When a lighthearted contest takes a dangerous turn, millionaire real estate mogul Brent Bramwell will do anything to protect a sexy, quirky shop owner in this fan favorite from New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster

Shadow Callahan is enlisting sexy men to participate in a contest designed to drive traffic to her shop, Sex Appeal. So when the gorgeous, buttoned-up Brent Bramwell falls into her life—literally—she’s delighted to recruit him for the cause. His attraction to her is a definite bonus, but is there room for her in Brent’s orderly, high-society lifestyle?

Brent knows life with Shadow means a walk on the wild side, but once he’s had a taste of her, he can’t get enough. Too bad he’s not the only one who wants her. When a stranger’s gifts escalate from romantic to frighteningly personal, can Brent regain enough control to keep Shadow safe?

“You want to be a mother now?”

Brent sounded shocked and Shadow couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t look so worried! You’re in no danger. I’ll probably go through a clinic. You know, artificial insemination 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.

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

Brent grinned. “I was taking it more as a challenge.”

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

“Still,” Brent said, “as long as we’re both in agreement that marriage isn’t what we’re looking for, 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.

Dear Reader,

May marks the celebration of Get Caught Reading, a major campaign in North America created by publishers to promote the joy of reading. Why not visit your local bookstore, shop online or go to the library? I hope you’re caught reading Lori Foster’s latest Temptation novel, Sex Appeal!

May also marks the launch of HEAT, an exciting new promotion in Temptation. And who better to lead off this program than Lori, a writer known for her sensuous writing style? In the months to come, watch for more hot, passionate reads from all your favorite Temptation authors.

In September, look for Lori Foster’s first Mills & Boon single title, Caught in the Act, followed by two special linked Temptation novels in October and November.

I hope you enjoy all our wonderful books and “get caught reading” today!

Birgit Davis-Todd

Senior Editor & Editorial Coordinator

Mills & Boon Temptation

* * *

Get ready to feel the…

Sex Appeal
Lori Foster

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To RBR, Romance Books and Readers online loop.

There’s not a nicer group of fans and friends

to share my morning coffee with.

You give me the perfect way to start each day.

Thank you!

CONTENTS

Cover

Back Cover Text

Dear Reader

Title Page

Dedication

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER 1

YOU’VE BEEN A BAD BOY. Go to my room.

Those particular words, boldly printed on a soft, white cotton sweatshirt and drawn tight across a rounded female chest, caught Brent Bramwell’s eye. He’d been perusing the new strip of eclectic shops, seeing that everything was in order now that most of the spaces had been leased, when he’d caught the flash of movement in a display window.

Curiosity got the better of him, and despite the icy chill of the early November wind, he slowed his gait. All he could see of the body in the sweatshirt was the middle. Involved in hanging new blinds, the woman stood on a stool or step ladder, her face hidden from view by the sagging blinds. The windowsill concealed her legs from her thighs down.

But what he saw in between—now that was enticing. Curvy hips, slim thighs, luscious breasts.

He approached slowly, ignoring the lash of frozen snow pelting his cheeks and tossing his hair. He read the words on the sweatshirt again and wondered what type of female would advertise such a suggestion. Close to the window now, only a few feet away, he stopped to stare as she stretched upward. The sweatshirt rose to give him a view of the smooth, pale skin of her midriff. He even glimpsed her navel, a shallow dent in a very cute belly.

He caught his breath and in that instant she stepped down, looking directly at him. Her huge light-brown eyes, heavily lashed and faintly curious, sparkled with humor.

He fell. Hard.

Literally. His feet slid out from under him on the icy walk and Brent found himself flat on his back staring at the gray, blustery sky, the wind temporarily knocked from his lungs.

He was still struggling to breathe when he heard the shop door open. The woman rushed outside, the cold air ruffling her dark curly hair, then she, too, did a slip-slide act as she attempted to maneuver on the ice. Doing a better job than Brent, she caught her balance and knelt beside him. As she reached for his head and cradled it between her warm palms, he stared at her—stared into the prettiest brown eyes he’d ever seen. They were deep and compelling.

Her voice anxious, her cheeks flushed, she asked, “Are you okay?”

Brent searched for something to say, but came up blank. He simply nodded, not sure he could speak. Embarrassment warred with discomfort. The sidewalk was hard, scattered with bits of salt and ice, and so cold his teeth began to chatter.

She frowned. “Let me help you up. Can you walk?”

He started to respond with a disgruntled “yes,” then thought better of it. She was cute, not shy in the least, and he was interested. “I think so,” he answered, then waited to see what she would do.

Without hesitation she slipped one arm beneath his shoulders and attempted to help lift him. Brent was a big man. Another man would have had a hard time supporting him, but she tried, he’d give her that. He felt her slim arms go around his waist, felt her shoulder wedge into his armpit as she pulled his arm over her shoulders. Her softly curved hips pressed into his thigh. Once they both stood, he towered over her.

Together, slipping around a bit, they started forward. He gave her only a little of his weight, just enough to keep her glued to his side. She led him into her shop. “I’m really sorry about that. They’ve been throwing salt down all afternoon, but with these temperatures, the ground just keeps freezing.” She peeked up at him, mesmerizing him with those big brown eyes. “I hope you didn’t hurt anything.”

She was, without a doubt, adorable. Her dark, curly hair was cut in a tousled style and looked as fine as silk. Her cheeks were now very pink from the cold, but otherwise she was pale, her skin flawless. Brent leisurely looked her over as she led him to a seat behind the checkout counter.

She had on very snug, faded jeans and white leather sneakers. The sweatshirt was softened by age, adapting to her body, to her breasts. Now that he was sitting down he could examine her more thoroughly. He didn’t miss the fact that her nipples were puckered from the cold.

“I’m fine,” he told her as she peered at him anxiously. “I believe I only bruised my pride.”

Her wide grin took his breath again. “Oh, I don’t know. I imagine you may have a few other bruises as well if you take the time to look closely.”

Surprised by her brazenness, Brent said, “It’s possible, I suppose.” Then he asked, “Who are you?”

Thrusting out her small hand, she said, “Shadow Callahan. Proprietor.”

Brent took her hand and continued to hold it, noticing how small and delicate it was. And warm, despite the cold. “Shadow? That’s an unusual name.”

“Yes, well, most everyone tells me I’m an unusual person.”

“How so?”

Shadow glanced down at their clasped hands. Her grin widened. “Isn’t this a rather long handshake? According to an article I recently read, when a man retains his grasp on your hand for more than three seconds it’s an unqualified come-on.” Her eyes twinkled at him. “Are you per chance coming on to me?”

Brent was totally taken aback. He released her hand, but he did so slowly, refusing to let her see his surprise. He said deliberately, “I believe I was contemplating exactly how ‘bad’ I would have to be to get sent to your room.”

She disconcerted him again when she laughed. “I didn’t expect to see anyone today. The shop is closed for the rest of the evening. Usually I only wear this around close friends.”

“Close male friends?”

She shrugged, drawing his eyes to her breasts once again. “A friend is a friend, regardless of their sex.”

“Ah. Not true. Men only befriend attractive women when they have ulterior motives in mind.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back on the wall, completely at ease. “You speak from experience?”

He openly studied her. “Of course.”

“You know,” she drawled, still smiling, “you look like the devious type. Let me guess at your name. Hector? Lucius? You look like a Lucius, with a foul and evil mind.”

“If that’s so,” Brent answered slowly, somewhat irritated by her bold manner, “why did you bring me inside? Wouldn’t you consider it dangerous to let a large, devious man in when you’re all alone?”

She gestured at the uncovered windows and the flow of human traffic on the walk just outside. “I think if anything too outrageous or risqué occurred, someone would surely notice.”

He rubbed his chin. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Hector. I really didn’t have the time right now to be ravished, anyway.”

“Will you continue to call me Hector if I don’t introduce myself?”

“Of course. At least, for about two more minutes. Then I’ll really have to insist you allow me to get back to my chores.”

Brent stood and formally offered his hand. She took it. “You’ll be disappointed to know I’m an angelic Brent. Not a Hector. Brent Bramwell to be exact.”

With a slight smile, she looked him over from head to toe. “It fits. And you’re wrong. I’m not the least disappointed to meet you, Brent. On the contrary, you’re just what I’ve been looking for.”

She appeared amused as Brent again held her hand too long. “I must have fallen harder than I thought. What did you say?”

“You heard me right,” she assured him as she pulled her hand free. “Just look at you. Tall and handsome. Your coat is a little concealing, but I believe you’re even well built. And not too old. About mid-thirties?”

“Thirty-four,” he answered automatically, then asked, “What exactly am I being interviewed for?”

* * *

SHADOW LAUGHED, drawing up another stool for herself and gesturing for Brent to sit.

He really was very attractive. She’d noted that right off. His green eyes were intent and direct, his tawny brows heavy, now lowered in an annoyed frown. He had lean features, his nose straight and narrow, his cheekbones high, his jaw firm. And his mouth… He had a very sexy mouth, sculpted, his bottom lip slightly full, a small dimple in his left cheek. She sighed.

Best of all, at least to her way of thinking, he had a dry, droll kind of wit that amused her. There were very few things she liked more than laughing. She was finally at a point in her life where she could indulge to her heart’s content in the sheer happiness of being alive. Her constant and unwithering optimism was one reason people always thought she was different, perhaps even a touch strange. And even that she found amusing.

Her perusal of his person had him looking ready to spit, so she decided to explain. “The specialty stores in the complex have decided to group together and have a contest—we’re calling it ‘Love and Laughter.’ Each of us is responsible for finding ten men who fit the description of what single women are looking for—mainly attractiveness, a sense of humor and a romantic nature. Photos of the contestants will be on display in our shops, and any woman coming in can vote for her favorite, one vote per visit. Of course, we hope that’ll mean more traffic to the stores.”

Apparently she’d shocked him again, so she went on before he could collect himself and start objecting. “There’s lots of incentive for guys to enter. Each shop is contributing. The grand prize—the contest winner takes a lady of his choosing on a paid vacation—will be supplied through the travel agent. Photography’s being supplied by the photographer two doors down. There are other prizes, like free coffee and a Danish every day for a month, and a variety of discount coupons. A two-hundred-dollar gift certificate from me. All in all, it’s a pretty impressive package.”

Brent didn’t say anything, simply stared at her with narrowed eyes. Shadow had a hunch she’d somehow offended him, or at the very least, irritated him. She asked curiously, “How tall are you?”

That brought him to his feet. “I think I’ll be going now. It was, uh…uncommon meeting you.”

Shadow scrambled after him, wondering exactly which part of what she’d said had been too much, when he abruptly halted. He gazed around her small shop in something akin to wonder, his eyes alighting here and there on particular items. “What the hell kind of business is this?”

Immediately affronted, Shadow propped her hands on her hips. “It’s a novelty shop.”

Brent took two long strides toward the door, stuck his head out and looked up at the sign overhead. “Sex Appeal? What kind of a name is that?”

“I’ll have you know a friend of mine in advertising came up with that name, along with a nice advertising campaign. She also contributes some of the slogans I use on shirts and things.” His eyes were so dark now they looked black rather than green. Shadow tilted her head. “Would you like a brochure?”

He turned to face her. “Why don’t you just explain to me what type of business you’re running here.”

She frowned, feeling stubborn for just a moment, then shrugged. It really wasn’t worth getting annoyed over. She ran a hand through her hair, glanced around and wondered where to start. “I sort of specialize in sexy items,” she said finally. “Not your usual silk and satin negligees. I’m not that serious and I don’t think love should be, either. What I sell is fun. And comfortable. Sexy can be fun, and vice versa, if the right woman wears it. I think men have known that for a long time.”

She saw that she held his interest, and expounded on her theories. “I took a poll once, and do you know most men thought women looked very sexy when they were rumpled? Can you imagine? I mean, women run around all the time trying to be perfect. Perfectly manicured, perfectly attired, smelling perfect with their hair styled perfectly. It’s all nonsense.”

He didn’t look convinced.

“One man,” she said, “who’d been married to his wife for ten years, told me it really turned him on to see her in her apron, cooking. Another told me his wife was sexiest when she first woke in the morning, all warm and drowsy. There was a young college guy who said the sexiest thing he’d ever seen on any woman was a pair of well-worn cutoffs. But a sense of humor was top of their lists.”

“So what do you sell?” Brent asked, his curiosity snagged. “Aprons and cutoffs?”

Shadow scoffed at him. “Of course not. I sell shirts, like this one, that are just plain humorous. And under-things made of the softest cotton, which I can tell you is a lot more comfortable than silk.” She didn’t miss the way his eyes widened, possibly over her disclosure of the type of underwear she preferred. She crossed the room to lift a nightgown from the rack. “Take this gown, for example. It’s soft and warm and comfortable.” She slipped her hand inside. “But also pretty much transparent. See my fingers?”

He watched as she pressed her palm against the bodice of the gown. “Hmm.”

“And all these tiny buttons down the front are a challenge. Can you just imagine standing there, waiting, watching while a woman—”

“You?”

“Any woman you want,” she clarified, “undid all those little buttons?”

“She could just pull it off over her head.”

Exasperated, Shadow said, “That wouldn’t be any fun. You have to use your imagination a little.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

She stared at him, the gown hanging from her hand. “All right. I can see you aren’t the type to appreciate humor at just any old time.” She returned the gown to the rack. “Would you still like to fill out an application for the contest? I need three more men to meet my quota.”

“I’ll have to think about it.”

At least he wasn’t turning her down outright. She took a little comfort in that. “Don’t wait too long,” she cautioned him. “We have to have all the entrants photographed before the end of November. The contest will run the first two weeks of December.”

“Photographed? As in posed in some lewd and revealing way?”

“Of course not.” She almost laughed at his appalled expression. What did he have to hide? she wondered. Hoping to reassure him, she said, “You don’t have to expose yourself, but we are encouraging the rugged look. You know, jeans and boots. You can show your chest if you want, but that’s all. The friends I talked into entering wore flannel shirts or sweaters. This is a classy operation. No sleazy shots allowed.”

Brent pursed his mouth, his darkened gaze going over her once again. It disconcerted Shadow.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Thinking.”

“Oh? About what?”

“Actually,” he said, his smile very nice, “I was thinking we should have dinner and discuss all this in more detail.” He looked at her ringless hand pointedly. “You’re not spoken for, are you?”

“Only by about a half dozen guys. Nothing serious.” Despite herself, Shadow was interested. He was a little aloof, a little uptight, but he was still a hunk and quick with the banter. “What about you?”

“Is that part of the criteria?” he asked. “That I have to be single to enter the contest?”

“No. That’s part of the criteria if you want me to have dinner with you.”

“Then I suppose I should admit I’m entirely single, new to town and therefore completely alone and unattached.”

“All that?” She grinned, realizing that he was flirting with her. She liked it. “Truth is, I’m fairly new to this area, too, although I’ve already made several friends, so I can’t claim to be entirely alone.”

He glanced at his watch. “I’m late now for a meeting, but I can come by and pick you up in an hour.”

Shadow tilted her head, studying him. “Why don’t we hold off on dinner. After all, I don’t really know you. Your name could be Hector, and you might have lied about the rest. But I’d be glad to have lunch with you tomorrow. Here? At the coffee shop?”

He hesitated so long, Shadow was afraid her reserve had chased him off, but she had to be cautious. She knew that.

She was ready to call the whole thing off herself, hoping to save face, when he said, “You have beautiful eyes. I’ve never seen that shade of brown before. Warm, like whiskey. Lunch will be fine. Around noon?”

He’d said it all in one long, drawled comment. Had he done that on purpose, mixing outrageous compliments and suggestions to take her off guard? “Noon would be fine. I’ll meet you there.”

“No. I’ll come here and we’ll walk up together.” As he left, he picked up one of her brochures, and Shadow saw him make note of her name and business number printed in the upper corner. He left without another word, this time stepping very carefully onto the icy walk.

After he’d gone, Shadow put her hand over her heart. It drummed madly against her palm. Good grief, a man like that carried a lot of impact, and she’d barely gotten to know him. Still, she’d recognized right off that he liked to control all situations. He had been equally put off by, and intrigued with, her bold manner.

Lunch, she thought, should prove interesting.

* * *

AFTER A LONG NIGHT of pondering possibilities, Brent had decided he was pleased to be leasing business space to Shadow Callahan. Very pleased. “Micky, I need you to hunt up a file.”

“Yes, Mr. Bramwell. Which one?”

Brent lounged back in his office chair, his eyes on the brochure laid open on his desk. “Ms. Shadow Callahan. She’s leasing at the new buildings over in South-watch.”

“I’ll have it in a minute.”

“Thank you.” Brent studied the brochure, advertising everything from board games to perfumed oils, specialty clothing to self-help books promising to put the fun back into your sex life. It was so outrageous as to be laughable. And profitable. Brent could easily see such a novel idea catching on. The woman who had come up with the concept most assuredly intrigued him.

He couldn’t remember ever meeting anyone so animated, or so lovely. Ms. Callahan, even dressed in old jeans and a sweatshirt, exuded blatant sensuality and confidence. Her appeal had nothing to do with clothing or store-bought fragrances. It was attitude, the way she moved and spoke, the way she smiled so easily. She was sexy as hell.

Brent was always very conscious of women and their motives; he had to be. Women gravitated toward him because of his bankbook and his connections, not his looks, certainly not his character. He could have been a troll with the nastiest disposition and still women would try for his attention. It’d been a long time since he’d felt the thrill of the chase. Hell, it had been a long time since there’d been any need for a chase.

But Shadow Callahan, with all her compliments and open appreciation, didn’t know he had money. So why had she been so intent on controlling the situation? He’d recognized that intention immediately, because it was usually his objective, as well. And for a minute or two there he’d actually allowed her the upper hand, merely out of surprise.

Micky brought in the requested folder and Brent got down to business. He’d be seeing her again in just a few short hours, and he wanted to be prepared this time. Shadow—what a name—didn’t yet know that he held her lease, and that was just fine by him. He’d take all the advantages he could get. But before he had any more verbal skirmishes with her, he’d find out all he could about her, and there was no way he’d let her take him by surprise again.

* * *

SHADOW DIDN’T GIVE BRENT a single thought that morning. She was far too busy with holiday shoppers who used her novel stock of items to take care of those hard-to-buy-for people on their lists. She enjoyed it—the rush, the interaction with customers, the excitement over a particular item that someone decided was “just perfect!” She didn’t have time to waste thinking of Brent.

Yesterday evening, though, she’d thought of him plenty. He was interesting. More so than the men she’d met of late, who mostly bored her with their attentions. She wasn’t certain what exactly appealed to her about Brent, but she’d figure it out. When she had the time.

He came in at quarter to twelve, his lean cheeks ruddy from the cold. Shadow sent him a quick smile, then turned back to the young women who were trying to decide between two different board games.

“This one’s a little more expensive and it takes longer to play. But the concessions each player has to give were designed and written up by a well-known psychologist, and—” she bobbed her eyebrows “—guaranteed effective.”

The women giggled, suitably impressed. Shadow went on, motioning to the other game. “This one’s more good-natured fun. You make up your own concessions or rewards as you go along, depending on your partner.” The choice was made and Shadow rang up the sale, wishing the women luck and reminding them to enjoy themselves.

Brent approached her, taking in her outfit with careful consideration. Shadow grinned at him. “Do you like it?”

She’d dressed like a snow bunny. Her thick cotton top fell to the middle of her thighs and she wore leggings tucked into soft leather boots. As she turned for him, holding her arms out to the side, Brent read the words written across her back: Face It—Forty Never Looked This GOOD.

He shook his head. “Very nice. But you’re not forty.”

“How would you know?” She was thirty-one, but she hadn’t told him that. She smiled. “My driver’s license is safely tucked away in my bag. Have you been peeking?”

All he said was, “I know you’re not forty.”

“Do you think I look good for forty?”

“Too good,” he said meaningfully. “I thought women always claimed to be younger, not older.”

“Now why would I do that? If I said I was twenty, people would think I looked terrible for such a young age. But for forty, I ain’t so bad.”

“Lady, I think you look damn fine regardless of your age.”

He said it so sincerely her heart gave a quick thump of excitement. She hid that reaction well. “Let me get my coat, drag my assistant up from the back and then we can go.”

When Shadow returned from the back room, she was followed by a woman whose arms were ladened with printed bedsheets. As Shadow shrugged into her coat, she made introductions. “This is Kallie, my indispensable right hand and a very nice, if somewhat shy, lady. Kallie, this is Brent Bramwell. We’ll be down at the coffee shop if you need me.”

Kallie smiled. “Take your time. I can handle things.”

“Of course you can. I never doubted it for a minute. When you finish stacking those, hang one up so everyone can see the print, okay? Maybe even near the window, where passersby will catch a glimpse of it.”

Brent took her arm and led her out the door. “What do the sheets have printed on them that you want everyone to see?”

Even with their heavy coats and the frigid wind, Shadow could feel the warmth of Brent beside her. She dodged an icy patch and stepped closer still. “The, ah, proper placement of body parts.”

Brent missed a beat, then laughed. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” She crossed her heart. “It’s kind of a visual instruction manual. I expect them to be big sellers.”

“Have you bought any for yourself yet?”

The coffee shop was only two doors down, so they had already reached it before Brent asked his question. Shadow went in, breathing deeply of the wonderful aroma of fresh baked bread, pastries and flavored coffees. “I love it in here,” she said, in lieu of giving him an answer. “There’s nothing quite like the smell of yeast and warm bread to make you feel comforted.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I can think of a few scents I prefer.”

Shadow slipped off her coat, took a seat at a small table, then waited until Brent had removed his own coat and taken the seat across from her. Propping her cheek against her fist on the table, she studied him. “I’ve annoyed you. That’s why you’re being so outrageous.”

Brent cocked one eyebrow upward. “Outrageous? I thought I was making idle conversation.”

Shadow watched him a moment longer, then sighed. “Okay. No, and I suppose that’s true for many men, and probably many women as well.”

“I beg your pardon?”

She laughed at his confusion. “I was answering your questions, since you claim they weren’t outrageous. No, I don’t own a set of the sheets, and I agree many men might name scents other than baking bread as appealing. But that’s also true for women.”

“But not you?”

She wagged her finger at him. “Me, I like baked bread. Very safe, you know. Ah, here’s Eliza.”

Shadow went through more introductions. Eliza, one of her friends, looked Brent over with a calculating eye.

“I’ll have a salad,” Shadow said, interrupting the intent scrutiny, “and a tuna sandwich on rye, with an apple tart for dessert.”

Brent glanced at the menu briefly, then ordered the same.

“Do you want to try today’s special coffee blend?”

Before Brent could answer, Shadow said, “Sure. Bring us a pot.”

As Eliza walked away, Brent frowned. “What exactly is the day’s special blend?”

“I have no idea. But her coffee is always wonderful. And I like to be adventurous.” She stared at her water glass and added, “Don’t you?”

Brent leaned back in his chair. His eyes glittered with intent, giving her just a shade of warning.

“I’ll be busy most of this week getting settled in,” he told her, “but if you’re really so adventurous, why don’t you agree to have dinner with me on Friday?”

It was only Monday. Shadow felt a little crestfallen that he didn’t want to see her again until the end of the week. “I don’t know. I’m not at all sure you’re trustworthy. Gorgeous, but also a quick talker. I get the feeling you can be dangerous, and I’m usually pretty good at reading people. I didn’t used to be….” She shrugged. “But I am now.”

“You sound cautious, not adventurous.”

“There’s a difference between being adventurous and being just plain stupid.” Leaning forward in her chair, she stared at him and said, “I am never stupid.”

She saw his mouth quirk the tiniest bit at her indignation, but his reply was mild enough. “You don’t need to convince me. I’ve been going over your brochure. It’s obvious you’re an intelligent woman with a head for business.”

He sounded as though he meant that, but Shadow wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to be drawn in too quickly. It was enough that she found him so attractive, so charming. To be complimentary and observant, too, would almost make him a saint, and she wasn’t fool enough to believe that.

Eliza brought their food, and they both were quiet until she’d finished serving them. Their eyes met several times, but it wasn’t until after Shadow filled her mouth with a large bite of salad that Brent asked, “So. If you don’t want to go to dinner, what would you like to do? I’m settling into a new house this week, but I’m sure I could organize well enough to have you over if you just want to skip the preliminaries.”

Shadow chewed thoughtfully, not hurrying, aware that Brent baited her for some reason, that he felt justified in being so scandalously blunt.

Dressed in a dark gray business suit with a finely striped shirt and silk tie, he was the epitome of male elegance. A very expensive diamond watch peeked out from under the cuff of his shirt, and his hands were large, with light brown hair sprinkled over his knuckles. Shadow picked up her napkin and dabbed at her mouth. She’d given herself plenty of time to think.

“What do you do for a living, Brent?”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m in real estate. Now why don’t you answer my question?”

She twirled the spoon in her rich, dark coffee. “You’re wealthy?”

Brent sighed, leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Your train of thought is a little hard to follow. Or do you need to know how much money I make before you’ll tell me exactly what you want from me?”

Shadow felt bone-deep regret, she really did. He had seemed so different from other men. She stood, opened her purse and dug out a few bills to cover the cost of her meal. She could feel Brent’s silent attention, but it wasn’t until she’d slipped on her coat that she said to him, “I don’t want anything from you. Unless, that is, you want to fill out a contest entry form. I still need three more men for that.” She pulled her purse strap over her shoulder and smiled down at him. “Thanks for sharing lunch with me. It’s been…educational.”

Disbelief crossed his features. She turned and headed for the door without a backward glance. A stunned silence hung behind her for only an instant, then she heard the sounds of Brent scrambling to his feet. She had almost made it to the entrance of her shop when he caught up with her.

His large hand encircled her upper arm, pulling her to a halt and turning her to face him. “Wait a minute.”

“Have you decided to enter the contest?” She kept her smile polite.

“Forget the damn contest. I thought we were going to have lunch.”

Her smile almost slipped. “That was before you made it so clear why you had asked me in the first place. If I’d known what you wanted up front, I would never have agreed to go.”

The wind whipped Shadow’s hair into her face and made her shiver. She lowered her head against the sting of the cold.

With a sound of disgust, Brent said, “Come on. It’s too damn cold to talk out here.”

The shop was warm and only mildly busy. Kallie looked up as they entered, then called to Shadow, “You have a delivery in the back.”

“Thanks.” She turned to Brent. “I don’t think there’s anything for us to say. It’s a pity, really, because you seemed so amusing. But I’m not interested in a one night stand.” Her smile now hurt, but she kept it firmly in place, refusing to give him even an ounce of satisfaction. “Thanks anyway.”

Brent rolled his eyes. “Oh, no you don’t. Not this time. You may not have anything to say, but I do.”

Two people looked up, their attention drawn by Brent’s harassed tone. With resignation Shadow said, “Come on, we can talk in my office. But only for a minute.” She frowned at him over her shoulder. “I have work to do.”

Brent was irritated. If his stomping footsteps didn’t get that across, his frown was very expressive. Shadow opened the door to the small office and flipped on a light switch as she entered. A large bouquet of yellow roses sat in the middle of her desk. She stopped in mid-stride, momentarily nonplussed.

Brent nearly plowed into her. “What…?”

Shadow marveled aloud, “Someone sent me flowers!” Picking up the card, she read quickly, then looked at Brent suspiciously. “Did you do this?”

He glanced at the card in her hands. “What would make you think that? Who signed the card?”

“No one. It says they’re from a secret admirer.”

“Well, since I’m here, and I’ve made my intentions well known, there’s not much of a secret to it, is there?” He sounded more annoyed by the second.

“But then who? The only men I know are friends.”

“I told you—”

“Yeah, I know. Men have ulterior motives.” She made a face at him. “I should have remembered that when I agreed to have lunch with you.”

Brent all but growled. “Why did you think I wanted to get to know you? So we could be pals?” His voice dropped and he took a step closer. “You’re a beautiful woman, Shadow. Maybe a little nutty, but I can handle that. And you’re the one who started telling me how attractive you thought I was.”

“Well, you are.” She refused to back up from him, and instead faced him squarely. “A woman would have to be blind not to notice that. But that doesn’t automatically mean I want to jump into bed with you. I do have some scruples and discretion, you know.”

He seemed to consider her words, then explained gently, “You come across as something of a tease, Shadow.” He caught her shoulder, holding her still. “No, don’t get mad. If I’ve read you wrong, I’m sorry. But you can’t blame me entirely for getting my signals crossed. It’s not often I run across a woman who’s as open and outspoken in her conversation.”

Shadow stepped away from him, breaking contact. “I’ve been told before that I should censor my thoughts before I voice them. I try, but sometimes it’s just too annoying, having to pick myself apart before I can say what I think.”

His severe expression softened. “So you’re attracted to me?”

“Yes, of course.”

That got her a smile. “And you wouldn’t mind getting to know me better?”

“I’d like to. But not if you’re only biding your time until you can score.”

“Oh, I think being with you would be interesting,” he said with a crooked smile, “no matter what the outcome.”

There was that disarming sincerity again. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” He looked relieved, and determined. “So how about we try lunch again? Say, Wednesday?”

She knew she should refuse, but instead she asked, “Will you enter the contest? I still need you.”

It was his expression that made her realize how her words had sounded. She needed him. He looked at her mouth as he asked, “How about if I let you know on Wednesday?”

It was like being kissed, the way he looked at her. Her heart pumped hard; her lungs constricted. There was no way she could refuse.

Shadow stuck out her hand. “It’s a deal.”

His palm was hot, his grip strong, and he carefully tugged her forward. Shadow froze as he bent down, but she didn’t pull away. His lips were warm, firm, brushing over her cheek in the lightest of touches. She was as stunned by her reaction to that simple kiss as she was by his audacity.

Unwilling to give him the upper hand, even for a moment, she said, “That was nice.” She drew a deep breath to steady her voice. “Maybe on Wednesday you can improve upon it just a bit.”

Brent laughed. “I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime…” He opened his coat to reach inside his pocket. Extracting a business card, he handed it to her, instructing, “If you change your mind about dinner, give me a call at the office. I’m usually there late.”

He whistled as he left, and Shadow wondered if she’d eventually figure him out. One thing was certain, getting to know him would be fun, and wasn’t that her business? Fun? It had been awhile—a long while—since she’d reacted to a man like this. But she had a feeling it had been just as long since Brent had enjoyed any real fun. She had a feeling they were both in for some surprises.

CHAPTER 2

THE BITTER COLD was refreshing. Originally from California, Shadow didn’t think she would ever be bored with Ohio weather. It changed with each month, and she relished waking every day to something other than continual sunshine. Not that it was cloudy today. She had to squint to tolerate the almost magical reflection of sunlight off snow and ice.

The wind whistled down the little sidewalk in front of her shop, whipping the scarf around her neck and nearly dislodging the colorful red bow in her hair. She supposed a dress hadn’t been the best thing to wear while hanging Christmas lights, but she rarely planned her days completely. Usually, she just did what she felt like doing, when she felt like doing it.

Today she felt like being outdoors, decorating. And she felt like seeing Brent Bramwell.

She’d thought of him often the past few days. She knew she had him confused, but he didn’t seem to mind overly. He had made that crack about her being a little nutty, but she was used to that. Everyone thought her nutty. She liked to think it was part of her charm.

Even throughout her school years she’d been different, always occupied with gaining independence and maturity so she wouldn’t have to conform to anyone else’s rules. Other girls had been interested in clothes and boys and music. She’d wanted only to garner enough knowledge to understand why people couldn’t be more accepting, more open to change. Unfortunately, the more she learned the more she understood just how different she was, and how rigid society could be when faced with the different and unique. She’d also learned to accept what she didn’t care to change.

The wind gave a particularly vicious swipe at her skirt, blowing it up and over the hem of her coat. Shadow squealed, frantically trying to push it back down and nearly toppling from her stepladder in the process. It was sheer bad luck, or maybe good, depending on your point of view, that Brent happened along just then.

* * *

BRENT COULDN’T BELIEVE his eyes when he saw Shadow balanced precariously atop a rickety stepladder on the slick walkway, her skirt billowing upward to give him an unhindered view of her nicely rounded backside in a pair of red tights. Her arms were stretched high over her head as she struggled to attach twinkle lights to the framing. When he saw her begin to flounder, tangling herself in the lights, he bolted forward.

However, the icy pavement wasn’t accommodating to heroism, and he reached Shadow just in time to lose his footing, thereby knocking her from her perch. They both went down, Brent on the bottom, Shadow landing in a sitting position on his stomach.

Stunned, she twisted around to stare at him. His eyes were closed, but they opened immediately to peer up at her.

“Are you all right?” she asked breathlessly.

“This is becoming a habit.” The lights she held were now draped over his chest, and her bow had slid forward to hang over one eye. Brent laughed, which wasn’t easy, considering Shadow sat on his diaphragm. She bounced slightly with his movements. “I think I would be better if you could remove yourself.”

“Oh.” She flushed, then quickly scrambled to her feet. It was an ignominious process and Brent, gaining several glances of her slim legs and lush backside in the tights, realized her bottom half was as enticing as her top half. Perhaps more so. He levered himself up to a sitting position, then came slowly to his feet. The seat of his pants was wet from the snow, and when he felt his head, he discovered a bump.

Shadow still wore a pretty blush, but she brazened it out, untangling the lights from her arms and leaving them draped over the stepladder. “Come on inside to my office and let me look at your head.”

Déjà vu, Brent thought as she literally dragged him inside. “My head is fine, it’s just my pants that are a mess.”

Shadow peered around behind him. Luckily, he hadn’t worn a suit today, opting instead for casual corduroy slacks, a thick fisherman sweater and a bomber jacket. She looked at his butt, made a tsking sound and hurried him through the door.

Kallie glanced up as they came in, called a friendly hello to Brent, then went back to her work. There were a couple of customers loitering, but they didn’t seem to have noticed the comedy on the front walk. He supposed that was something to be grateful for.

Inside her office, Shadow closed the door and turned to Brent. She bit her lip, looked him over, then blurted, “You could maybe take them off and I could try to clean them.”

Brent smiled. “First, thank me for not feeling compelled to make any sexual comments in response to your offer.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded. “The pants will dry. Don’t worry about it. Did you hurt yourself?”

“No. You broke my fall.” She cleared her throat. “Thanks again.”

“What exactly were you doing out there, anyway? You should have a handyman do that sort of thing for you.”

“I can take care of anything that needs to be done. I’m not helpless. Besides, I was enjoying myself. Well, at least before my skirt blew up. I, ah, don’t suppose you missed that?”

He didn’t bother to temper his grin. “No.”

Flushing a bit more, she said, “At least my tights covered me completely.” She began removing the bow that now hung around her neck, then riffled her fingers through her short curls, pushing them off her forehead. They sprang right back. “Won’t you be uncomfortable eating lunch with a wet seat?”

“Maybe we could just have lunch here. That way no one would stare and wonder.”

“Women would look regardless, you know.”

“Thank you.” Damn, she had him grinning a lot. “If we eat here, I can go home and change afterward. I’m not needed in the office today. I got everything cleared out of the way in the hope you could take some extra time off. I’d like to talk a little more.”

Shadow looked thoughtful, swinging the bow from her fingers. “I suppose I could. Wednesday isn’t one of our busier days. Kallie could probably handle everything. And I would like to spend more time with you.”

She never ceased to amaze him. “Are you this open with every man you meet?”

“Why? Does it bother you?”

“No. It’s just that I’m not used to women being so blunt. That is, unless they want…”

“What?”

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

She waited a moment more, then shrugged. “I never was any good at being diffident.”

Feigning disbelief, he said, “I don’t believe that.”

She returned his smile. “It’s just the way I am, and I stopped trying to change myself long ago. But I like you, so I hope you’re not so offended you won’t want to see me again.”

“It’ll take some getting used to, but I’ll manage.” What a fabrication, he thought. Get used to her? She fascinated him. “Now, about lunch? Can we order something in?”

She accepted his change of topic with a smile. “I’ll run down to Take a Break. Eliza will fix us up something. Do you have anything particular in mind?”

“Whatever you’re getting is fine.” Brent reached in his pocket to pull out his wallet. Shadow grabbed his hand.

“It’ll be my treat.” He started to object, and she added with a frown, “I insist.”

Brent paused, then went for a compromise. “All right. But only if you agree to let me buy you dinner. Tonight.”

“I still don’t know you that well—”

“You can pick the restaurant. Surely there must be someplace local where you’d feel comfortable.”

She frowned in thought for so long, he said, “I didn’t ask you to solve the question of world peace, Shadow.”

She finally nodded. “All right.”

“Such a concession,” he teased, noting her wariness. “What time do you get off tonight? I’ll pick you up.”

“No. I’ll meet you at Reba’s in the mall. About seven?”

“I have a feeling that knowing you will be a constant tug-of-war over control.” He touched her cheek, felt how soft and warm she was, and shook his head. “If I say one thing are you always going to say another?”

Shadow stilled, her bow dangling from her fingertips. “I wasn’t aware,” she said slowly, “that you were angling for control.”

Careful, Brent warned himself. She was brazen, but she was also noticeably skittish. “Right now,” he said with a smile, “all I’m angling for is lunch.”

She looked at him hard and evidently came to a few favorable conclusions. With a jaunty salute, she said, “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

Rather than sit, Brent wandered around her office after she’d gone. It was small, no more than ten feet square, with a large desk, two extra chairs and a filing cabinet. She had a window and door that opened to the back alley, and on the sill were several small planters. His business card rested in the center of her desk. There was also a greeting card of sorts, and without any guilt, Brent picked it up to investigate.

It was from her secret admirer.

That amused him, thinking it was probably some young, inexperienced kid hoping to gain her favor. The words inside, written in a bold, masculine scrawl, were brief, stating only that she was basically “wonderful” and that her young swain was “deeply affectionate.”

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.

Shadow’s heart began an erratic tattoo.

Just watching him, she flushed. Her eyes narrowed as the photographer moved Brent this way and that, taking far more shots than she had with the other contestants, her hands lingering on his bare skin. By the time they were done, Shadow wasn’t feeling particularly charitable toward the woman and left without saying farewell.

Brent ignored her mood, going right to work on hanging up the remaining decorations. She insisted on helping, and took immense pleasure in each light they connected, each wreath they hung. The November weather was characteristically biting, and by the time they finished, Brent’s cheekbones were red with the cold, Shadow’s nose just as rosy. They went inside, laughing, and plugged in the electrical cord.

Twinkle lights wound around the outside frame of the door and the overhang, where a huge wreath was centered. Inside, each window sported a different colored light, with a smaller wreath. The results weren’t uniform or elegant, but rather festive and fun. She liked it.

Shadow was taken off guard when Brent gave her a huge hug, enfolding her in his arms and lifting her off her feet.

“Thank you. I’ve enjoyed myself.”

Aware of Kallie watching surreptitiously, and of the few customers who gave them their attention, Shadow forced herself to pull away. She didn’t want to. She wanted to pull him down to the ground and have her way with him.

She sighed. “It was fun, wasn’t it? Thank you for helping.”

Brent, too, noticed their audience. He caught her cold hand, led her to her office and closed the door. In the next instant, she found herself pressed up against him.

“Brent?”

“I can’t wait until tonight to kiss you, Shadow.” He stripped off his leather gloves and his hands came up to cup her face, his palms warm and firm. He searched her face, lingering on each small detail, and a small smile flirted with his mouth. “You’re making me nuts, you know that?”

Shadow didn’t have time to answer. Brent lowered his head and touched his lips to hers—not tentatively, as she would have expected a first kiss to be, but purposefully, his mouth moving over hers, his body pressing closer until she was held securely against his length.

She could hear his breathing, smell the spicy scent of his aftershave, feel the heat and hardness of his body. Tension pulsed beneath her skin, a reaction she’d never felt before, certainly not from a simple kiss. When his tongue came out to lick over her lips, she opened, and he immediately took advantage of her quiet submission.

He tasted wonderful, she thought, curling her hands over his shoulders. Without conscious thought she closed her lips on his tongue and gently sucked.

Brent went rigid, then groaned. His body crushed closer, his breath pelting her cheek, hot and fast.

“Damn.” He drew away, his eyes searching her face in near wonder. “I knew from the minute I saw you you’d be like this.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “I want you, Shadow.”

The words leaped from her tongue. “I want you, too. I really do.”

His eyes flared, then quickly narrowed when she added with regret, “But it’s too soon. I…we can’t just give in to lust, Brent. I hardly know you.”

He released her to shove his hands in his pockets. His sigh was long and heartfelt. “How did I know you were going to say that?”

Shadow turned her back on him. This was when he would start issuing ultimatums. She wanted to see him again, and she hadn’t lied about wanting him. She did, more than she could remember wanting a man in a long, long time. But she also had deeply ingrained morals, and sleeping with a man she hardly knew went against everything she believed right and proper. Never mind that she felt she’d known him forever.

* * *

BRENT STARED AT SHADOW’S dejected stance. Withdrawn? Shadow? Not a chance. It had to be simply another part of the game she enjoyed playing. He said easily, “I better be going. I’ll see you tonight at Reba’s. And Shadow?”

She turned, her surprise evident.

“Don’t be late.”

“You still want to see me tonight?”

With a crooked grin, Brent moved toward her. Touching one finger to her soft mouth, he whispered, “Most definitely. But for my peace of mind, I think we should keep the kissing to a minimum.” He laughed. “My libido just can’t take all these sudden changes.”

CHAPTER 3

IT WAS TEN MINUTES after seven, and the parking lot was dark and icy cold. Shadow couldn’t believe her luck, had in fact been cursing the lack of it for the past fifteen minutes.

Leaving her ’66 Mustang convertible, a beauty she had always loved until now, Shadow slammed the door. It made a hollow, echoing sound across the deserted lot. The main parking area had plenty of spaces in it, but she preferred to leave her car in the back. It was less convenient to the entrance of the shops, but out of harm’s way from heavy traffic and loose shopping carts.

Shadow shivered as she hurried across the pavement, holding her coat collar tight around her throat. Brent would think she’d stood him up, when that was the very last thing she’d do.

Kallie was already gone, the shop locked up. Wednesday was their only early evening, every other night of the week they were open till nine, except Sunday, when they worked only a half day. Rather than go to the bother of reopening the shop, Shadow stepped into a phone booth and closed the door so the light would come on. With numb fingers she flipped through the phone book until she found the listing for Reba’s. Her teeth were chattering by the time she managed to dial the number and get an answer.

It was no surprise that she had to wait several minutes before Brent could be located. The restaurant-bar was busy in the early evening. Shadow felt such relief when Brent finally came to the phone, she actually sank back against the icy glass wall of the phone booth.

“Shadow?”

“Oh, Brent, I—I—I’m so sorry.”

There was a heavy silence, then with some urgency, he demanded, “Are you all right?”

“I—I’m fine. Just f-freezing. My stupid car won’t start. I d-d-didn’t want you to think I’d stood you up.”

Another pause, and Brent asked, “Where are you?”

“I’m outside the sh-shop. I’ve already locked it up for the night…. Brent?”

“I’m trying to figure out how long it’ll take me to get to you. I’m still new to the area, remember.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes I do.” She heard the smile in his voice. “Get in your car and lock the doors. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”

“I could call a cab.”

“I won’t argue with you, Shadow. Do as I told you and I’ll be there in about five minutes.”

She stared at the phone, appalled by his preemptory gall. She was more than ready to tell him what she thought, despite the bitter cold, when the phone went dead.

She returned the receiver to its cradle. Five minutes? Only if he sped. More like ten, probably. Bracing herself for the blast of bone-chilling cold, Shadow left the dubious comfort of the phone booth and hurried back to her car. She immediately locked herself inside—which she would have done with or without his instruction.

It was only about four minutes later when she saw the man approaching. But it wasn’t Brent; she was certain of that. He wasn’t nearly tall enough, didn’t have Brent’s long-legged, purposeful stride. The lighting at this section of the lot was dim, not quite reaching into the corner where she’d parked. Shadow stared, wide-eyed, as a face came into view.

The stocking cap pulled over his forehead and the scarf around his neck concealed his features until he stood directly in front of her window. He gave a broad smile and motioned for her to roll down the window.

With immense relief, Shadow recognized him.

“Hi,” she called through the window.

He leaned against her door, propped his arms on the window frame and stared in at her. “You need some help?”

She shook her head. “No, everything’s fine.”

Again, he motioned for her to roll down the window.

The lie came easily to her lips. “I can’t,” she called loudly. “It’s broken.”

He frowned then, but said, “Open your door. I’ll see if I can fix your car.”

Again she lied. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’m just waiting for someone.”

He seemed surprised by her answer. He straightened, stalked two steps away from the car, but quickly returned. There was a distinct scowl on his features now. “Open the door,” he said again, and added, “I need to talk to you about the contest.”