stood in the doorway of his apartment, a towel wrapped around his waist and his face covered with shaving lotion.

Kylie walked inside, a box of doughnuts in her hands. “I called to tell you I was coming over early.”

He closed the door, then turned to face her. “You called me thirty seconds ago on your cell phone. I didn’t realize you were standing right outside my door.”

Her gaze dropped to his chest, then to the towel hanging low on his hips. “Dexter, we need to talk.”

“Can I get dressed first?”

A pink blush suffused her cheeks. “Please do.”

He walked into his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. He wasn’t sure why Kylie had made a beeline for his apartment this morning, but after that kiss last night, he wasn’t exactly in a talking mood. Even after a second icy cold shower, he still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

He tossed the towel onto the bed, then quickly dressed in an outfit that would meet Amy Kwan’s approval. He ran a comb through his wet hair, slicking it back. Then he walked into the adjoining bathroom and finished shaving. The man looking back at him in the mirror had bloodshot eyes caused by staying up half the night doing research on the Internet.

He had finally figured out that the way to succeed at this gigolo gig was to approach it just like he’d approached the other challenges in his life—by learning everything he could about the subject until he mastered it. It had worked with accounting. And business law. So why not with romance?

He’d found myriad Web sites pertaining to romance, along with several chat rooms populated by people who offered some very interesting variations on how to properly seduce a woman. Not that he actually intended to seduce anyone, especially Kylie, but he’d mentally filed the information anyway.

Dexter had learned a long time ago that information was power. So the more he knew about romance, the more successful he’d be at imitating the author of the latest fad book on the subject.

He’d thumbed through How To Jump-Start Your Love Life last night, too, but he intended to give it a much more thorough examination on the car ride from Pittsburgh to Columbus, Ohio, today. Kylie had arranged an interview for him there on an early bird radio show tomorrow morning.

Dexter wiped off the remnants of shaving cream from his jaw with a towel, blinking rapidly to moisten his dry eyes. The optometrist had warned him that he should let his eyes adjust gradually to the contact lenses or risk irritation and possibly infection. He’d obviously worn the new contact lenses for too many hours yesterday.

He reached for his glasses, then changed his mind. Kylie had hired him to portray Harry Hanover, and Harry didn’t wear glasses. At least, that’s the reason he told himself as he unscrewed the contact lens case and placed a lens into each eye. It had nothing to do with the fact that she’d melted in his arms while he was in his Harry Hanover persona. If she wanted Harry, then he’d give her Harry.

By the time he returned to the living room, Kylie had the doughnut box open and half empty.

“Your eyes are red,” she said, licking vanilla glaze off her fingertips.

“They’re fine,” he replied, blinking away the sting. “Now what did you want to talk about?”

“Sit down, Dexter.”

“Harry.”

She frowned. “What?”

“You called me Dexter. I thought you wanted to refer to me as Harry from now on to avoid any confusion while we’re on the book tour.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Can I get you a glass of orange juice?” he asked, moving toward the small, open kitchen. “Or I can make you a cup of coffee?”

“Orange juice will be fine.” She picked up another doughnut out of the box, this one drizzled with chocolate glaze and covered with colorful candy sprinkles.

He poured them each a tumbler full of juice, then sat down across from her at the breakfast bar. It occurred to him that Kylie was the perfect guinea pig to test his newfound knowledge of romance. Not only did she think he was a gigolo and expect him to flirt and flatter, but it was crucial to the success of the book tour.

Taking a sip of his juice, he regarded her over the rim of his glass. According to the information he’d gleaned, small compliments made a woman feel both attractive and special. “I like your ears.”

Kylie stopped chewing and swallowed. “What?”

“They’re just right. Not too big, not too small. And they don’t stick out at all.”

“No one’s ever really mentioned that before.”

He smiled, pleased that he’d been the first. “Your teeth are great, too. Very white.”

She brushed the crumbs off of her fingers. “Thanks.”

“But do you know what my favorite part of you is?”

She stilled, then looked up into his face, her gaze wary. “What?”

“Your laugh,” he hesitated, wondering if he should go on. But something about the way she was looking at him impelled him to keep talking. “It reminds me of my first-grade teacher. Miss Ames. She had a laugh like yours. Light. Infectious. It always made me think of sunshine.”

Her gaze softened. “That is so sweet, Harry. Did you have a crush on her?”

He shrugged. “It was a long time ago.” Dexter found himself reluctant to reveal his single-minded devotion to Miss Ames, even after all these years. Despite the small gifts he’d given her, along with a sappy love poem he’d copied out of a library book, the young teacher had always preferred his brother. Sam had been a perennial teacher’s pet, enchanting all the female teachers from kindergarten through high school.

Miss Ames had just been the first in a long line of the fairer sex who had been more interested in his brother than in him. They liked Sam’s roguish charm and impulsive nature. The exact opposite of Dexter.

But he wasn’t Dexter anymore, he was Harry Hanover. And Harry made women fall at his feet.

Kylie glanced at her watch. “We don’t have much time. Are you packed?”

He hitched his thumb over his shoulder.

“My suitcase is by the door.”

“Good.” Then she hesitated, tucking a stray curl behind her perfectly curved ear. “We need to talk.”

He looked at her for a long moment, wondering if she realized she had a smudge of chocolate on the corner of her mouth. He was tempted to lean over and lick it off, just to see her reaction. He hadn’t come across such a method while doing his research, so maybe he shouldn’t improvise. Then again, spontaneity had been encouraged. His gaze fell to chocolate on her mouth again and blood pooled low in his body just thinking about it.

“So are we in agreement?”

He blinked, startled out of his fantasy. “About what?”

“That I am completely in charge from here on out. Your boss at Studs-R-Us assured me that her employees were quite adept at following orders.”

He arched a brow. “Exactly what kind of orders do you have in mind?”

Her gaze flicked to his mouth, then back up again. Which made Dexter discover something else he liked about Kylie. She blushed beautifully.

“I’ll tell you when we get to Columbus.”

6

“YOUR ROOM IS RIGHT THROUGH here, Miss Timberlake.” The bellman indicated the door adjoining Dexter’s hotel room. He opened it to set her suitcases inside, then closed it again. “Will there be anything else.”

“No, thank you,” Kylie said, digging in her purse for money to pay the tip. But Dexter beat her to it, pulling some crisp bills out of his billfold and handing them to the bellman.

“That kind of thing is my responsibility,” Kylie informed him once they were alone in the room. “So how much do I owe you?”

“Forget it,” Dexter replied, tossing his suitcase on top of the king-sized bed. “I’m not letting you pay for everything on this trip.”

She arched a brow. “Isn’t that what a gigolo does best?”

“Male escort,” he amended, unzipping the suitcase, then lifting the lid. Inside were three piles of neatly stacked clothing. “I don’t know about other male escorts, but I pay my own way.”

She folded her arms across her chest, deciding this was as good a time as any to make her point. “Remember what I said about following orders?”

He carried a stack of clothing from his suitcase to the dresser and laid it inside the top drawer. “I remember you told me to follow your orders, but I don’t remember agreeing to do so.”

She took a deep breath. “Then maybe I should get another male escort.”

Dexter straightened and looked at her. “You’d really do that?”

She licked her lips, hoping he wouldn’t call her bluff. She didn’t have time to find another fake Harry Hanover. Besides, she liked Dexter. The thought of firing him made her stomach go a little queasy. “I’ll do whatever is necessary to make this book tour a success.”