Sex Appeal

Brent wondered if Shadow was as open with all men as she’d been with him. He didn’t like to think so, but that would explain some young pup thinking himself in love with her. She was the type of woman to turn any man’s head, but especially someone inexperienced and vulnerable.

Brent was sitting in one of the chairs, his coat beneath him to protect the seat’s floral fabric, when Shadow returned. She had a pot of coffee, two mugs and a large white sack of foodstuffs. Brent sniffed, then smiled appreciatively. “It smells good, whatever it is.”

“Ham and cheese stuffed croissants with pasta salad. I’m not certain what flavor the coffee is, but we’ll find out soon enough.”

Shadow served up all the food, poured Brent some coffee, then settled back in her own chair. He had only enough time for three bites before she pulled out an entry form for the contest. “We can fill this out while you eat.”

Brent eyed the form with distaste. “I don’t know, Shadow. I’m not much for contests.”

“Nonsense. You know you’re attractive, and you don’t strike me as being particularly shy. I still need three more men, and quite frankly, I’m getting tired of soliciting them on my own.”

He froze in midchew.

“Ah, I didn’t mean that quite the way it sounded.”

Brent took a gulp of coffee. It was, unbelievably, flavored with orange and some spice that burned his tongue. “Do you mean to tell me,” he asked with incredulity, “that you have approached other men just as you did me?”

“Well, maybe not exactly the same.” She winced a little. “You’re the only man who was alone. Here, I’ll show you.” She opened a desk drawer and pulled out a file. Within seconds, she had seven photographs, contest entries attached, spread out on the desk.

Brent was curious, no doubt about that. He leaned forward to survey each picture.

“This is Guy Donovan,” she said. “His wife, Annie, made him enter.”

“Couldn’t he have at least combed his hair?”

“Annie likes his hair that way.” Shadow slid another photo toward him. “This is her brother Daniel.”

“He looks serious.”

“Oh, he is. He’s a doctor. His wife, Lace, tried to get him to show his chest for the photo, but he can be stubborn.”

“Who’s this guy?” Brent asked, none too pleased with the photo of a dark man wearing a devil’s smile.

Shadow laughed. “That’s Max. He’s a rascal, and he was all for taking off his shirt, but his wife, Maddie, refused. She threatened to get her own picture taken—the same way—if he dared do that. He’s Annie’s brother, too.”

“You know these people well?” It seemed to Brent she was overly familiar with other women’s husbands.

“I met them through Bea. She’s the lady who creates a lot of the slogans for the clothes for me. When I was new here, Bea brought them all in to meet me. Now we’re friends.”

A bit relieved, Brent asked, “Was your secret admirer one of the men who entered, do you think?”

“Actually, I was wondering about that.” She turned the remaining photos around. “The young man here is Chad Moreland. He’s a pharmacist close by. Friendly but shy. These two older gentlemen are brothers, Dean and Frank Stiles. They own a vet clinic on the next block and they’re so funny they make my sides ache. And this stud,” she added, laughing, “is Ricardo. He does the landscaping for the strip mall. He’s an outrageous flirt, too.”

“Do you think he’d send you gifts?”

“Ricardo? Naw, he’s right there in your face with his compliments.”

Brent felt a slow simmer of annoyance. “You’re saying he comes on to you?”

She lifted one shoulder. “He comes on to everyone female. Young and old. It’s just his way.”

Brent didn’t like hearing that, even though it was really none of his business. “What about the others?”

“They’re all just nice guys as far as I know. I can’t see any of them doing this.” She indicated the card on her desk. “Not only did I receive a card and candy, but for the last two nights I’ve gotten breather phone calls. You know the type—you say ‘hello’ and no one answers. I hate that. Though I know it’s nothing, just a prank, it still makes me nervous.”

Which proved she was no dummy, as far as Brent was concerned. “Maybe you should have your home number changed.”

Shadow flushed, picking at the remaining bite of her croissant. “I thought about it,” she admitted. “But I had hoped you might call me, and if I had my number changed, there was no way for you to look me up in the book.”

Brent leaned back in his chair, still appalled by how easily she shared her private thoughts. It was downright distracting and he had to wonder if this wasn’t just another well thought up female game. When elusiveness didn’t work, bring out the blatant truth. “I gave you my card,” he pointed out. “You didn’t call me, either.”

She groused at him defensively. “You already thought I was easy! I know the rules, even if I don’t always follow them. Women don’t call men.”

“I wouldn’t have minded.” He kept his tone gentle, his gaze glued to hers. He reached across the desk and caught her hand. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“I don’t know.” She went strangely breathless when he touched her. “I feel…nice, around you. Very aware and alive. I like that. I kept thinking of you, and I just wanted to hear your voice. Don’t get me wrong,” she added when he frowned again. “I’m not husband hunting or trying to claim love at first sight. It’s just that I haven’t met a man I was really attracted to in a long time, and it has nothing to do with how handsome you are. It’s more that you’re different, just as I am.” Then she groaned. “Oh boy, now I sound insulting. I mean, I know most people think I’m kind of weird. I wasn’t suggesting you’re weird, also.”

“Shadow.” Brent reached one long arm across the desk, gently laying his fingers over her soft lips, silencing her. “I don’t think you’re weird. Different, certainly, but in a refreshing way. I like you, too, all right?”

Since his fingers were still on her mouth, Shadow could only nod.

“Good. Now, why don’t you call and have your number changed, then let me know what it is.” He leaned away from her to pick up a pencil from her desk, then pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. “My home phone number,” he said, showing her the paper. “I’ve only just settled into the house, and the number is still new to me. I can’t remember it myself yet.”

After copying it down for Shadow, he handed it to her. She glanced at it and said, “You have the same exchange as me. Where did you move to?”

“Woodbine Haven. Are you familiar with it?” Brent already knew the answer to that. He was, in fact, only a few blocks from where Shadow lived. He’d been pleased when he read her file and realized how close they would be. He waited for her reaction.

She disappointed him when she said only, “I know where it is.” For another moment she was silent, then, sounding disgruntled, she said, “You really are rich, aren’t you?”

What could he tell her? Woodbine Haven was a section of older, grand houses renovated and advertised as a prestigious neighborhood. It was a private section, containing only about twenty houses, and each was huge, with much of the original architecture from over a century ago. Seeing Shadow’s disappointment and not really understanding it, he asked, “Is that a problem?”

“No. Not really.” Her soft lips twisted in a wry grimace. “But I’ve known wealthy men and they tend to assume women will do anything they want just because they have money. They’re arrogant and condescending and egotistical.”

“Probably,” he said, his back going stiff with memories, “because most women will do anything for money. I can tell you firsthand how attractive women find the size of my wallet.”

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “Don’t you have any other sizable assets that could distract them, instead?”

Exasperation crowded out the more unpleasant emotions. “Shadow…”

Laughing, she raised her hands. “I meant your new home, of course! Woodbine Haven is positively extravagant!”

Brent shook his head in mock reproach. “As soon as I can manage it,” he warned softly, “you’re going to view the rest of my assets, firsthand.”

She attempted to hide her grin and failed miserably. “Well, in the meantime, how about filling out the entry form? Please.”

With a dramatic sigh, Brent agreed. “If you insist.”

Shadow stood to clear away the remains of their lunch, and it was then Brent realized she hadn’t removed her coat yet. It wasn’t cold in the office, but he’d at first assumed she wore it to ward off the chill caused by her trip to the coffee shop. He asked her now, “Planning on going somewhere?”

Shadow gave him a puzzled look as she threw the trash in the can. “No.”

“Then why don’t you take your coat off?”

Heated color rushed to her cheeks, but she lifted her chin. “I don’t want you to see my dress.”

He sat back, prepared to be amused again. “Why not?”

“It…well…”

“Stammering, Shadow? This is different.”

Her mouth tightened, then she said, “It seemed kind of cute this morning when I first dressed, but now I’ve decided it would be better if I kept it under wraps.”

Predictably enough, Brent’s gaze went to the coat concealing her dress. “Now you’ve intrigued me.” He stood and moved closer to her. “Take it off.”

It wasn’t an order, more like a coaxing suggestion. Shadow shook her head. “You’ll think I’m being suggestive again.”

With infinite care, Brent reached out and began to undo the buttons of her soft, down-filled coat. When Shadow didn’t object, holding her breath instead, he continued. She began to babble.

“It’s silly, really. Just one of those joke items I’ll be selling this holiday season. I wouldn’t wear it anywhere but the shop, but I was in a holiday spirit this morning, and not really thinking about how it might look if someone separated me from the items I sell.”

“Hush.” Brent was busy giving his eyes free rein over her body. Damn, she was fine. More than fine. He had only to think of her and his muscles tensed, heated. He wanted her, and he’d have her. Soon. He parted the coat.

The dress ended well above her knees and was made of dark green knit, soft and clinging to the dips and swells of her upper body, but with a full skirt. The front, imprinted with a glitzy, decorated Christmas tree, caught and reflected the office lights off the many small sequins and buttons and beads. Brent knew it was the message printed above the fancy tree that Shadow was now feeling timid over.

Deliberately, he read it out loud. “There’s Something Special under my Tree for You.”

Since her body was under the tree, branches reaching across her breasts, the base ending at the notch of her thighs, Brent could understand her shyness. That she looked unbelievably enticing in the dress would only add to her dilemma. Brent skimmed the coat completely off her shoulders and down her arms, then tossed it onto the chair he’d just vacated. His hands went to her shoulders, straight and broad for a woman, emphasizing the tiny span of her waist.

“I don’t ever want you to be embarrassed with me, Shadow. Promise me.”

Nearly speechless, Shadow whispered, “I promise.”

He caught her face in his hands. His thumbs stroked over the softness of her cheeks and chin and jaw, his fingers delving into her dark, loosely curling hair. So incredibly soft, so warm. For an endless moment he stood there like that, enjoying the differences in their sizes, the light, feminine fragrance of her, the way she watched him, her thoughts now transparent without her speaking a word. Then he released her and stepped away. “You’ll have your phone number changed tomorrow?”

Shadow cleared her throat, then took several deep, openmouthed breaths. Finally she said, “Yes. I think it might be best. I’ve already told Kallie not to accept any more packages for me, to send them back if more should come.”

“It’s probably nothing to worry about, but be careful. Don’t go to the parking lot alone, and keep your door locked at home.”

Her slim brows lifted. “I do that anyway,” she answered, obviously annoyed. “I’m not careless.”

Not careless, but she was independent. “Fine.” The last thing Brent had meant to do was insult her. “Let’s get that damned entry form filled out then, if you really think it’s necessary.”

Shadow didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. She hustled back behind her desk, picked up the form and smiled at him. “I’ve already filled in your name. Now I need your exact address.”

It took only a few moments to fill out the top portion of the form. When they got to the next section, Shadow didn’t bother hiding her anticipation.

“You said you’re not married?”

“Am I disqualified if I say yes?”

“Availability is not a requirement for entering,” Shadow said stiffly, glaring at him.

Brent chuckled. “I didn’t lie. I’m not married now, nor have I ever been.”

Tilting her head, Shadow asked, “Engaged? Or otherwise involved?”

“That’s on the form?”

“No. It just seemed prudent to ask.”

Again he laughed. “I already told you I was here alone, remember?”

“But that was when we’d just met. I thought it might be good to verify it.”

His low laugh rumbled. “No. No engagement, no involvement.”

Nodding, she glanced at the form, then asked, “Ever been engaged?”

“Let me guess,” he said, eyeing Shadow lazily. “That’s not actually on the form, either.”

She shook her head, unrepentant. “Curiosity.”

Brent took his time deciding whether or not he wanted to answer. Finally he figured what the hell. She may as well know how he felt about marriage. “Up until a few months ago I was engaged, but it’s over now. And that was enough for me.”

“Oh.” The papers were laid on the desk, forgotten. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up bad memories for you.”

“You didn’t. I knew I was being married for my money. I expected that. But then she informed me she didn’t want children because it would ruin all her fun.”

Shadow winced.

“Since having kids was the main reason I had wanted to marry, I ended it. And I’m not sorry that it’s over. Just the opposite.”

“How does she feel about it?”

Brent shrugged. “She still makes a nuisance of herself on occasion. When she found out I was moving, she took it as a sign that I was too heartbroken to stay in the same area with her.”

“But you’re not heartbroken?” Shadow asked.

Briefly closing his eyes, Brent said, “No. I would have made her a lousy husband, and vice versa. I’d still like to have children someday. But now I know what to look for in a wife.”

“Such as?”

Apparently, as long as he was talking, Shadow was more than willing to listen. He took her by surprise when he reached across the desk to chuck her under the chin.

“For one thing, she can’t be a businesswoman. Too independent. And she would have to be biddable. Someone content to be a wife and mother above all things.”

Shadow smiled in understanding. “What you’re looking for isn’t all that unique, and one of the reasons I don’t plan to marry, even though I’d love to have children, too. I even tried once—marriage, I mean. When I was only seventeen.”

“Seventeen?” She’d been little more than a child. The idea was appalling.

Her eyes a little sad, she said, “I thought I wanted someone who would love me, who would put me first. Now, looking back, I think I just wanted to have sex. With my family upbringing, I couldn’t do that without being married.”

“What happened?” Brent was genuinely curious, which wasn’t at all usual for him. A woman’s personal history had never interested him before. But then, he’d never met anyone even remotely like Shadow.

“We were both young and stupid.” She straightened the papers on her desk, fidgeting, then came to some hidden decision. She looked up to meet his gaze. “He also liked to smack me around. The first time it happened, I kept quiet because I hated to admit everyone was right, that I’d made a mistake. The second time, I left him, but then I let him convince me to give our marriage another try. That was a real mistake.”

Brent stared at her, aware of a slow burn churning in his gut. Someone had dared to hit her? He didn’t care that it was long ago, that it had less than nothing to do with him. He hadn’t even known her and barely knew her now.

But none of that mattered. If she pointed the guy out today, right this second, he’d beat him into the ground. Brent drew a breath, barely getting hold of himself, and asked, “What did you do?”

“The third time he hit me I decided to get even, and when he turned his back on me that night, I surprised him with a baseball bat.”

Brent sat back, amazed. “Good for you.”

“I broke two of his ribs.” She added with a shrug, “He never asked me to come back after that.”

Through the tumultuous mix of anger and disbelief, Brent found a spot of laughter. It amazed him that she could always do that, could always amuse him, no matter what.

Her incredible eyes were still twinkling when he commented, “That was a long time ago. You haven’t had the urge to give it another try?”

“Only once. When I was twenty-four, seven years after my first marriage. I almost tied that stupid knot again, but like you, I luckily found out beforehand what I was getting into. Right before, actually. Two days prior to the wedding, I discovered my fiancé going into debt on the inheritance I’d just received from my grandmother. When I walked away, he was in a killing rage, because he’d promised most of my money on investments and was seriously in debt without it. I wasn’t surprised when he told me he’d only wanted me for my money, anyway. Not that I’m in your league, but Grandmother Harrison did leave me a pretty sum, enough for me to finally decide I could be independent, both personally and financially.”

She tapped the pencil on the desk. “That was seven years ago. Now I’m coming to realize how much I’d like to have children of my own. Of course, in this day and age, you don’t need to tie yourself into a loveless marriage to become a parent. One of my new friends, Annie, says I’m suffering my ‘seven year itch’ since my relationship fiascoes seem to come seven years apart.” Shadow laughed. “I told her I wasn’t, because I had no intention of getting married. But I am giving the parent thing some thought. As they say, my biological clock is ticking.”

“You want to be a mother now?”

“Don’t look so worried! You’re not in danger of being an unwilling sperm donor. I would never get pregnant by a man without asking him first. And anyway, I’d probably do it through a clinic. You know, artificially inseminated, and all that.”

Brent recovered enough to comment, “That doesn’t sound like any fun.”

“No, it doesn’t. But then, the alternative isn’t always that great, either.”

Brent quirked a brow at that artless confession, then laughed when Shadow slapped her hand over her mouth. “Go on,” he encouraged her, anxious to hear more.

“Forget I said that,” she mumbled past her fingers. “I didn’t mean to cast aspersions on the male species and their abilities.”

Brent continued to smile. “I was taking it more as a challenge.”

“Well, for Pete’s sake, don’t! I certainly didn’t mean it as one.”

“You make me laugh, Shadow. I like that. I like you. And as long as we’re both in agreement that marriage is not a state to be devoutly sought, I think we can have some of your acclaimed fun together. Don’t you?”

“I suppose,” she agreed, but without as much enthusiasm as Brent had hoped for.

Nodding at her desk, he suggested, “Why don’t we finish that contest form, then I’ll help you hang the rest of your decorations.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she assured him.

“I want to. Besides, I have nothing better to do with my time today.”

“Oh. Well then, the next question is what three qualities do you look for most in a woman?”

“Attractiveness, honesty and sensuality.”

Shadow stared. “That was mighty quick. You don’t need time to think about it?”

Propping his elbow on the arm of his chair, he rested his chin in his palm. “Nope.”

Shadow smacked her pencil down on her desk. “In that order, I suppose?”

“Certainly. If a woman isn’t attractive, I wouldn’t pursue her in the first place. If I got to know her, and she wasn’t honest—a new criterion of mine—I wouldn’t trust her, and therefore wouldn’t want a relationship with her. If we started a relationship, and she was a cold fish, or a prude, there’d be no point in continuing.” He shrugged.

Shadow shook her head in dismay, but then quipped, “At least you’re honest about it.”

“Which part are you objecting to, Shadow? It can’t be the looks part, because you have to know how sexy you are.”

“I’m…average. That’s all.”

He just smiled. “I find it hard to believe you could be a prude.”

She scowled at him. “If you’re trying to find out if I’m honest, the answer should be obvious. I wouldn’t put out the effort necessary to lie. But what bothered me was that you didn’t think a sense of humor was important. Or honor. Or generosity.”

“They would have come in place after sensuality.”

She rolled her eyes. “Next question—what would you consider the perfect romantic evening?”

“You mean there’s only one?”

She clicked her teeth together. “You’ll have to narrow it down to your favorite.”

He shifted, propping his elbows on his knees, tapping his fingers together thoughtfully. When his eyes came to hold Shadow’s gaze, hers darkened in reaction. He said quietly, his words deep and slow, “Being alone with a woman, the sounds of a storm outside, a warm fire. Naked, with all the time in the world ahead of us.”

She looked taken aback by his deliberate and intimate use of “us.” She shook her head when she realized she hadn’t written his comments down, and hurried to do so, though her fingers shook slightly with the effort.

“Anything else?” Brent asked, enjoying her reaction.

“What…” Shadow cleared her throat, then tried again. “What do you like to do for fun?”

“Water ski, swim, jog.” He grinned at her. “Make love.”

Her pencil paused, then she quickly scribbled down his answer. “And what type of work do you do?” She was writing as she asked the final question, studiously avoiding his gaze, so she missed his expression of doubt and determination.

Beyond the bare bones, his work shouldn’t interest her.

Glancing up, she said, “You gave me a business card, but it doesn’t really say. Just your name and a number.”

He had many businesses, and even more managers to see to those businesses. That was why he hadn’t known about Shadow until boredom had forced him to come to Ohio, involving himself with his newest venture. He answered vaguely, hoping she wouldn’t press. “I’m self-employed, running my own affairs. As I said earlier, I’m in real estate.”

“Is it interesting?” Shadow asked as she wrote down the final information.

He looked at her bent head, the way her silky curls loosely framed her face. “More so each day.”

She smiled at Brent as she folded the papers. “That’s about it. All we need now is a picture. As I told you, Hot Shots here in the complex has offered to take the contestants’ photos for free. We can go there now if you like, or sometime later in the week.”

“If you have the time, we might as well get it over with.”

* * *

THE PHOTOGRAPHER WAS very friendly—a little too friendly, Shadow thought. The woman fawned over Brent, insisting he do the shot without a shirt, and Brent, surprising Shadow, decided to oblige her. He stripped off his shirt without a hint of modesty—not that modesty was necessary. He looked incredible.

Though his hair was light brown, the hair on his chest was darker, not overly thick, but sexy. He was muscular, with broad sinewy shoulders and sculpted biceps. His abdomen was hard, lean, divided by a slender line of that dark body hair. It swirled around his navel, then disappeared into his trousers.