“You’d like to try all ten fantasies with me?” Callum asked with a grin

Josie’s blush was beautifully telling. “Well, I…I…”

He waved the racy magazine at her from where he sprawled naked on the bed. “We’ve covered number one already, sweetheart. Last night. Sex With A Stranger. I was your stranger—though we’re great friends now.”

Josie laughed even as she recalled every delicious detail of the night. “I guess that’s true.”

“So that leaves nine more fantasies—one for every night I’m still in town.” He paused. “Let’s see, I’ll pick you up at seven tonight. We’ll go out for dinner.”

“Out? Why don’t we just stay here?” In bed, she thought.

“Oh, no. Fantasy number two is Sex In A Public Place. Wear a dress. Something soft and floaty. And no panties.”

Callum loved seeing the mixture of shock and excitement in Josie’s eyes. By the time seven o’clock came tonight, she’d be almost unbearably aroused.

And boy, so would he!

Dear Reader,

I once read a fascinating book that listed and explored all sorts of female sexual fantasies. They were many and varied, and I couldn’t see some ever making the transition from fantasy to reality—physically impossible! When I sat down to write my second Blaze book about a frustrated girl who had a sexual wish list a mile long, I wanted her fantasies to be the kind that could be fulfilled, if only she could find the right man.

Of course, I was eager to supply Josie with her Mr. Right. Not a fantasy man, either. But a real flesh-and-blood guy with the expertise and attitude for a no-strings, fantasy-fulfilling affair. Callum McCloud fitted the bill perfectly. Up to a point. He warns our heroine up front he isn’t into Forever After. No way. Never in a million years! Yes, I can see you smiling. You know better, don’t you? But the road to romance is a wild one, and Josie and Callum have many nights of wonderful sex before they embrace love. Wow, do they have fun together! Hope you have fun, too….

Miranda Lee

A Man For The Night
Miranda Lee

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

1

MEN WERE A LOST CAUSE, Josie Williams decided as she drove to work that Monday morning.

“At least where I’m concerned,” she muttered.

She should have known Angus was too good to be true. Past experience should have warned her to look for the hidden flaws instead of hoping that she’d finally found her rainbow pot of gold—male-wise.

All that glitters had certainly not been gold on this occasion. Angus had been fool’s gold, and she had been the fool. Again.

Josie sighed a weary sigh. At the rate she was going, she’d never find what she was looking for in a man. She was already twenty-eight, for pity’s sake, with one failed marriage behind her, plus a string of so-so boyfriends.

“I’m jinxed,” she grumbled as she turned her car into the suburban street where she had an appointment to meet Kay at nine-thirty.

A glance at the clock on the dash showed it was already nine-forty. She was running late, the result of an uncharacteristic case of Mondayitis. Usually, Josie couldn’t wait to get up and go to work on a Monday, especially now that she was working for herself.

But when the alarm went off this morning, she’d lain in bed for quite some time, thinking about the fiasco with Angus the previous night and trying to come to terms with the ongoing disaster of her personal life.

Was it her? Was she really jinxed? Or did she just want too much in a man?

Probably, Josie decided. Hadn’t she always? But the truth was she simply couldn’t bring herself to settle for less than what she’d always dreamt about, which was true love, plus her concept of a great sex life.

Not that she talked about this last part of her wish list anymore. Josie had come to the conclusion that her notion of a great sex life was outside the norm. So she kept the extent of her desires a deep dark secret. No way did she want her friends looking at her the same way her ex-husband had on their honeymoon, like she was some kind of raving nympho. When her girlfriends asked her what she wanted in a man, she now just said commitment and caring.

Even with this abbreviated wish list, Deb and Lisa said she was looking for something that didn’t exist. Which might or might nor be true. Josie was loath to take her two late-twenties-and-still-single roommates’ word for it.

Deb—a stylish blonde, but boyfriendless for over a year now—was the most cynical of the two. She thought all Australian men were selfish, and their idea of commitment and caring was remembering their current girlfriend’s name while they were bedding her. Lisa, a curvy bottle redhead who’d only recently split with her latest boyfriend after finding him in bed with his next-door neighbor, was going through an I-hate-all-men phase.

Josie was infinitely grateful that she was house-sitting at the moment while her parents were away, which meant she wouldn’t see Deb and Lisa till Wednesday, on their weekly girls’ night out. She simply couldn’t have coped with their toxic mixture of sympathy and sarcasm today. She could hear them now, spouting a fresh load of cutting comments about Aussie men and their shortcomings.

Thank goodness Kay didn’t talk like that, Josie thought as she spotted her co-worker up ahead, waiting by her car. Kay Harper believed in Aussie men, plus their ability to truly love a woman. An understandable point of view, considering Kay was married to one fantastic man, Colin. Josie might have been jealous of her one and only employee if Kay hadn’t been such a nice person.

Sliding her silver car into the blessedly empty spot behind Kay’s navy two-door, Josie waved over at her through the windscreen. Kay waved back, a ready smile on her cutely pretty face.

Although thirty-five, Kay was often taken for much younger, courtesy of her elfin features, slight figure and short, layered blond hair.

Not that she’d been born a blonde, like Deb. Kay was a believer in the adage that what you didn’t like about yourself, you changed. She’d also had a nose job in her twenties.

“Sorry I’m late,” Josie said with an apologetic smile as she jumped out from behind the wheel. “Slept in.” Too late, Josie realized that was a leading thing to say.

Kay’s blond tinted brows lifted in a suggestive fashion. “Really? That sounds promising. Do I take it you had a good night with Angus?”

Josie winced. What to say? Stupid to lie. But truly, she didn’t want to have some lengthy postmortem over what had happened with Angus, even with Kay. Best she get this over and done with as swiftly and painlessly as possible. “Actually, no, I didn’t.”

“Oh? What happened?”

“We ran into a former lover of his.”

“Oh dear. How awkward.”

“You have no idea. The former lover was a man.”

“What?” Kay looked almost as shocked as Josie had been at this discovery. “But…but I didn’t know Angus is gay.”

They’d both met Angus when Josie sought his services a couple of months back to revamp her company’s Web site. And both had thought him a hunk of the first order.

Kay’s shock quickly gave way to outrage. “If he is gay, then what the devil was he doing asking you out?”

“He claims he’s not gay,” Josie said dryly. “He’s just bisexual. Likes both gals and guys, often at the same time, and was I interested in a little threesome?”

Kay grimaced. “Oh, yuck.”

“My sentiments exactly.” As wild as some of Josie’s sexual fantasies were, they were always one-on-one with a heterosexual partner. Still, she had to wonder what it was about her that made Angus think she would be interested in that kind of thing. Perhaps it was the enthusiastic way she’d kissed him back on their last date. Whatever else he had been, Angus had been one very good kisser.

“I’ll bet you’re glad you kept to your no-sex-before-your-third-date rule,” Kay said ruefully before flashing Josie an alarmed glance. “You did keep to that rule with him, didn’t you?”

“Yes. Thank heavens. But last night was our third date and I was considering it. I shudder now just thinking about how close I came to an even greater disaster than my usual. I mean…I’ve picked some dud boyfriends in the past, especially in the bedroom department, but I’ve never picked a risk to my health!”

“A miss is as good as a mile.”

Josie rolled her eyes. “I’m finding it difficult to play the glad game this morning, Miss Pollyanna.”

“It’s the only way, sweetie. After all, there’s no real harm done, is there? It’s not as though you were in love with the man.”

“How do you know?”

“I remember what I was like when I first fell in love with Colin. You haven’t been like that with Angus.”

“Like what?”

“Distracted from your work. You’ll know when you’re truly in love, Josie, and so will I. Because your head will always be somewhere other than on the job. So far, in the time I’ve worked for you, that hasn’t happened.”

“No, I guess it hasn’t,” Josie conceded. “And I’m beginning to doubt if it ever will.”

“It will. There are plenty more fish in the sea.”

“That’s what you always say. But I have a feeling all the really attractive guys in Sydney are gay.”

“Rubbish! Sydney is chock full of good-looking straight guys.”

“Yeah. But they’re already married to clever women like you. And speaking of your being clever,” Josie swept on, deciding a change of subject was called for, “you’re going to have to be a very clever little decorator with this job I’ve lined up for us.”

“Oh-oh. That sounds ominous.”

“I have every confidence in you. After you’ve finished with this place, I’m sure it’ll sell for well over the reserve. Come on. Let’s go inside and I’ll show you our new challenge firsthand.” And she shepherded Kay into the square three-storey red brick apartment building which housed PPP’s new project.

“What’s the reserve price?” Kay asked with worry in her voice within a minute of stepping through the second floor apartment’s front door.

Josie gnawed at her bottom lip. She had to confess that the place looked much worse today than when she’d inspected it on Saturday. Of course, at the time, she’d been in a state of pre-date excitement. On top of that the sun had been shining, making the most of the ocean view and brightening up the starkly empty rooms.

Today was overcast in more ways than one.

“Josie?” Kay prompted as she opened and closed one of the battered kitchen cupboards.

Josie shrugged off the gathering clouds of pessimism, determined not to fall victim to such self-destructive emotion. She’d been there, done that after her divorce, and she didn’t want to go down that road again.

Admittedly, it was hard not to feel some dismay over her personal life this morning. She wouldn’t be human if she didn’t wonder and worry if she’d ever find someone even remotely close to her ideal man.

But no way was she going to let negative thinking creep into her working life. Work was the one thing she knew she could depend on. Work had always boosted her self-esteem and it gave her considerable satisfaction. Which was a lot more than any man had ever given her.

This project had been a good idea on Saturday, and it was still a good idea!

“Four hundred and ninety-five thousand,” she said with renewed conviction.

Kay swung round with wide blue eyes. “You have to be kidding. For this dump?”

“It’s not a dump in the real estate world,” Josie pointed out firmly. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment overlooking Manly Beach. A similar property sold at auction this last weekend for five hundred and seventy thousand.”

“I’ll bet it wasn’t in this condition.”

“No, of course not. Which is where we come in.”

“But you said the auction’s a week from Saturday. That hardly gives us much time. Less than two weeks…”

“It’s more than enough time,” Josie insisted. “And it’s not as though we haven’t done several similar jobs before. We have.” Property Presentation Perfect specialized in this kind of makeover.

Which was what Josie had told the real estate agent on Saturday, backing up her claims with PPP’s photographic portfolio of before and after shots. When he’d still looked doubtful, Josie had made him an offer any astute businessman could not refuse.

“If there’s no sale at the upcoming auction, there’s no fee. If the sale goes through, PPP gets a flat fee of five thousand dollars plus ten percent of the amount achieved over and above the reserve.”

Josie wouldn’t normally have offered such generous terms, but PPP was going through a bit of a slump during their second year of business. Which was one of the reasons she’d had their Web site revamped. Competition for the renovation dollar was very high in Sydney at the moment. With the proliferation of do-it-yourself shows on television, a lot of people now did their renovations themselves, rather than call in professionals.

Till business hopefully picked up again, Josie had started canvassing for work the old-fashioned way, calling on real estate agents face-to-face. She’d started with the major agencies on Sydney’s lucrative North Shore, on the assumption that each was sure to have a wealthy client or two off-loading run-down rentals which could do with a facelift. So far, however, she’d only found this one Realtor willing to give PPP a try. But he’d said if the idea worked out, he would be happy to recommend her to other clients and industry contacts.

“We need to make a success of this,” Josie told Kay. “Otherwise, you might have to find a job elsewhere and I’ll have to go back to working for Dad.”

Kay gasped. “Lord. The pressure! Well, it’ll certainly be a challenge,” she added wryly. “This décor is ancient. The tiles in the bathroom are pink and gray, for pity’s sake. As for this kitchen…” She waved a disparaging hand around the dingy and outdated layout. “It’s fit for the scrap heap.”

“Not after you’ve waved your magic wand,” Josie encouraged. The things Kay could achieve with a paintbrush were limitless. “With the right color scheme and furniture, this place will look like a million dollars.”

Kay laughed. “Who’s the optimist now?”

Josie shrugged. “No point in being otherwise. You said as much yourself. So stop being so negative!”

“Aye aye, Captain Courageous. But just remember, we have less than two weeks to achieve this miracle, meaning we have no chance of hiring our usual tradesmen. They’re booked up weeks in advance.”

“No worries,” Josie countered blithely. “We can’t afford too many tradesmen on this occasion, anyway. We’ll have to do most of the work ourselves. Our budget will just stretch to an electrician and a plumber, and the agent said we could use his. They’re on permanent standby to repair all his agency’s rentals. Otherwise, it’s just you and me, baby,” Josie said, linking arms with Kay and grinning down into her co-worker’s pained face.

Kay looked up at her much taller boss and laughed. “Like I said, you certainly weren’t in love with Angus. But speaking of that devil, what have you decided to do about next Saturday night? I mean…you haven’t got anyone to take to your class reunion now, have you?”

THE INSTANT and very intense dismay which claimed Josie’s face made Kay realize her boss had forgotten all about her class reunion. Which showed that underneath her boss’s let’s-get-on-with-life facade this morning, she was really quite upset.

Kay’s heart went out to her. She knew how much Josie had been looking forward to taking Angus to her ten-year class reunion. And she knew the reason why.

The last—and only other time—Josie had gone to a class reunion had been five years back, shortly after her marriage had broken up.

She’d confided to Kay how awful she’d looked—and felt—that night; like a total failure in the face of her other classmates’ seeming successes, especially this one girl, Amber, who’d made a grand entrance at the party on the arm of her communication tycoon fiancé.

Apparently, this Amber had been Josie’s nemesis at school, a snooty-nosed golden-haired rich bitch who never let a chance go by to make Josie feel like an inferior species. Given that Amber was hosting this year’s bash at her harborside mansion—she was now married to said tycoon—Kay could well understand Josie’s distress.

“I don’t suppose you could go alone again, could you?” she said without much hope of that happening. Yet really, Josie shouldn’t think she was a failure without a man on her arm. She ran her own business, for heaven’s sake.

Josie’s face showed horror at the suggestion. “I’d rather be thrown to the lions, because that’s exactly what it would be like. Being thrown to the lions. Or the lioness, to be precise.”

“You mean because of Amber, I suppose, the esteemed hostess of this masochistic do. You know, I used to work with someone like her. She hated my guts, mostly because I was a better interior decorator than she was. I dare say the same thing applies here, Josie. Your society princess felt threatened by you at school. You made her feel inferior, not the other way around. She saw you as competition.”

“Who, me? I can’t see how. Trust me when I say Amber Sinclair didn’t have any competition at school. Besides being the best-looking and most popular girl in our class, she was smart. The girl has brains, Kay. She’s not just some blond bimbo. The only thing I ever beat her at was math. But she beat me in every other subject. I can’t understand why I got up her nose so much. I really can’t.”

“Try looking in the mirror sometime, then.”

“But I wasn’t at all good-looking at school, Kay. Honest. I was gawky back then. Too tall and too thin, with a flat chest and far too big a mouth.” In every way, Josie recalled ruefully.

She’d had a tendency to speak her mind more than the average teenager, a consequence of being the only child of intelligent and loving parents. She’d joined in adult conversations since she was quite young and had been encouraged to have opinions.

Having opinions, however, guaranteed to make you an outsider at the rather old-fashioned all-girls’ school to which she’d won a scholarship. You got along much better if you were a docile little sheep, or the beautiful and brilliant daughter of a billionaire banker who’d donated a million dollars for the new science wing.

“Well, you’ve certainly grown into your looks now, girl,” Kay said, looking her boss up and down. “And your figure.” Josie was that rare creature, a natural beauty who would look good first thing in the morning or straight out of the shower, without any artificial adornment. Her long straight black hair needed no blow-drying to look fabulous. Her olive skin could easily go without makeup, as could her long-lashed, slanting, near-black eyes. And her mouth, which she claimed was too big, would be the envy of every model. Full lips were the in thing these days.

All in all, Josie presented an exotic and very striking package without having to make too much personal effort. She didn’t even exercise to keep her tall, just-curvy-enough body in shape.

Kay, on the other hand, had to work very hard to achieve her petite, fair-haired prettiness.

“My looks are not the issue here,” Josie pointed out wearily. “It’s my going alone.”

An idea came to Kay. “Then don’t go alone.”

Josie eyed her warily. “Why are you smiling at me like that? What are you thinking of, you wicked woman?”

“Something deliciously devious.”

“You’re going to lend me Colin for the night?”

“Do I look insane? Not on your life, girl! It took me thirty years to find my Prince Charming and he’s not for hire. But hiring is the name of the game. You’re going to hire yourself a drop-dead gorgeous male escort!”

“What? You’re not serious.”

“I am indeed. I can even tell you which escort agency to contact and who to ask for.”

“How on earth would you know that kind of information? You’re a happily married woman!”

“Yes, but I have a cousin who isn’t, and she’s the one who gave me the lowdown recently on Gentlemen Partners.”

“Gentlemen Partners! Don’t you mean Gigolo Creeps?”

“That’s what I thought when I first heard about this place. But Cora assured me it’s a very reputable agency with only genuine gentlemen on their books. Most of the escorts are aspiring actors or male models, trying to earn an extra dollar on the side till they make it in their field. Which is why they’re so good-looking. Cora’s used their services more than once.”

Josie laughed. “I’ll bet she has.”

“No, no, you’ve got the wrong idea. Sex is definitely not one of the services provided. Apparently, if there’s even a whiff of scandal, that particular escort—and client—is off their books in a flash.”

“Your cousin still must be a very confident woman to hire various men, even as just escorts.”

“She’s a rally-car driver, so she’s no shrinking violet. She’s also divorced, pushing forty and without a new man in her life as yet. She hates going to functions on her own, so occasionally she hires someone to go with her. Last weekend, she had to go to an industry awards dinner where she knew she’d run into her rally driver ex, so she hired this gorgeous young hunk—she said he was only in his midtwenties—and passed him off as her boy-toy lover. He’s one of the aspiring young actors’ brigade and had no trouble assuming the role. Cora said he enjoyed it. She also said her ex was as jealous as sin and she had the loveliest time.”

Kay was pleased to see that Josie was beginning to be intrigued by the idea. “Clearly this guy would have no trouble pretending to be your boyfriend,” she went on. “His name is Beau Grainger and Cora said he’s so good-looking, it’s almost criminal.”

“I don’t know, Kay. It doesn’t seem right.”

“What’s wrong about it?”

“I’m not sure….”

“It’s the perfect solution to your problem. You go to your class reunion and feel good at the same time.”

“But it’s not a real feel-good feeling. It’s only pretend.”

“So what’s the alternative? Staying at home and feeling sorry for yourself and knowing that have-it-all Amber is out there thinking you didn’t have the guts to face her? She wins. Again. Especially if she calls you later to find out why you didn’t show up.”

“She would do that, too.”

“What pathetic excuse will you use? Not the truth, I’ll bet. You’ll lie. You’ll pretend. Better to pretend my way than your way. Give your pride a break.”

Josie gnawed at her bottom lip as she often did when she was thinking, or worrying. Kay wondered if Josie realized that by the time she stopped, her bottom lip always looked fuller and sexier than ever.

Undoubtedly not. From what Kay could gather, Josie was unaware of the extent of her sex appeal. She never dressed sexily, or used her looks to her advantage. Not in the two years Kay had known her, anyway.

Frankly, the girl seemed to be a bit uptight about sex. She rarely brought the subject up herself, and she had these hard-and-fast rules about her sexual behavior, such as her no-sex-till-the-third-date rule.

That was fine as a rule, and possibly sensible in this day and age. But it did smack of a lack of spontaneity in that area. Kay could never imagine Josie coming on to a guy on a first date, for instance. Not like she had with Colin. Still, she and Colin had fallen in love with each other at first sight. Maybe, if Josie ever fell in love like that, she’d be a different woman.

Still, till then, she needed to loosen up a bit.

Daring to hire a guy as her boyfriend for the night, even on a pretend basis, might be a good start.

Josie kept looking doubtful, however. And finding excuses. “If this Beau Grainger is so good-looking, he’d already be booked up for this Saturday night.”

“Maybe, but there are still plenty of other gorgeous guys on their books. Cora said she was able to go through their photo files on their computer data base and pick whatever one she liked the look of. Sounds kinda kinky, doesn’t it?” Kay added with a cheeky grin. “Pity their services don’t extend to sex, in a way.”

Kay realized immediately that was rather an unwise remark. It seemed Josie’s sense of humor did not extend to the subject of sex.

Some assertiveness was called for, if they were to get over this hurdle then get back to work.

“Go on,” Kay urged. “Call information and find out the agency’s number right now. Then call them and see if the gorgeous Mr. Grainger is free. If so, book him. If not, then arrange to go in and pick out another handsome hunk who is.”

When Josie just stood there, looking blank, Kay took out her own cell phone. Truly, no wonder the girl hadn’t found Mr. Right. She didn’t have enough get-up-and-go in that department. Odd, really. She had plenty of get-up-and-go in every other way.

“I’ll make the inquiries for you,” Kay offered.

It didn’t take her long to get through, or to find out that Beau Grainger had no bookings for the following Saturday night.

“He’s free,” she whispered to Josie. “What do you want to do?”

“Huh?” Josie blinked. She could hardly think. Kay’s comments about choosing a guy off a computer had triggered a fantasy in her head unlike any she’d ever had before. In it, she’d hired a man whose looks she’d fancied, not as an escort, but as a lover. For one night. To do everything she’d always wanted a man to do to her.

For the first time in Josie’s life, love didn’t enter into her fantasy world. Neither did caring or commitment. Physical pleasure was the name of the game, with her partner a perfect stranger, a tall dark-haired stranger, with sexy blue eyes, a Bondi Beach tan and more bedroom know-how than Casanova. He was older than her, of course. Sex was his profession and his client’s satisfaction was his first priority.

“Do you want to hire this Beau Grainger to take you to the reunion, or not?” Kay demanded impatiently.

Josie dragged her mind out of the flames of her fantasy and back into cold hard reality, which was her class reunion next Saturday night, plus whether she should hire, not some gigolo to make love with her every which way, but a handsome hunk to salve her pride.

Not showing up was not a good option. When Brenda had called her just last week to check final numbers for the caterer—Brenda was this year’s class reunion organizer and Amber’s devoted dog-slave at school—Josie had stupidly boasted she’d be coming with her boyfriend.

The only positive thing about this awful situation was that she hadn’t mentioned Angus’s name. Josie supposed she could get away with showing up with any presentable male, as long as he was prepared to pretend he was her boyfriend. Which this Beau Grainger was obviously willing to do, since he’d been happy enough to pretend to be an older woman’s boy-toy lover.

“Josie?” Kay prompted.

Josie squared her shoulders. “Here. Give me the phone,” she said, and held out her hand.

Kay grinned and handed it to her. “Go for it, girl!”

Josie rolled her eyes. It wasn’t a question of going for anything. It was a question of pride.

2

CALLUM MCCLOUD HAD MIXED FEELINGS every time he flew into Sydney. Coming home was a two-edged sword, his pleasure at seeing his kid brother again always tempered by a niggling concern over what Clay might have been up to since his last visit.

Not that there’d been any nasty surprises on his last few visits. The problem was Callum couldn’t forget what had been waiting for him the first couple of times he’d come home after taking on his present job three years back.

Frankly, he would never have accepted an overseas position if he’d imagined that as soon as his back was turned, his brother would leave university to try an acting career. At the time, Clay had already turned twenty-one and was well into his medical degree, seemingly happy and settled.

Callum had been aware that his younger brother had once harbored a secret ambition to be the next Australian male actor to take Hollywood by storm. But he’d thought the boy had grown out of that pie-in-the-sky dream.

Not so, apparently.

To give him some credit, Clay had stuck to his guns, insisting that being a doctor had been their mother’s ambition, not his, and he shouldn’t be held to a deathbed promise that Callum had made, not him.

“You’re my brother, Cal,” Clay had pointed out. “Not my father. Let me make my own mistakes in life. This is what I want to do, so butt out!”

Although believing Clay was making a major mistake, Callum had finally agreed to support his decision, though not to the extent of working his own butt off and paying for everything while Clay went around going for endless and probably futile auditions. Clay admitted he’d already tried for and been rejected by NIDA, which showed what the most highly regarded acting school in Australia thought of his acting ability.

“You can stay on in my house in Glebe, rent-free,” Callum had grudgingly offered. “The house my hard work bought and renovated, might I add. But you’ll have to find a part-time job to pay for your food and clothes.”

Which Clay had.

Callum had gone back overseas that first time, believing Clay was flipping hamburgers in a local fast-food restaurant, only to come home a few months later to find him working as a male model for a famous swimwear company.

Callum wasn’t a narrow-minded man, just a very male one. The thought of his brother walking up and down the catwalk in skin-tight briefs just didn’t sit well on him.

And he’d said so.

“But the money’s good, bro,” Clay countered. “And I’m not about to turn gay, if that’s what you’re worrying about. Trust me on that.”

Callum did trust him on that. He’d been finding scantily-clad girls in his brother’s bedroom since the boy hit puberty. That wasn’t the point. The point was Clay had promised to stay put at the hamburger job, but as soon as Callum’s back was turned, he was off doing something else, something which he obviously thought he had to keep secret from his brother. Why?

“I’ve read about the modeling world,” Callum had commented at the time. “It’s full of drugs.”

“No more than the university,” Clay shot back. “And I didn’t do drugs there. Stop being so paranoid.”

“I’m not being paranoid. I’m just doing what our mother asked me to do. Looking after you.”

When Clay rolled his eyes at this and once again launched into his you’re-my-brother-not-my-father speech, Callum stopped arguing with him. After all, Clay was technically right. He wasn’t his father, though he’d felt like one ever since their real father had walked out on his family when Clay had been barely two months old. Callum—six, at the time—had suddenly found himself the man of the house, a role which he’d shouldered to the best of his ability. He’d been more father than brother to Clay for all of his life, a role which Clay obviously resented.

But someone had to keep an eye on the boy. Clay was far too good-looking for his own good. And not worldly-wise enough, in Callum’s opinion. Survival in the modeling—and acting—world required a level head on your shoulders. And a degree of maturity Callum had yet to see in his kid brother.

So here he was, still keeping an eye on him. Clay was no longer strutting his stuff as a male model, courtesy of a new agent who’d been getting him some real acting work, both on TV and in the movies. He’d been all good news over the phone the last few months. Not quite so chirpy yesterday, however, when Callum had phoned to let him know his estimated time of arrival.

Callum jerked his luggage trolley to a halt. Was that what had been niggling away at his subconscious during the flight home? Had his big-brother antenna instinctively tuned into some problem Clay had been trying to hide from him?

“You got a problem there, buddy?”

Callum took a second or two to realize that the customs officer was talking to him.

“Nope,” he returned, and pushed his trolley up to the customs desk.

“At least I sure hope not,” he muttered under his breath shortly after as he made his way down the walkway toward the arrivals terminal.

Clay was there, waiting for him, which was a surprise in itself, given it was seven o’clock on a Saturday morning. Early rising was not one of Clay’s virtues. Neither was being on time for unimportant things such as picking up his brother at the airport.

When Clay smiled, waved, and rushed over to him, Callum’s suspicion increased. This was a welcome fit for a pop star, or a big brother who needed sucking up to.

“Great to see you again, bro,” Clay greeted, throwing his arms around him and giving him a big hug.

“Great to see you, too,” Callum returned, drawing back to inspect his brother’s face closely for signs of dissipation and drugs. Fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the trouble. Clay was looking fit and healthy, his blue eyes as clear and bright as a cloudless summer sky.

Callum ran a few other possible problems through his mind. Clay had borrowed and crashed his big brother’s prized car? Run up a colossal phone bill? Gotten one of his girlfriends pregnant?

Surely that wasn’t the case. If there was one thing Callum had drummed into his kid brother it was the need for safe sex. Given the dubious circles he was now moving in, using protection was more important than ever. Callum had stressed this the last few times he’d been home.

“Man, but you’re looking good,” Clay complimented him with what Callum felt was decidedly false enthusiasm. Clay never gave a damn what he looked like. “Fantastic tan. Working in Hawaii agreed with you. Bet you’re sorry you’re all finished up there now.”

“Nope,” Callum said, more and more sure that something was up with his brother. “I’m always glad to move on.”

Which was true.

Callum loved his work as a traveling trouble-shooter for INCON, an American company which specialized in building shopping malls all over the world. He thrived on the challenges the job presented, finding great satisfaction in solving whatever engineering problems needed to be solved. But he also liked the constant changes in his lifestyle, the living in different places and meeting different people.

Most guys his age—he would turn thirty-one next birthday—started looking to settle down in one place, get married, have a family.

But that was not for him. Not ever.

“So where to next time?” Clay asked, keeping up his uncharacteristic chitchat about Callum’s life. Usually, the only person he talked about was himself. “What fabulous part of the world are they sending you off to next?”

“Don’t know yet. I have to go back to head office in San Francisco first.”

“When will that be?”

Callum wondered why that mattered. “A week from Tuesday,” he said. “Don’t worry, if you have to work that day, I can always catch a taxi to the airport.”

“No, no. No sweat. Tuesdays are always fine.” He flashed Callum one of his winning smiles. “So what are you going to do for the next ten days? Paint Sydney red?”

Callum knew his brother was mocking him. Clay thought he was a stick-in-the-mud, but Clay didn’t know him at all. Not the real him. He only knew the persona Callum adopted in his role as big-brother-cum-father-figure. He was a different person when he was away, when he wasn’t burdened by the feeling he had to set a good example for his brother, especially where the opposite sex was concerned. Clay would be very surprised if he knew the real facts of his brother’s private life.

“Not this time,” he replied dryly. “Between catching up on sleep and doing some surfing, I thought I might look around and buy myself another investment property. Got a pretty nice bonus last week.”

“No kidding. If you don’t watch out, you’ll own half of Sydney soon. Who would have imagined that being an engineer would pay so well? Still, being a Hollywood icon pays better,” Clay added with a grin. “When I’m making fifty mill a movie, I’ll buy myself one of those fancy harborside mansions. You know, the ones with the pool, the tennis court and their own private yacht mooring.”

“Speaking of your becoming a Hollywood icon,” Callum said as he swung his luggage trolley around and started heading for the exit. “Are things still going reasonably well in the acting department? I didn’t have time to ask you yesterday.”

“Yes and no. The character I was playing in that soap got canned and directors keep telling me at movie auditions that I’m too good-looking. But things could be about to look up.”

“In what way?”

“I’m going to this party tonight being thrown in honor of some visiting big boys from Hollywood. They’re out here, searching for a young Aussie hunk to play the lead in their new blockbuster movie. Harry said I was just the type they were looking for and wangled an invitation so that they can see me in person. This particular director and producer have a reputation for ‘finding’ their stars in unconventional ways, not at formal auditions.”

“In that case, you won’t be the only handsome young Aussie actor who just happens to be there tonight, Clay. I hope you realize that.”

“For crying out loud, do you ever get off being negative about my career? Look, I know the competition is tough, especially in Hollywood. I know the odds are stacked against me. But I still have to go for it. It’s what I’ve always wanted to do, bro. Always. I know you think I’m just a pretty face but I’m a damned good actor too. Harry says I have what it takes, and Harry should know. He’s represented the best.”

“Okay, okay, don’t get touchy. And I’m not being negative. I’m just being…”

“Bloody overprotective, as usual. Like I’ve always said, you’re my brother, Cal, not my…”

“Father,” Callum finished for him ruefully. “Yes, yes, I know. So tell me some more about these Hollywood big boys. Who are they and what have they done and no, I’m not being nosy, just showing an interest.”

In the five minutes it took to make their way from the terminal to where Callum’s thankfully uncrashed car was parked, Clay never shut up long enough to draw breath. For the first time, Callum witnessed his brother’s true passion for the film industry. He knew every movie this producer and director had collaborated on in minute detail, along with their personal backgrounds and future goals.

Callum began to finally understand that nothing was going to dissuade Clay from pursuing his dream, certainly not any of his warnings.

“You’re really looking forward to going to this party tonight, aren’t you?”

“You could say that,” Clay replied. “If anything happened to stop me going, I don’t know what I’d do.”

Callum realized then what was bothering his brother.

It was just tension over this party.

“What could possibly stop you from going?” he asked as he loaded his three large suitcases into the trunk of his car. With the job finished in Hawaii, he’d had to bring everything home with him.

CLAY LOOKED OVER at his big brother and knew he was going to have a fit when he told him about his problem. Callum’s reaction to his doing some male modeling had been bad enough. He was going to hit the roof when he found out his precious little brother had been working as an escort!

But he had to tell him; had to ask him to take his place, just for tonight. There was no other way. If he called the agency and canceled at this late stage his name would be mud. He also needed the money. He’d run up quite a bill on his credit card this last month, buying new clothes, first a tux for his escorting work, and then some seriously cool gear for this party tonight.

On top of that, as wimpish as it sounded, he didn’t want to disappoint his client. She’d sounded really nice when he’d called her on Thursday night to find out what was required of him.

Unfortunately, his client’s requirements presented an added problem, other than the obvious. Clay knew he’d have had no trouble pretending to be this girl’s boyfriend at her class reunion. He viewed each of his escorting dates as opportunities to hone his acting skills. Callum, however, would balk at such a ruse. He was hard pushed to pretend anything in life. He was a straight shooter, was Callum, and as stuffy as could be. Clay wondered sometimes if his big brother even had a sex life, though he supposed he did. Callum was one hell of a good-looking guy in that tall rugged mould. Lots of women would be attracted to his good looks, and his impressively fit body. It was just that he rarely dated when he came home, and never talked about women and sex the way other guys did.

Getting him to go on a date as a paid escort and a pretend boyfriend at the same time was not going to be easy. On the plus side, Clay knew that his brother loved him and would do anything for him, within reason. He just had to make it all sound both respectable and reasonable.

“The problem is I have to work tonight.”

Callum slammed the trunk shut, then glanced up, his dark brows drawn together over his deeply set blue eyes. “I thought you said you didn’t have any acting work at the moment.”

“I don’t.”

Callum groaned. “Oh, no, not more modeling work.”

“No. Nothing like that.”

“Then what?”

Clay crossed his fingers behind his back. “I’ve been working as a professional escort, and I have a pre-booked, pre-paid date tonight. I…er…was hoping you could take my place so that I could still go to the party.”

Clay almost laughed at the look on his brother’s face. Boy, was it a classic! He immediately slotted it into his acting memory bank for future reference, so that when a director told him to express shock, disgust, disbelief and indignant outrage all at the same time, he’d know exactly how to do it.

“Before you blow a fuse, bro,” Clay went on hastily when he saw his brother’s hands curl into fists, “let me point out that there are several groups of people close by in this carpark. I’ll hardly make a good impression on my Hollywood big boys if I turn up tonight with a split lip and a black eye.”

“I wasn’t going to hit you,” Callum bit out. “Though you need hitting, you stupid fool. My God, whatever possessed you? Silly question,” he muttered under his breath. “I suppose it was for the money. But surely you couldn’t have needed money that badly that you’d virtually prostitute yourself for it.”

“Hey, get off your high horse there. Being an escort is not synonymous with being a prostitute. I work for a very reputable agency called Gentlemen Partners, and sex is definitely not part of the service provided.”

“That’s not the general view.”

“Then the general view is wrong,” Clay refuted firmly, though his mind did fly to that one date a couple of weeks back. He’d not only ended up in bed with the woman but the next morning she’d pressed an embarrassing amount of money into his hands, all because of some stupid joke he’d made when he’d brought her home the night before. He hadn’t known what to do at the time. In the end, he’d just taken it and left.

Naturally, he wasn’t about to mention that one unfortunate incident to Callum.

His brother still looked furious. “Tell that to the gossip mags if you ever get your name up in bright lights and they find out what you once did for a living!”

“You think I haven’t thought of that? Why do you think I use a false name?”

Callum could not believe his brother’s naiveté. What was a name when he had a face like his? So strikingly handsome and so very memorable. Maybe this escort agency he worked for was extremely respectable, but a lot of those places weren’t. And mud did stick.

“How long have you been doing this?” Callum demanded to know. “How many of these…dates…have you been on?”

“Only half a dozen or so. I don’t know what you’re getting so het up about. It’s an ideal job. I can earn money at night and still have my days free to call on casting agencies and go for auditions.”

“Only ideal if you never make it big in Hollywood,” Callum pointed out. “You keep telling me you are going to make it big in Hollywood, aren’t you?”

“Too right I am.”

“Then I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll stand in for you tonight if you quit the agency tomorrow and find some other line of work. Something which won’t ever find its way into a gossip column. Fair enough?”

“Fair enough,” Clay agreed, and beamed at his brother. “Thanks, bro. You’re the best!”

Callum smiled a wry smile. Clay was always particularly agreeable after he got his own way. Or when Callum rescued him from whatever trouble he’d got himself into. In the past, Callum had stood up for his kid brother more times than he’d had hot dinners, but this was the first time he’d stood in for him.

One day, Callum hoped and prayed, he’d stop being his brother’s keeper. But not yet, obviously.

“Keys,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Ah, come on, bro, let me drive it home. I won’t speed. I promise.”

“No way, Jose. On the way home, you can tell me all about this stupid date I’m going on tonight. Where, what, when and who with? Which reminds me, what name is it you use for your escorting work? I suppose I’ll have to use it too.”

“Beau Grainger,” his brother said, grinning.

Callum winced. The things he had to do!

3

JOSIE LAY BACK in the bubble-filled bathtub, trying to relax and not think about the night ahead. Because there was no going back now. The deed had been done. She’d already hired the guy. Paid for him, too, with her credit card.

Not that she really wanted to back out of the idea. Kay had been right. It was the only way that she could go to the reunion and save her pride.

But it was a bold thing to do. And kind of scary. Beau Grainger might be a good actor and very adept at pretending to be a boyfriend. He’d obviously done a good job as a boy-toy lover. But could she successfully pretend to be his girlfriend?

She’d only spoken to him briefly the other night and while he’d seemed quite nice, she didn’t know anything about him except that he was twenty-four, and an out-of-work actor. They would have to exchange quite a few more details about each other and each others’ families on the drive from here to Elizabeth Bay, then invent a more suitably successful career for him, because Amber was sure to give her and her “boyfriend” the third degree.

Josie began to worry about that third degree. What if they slipped up and Amber twigged that their relationship was a charade? Even worse, what if someone there recognized Beau from another of his escorting jobs? When she thought about it, the idea was fraught with flaws and possible failings. Whatever had possessed her to agree to Kay’s urgings?

Was it too late to cancel?

People probably canceled at the last minute all the time. But Kay was going to call her in the morning to see how things went. Having to tell her she’d pulled out was not on.

No, it was all systems go and there was no point in worrying about it anymore. In less than three hours, she’d be arriving at her class reunion on Beau Grainger’s arm, and that was that.

Feeling better for her self-lecture, Josie leaned forward through the vanilla-scented bubbles and reached for the magazine resting on the side of the tub. It was one of those glossy women’s magazines which featured sex on every second page, alongside pictures of skinny models in unflattering poses.

Lisa had given this one to her last Wednesday night. Both Josie’s roommates were addicted to the things, especially the advice columns, which had letters from girls with even more pathetic relationships than they had. They claimed reading about other females’ miseries and mistakes made them feel better. However, Josie could really identify with that this week and was flipping over the pages to find the advice column first when her eyes were caught by the sealed section in the middle—that had been torn open!

STARTLING RESULTS OF OUR RECENT SEX SURVEY, the banner headline screamed. Then underneath, SEE WHAT IT IS WOMEN REALLY WANT!

Josie recalled Lisa mentioning that particular article when she’d handed over the magazine. Of course, men and sex were Lisa and Deb’s staple subjects of conversation, especially over drinks.

“Talk about hot stuff!” Lisa had exclaimed after downing her third cocktail. “But it makes you think. I mean…there are women out there actually getting that kind of thing. Amazing! I wish I could find a guy who’d deliver half of what’s listed in that survey.”

“Half!” Deb had crowed. “I’d settle for a quarter!”

Josie’s curiosity had been aroused at the time and she’d meant to read the article when she got home that night. But she’d just been too tired. She and Kay had been working extra hard all week, preparing then painting the walls of the apartment. By the time she’d arrived home after spending a couple of hours in a bar with her friends, she’d just collapsed into bed. Not even reading about unbelievably hot sex would have kept her awake.

But what better subject to get her mind off worrying about tonight? Josie had always enjoyed reading about sex. As a teenager, she’d devoured every sexy book she could find, living in avid anticipation of experiencing the joy of sex for real. Since reality hadn’t delivered any actual joy so far, Josie figured she could at least have some vicarious pleasure via the pen, as opposed to the sword, so to speak!

Smiling wryly at her clever pun, Josie lifted her elbows onto the sides of the tub, leaned her head carefully back onto the folded towel she’d placed there earlier, and started to read.

The whole article, she quickly realized, was devoted to a series of top ten lists. They started off pretty tamely, the first list being the top ten sexiest guys in the world, followed by the top ten sexiest guys in Australia. All quite predictable, filled with well-known movie stars, singers and sportsmen.

None set Josie’s heart a-thudding. She had her own idea of what the sexiest guy in the world would be like for her and it had nothing to do with those high-profile men. Her dream man was far more accessible. Far more real. He didn’t have to be drop-dead handsome, just reasonably attractive, with a well-built body, a well-stoked libido and a fertile imagination.

Oh, and he had to be all hers. Had she mentioned that?

Like Deb and Lisa said, he probably didn’t exist.

But she could dream, couldn’t she?

Flicking the page over, Josie’s darkly winged brows shot up when she saw the topic of the next list. Now this was more like it.

THE TEN SEXUAL POSITIONS MOST POPULAR WITH WOMEN.

AND WHY…

Josie worked her way through the list, her eyes widening as she read the variations and comments attached to each position.

“Oh my,” she breathed huskily at one stage, “I didn’t know that.”

And how would you, girl? Your range of sexual positions in your life so far stands at one. Man-on-top, woman-on-bottom. End of story!

Of course, she’d long known about all these other positions. Well…all except number five, that is. She’d never read about that one before.

It did irritate her, however, that the good old missionary position still made the list, and was raved over by several women. Raving certainly hadn’t been the case in her experience. Still, maybe if she ever found some man who could do it well, she might change her mind. She’d sure like the opportunity to try one of the variations mentioned, the one with the woman’s feet hooked over the man’s shoulders.

Finds my G-spot every time, was the comment.

No man had ever found Josie’s G-spot. She wasn’t sure if she even had one. Still, not too many men had found her clitoris, either, and she was very sure she had one of those!

The next double-page spread held an even more eye-popping and envy-making list.

THE TEN THINGS WOMEN MOST LIKE MEN TO DO TO THEM IN BED!

Josie groaned. Talk about practicing masochism. If there were men out there who did such things to and for their women, then fate had been very unfair to her.

Josie’s sexual partners so far had consisted of two wham-bang-thank-you-ma’am college students, one seriously undersexed and sanctimonious husband, plus a handful of poorly-informed and poorly-equipped boyfriends who didn’t last enough dates to be called true boyfriends.

What she wouldn’t give for one night with one of the lovers discussed in this list, the kind of man who could blow a woman’s mind, whatever that felt like. It was one of the remarks next to the number one thing women liked men to do to them in bed.

Josie could only dream about that activity as well. She’d never had the experience at all. Not once. Which was downright criminal, considering its ranking.

At this point, Josie wasn’t sure if she wanted to read the rest of the article. She hated feeling jealous of other women.

On the positive side, at least she now knew that she wasn’t abnormal. What she’d always wanted in bed was what a lot of other women wanted. And what far too many of the lucky ones got!

But who knew? Maybe some day, somewhere, she’d have some luck of her own and meet a man who would finally fulfil her sexual wish list.

Oh-oh, she was playing the glad game again! Kay would be proud of her. With a self-mocking laugh, Josie turned the page and confronted the last and longest list.

THE TOP TEN FEMALE SEXUAL FANTASIES!

Josie closed her eyes briefly, then opened them again. Might as well read the darned thing.

Actually, another small measure of relief came over Josie as she read the kind of sexual fantasies other women had. Not so very different from her own. Some were even wilder. Heck no, most of them were wilder. A couple were quite shockingly outrageous.

Of course, they were only fantasies. And fantasies weren’t meant to be enacted for real. They were just fun for the mind. Vicarious pleasure. Imaginative thrills.

Josie’s imagination immediately obliged and she was off in a highly erotic world when the phone rang.

Her first irritated thought carried regret that she hadn’t thought to bring the mobile phone with her into the bathroom. Josie’s second impulse was to ignore the ringing. But what was the point? The mood of the moment had been broken. Besides, it might be important. Her parents, maybe, calling her from wherever in the world they were at the moment.

Putting the magazine down, she climbed out of the bathtub, wrapped a towel around her bubble-covered body and hurried along to the master bedroom, and the nearest phone extension.

“Hi there,” she answered, sweeping up the handset.

“Josie, it’s Lisa. I know you’re probably busy getting ready for tonight, but Deb and I just wanted to find out what you ended up buying to wear. Did you go and look at those two dresses I told you about?”

Lisa had told her last Wednesday night about two party dresses she’d seen in a boutique window near where she worked in the city, insisting that both would look fabulous on Josie. One was red and one was black, and she’d been right. They had both looked great. They were also a lot sexier than the sort of dress Josie usually wore.

Still, the knowledge that Amber would no doubt show up tonight wearing some fabulously expensive designer gown had prompted Josie to throw caution to the winds.

“You’ll be pleased to know that I tried on both dresses,” Josie told her roommate, “and I bought one.”

Lisa squealed with delight. “Fantastic! Which one? The slinky red or the sexy black?”

“The slinky red.” And slinky it was, with its halter neckline and low, low back, making bra-wearing not an option. The black dress had been equally daring, being strapless and skin-tight, but it had been short. The invitation for the reunion had said black tie, which meant formal gowns—and formal generally meant long.

“Atta girl!” Lisa exclaimed. “I was worried you might buy something conservative. Wow, wait till Angus sees you in that tonight. He’s going to flip.”

Josie flinched. She’d lied by omission last Wednesday night, not telling Lisa and Deb a word about dumping Angus. And she certainly hadn’t told them about hiring an escort to take her tonight instead. They’d never let her hear the end of it. She’d let them think she was still going with Angus.

Silly her. Now she’d have to come up with a real lie tomorrow—the three of them were meeting for Sunday brunch in the city. Maybe she could say that Angus admitted to being bisexual when he brought her home after the reunion and that she wouldn’t be dating him anymore.

Yes, that would have to do.

Meanwhile, she didn’t want to discuss the man. Or the reunion tonight. She was getting nervous again, now that her mind had been dragged back out of her perfect fantasy world and into imperfect reality.

“Are you going to sleep with Angus this time, do you think?” Lisa rattled on.

Josie pulled a face. Deception had a way of escalating, despite one’s best efforts to contain it! “I…er…think I’ll just wait and see how I feel.”

“Gosh, I wish I had your control. But you don’t like sex much, do you?”

Josie shouldn’t have been surprised by this remark. If her roommates thought she was a bit of a cold fish where sex was concerned, then she had only herself to blame. But when she’d first met Deb and Lisa, she hadn’t been long divorced from Peter, and was still suffering all sorts of mental torment from his constant accusations about her desires. It seemed better to give her new friends the impression she was a tad on the stuffy side, rather than have them think she was a sex maniac. Still, Josie now knew she wasn’t a sex maniac at all, just a normal redblooded Aussie girl. Maybe it was time she redressed their misconception about her in that area.

“That depends,” she said.

“On what?”

“On who I’m having sex with. With the right man, I’m sure I’d like sex a lot. It’s just that I’ve been involved with some colossal duds when it comes to lovemaking so far.”

“Yeah. I know what you mean. Most men don’t measure up to our expectations. Still, maybe you’ll get lucky tonight,” Lisa went on eagerly. “You have one hot date there.”

Josie wondered what had happened to Lisa’s man-hating mood, but decided not to ask. Neither of her roommates ever really went off men for too long. They talked tough and bitter for a while after a breakup, but a good-looking guy only had to look their way and they fell in love all over again.

“I have to go, Lisa. I’ve just run a bath and it’s getting cold. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Have fun now.”

Fun! Fun was the last thing Josie anticipated having tonight. She’d be happy just getting through the evening without having everything blow up in her face.

4

CALLUM GAVE A LOW WHISTLE as he pulled his red car up outside the Castlecrag address his brother had given him. Ms. Josie Williams must have well-to-do parents to live here, he decided as he switched off the engine and glanced down the sloping front lawn to the large split-level home with its view of Middle Harbour.

Surely she couldn’t own this home herself. Not at the age of twenty-seven or twenty-eight.

Callum had deduced Ms. Williams’s age from the fact that tonight’s event was her ten-year class reunion. It was a case of basic math, given most graduates of Australian high schools were seventeen or eighteen. He knew no other details about her except she wanted a fake boyfriend on her arm to take with her to said reunion.

Callum tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and speculated once again over the reasons why a girl would want to hire a fake boyfriend.

The one and only logical reason hardly made him look forward to this evening. She was obviously desperate and dateless, a poor little rich bitch with more money than looks or personality. In other words, a plain Jane and a bore, who had difficulty getting a date, let alone a boyfriend, but who was determined not to go to her class reunion all alone.

Which was where he came in.

When he’d expressed concern to Clay earlier this afternoon over being able to pull this charade off, his brother’s advice was that he should simply treat the girl like a normal date.

“You do date occasionally, don’t you, bro?” Clay had almost taunted.

Callum had growled that of course he did.

“I was beginning to wonder. There you go, then. Just do what you do on one of your regular dates.”

Nice idea in theory, but Callum suspected Ms. Josie Williams would be nothing like any girl he’d ever dated. Callum only asked out confident career women who knew what they wanted, then went out and got it for themselves. Girls with balls, for want of a better word. Invariably beautiful, brainy and bold, they liked male company—and sex—but had no desire to marry at this stage in their lives. If ever.

Callum had had relationships with a series of such women over the past few years, and he’d remained friends with almost all of them after he’d moved on. Only once had he chosen poorly, a New York divorcée who had seemed an assertive independent spirit on the surface, but who was secretly a shattered and needy soul, ripe and ready to create havoc in Callum’s life when the relationship ended.

Having a firsthand experience with that kind of Fatal Attraction scenario had made Callum a once-bitten, twice shy kind of guy, partly because he never wanted to be subjected to that kind of personal harassment again. But mostly because he didn’t want to be responsible for hurting another woman like he’d obviously hurt Meg. He always made it his business these days to find out lots about a female before he asked her out, as well as keeping his eyes wide open during their first date. If there was any hint of emotional vulnerability or instability, then it was a peck on the cheek at the end of the night, and a swift adieu.

Callum suspected Ms. Josie Williams would disqualify herself from being a regular date of his on every level.

No, thinking of her as a regular date wasn’t going to work. He’d have to do what he really wasn’t all that good at.

Act.

Oh, well. He could only do his best. With a resigned sigh, Callum climbed out of his car, locked it and headed along the path which led past the garage and down some stone steps onto an L-shaped colonnaded porch.

The front door was in a recessed alcove, not visible from the street, with an elegant lamp light overhead, stained glass windows on either side and a doorbell in its middle. Callum pressed the button and waited. No one came, despite the rather loud chime echoing through the house.

Callum was about to press the bell again when the door was whisked open and he was confronted by a very different Josie Williams than the one he’d pictured. At least, he assumed the ravishing creature standing before him was Josie Williams, given she was around the right age and dressed to kill in a smashing red evening gown.

Wow! he thought, as his surprised eyes took in every inch of his date from the top of her shiny dark head to the tip of her open-toed high heels. This was one great-looking girl. She had it all. Long glossy black hair. Gorgeous olive skin. Sexy cat’s eyes. Cute little turned-up nose. And a mouth to drive a man wild!

And that was just her face and hair.

Her figure was equally sensational, and exactly the way Callum liked a woman’s body. Tall and slender, with narrow hips and breasts that were full without being top-heavy. His gaze returned to linger on those very nice and obviously braless breasts, which were cupped sexily by the cut of the dress, the halterneck style lifting them up and together into a very eye-catching cleavage.

Callum was certainly having trouble taking his eyes off her cleavage. Why such a hot-looking babe didn’t have a real boyfriend to take her wherever she might want to go on a Saturday night was more than a mystery. It was a crime!

Whatever the reason, Callum’s feelings toward the evening took a definite turn for the better. Of course, his date could be a total no-no in the brains department, but spending a few hours with her sure wouldn’t be hard on his eyes. Or his ego.

“Ms. Williams, I presume,” he said with a smile.

She smiled back—if a little nervously.

“Yes. That’s right. And you must be Beau Grainger? Come in for a minute.”

Callum nodded and followed her inside, privately thinking it was going to be difficult answering to such a stupid name all evening.

“You’re different from what I pictured,” she said, a slight frown gathering on her high forehead as she looked him up and down.

He could have said the same about her.

“In what way?” he asked, wondering all of a sudden if she was disappointed. Maybe the agency had described Clay to her and she’d been expecting a real pretty boy. Or maybe she’d just formed a mental picture in her head from talking to his sweet-talking brother the other night on the phone. It was as well that their voices were similar or she’d be saying he sounded different as well.

“You look older,” she told him.

“I’ve always looked old for my age,” he said by way of an excuse. Naturally, he did look older than Clay’s twenty-four. He was thirty, going on thirty-one.

“Does my looking older present a problem for you?” he added, the thought crossing Callum’s mind that maybe she’d wanted a younger boyfriend on her arm. Who knew what her secret agenda might be? She certainly hadn’t hired an escort because she couldn’t get a date herself the normal way.

“Oh, no, no, not at all,” she denied, but Callum thought he detected something in her expressive brown eyes. Guilt, perhaps? No, not guilt. Embarrassment. She was embarrassed by this situation.

Odd, since she was the one who’d orchestrated it.

“Better you do look older, I suppose,” she went on a bit brusquely. “I mean, given that I’m twenty-eight and you’re supposed to be my boyfriend.”

Callum frowned over the puzzle of this stunning twenty-eight-year-old. “Would you mind my asking why a girl like yourself doesn’t have a boyfriend for real?”

She laughed a small, dry laugh. “In actual fact, I did have a boyfriend. Till last weekend.”

“What happened?”

Her eyes flashed with remembered anger. “I found out he didn’t want what I wanted, and we came to an abrupt parting of the ways.”

“Aah…” Callum didn’t need to ask any more questions. Relationships were not easy, and many ended badly and prematurely, especially for the girls who wanted wedding bells and baby bootees. And, let’s face it, a lot of them did.

Most guys weren’t in any rush to get to the altar. Nowadays, the singles scene was a sexual smorgasbord and men tended to put off marriage till they themselves wanted to settle down and have a family. Most girls, however, were different.

At twenty-eight, Josie Williams was already at that age where she’d be seriously looking for a husband, whereas it was highly likely that all her boyfriend had had in mind was more fun and games.

“You didn’t have any other male friend you could ask to take you to your reunion?” Callum continued, wanting to put all the pieces of her puzzle together here.

“No,” she confessed. “No one appropriate. Certainly no one as impressive as you.”

When she looked him up and down again with admiring eyes, Callum wasn’t sure if he felt flattered or flustered. He’d never considered himself all that good-looking. He certainly wasn’t in Clay’s league.

Admittedly, his tall, broad-shouldered frame looked pretty good in the superbly tailored tux he’d bought when he was working in Milan last year. And as Clay had said, he did have a great tan at the moment.

Maybe his date had a yen for bronze and brawn.

Hell, he seriously hoped not. He was here to do a job, not be seduced by some female on the rebound, no matter how gorgeous she was. Damn, but he wished she’d stop looking at him like he was a cool beer and she’d just emerged from the Sahara Desert after a six-month trek.

As though reading his mind, she stopped the staring, but not before a quivery little shudder ran down her spine.

Who knew what she’d been thinking. It was probably best he didn’t know. Nothing turned Callum on more than his date being turned on.

“I suppose I should fill you in on the total picture,” she went on with a blessed return to the business at hand. “It’ll make your job easier if you know a bit of background stuff.”

True, he thought.

“The last time I went to a class reunion was five years ago. Unfortunately, it was just after I filed for divorce and I was a total wreck.”

Callum’s eyebrows lifted slightly. Divorced too, eh? She certainly didn’t have much luck with men.

“I should never have gone,” she muttered. “Certainly not alone. All I did was burst into tears all night. And I looked such a fright. I’d lost a lot of weight at the time. It was one of the worst nights of my life and the memory has haunted me ever since.”

Callum could well imagine. No one liked to look a fool, or a failure, in front of old school friends.

“I haven’t been to a reunion since, but when the invitation came for this year’s special ten-year reunion, I decided to go, just to show everyone that I’d really turned my life around. Unfortunately, I told the gossipy head of the organizing committee last week that I was bringing my new boyfriend. Fortunately, I didn’t tell them his name, but I stupidly bragged a bit about how good-looking and successful he was.”

“I see,” Callum murmured.

“Not entirely. There’s more. There’s this one girl, you see, who always hated me at school and got infinite pleasure out of witnessing the exhibition of myself I made at the last reunion. I guess she’s the one I want to show most of all. She’s hosting the party tonight at her multi-million dollar harborside mansion. She’s married to Ted Billingsworth. You know…the communications tycoon.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of him.” From what he’d heard, Callum didn’t like the sound of Ted Billingsworth. A womanizer from way back. Callum didn’t think he’d be any kind of prize as a husband, unless all you wanted out of marriage was money.

“Actually, when Angus became my latest personal disaster, I almost wimped out and stayed away. But then I heard about Gentleman Partners and their lineup of handsome hunks for hire and I thought, what the hell? Go for it! So I did. And here you are,” she finished up, her chin lifting in an attitude of spirited rebellion. “My own handsome hunk for the night.”

What a girl, Callum thought. She had the kind of pick-yourself-up-off-the-floor courage he admired. If she hadn’t also been highly emotional, sensitive, divorced and recently dumped, he might have asked her out for real.

“A hunk, anyway,” he agreed with a modest smile. “I’m not sure about the handsome part.”

“Are you kidding me? You’re drop-dead gorgeous!” she exclaimed before looking shocked at herself. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to gush. This is just so new to me. I mean, hiring a man for the night. But trust me, Beau, you are one very handsome man.”

“Well, I’m happy you think so,” he said. Yet he wasn’t happy. Here he was, with a gorgeous girl who liked him and he couldn’t lay a finger on her. Which was more than just a pity. It was downright frustrating.

It had been ages since Callum had had sex. Hawaii had been a total wipe-out where the ladies were concerned, the females who’d come on to him either being married, or desperately wanting to be. He’d been substituting surfing for sex for the last three months, and the result was one very nicely tanned but rather testy guy.

“When a colleague recommended you, I have to confess I was initially reluctant,” Josie prattled on. “But Kay insisted.”

Callum feared that his cover was about to be blown. “I’ve been hired by a colleague of yours in the past?”

“Actually, not Kay herself. It was her cousin. Cora.”

“Cora,” Callum repeated before realizing he was sounding like he’d been hired by so many women that they all blurred into one.

“You must remember Cora. She’s a rally-car driver, which is a pretty unique occupation for a woman. You took her to an industry awards dinner not long back. She certainly remembers you. She simply raved to Kay over your looks and your performance.”

“Really? And what performance, exactly, would that have been?”

Callum was astonished when she actually blushed. So! Madam wasn’t that bold, not if his unintended double-entendre embarrassed her.

“You…er…pretended to be her boy-toy lover for the evening,” she explained, her cheeks glowing. “To make her ex-husband jealous. You must remember. I was told it wasn’t long ago.”

“Oh yes…of course. Cora,” he murmured, digesting this highly interesting piece of information. It seemed he was getting Clay out of the escort business just in time. That boy had no common sense at all. Boy-toy indeed! What next?

“I thought if you had no trouble pretending to be a forty-year-old woman’s lover, then you’d have no trouble pretending to be mine.”

“You’re quite right,” he agreed. “Pretending to be your boyfriend will be a piece of cake.”

At this compliment, she blushed some more.

Ms. Josie Williams was an enigma all right, an intriguing mixture of daring and innocence.

“You ready to go then?” he asked. “My car’s parked right outside.”

“You know, I was thinking…I could easily call for a taxi. You might like to have a few drinks tonight. The beer and wine are sure to be laid on.”

“No, ma’am, I never drink on the job.” Now he sounded like a cop. A very pompous cop.

She smiled a stiff little smile. “I think you’d better call me Josie, don’t you?”

“Yep. I think you could be right there. And you can call me Callum.”

“Callum! But I thought your name was Beau?”

Callum knew he couldn’t stand that name all night. He’d wince every time she said it. With Clay out of that agency tomorrow what did it matter what name he used tonight, as long as he kept up the pretense of being from Gentlemen Partners. He had to do that, otherwise there might be trouble, and that was what he was always trying to avoid. Trouble.

“Beau Grainger was a name I chose for my escort work,” he explained. “Like a stage name. Frankly, I can’t get used to it so I’ve decided to revert back to my real name. Which is Callum. Callum McCloud.”

“Callum McCloud,” she repeated, savoring his name as one might savor a sip of wine. Very thoughtfully. “Yes,” she said, nodding. “That fits you better than Beau Grainger. Much better. I’ll just get my purse and shawl and we’ll get going.” She turned away to walk toward a nearby hall stand, her body in motion threatening Callum’s intention to keep strictly to his Gentleman Partner role tonight.

Frankly, he’d never been confronted by a more tempting sight in all his life. That curtain of gorgeous black hair swinging across her deliciously bare back brought seriously erotic images to mind. As did the split up the back of that long clinging red skirt, exposing great legs with shapely calves and narrow ankles.

Callum’s gaze stayed glued to her as she picked up a beaded black shawl from the hall stand, and threw it around her beautifully bare shoulders with all the style and grace of a flamenco dancer. It was a sensual movement, with a sexually provocative garment, the shawl being transparent behind the beads.

Callum was glad Josie took her time, checking her hair in the mirror first as well as the contents of a black beaded purse, then extracting a set of keys from the hall stand drawer before turning back to face him. By then, he had his wayward body under stern control.

Still, it seemed the coming evening wasn’t going to be the piece of cake he claimed it would be. Not unless he could have this piece of cake, and eat it too.

5

WHEN JOSIE FELT she could not delay any longer, she turned back to face him.

“Ready now,” she said in what she hoped was a casual yet confident voice. In truth, she hadn’t felt either casual or confident since she’d opened the front door and come face to face with a physical replica of her favorite fantasy lover.

Josie shrank from thinking back over the way she’d acted since that moment. The gobbling him up with her eyes. Her gushing over his looks, not to mention blushing over his perfectly innocent use of the word performance.

Of course, her wicked mind had immediately put a sexual connotation on it, after which her imagination had been off and running….

Her imagination had been off and running from the moment she’d set eyes on the man.

As she walked slowly back to where he was still standing in the front hall—looking oh so cool—Josie found it hard to believe her escort was only in his midtwenties. There was an air of masculine maturity about Callum McCloud that most young guys simply didn’t have.

Still, most young guys weren’t built like him. Neither did their marginally post-adolescent features have such definition. Josie really liked his strong, if somewhat sharp nose, his firmly sculpted mouth and determinedly macho jawline. She especially liked his hard blue eyes and outdoorsy tan.

His rugged good looks probably weren’t to every girl’s taste; hence his endearingly modest surprise that she thought him so handsome. But to her, he was the stuff her dreams were made of. Which meant she found him far too attractive for her to totally behave herself tonight.

But he’s supposed to be your boyfriend, Josie, the voice of temptation whispered as her gaze took in his fantastic body once more, shown off to perfection in that fabulous black suit. It would be only natural for you to hold his hand sometimes, or his arm, or even snuggle right up to him.

And then there’d be the dancing!

Josie’s heart quickened. There was sure to be music and dancing at some stage tonight. It was a party, after all.

The thought of his holding her close in his arms took Josie’s breath away. Lord, but she was going to have some super fantasies during the course of this evening, that was for sure.

Suddenly, Amber and her crowd were far from Josie’s mind as she recalled the fantastic fantasy which had swept her away at work the other day, where she’d hired a man for the night, not as an escort but as the kind of lover described in that magazine article.

What she wouldn’t give for that scenario to come true!

But of course it wasn’t going to. Despite his being her perfect dream man to look at, Callum McCloud was not here to fulfil her sexual fantasies. He was here to do the job she’d hired him for and which she should get her mind back onto, pronto, or risk making a bigger fool of herself than she had at the last reunion.

Chastened, Josie summoned up a polite smile and refrained from taking her pretend boyfriend’s arm as she joined him.

“I just have to lock up,” she said, glancing briefly up at him but carefully avoiding more than a fleeting contact with those sexy blue eyes. Looking into them too much was asking for trouble.

“Is this your house?” he inquired as she proceeded to lock the dead lock as well as the normal lock.

“Heavens, no, I could never afford a place like this. No, this is my parents’ home. I’m house-sitting for them while they’re overseas, doing Europe in six weeks flat. Silly time to go in November with winter on their doorstep, but my mother refused to go during peak tourist season. She hates crowds. It’s a bit of a pain having to look after the garden and feed the gold-fish every other day, but how could I refuse?” She smiled up at him.

“No brothers or sisters to help?” Callum asked her as she popped the keys into her black beaded evening purse then pulled the drawstring tight.

“No. Afraid not. I’m an only child. To be honest this house-sitting job hasn’t been nearly as bad as I thought it would be. I’ve been sharing an old place at Milsons Point with a couple of girlfriends for nearly three years now and I think I must have needed a break. I always imagined that living alone would be awfully lonely, and perhaps it would be, in the long term. But at the moment, I quite like coming home to peace and quiet, with no one to interfere with whatever I want to do, or say.”

Too late, Josie realized she’d been staring up into his eyes for far too long, because all of a sudden, she found herself wallowing in a new fantasy where Callum brought her home tonight and simply didn’t leave. Not for the whole time her parents were away. He’d be waiting for her every evening when she came home from work. Waiting and willing to do whatever she wanted him to do…

“I know exactly what you mean,” he said ruefully. “I like my own space. I would never live with anyone else.”

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