The wrong Mr. Wright keeps showing up!

Lauren Brown has had it with being a “gal pal,” and she’s taking matters into her own hands. Slinky black lingerie and a complete makeover ought to wake up the apparently oblivious Jeff Wright to the fact that she’s really a femme fatale. Her seduction is a runaway success. But there’s one little problem—she arouses Jeff’s identical twin instead!

Dangerously attractive, Justin Wright is best known for his revolving-door relationships and uncanny ability to annoy Lauren, which he does every day as her overbearing boss.

Unfortunately, Lauren isn’t sure how to handle things when the wrong Mr. Wright turns up again—next to her Christmas tree with a tag that reads “Open me first.”

“You’re such a pal, Lauren.”

A pal. She was a pal. P-A-L, which could stand for Pitiful Always Around.

Lauren controlled the sudden raw anger that consumed her. The man in front of her probably didn’t even have a clue that she was interested in advancing their relationship. She was like a properly functioning computer—taken for granted and low maintenance.

At twenty-eight she didn’t want to be a pal any longer. She wanted to be the girlfriend. Wanted to be the hot sexy one he couldn’t refuse or resist. While her biological clock wasn’t exactly ticking—okay, maybe a little—she did want the whole shebang: marriage, career and family.

She’d waited long enough for Mr. Secure and Safe to notice her. She’d have to be the one to make a move….

Unwrapping Mr. Wright
Michele Dunaway

www.millsandboon.co.uk

In first grade Michele Dunaway knew she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, and by second grade she knew she wanted to be an author. By third grade she was determined to be both, and before her high school class reunion, she’d succeeded. In addition to writing romance, Michele is a nationally recognized, award-winning English and journalism educator who also advises the yearbook, newspaper and student website at her school. Born and raised in a west county suburb of St. Louis, Missouri, Michele has traveled extensively, with the cities and places she’s visited often becoming settings for her stories. Described as a woman who does too much but who doesn’t ever want to stop, Michele gardens five acres in her spare time and shares her home with two tween daughters and eight cats that rule the roost.

To all my friends at Harlequin.com,

and to Trish Gazall, Ken Williams and Vic Porcelli

at FM 101.1 The River. Thanks.

And always, to Jon for believing in me.

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 1

Justin Wright was Scrooge.

Not that he looked anything like good old Ebenezer. He was too young and too good-looking for that. “Hot,” some misguided temp had called him. But that didn’t stop the modern-day tightwad from frowning, leaning over the conference table and saying to Lauren Brown, current object of his wrath, “You know, in all my time in this company, this has to be the dumbest way to spend money that I’ve ever heard.”

Lauren twirled the red-and-white candy-cane pen between her fingers, but the motion did little to calm her or fill her with any of her usual boisterous Christmas spirit. It did, however, keep her from reaching across and strangling the annoying, self-centered Justin Wright. At this moment, the fact that he was her boss was irrelevant.

He tapped his fingers on the table, creating an annoying staccato. “You know, Lauren, the more I think about it, the more I have to disagree. That idea is a waste of money. My company’s. We hired you for this?”

Justin Wright squared his chin stubbornly, but Lauren Brown glared right back at him. Her icy brown stare, though, like the rest of her, went totally unnoticed by the man who, unfortunately, looked too much like his gorgeous twin. Lauren tried thinning her lips in displeasure, but that, too, had little impact on her nemesis.

Once again she exhaled slowly in an attempt to rein in her temper. In the six months that she’d been working for Wright Solutions, nothing she’d proposed had been good enough for the high standards of the ultra-picky, master micromanager Justin Wright. She set down the pen lest she use it as a dagger.

“As a matter of fact, you did hire me for this,” she said in a sweet tone that still contained an edge of steel. “You hired me for PR, and that’s exactly what the office Christmas party is. That’s why Jared, president of this company, assigned me the job of hosting it and that’s why we’re having it at a hotel, two weekends from now, on December 18.”

The way Justin’s lips turned down indicated he hadn’t liked her noting that his elder brother was president. “But semiformal to formal? You’ve already got an open bar. What’s wrong with nachos and beer after hours? That’s worked ever since we started this company. Now we’re wining and dining employees with filet mignon and champagne?”

She stared right into his eyes, trying to hold her own against the glittering green. “Yes, we are.”

“Jared shouldn’t have given you free rein.”

She shrugged. “Then it’s lucky for me that he did, isn’t it? Nachos and beer out, filet mignon and champagne in.” She left out the “deal with it,” although from his scowl he’d heard her unspoken challenge. “As president, Jared left me in complete control as long as I don’t overspend my budget, which I haven’t. You don’t need to worry during your interim stay while he’s on his honeymoon.”

Lauren grabbed her candy-cane pen and doodled a small red smiley face before scratching out the happy symbol. If only Jared were back! Unlike Justin, the eldest of the three Wright sons had a vision for the company. Too bad he’d extended his honeymoon by another four weeks. He and his new wife weren’t returning to St. Louis until early in the new year.

Justin’s only vision was girls in tight skirts and fishnet panty hose. Unfortunately, the playboy of the family had endless charm, and with the number of women Lauren had seen flocking around, she knew that he knew it. However, at twenty-eight, Lauren prided herself on the fact that she knew better. She’d known Justin for three years and she was proud that she remained singularly unimpressed and unaffected by anything he did or said.

“You did hear me, didn’t you?”

She blinked and glanced over at him. See how unaffected she was? She hadn’t even heard a word he’d been saying. Knowing Justin, though, she took a stab and gave him a classic PR answer. “I heard you,” Lauren replied, “and I thank you for your opinion.”

She tactfully omitted the word unwelcome, but as if sensing it anyway, Justin narrowed his eyes sharply. Lauren set the merry little pen down. “But as this is my area of expertise, I must respectfully disagree with your assessment of everything.” To avoid Justin’s obvious displeasure, Lauren looked for support to Clint Seaver, her immediate boss and the vice president of Public Relations and Marketing. He had a silly grin on his face, as if watching Justin and Lauren spar was more exciting than the St. Louis Blues hockey games he loved.

“I was hired to make Wright Solutions a prominent player, with growth like that of Microsoft in the 1990s. To do this, Wright Solutions needs to do many things besides the Christmas party. Next year I plan to—”

“Whatever. As you said, Jared gave you control of the Christmas party. Just don’t overspend your budget or you’ll answer to me.” Justin had cut her off as though the conversation had suddenly become irrelevant and now bored him. Lauren’s jaw dropped at his boorishness, though she quickly recovered and closed her mouth. Never had the despicable Mr. Wright been this rude.

This time, though, he didn’t look at her again or explain his actions. He glanced at his watch and turned his attention to Clint. “It’s your budget for next year, Clint. If you think including the projects Lauren is about to tell me about—again—is the way to go, fine. Let her run with them. I’ll expect a full report on my desk in two weeks regarding your plans for the new year. Before I go, are we still on for poker tonight?”

Clint grinned, the grin of someone secure about being in the inner circle, the grin of someone who had been friends with the three Wright brothers ever since high school. “Me miss a Friday-night poker bash? Never. We’re definitely on. My place tonight.”

“Super. I’ll see you at seven.” With that, Justin Wright stood and, without another word or glance in Lauren’s direction, left the conference room.

Good riddance, Lauren thought as he disappeared from sight. Never had she met a man so temperamentally different from his brothers.

Justin’s elder brother, Jared, was kind and gentle, yet steely and strong. Justin’s twin, Jeff, was puppy-dog adorable, the type of guy that a girl just wanted to hug and take care of. He was safe, predictable, the kind of man a girl looked for after being burned once too often by Mr. Wrong. It didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad looking, either. Not as hot or handsome as his twin brother—few men were like Justin Wright—but Jeff was near enough. And he didn’t have Justin’s attitude, which made Jeff a much better catch.

Lauren knew how safe and wonderful Jeff was because she had lived next to him for the past three years. Her condo shared a wall with Jeff’s and he’d been the one to tell her about the new position at Wright Solutions that his twin had reluctantly created.

Of course, if from the beginning Lauren had realized she would be working this closely with the condescending womanizer, she might not have even considered the job. She picked up her pad of paper, her candy-cane pen and, after everyone else preceded her, left the conference room.

Oh, who was she kidding? Even she had to admit that despite Justin Wright, this job was perfect for her talents and her media communications degree from Webster University.

Instead of being one of twenty PR specialists doing mindless press releases and endless corporate brochures the way she had been at Simons and Simmons Public Relations, here at Wright Solutions she had the chance to really make a difference. She was a hometown girl and she could grow with a hometown company.

Clint aside, Lauren was the PR department, and the future and her private stock options had an unlimited ceiling. And then there was the best perk of all—working with Jeff Wright, man of her dreams. Jeff was the company’s first responder to any computer or software crisis. She made a quick stop in the copy room, picked up a stack of file folders and walked to her small office, with its lovely view of the parking lot and the building next door.

Speak of the devil.

“So how’d it go?” Jeff leaned against her doorjamb. He and Justin were easy to tell apart once you got to know them: Jeff had a softer face, different from the harder edged face that made girls swoon over his twin. Jeff’s chin rounded more than Justin’s more square one, and Jeff’s Roman nose was crooked from being broken in a long-ago hockey game. Although they both had green eyes, Justin’s were a dark emerald shade, whereas Jeff’s were the color of light green cellophane.

Lauren flashed Jeff her best dazzling smile. “Great.”

“Super,” Jeff said. He didn’t notice or mention her fitted red Christmas sweater, which she’d worn just for him. “Hopefully, it wasn’t too bad. Justin really is taking this running-the-show stuff seriously while Jared’s gone. Hey, I’m going to be working late tonight and I need a favor. Could you iron my blue pinstripe?”

Lauren’s gut clenched, but she covered her reaction by simply raising an eyebrow. “Have a date?”

Jeff grinned and Lauren’s heart softened. She recognized that grin. “Sort of. Tomorrow night’s Mom’s birthday. We’re taking her out to Tony’s to celebrate.”

“All of you? Tony’s is fancy. Suit coat, tie—the works. You’re sure?”

Jeff nodded. “Yeah, well, it is for Mom. And it’ll be all of us except for Jared. You know, I don’t get my older brother. Who would go on a honeymoon for a month and then extend it by another four weeks?”

“I would if I found the right man,” Lauren said. “Sun, surf and…” She left the word sex unsaid.

Jeff arched a strawberry-blond eyebrow at her. In Lauren’s opinion, Jeff had the most handsome shade of red hair—not too red, nor too orangy blond. It was simply perfect. With his twinkling green eyes, he’d won a St. Patrick’s Day “dress as a leprechaun” contest once. That Justin’s hair was the same gorgeous color was irrelevant.

“Yeah, I guess you girls would want to keep a guy out of commission that long. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could bring my laptop, but Jared doesn’t even turn his on every day. Like I said, I just don’t get him.” Jeff shrugged his broad shoulders for emphasis, indicating exactly how foolish he thought his madly-in-love elder brother was.

“Anyway, just grab the shirt—you know the one—out of my closet. I’ve got some software to finish writing and I doubt I’ll even make it home until well past midnight.”

Lauren adored that Jeff was such a committed computer geek. Not that he looked or acted like it, but given a choice of dating or programming, the computer won hands down every time. Jeff always maintained that computers were a lot simpler to deal with than women. Justin, however, was the opposite.

“Want me to leave you some dinner?” she asked. “Something to microwave? I’ll put it in your refrigerator when I return your shirt.”

Jeff gave her an appreciative smile. “That would be great. You know I always forget to eat when I get caught up in work. What would I do without you? You’re such a pal, Lauren.” He shifted, and she could tell he itched to return to his computer and the program he was writing. “I’ll catch you later, okay?”

“Sure,” Lauren said. She watched a whistling Jeff walk away until he disappeared around a corner. Unlike his annoying brother, Jeff Wright was a dream. In the past three years, he’d become her best friend. They talked constantly and shared things like chores and food. She sighed suddenly and plucked a fuzzy piece of red lint off her sweater. Everyone in the office said red was her color, but Jeff hadn’t even noticed.

She frowned as a sense of disquiet came over her. After three years, one would have expected a little more from their relationship. It should have changed somehow, some way. They were friends; they got along great; they’d each been burned once or twice. That made them perfect for each other—they’d have the kind of relationship based on mutual respect, with some love and attention thrown in.

Except that the love and attention were still sadly lacking.

Right then and there she decided that Jeff Wright needed to notice her, really notice her. Couldn’t he see how perfect they’d be together?

But then, Jeff Wright was often a man with blinders on. When he focused on a computer problem he could be so one-tracked that he would forget to eat. Not once, though, had he made any type of move on her. He’d always treated her chivalrously, as if she was a treasured friend. His cryptic words suddenly resounded in her ears: “You’re such a pal, Lauren.”

A pal. She was a pal. P-A-L, which could stand for Pitiful Always-Around Lauren. Lauren controlled the sudden raw anger that consumed her. Jeff probably didn’t even have a clue that she was interested in taking their relationship further. She was like a properly functioning computer—taken for granted and low maintenance.

At twenty-eight, she didn’t want to be Jeff’s pal any longer. She wanted to be the girlfriend! Wanted to be the hot sexy one he couldn’t refuse or resist. While her biological clock wasn’t exactly ticking—okay, maybe a little—she did want the whole shebang: marriage, career and family.

She wanted Jeff Wright. She didn’t know if they’d have any chemistry, but who cared? She’d been there, done that. Passion flared and burned out. It was stability she craved now in a twosome, and that was Jeff. She’d waited long enough for Mr. Secure and Safe to notice her. She’d have to be the one to make a move.

“Do you always hang out in doorways?” Justin Wright appeared in the hall between her office and the cubicles in the center of the building; a dubious look on his face. Just how long had he been there? He glanced upward as he inched toward the opposite wall. “Well, not that. I don’t see any mistletoe.”

Did he think she was that desperate? “I’m being creative,” she retorted—the first reply that came to her lips. “And, yes, you pay me for that.” She heard him laugh as she entered her office and shut the door behind her decisively.

Lauren tossed the file folders onto her desk. The candy-cane pen fell to the floor. Jeff’s words again rang in her ears, this time louder than the church bells on Christmas morning. You’re a pal, Lauren. A pal.

Oh, how she hated that phrase. Just how many times had she heard those exact words or their variation in the years since high school? How many times had she been told, “You’re a great friend, Lauren, but I just don’t want you the way I want—” Every guy said the same thing; the only thing that changed was the girl’s name. And the one man who hadn’t—he was still a lesson in heartache that she never wanted to repeat.

Lauren stomped her foot with newfound determination. She sat down in her overstuffed desk chair and reached into the desk drawer. Her fingers fished in her purse for the mirror she knew she had but rarely used. Moving it at various angles, she took stock of herself. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Boring makeup. Practical business attire except for the red sweater. All told, nothing to write home about. The woman she could only see in bits and pieces in the looking glass was not a girl for a guy to get excited about.

And to hook Jeff Wright, she had to get him excited. She’d seen him with a few bimbos over the years. The relationships never lasted long, maybe a week or two before his interest waned or they tired of his job coming first.

Most of his women had one thing in common: they were blond. Insight hit her. Maybe that was what she needed. Hair color. Tweezed eyebrows. Pouty red lips. Those things certainly couldn’t hurt. Beauty and brains in one sexy, irresistible package. Perhaps if she just spiced up the package—like spicing up a résumé or making a computer run faster—she could catch Jeff Wright.

The Yellow Pages thumped open as Lauren flipped to the beauty parlor listings. She ran her finger down the black print, her gaze searching for the day-spa salon that did all those makeovers for the local news channel. The door to her office opened.

Lauren’s head shot up and she quickly closed the phone book, keeping her arm inside it to hold her place. In this position she was bent over at an ungodly angle, her right hip jutting out. “Yes?”

“You seemed upset about something earlier,” Justin said as he entered her office. “I thought I’d stop in and see if I’d offended you in some way, or at least more than I usually do. If I did, I want to apologize. I haven’t caught you at a bad time, have I?”

Lauren shifted a little, covering any telltale clues that might reveal her makeover goals. “Uh, no. And no, I’m not upset at all,” Lauren replied. She added a wide smile to make her lie convincing. Hopefully, he’d get a clue and leave. Justin cocked his head. He didn’t look too persuaded and he made no move to go back out the door.

She knew how silly she must appear with her arm stuck in a phone book and her rear end sticking up. Her face flushed as it heated under Justin’s appraising stare. “Um, apology accepted, not that there was a need,” she added to the lie—anything to get him out of her office.

“Did you have anything else?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Justin said slowly. Lauren’s arm started to numb and she again shifted under his intent appraisal. “I’d just realized that I didn’t tell you I had an overseas call scheduled, which is why I left the meeting so abruptly. I didn’t want you to think I was being rude when I cut you off in the conference room today.”

He was worried about being rude? Please. After six months of working with him, it was a little too late for worrying about that. The man defined rude. Lauren struggled to stop herself from laughing at the bitter irony. She managed to keep her tone sarcasm-free as she said, “No problem. Our constant sparring keeps my job interesting. Honestly.”

“If you’re sure.” Justin walked over toward her desk, and Lauren inched the Yellow Pages closer to her body. He frowned. “That’s a great sweater on you. By the way, what are you doing?”

Surely he wasn’t picking this very moment to start being civil by chitchatting with her. “I have an important call to make.” She glanced pointedly at the phone book. “I don’t want to lose my place.”

“Oh.” He tempered his curiosity and gave her a charming smile. Despite her previous imperviousness to him, Lauren flushed more, this time not because she was in an ungraceful position.

No wonder women liked Justin. Even she now had to admit that she wasn’t totally immune to his killer I’ll-melt-that-heart-of-yours grin. Seeing she wasn’t about to elaborate on the details of her phone call, Justin said, “Well, okay, then. I guess I should tell you to have a good weekend and get out of your way.”

Lauren nodded. “You have a good weekend, too.” She watched him leave, and tried to look pleasant when he stopped at the door and turned back around.

“Lauren?” he said.

“Yes?”

“We do have Post-It notes in the supply closet. You know, to hold your place,” he added, and with that he left. She swore she heard him laughing as he closed her door behind him.

She counted to twenty just to make sure he wouldn’t return, and then she sat down and reopened the phone book. She ran her finger down the page and found the number she was looking for. It was time Lauren “before” became Lauren “after,” a femme fatale.

She secured an appointment for Monday, and composed e-mails to Justin and Clint indicating that she was taking a personal day. She frowned as she hit Send. Justin Wright. So different from his brother. He raised every one of her hackles. He had that lethal smile that needed to be outlawed. He…ooh. Jeff was definitely the better of the two men. Definitely.

Satisfaction filled her as she leaned back against the plush leather desk chair. Jeff loved Monday Night Football. They often watched it together, sharing beer and popcorn. But if she had her way—and oh, would she—Jeff Wright wasn’t going to do much football watching this Monday night. Instead, they were going to play. Yes, come December 6, the better of the two men was in for a very big holiday surprise.

Chapter 2

Justin Wright tossed the briefcase down. It landed on his desk with an annoying thump. Mondays should be outlawed, especially Mondays following your mother’s birthday party. “Sylvia!”

“Yes?” His secretary of the past five years poked her head in through the open doorway.

“Where’s Lauren? Didn’t you call for her as I asked you to?”

Familiar with his many moods, Sylvia backed up slightly. “She’s not in today.”

That didn’t sound good. Perhaps he’d misunderstood his secretary. Frustration had him speaking a bit slower. “What do you mean, she’s not in today? Is she late? At a meeting?”

Sylvia inched another step backward as if she were afraid he’d massacre the messenger. “No. She’s not coming in at all. She took a personal day. The details are in her e-mail to you. She sent me a copy. I’m surprised you didn’t see it. Don’t you always check your work e-mails on the weekend?”

Patience was a virtue that he always found himself short of on Mondays. He followed the retreating Sylvia to her desk. “I didn’t check my work e-mail this weekend. My floors are all torn up, my house is a disaster, and that meant I had to move my computer into storage. Jeff still hasn’t fixed the glitch in my laptop. Plus, I had my mother’s birthday party to attend.”

Sylvia brightened. She and Mrs. Wright had chatted for ages when Mrs. Wright dropped by the office to check on her three sons. “Oh, how was that? Did you have a lovely dinner?”

“It was great,” Justin said. Well, it had been if he didn’t count his mother harping on her two youngest boys to find women and settle down like their beloved older brother. “After all, you are thirty,” his mother had reminded both of them at least ten times. She’d also made those remarks about wanting to see grandchildren before she died. Reminding her she was only fifty-five hadn’t helped. Justin sincerely hoped Jared’s wife came back pregnant. It might alleviate one crisis: getting his mother off his case. “Is Clint available?”

Sylvia sat behind her desk. “No. Remember? He’s at that luncheon in Springfield with the representatives from Kramer and McGee.”

A creature of having his space perfect, Justin decided the weekend must have thrown him even more than he’d realized; he’d forgotten that. “Wonderful. And Lauren decided to up and take a personal day. Couldn’t she have told me Friday?”

Frustrated, he threw a hand into the air. What was the point in having a public relations director if she didn’t work? Okay, so she hadn’t missed a day in six months. But today the company had not one but two major crises to deal with, and she should be doing something about them. Exactly what he wasn’t certain, but with Clint gone, she should be around. That much he had confidence in. Lauren would know how to soothe the feathers of some very ruffled clients. Wasn’t that what PR gurus did?

Not that he wasn’t capable of handling the situations alone, which was exactly what he’d do. “Sylvia, start making arrangements for immediate tech-support travel to Dynamics in Buffalo.”

Sylvia snapped to attention. “Jeff and Cecil?” she asked.

Justin nodded. “As always, and anyone else they feel they might need. Dynamics’s problem has to be solved on-site. Their whole system went down. Every minute is money. We’ve got to get them back up and make them impervious to another attack.”

The phone was already to Sylvia’s ear, and her fingers on the number pad. “Consider it done.”

Justin sighed as he went back to his desk. At least he had Sylvia. She called him a few minutes later to tell him flight times and that she’d reached Jeff.

“Hey.” Jeff entered Justin’s office about five minutes after that. “I just got the page that I’m needed.”

“You’re needed, all right,” Justin said. And despite their differences, it always amazed him just how similar they did look, even at age thirty. Each stood six foot one, each had light reddish blond hair and cream-colored skin. Not one freckle remained from either of their childhoods.

“So what’s going on?” Jeff asked. “I heard we’ve got major problems.”

“We do. Dynamics got hit with a virus. We’re working on their server issues, but about two dozen of their computers require complete reinstalls. Every minute they’re down is costing them millions.”

Jeff grinned. There was nothing he loved more than jumping into the fray. He’d wanted to be a firefighter, but asthma had ended that dream, much to his safety-conscious mother’s relief. “So when do Cecil and I leave?”

Justin’s shoulders slumped as some stress lifted. The best man for any computer-related crisis, Jeff had never let his brothers down. He was their Mr. Fix-it. “The next flight to Buffalo is at eleven. Sylvia’s made arrangements to have you both on it. Do you need anyone else?”

“No,” Jeff said. He glanced at his Rolex, the watch he’d bought more for its working precision than for its status. “So, like, I’m out of here right now.”

Justin nodded. “Exactly.”

“Cool. Never a dull moment at this place. Super Jeff off to save the day. This company couldn’t survive without me.”

For the first time that morning, Justin grinned. “Nope.”

“I’ll have Lauren feed my cat.”

Lauren, who should be in the office. Justin’s smile faded and he briefly wondered why she annoyed him so much. She really was a contradiction. Friday, Miss Plain and Mousy had worn a fitted red sweater that had made his libido boil and want to know exactly what lay underneath. As to why she’d crawled under his skin, Justin had no answer. “She’s out of the office today.”

“Yeah.” Jeff shrugged. “I saw her Saturday when I picked up my pinstripe and had her iron my dress pants.”

For some reason the thought of Lauren doing Jeff’s laundry didn’t sit well with Justin. “She irons your clothes?”

Jeff grinned, the grin of a man who has domestic bliss without the emotional entanglements of ring-around-the-finger. “I’m a lucky guy. Anyway, she told me she’d e-mailed you, but she wouldn’t tell me why she took today off. Said it was a surprise and I’d have to wait. I guess now I’ll have to find out what it is when I get back.”

The phone rang and Justin picked it up and listened. “Oh. Okay, Sylvia. No, of course I don’t have time for it, but I do want my floors done. My house is a FEMA wanna-be. You know, Federal Emergency Management Association. They go in after disasters. Send the call through.” Justin held up a finger, indicating that Jeff should wait. “Justin Wright. Hey, Bob. What’s up?”

His contractor’s voice boomed through the line and Justin moved the phone farther away from his ear. “Justin, today’s the day. We’re putting the first coat of polyurethane on your floors. See, I told you we’d be finished way before Christmas.”

Finally. They’d been sanding and refinishing the hardwood for almost a week. Besides having furniture in every corner, spare or not, Justin had a fine layer of dust coating everything, even the rooms that had been taped off. “That’s great.”

Bob chuckled. “I’m glad you think so, because you’ll need to be out of your house for about three days while we get everything done.”

“What?” That started today? Surely he had heard wrong. “Three days?”

“At least three days. Sorry to spring it on you like this, but of course you want the job done. Remember, I told you about this aspect of the job before we started the project.”

Justin sighed. Bob was one of the best floor finishers in St. Louis and he had warned him that the floors couldn’t be walked on; even worse there would be the smell to deal with during the sealing process.

“Yeah, I remember. It’s okay, Bob. I’ll find somewhere to go. Start the work.” Justin set down the phone. Mondays sucked. What else could go wrong?

“More problems?” Jeff asked.

Justin craned his neck to relieve some of his growing tension. “Not Wright Solutions–related, at least. They’re finally getting around to finishing my hardwood floors. I have to stay out for three days since I won’t have a bed and the odor will be terrible. But don’t worry about me. You need to get out of here. Time is money and Dynamics is one of our best customers.”

“Well, luckily for you, this Dynamics crisis might just be perfect timing. You can stay at my place. I’ll leave a spare key underneath my welcome mat.” Jeff strode to the door. He grinned as he glanced back over his shoulder. “Just be sure you feed my cat.”

Pretty woman. The words from the Roy Orbison song resonated in Lauren’s head long after the tune had faded from St. Louis’s classic-oldies radio station. But the words fit. The woman reflected back at her in the rearview mirror was pretty. The spa had been worth every penny.

Lauren grinned as she pulled up to an intersection and the guy in the car to her right gave her a second, then a third look. For once Lauren knew it wasn’t because she’d had food on her face or something embarrassing like that. For once it was because she really did look good.

She’d entrusted her body to the care of Meredith and Jacques, and neither of the spa professionals had let her leave disappointed. She’d been made over from head right down to her now bright red toenails.

When they’d finally spun her around after the finishing touches, at first Lauren hadn’t believed that she really was the person in the mirror. Jacques had lightened her dark brown hair to a honey hue. He hadn’t made her medium blond—he said that would wash her out too much and make her appear trite—but he had lightened every strand and used foils to weave subtle golden strands throughout.

Her eyebrows had been tweezed and shaped, and after applying a natural foundation, Meredith had applied soft blush makeup to Lauren’s cheekbones and subtle color to her eyelids. The result? The man in a pickup truck to her left said it best when he gave her a large grin and a thumbs-up before he pulled away.

Lauren smiled and avoided drumming her newly manicured fingernails on the steering wheel, as was her habit. She pulled into Chesterfield Mall and found a spot near an entrance. One stop left to go before her plan was complete. All she needed now was lingerie. The basic cotton underwear she usually wore was not acceptable for tonight’s seduction. She wanted lace, the silkier and skimpier the better.

She parked the car, entered the mall and strode into the shop with complete confidence. She knew her body was ready for it—she’d been waxed, buffed and moisturized until every part of her five-foot-six-inch figure glowed. She’d never been fat, and now viewing in the three-way mirror the black lace ensemble she’d found, she felt like one of those credit-card commercials. No matter the cost—the result was worth it. Lauren picked up a pair of thigh-high seamed hose, paid for her purchases and carried the pink-and-white bag with pride.

The December night was brisk, but Lauren didn’t feel the cold as she unlocked her Toyota Celica and tossed the bag onto the back seat. Darkness had long ago descended, and Lauren’s headlights cut a swath through the starry night as she drove home to her condo. She’d eat a little something just to make sure her stomach didn’t growl foolishly, drink a little wine to give her some liquid courage, then she’d dress and walk the twelve feet to Jeff’s condo. Monday Night Football started at eight. And as much as she loved football, too, tonight was about seduction. Jeff would only get to see about five minutes of the game before her arrival.

Lauren turned up the volume on the radio as a Macy Gray song came on. Singing along, Lauren belted out the words. Even the song was a sign. Today she’d had one good omen after another. Jeff Wright, here I come. You aren’t going to know what hit you. Every light magically seemed to be green and Lauren grinned. For once, finally, everything was going to be perfect.

Justin wasn’t a cat person, but that didn’t stop Jeff’s indoor, with an alley-cat personality, feline from taking permanent residence right on top of Justin’s chest.

The monster even purred so loud that Justin couldn’t hear the television. If he turned his head to the right he could see the flat screen, though, and thus at least tell what was going on. Reaching for the remote control, a few inches beyond his grasp on the coffee table, meant risking upending the cat with the killer claws. Justin decided that hearing the game, which started in about fifteen minutes, didn’t matter.

Like most Saint Louisans he loved the Saint Louis Rams, but tonight he wasn’t interested in watching them play the New Orleans Saints. Suddenly extremely exhausted, all Justin wanted right now was sleep.

He’d left the office only about a half hour ago. Jeff had arrived safely in Buffalo and he and Cecil had started pulling the all-nighter required to rebuild Dynamics’s systems. Clint had returned from Springfield, soothed the other client’s fears, and at last, after sending about a dozen e-mails and signing a dozen letters, Justin had been free to go home. Dinner had been a drive-through-restaurant chicken sandwich that hadn’t tasted all that great.

He’d hoped to pick up some essentials at home before going to Jeff’s, but upon arriving at his Chesterfield ranch, he’d learned from the note on his front door that he couldn’t even enter the house until ten the next morning. He’d said a few words his mother would scold him for before he’d headed to Jeff’s.

Thank goodness he and his brother were twins. He’d at least be able to borrow something clean to wear to the office tomorrow. Tonight, though, he wanted to be really comfortable. So, with no change of clothes, Justin had cranked up the heat, stripped to his boxers, grabbed a beer and now found himself used as a cat pillow.

He glanced at the VCR clock. His mother had always said that her twins were opposites, which in many ways they were. Jeff, the computer god and techno wizard, always had his VCR programmed to the proper time, for example. Justin’s VCR usually just blinked 12:00 because he was too lazy to set it and he hadn’t seen the need to replace the aged unit with one that automatically set the time itself. Now Jeff’s VCR said 7:50. Justin had ten minutes before football. Enough for a power nap. After all, his eyelids did feel so heavy. He let his lashes drift down, and soon man and beast fell into easy slumber.

Lauren lowered her wineglass and looked at the clock on her microwave for the hundredth time. If a watched pot never boiled, then a watched microwave clock never changed. Lauren held her breath as the display finally flickered from 7:59 and became 8:00.

It was finally time.

She took one last reassuring sip of wine. However, the room-temperature Merlot did little to calm her racing heart. She glanced at the bottle. She’d only had two glasses, enough to make her feel warm, fuzzy, brave and wanton. She smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle in her hose. Her outfit was perfect: a merry widow covered by a sheer black robe. Underneath, lacy black garter straps held up the seamed black thigh-highs. Slinky black heels that she’d worn only once graced her feet, her red toenail polish playing peekaboo beneath the sheer hose.

She’d gotten her portable CD player ready. While Jeff had a fantastic stereo complete with surround sound, it would be quicker and easier for her to just use her battery-operated unit and have it on as she entered his condo.

Butterflies flitted in her stomach. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. She’d had relationships before—even lived with a man for three months before he’d cheated on her. But this time was different. This was Jeff, her best friend. Tonight would forever change their relationship. They would go from friends to lovers. He’d realize the pal could also be the girlfriend. They would have it all. She knew he adored her; but still, taking the next step was always risky. She had nothing to fear. Right? She was now a knockout.

The clock finally flickered to 8:05 and Lauren grabbed the CD player. Her ankles wobbled for a brief moment as she rose to her feet.

She put her hand on her condo door and completed the quick run from her door to his. Her key made brief work of the lock and she stepped inside. The room was dark except for the light coming from the television set, and relief filled Lauren. She’d worried for nothing about him seeing her in the bright light. Not only did the low glow cast shadows everywhere, but he was sleeping. Buddy, Jeff’s cat, lifted a sleepy head. Lauren put a finger to her lips, suddenly realizing how silly that was—why was she trying to tell a cat to keep quiet? She stifled a nervous giggle and turned on her CD player. It was now or never. In a few moments she would know Jeff Wright more intimately than she’d ever known him. As the slow groove came on, Lauren began to dance.

He was having the most wonderful dream. The noises of the football game that he really couldn’t hear anyway had faded, replaced by a deep bluesy voice that he recognized but in his sleep couldn’t quite place. Something sweet had reached his seeking nostrils. Roses? Jasmine? Musk? Whatever perfume had permeated his brain brought his body to slow attention.

The cat was gone. Instead, something silky skimmed his chest. Black and white contrasted in the darkness. Oh, my. A garter-covered a thigh.

He hadn’t had a dream like this in a long, long while. He shifted, letting the seductive moment of the dream envelop him. A beautiful woman danced for him. Not a professional, either—he’d seen those a few times at bachelor parties—but an amateur. Meaning, much better motivations. Much better movements when they weren’t rehearsed. Much more…intriguing. Oh.

As she gyrated her hips and lowered herself toward the floor in a movement bordering on erotic, he groaned. Oh, yes. Whoever his fantasy woman was, she was dancing just for him. And whoever she was, it was his dream, and he would have her or die trying.

He snaked out a hand, his fingers grazing the naked part of her upper thigh. Heat traveled through him and gathered lower. Her bottom lip dropped into a playful pout and she waved her forefinger at him in a no-no movement as she stepped away from his outstretched hand. Did she say, “Not until the song’s over”?

Who cared about the song? As her lips neared his, he sure didn’t. Excitement overtook him and he leaned up to catch her lips, but she’d drawn away. Kiss me! He wanted to see her face. Instead, he saw black lace covering creamy white breasts. Oh. He swallowed as part of him roused to painful attention. Sanity fled. He’d been a year without a woman, so no wonder the intensity filling him. She glanced back again, her black robe skimming his bare chest. His lips opened and his head arched. Did his mystery woman know what she did to him?

Of course she did. The song playing in his head crescendoed and as it began to wind down she moved closer. He willed the dream to brighten, but, backlit by the television, the dream refused. Suddenly, her body sat next to his. “Hey,” she said.

Did he answer her? He wasn’t sure what he said, for when her lips touched the side of his jaw, he lost all control. He reached forward, fisted his hands into that long hair that had been calling him and brought her lips down to his.

The rockets he’d made as a kid didn’t have anything on the explosion now shooting through him as he kissed her. He ravaged her mouth, tasting his dream woman’s sweet kiss. Never had he had a dream so real or so good, and he refused to question it lest it dissipate before he’d fully enjoyed it. His hand cupped her breast, the black lace texture tempting his fingers to slide beneath. She gasped against his mouth as he pearled a nipple, and she fell closer to him.

He didn’t want to let her mouth go, but he wanted to taste her, to lick the creamy valley between and taste those hardened peaks themselves.

All he had to do was roll her over. He encircled her waist and turned her so that her back pressed against the couch. Her stocking-covered legs wound around his bare ones. Damn, he wanted her. His body throbbed and he thrust his tongue back into her mouth. As she returned his kiss, her throaty moan tormented him further.

He pulled away a little, his fingers pushing the merry widow down. She was beautiful and he longed to see her face. He forced his eyes to adjust to the dim light and then he forced himself to picture her face. And then he could see her. Her eyes were closed, but something was so familiar. Lauren? He was dreaming of Lauren.

No. This couldn’t be Lauren. Lauren didn’t wear smoky makeup or have hair the color of honey. He’d dreamed of Lauren once, more than a year ago, but she’d never looked like this. She certainly hadn’t been a siren. She’d never made his body respond, never turned him into a randy teenage schoolboy.

She leaned to kiss him again and he let those provocative lips send him spinning. His body ached with need and Justin clung to the dream.

“Oh, Jeff.”

Every inch of Justin stilled as if cold water had just drenched him. Sharp painful awareness filled him. This wasn’t a dream.

And if this wasn’t a dream…

He was really kissing Lauren. Denial sounded in his brain. No. Jeff and Lauren weren’t… Jeff would have said something. Warned him. Jeff always confided in Justin. Always.

Reality slapped Justin upside the head. He’d been kissing Lauren. She’d been trying to seduce Jeff. She thought he was Jeff. She didn’t realize… “Lauren!”

Her eyes flew open. “Jeff?”

Somehow Justin stood, and already Lauren was scrambling off the couch and to her feet. “This was a bad idea. I’m sorry, I…”

Where was that light? Justin fumbled for the switch, wishing for once that those clap-on, clap-off devices weren’t so silly and that people like his brother actually bought them. His fingers found the knob and he flipped it. Harsh white light flooded the room.

He saw the exact moment that her realization of his identity dawned. Her well-kissed and swollen lips opened in shocked disbelief. Horror claimed those deep brown eyes. He knew exactly what she saw—his near nakedness and his now-softening arousal. Her hand flew to her lips, she gathered her arms around her lace-covered chest, and before Justin could even think of stopping her, she slammed out the front door.

Chapter 3

She’d been kissing Justin! Lauren leaned against her front door for a brief moment to gather her wits. Lock. She needed to lock the door. To her dismay, her hand shook so much that it took her two tries to place the security chain in its holder. The dead bolt, at least, turned easily under her fumbling fingers.

But the fact that her door was now locked didn’t ease her fears. Dear Lord. How had this happened? She’d been kissing the wrong Wright!

Her chest heaved and she could hear the voice of her yoga instructor. Take deep calming breaths. Deep calming breaths. Lauren tried, but those miraculous deep calming breaths her instructor swore by didn’t help. No, right now Lauren still wanted to drop through the floor and bury herself six feet under, forever and ever. She’d been kissing Justin Wright!

She hated Justin. Thought he was the scourge of the planet. He annoyed her. He was rude. A jerk. A womanizer. See? She had proof. He’d ravaged her and… It had been good. Oh, so very good. His kisses had sent shivers to her curling toes.

No! She tried to wipe the kiss away, but her lips still tingled from the touch of his. Think of Jeff. She wanted Jeff, sweet adorable Jeff. Not his wicked playboy twin who was a constant thorn in her side.

Hot tears filled Lauren’s eyes and she mentally berated herself. How could this have happened? What was Justin doing at Jeff’s? And despite the fact that he shouldn’t have been there in the first place, how could she have made such a terrible mistake? Sure, the room had been dark except for the TV. But she should have known. She should have been able to tell the difference between the two brothers. They wore their watches on different wrists. Shouldn’t that have been an early clue that she had the wrong man? But she’d been so swept away!

So, instead of Jeff, she’d kept right on kissing Justin! Now her tears fell freely, ruining the makeup that Meredith had spent two painstaking hours perfecting. Lauren buried her face in her hands for a long anguished moment. Then, in an attempt to cleanse herself of the memory of Justin’s tantalizing touch, Lauren entered the bedroom and stripped off the offending clothes. She tossed the whole lingerie outfit into the deep recesses of her walk-in closet. She preferred never to see it again. The outfit had worked, all right, but not on the right brother.

How did one recover from this gaffe? Did one? Thank God, Justin had said something or she’d have been the making of a Jerry Springer show. Lauren pulled on her warm flannel pajamas, the gown dropping reassuringly to her feet and covering every inch of her body. Jeff had given her the Lang gown last Christmas, and whereas the merry widow had revealed everything, the flannel gown showed absolutely nothing from her neck down.

Lauren didn’t want to face her reflection in the mirror, but she had to. Haunted brown eyes stared back at her. Despite the smearing of her mascara, she still saw traces of Meredith’s miraculous work. All for naught.

Lauren banged her fist on the marble countertop and grabbed a washcloth. Within minutes, she’d washed away the pretty woman men had glanced at more than once. In her place returned ordinary Lauren, who still appeared shell-shocked from discovering she’d been kissing Justin Wright.

Worse, she’d discovered that kissing him had been nothing short of phenomenal. Never before had a kiss sent those sensations to her toes. Never before had fingertips on her breasts sent such heat pooling through her. Wine. She nodded false hope to her reflection. It had been wine and adrenaline. That was all. Nothing else. She’d just gotten caught up in the seductive dance, caught up in the magical moment. For once, she’d been a woman in control, in charge of the seduction she’d initiated. That was what had made even the kisses seem larger than life, better than any other man she’d ever kissed.

It had nothing to do with the fact that the person she’d been kissing had been Justin Wright.

Nothing at all.

Lauren squared her chin and stared at herself in the mirror, but that brought fresh tears to her eyes as her former bravado failed her. She’d kissed Justin.

How did one go from kissing one brother to the other? Should she say to Jeff, “Oops, I made a mistake. Forgive me?” Beg Justin not to say a word? She didn’t want to see Justin at work now, much less talk about what she’d been trying to do.

She wasn’t the type to keep secrets, especially from her best friend, but for this once she’d have to try. She couldn’t tell Jeff. Such a perfect seduction—wasted on the wrong man. So much for good omens. She’d lost before she’d really begun.

The doorbell to her condo began shrilling. “Go away,” Lauren called, but she knew that whoever was at the door couldn’t hear her. She pulled on her cow-print slippers and plodded her way to the front door. As she put her eye to the peephole, her fear was confirmed. Justin stood on the other side.

“Go away,” she yelled again.

“No,” he replied. “Let me in. We need to talk.”

He was the last person she wanted to talk to. Hadn’t she just thought that she’d prefer never to even see him again?

“No, we don’t need to talk,” Lauren said. “I’ve got nothing to say to you. It was all a big mistake. A misunderstanding. Ha-ha. Okay, we’ve shared a laugh. Now go away!”

“No. Be reasonable and let me in. If you don’t, I’ve got Jeff’s key.”

She pressed her eye to the peephole again and jumped back as she realized he was attempting to stare in. She backed away. Her voice quivered slightly as she said, “The key’s useless. The chain’s on.”

His powerful voice boomed through the closed door. “I’ll break your damn door down if I have to, Lauren. It won’t take me but a good kick, and believe me, I can afford the damage.”

Her heart raced. He wouldn’t really kick her door down, right? Although, with her short tenure at Wright Solutions and her three years as Jeff’s neighbor, she knew that when Justin said something, he meant business. But kicking her door down? Of course not. Still, she said, “I’ll have you arrested for breaking and entering.”

“And I’ll tell Jeff exactly what happened between us, exactly what you were attempting to do.”

A silence fell, and Lauren slumped against the doorway. Damn him, but on that count, he had her. Jeff knowing, and hearing, about her indiscretion from his twin brother was the last thing she wanted or needed.

“It’s cold out here, Lauren. All I’m wearing is a sweatshirt and jeans. Do I need to count? I’ll give you until three. One…two…”

Lauren opened the door.

Justin stepped into the condo, a burst of cold winter air arriving with him. His green-eyed gaze flicked over her as he appraised her quickly. “I liked the other outfit better.”

Heat filled her cheeks and she knew her face reddened. She leaned against the front door for much-needed support. “It wasn’t for you.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “Duh. As if I didn’t figure that out. I thought I was dreaming. Hell of a dream, though.”

Justin cocked his head and surveyed her. Lauren’s toes tingled in her slippers and she scrunched them to end the annoying sensation. “Although I admit it’s too bad. Your outfit was a lot better than that granny gown. A hell of a lot better. I liked it a lot. Oh, yeah, a lot.”

Justin attempted a grin, but the moment he did, he acknowledged it was hopeless. He couldn’t melt her icy reserve or bring down the walls she’d built in just a few minutes. Already he could see that she’d stripped off the makeup. She couldn’t change her hair color, though, that soft honey shade that shimmered and called to a man. He liked it. Aw, hell.

Couldn’t she tell that this was an awkward situation for him, too? It wasn’t often that a man thought he was dreaming, woke up to discover that the beautiful woman was real and then learned that the sweet kisses she was bestowing were actually meant for someone else. Lauren had left him in quite a painful state, and as he’d pulled on a pair of Jeff’s jeans and a sweatshirt, Justin had decided that reality, like Mondays, also sucked.

She was his employee, and he’d practically given her a tonsillectomy with his tongue. He’d had his hands on her breasts. Her nipples had pebbled between his fingers. He’d even…

He shoved all those tormenting thoughts aside. All they were doing was getting him aroused again. At the very least he had to work with Lauren. And if she got her way, got what she wanted from the seduction, she might even become his future sister-in-law. That thought wasn’t pleasant, but for her sake and his, he was determined to make the best of the awkward situation.

“I came to apologize,” he said. She gazed at him skeptically. A movement caught his eye and he glanced down. Her foot was wiggling inside the slipper as if she was attempting to tap her foot. Were those actually cow faces on her feet? He yanked his gaze upward, and this time it landed on the small pink bow located at the center of the ruffle. Right where her breasts met.

Despite the concealing flannel fabric, Justin’s mind went into overdrive picturing what lay beneath. He raised his eyes, now getting a good view of her new hairdo. Wow. Even now his fingers itched to again touch the honey-colored strands.

“You were saying?” Lauren prompted.

He tried to focus, but what he really wanted to do was pick her up, carry her to bed and strip off the offending flannel that tormented him. “Justin?”

“Oh, yeah. God, Lauren, this sounds so lame. And I am sorry. I thought I was dreaming. I didn’t realize I wasn’t until, well…” He paused because she appeared stricken again. “I realized I wasn’t dreaming when you called me Jeff. I’m assuming you thought I was him.”

Lauren was suddenly in motion, her slippers shuffling as she strode past him. Worried she was going to flee, Justin put out his hand and grabbed her arm. Despite the gown’s long sleeve, electricity flared through him, sending a spark all the way to his feet.

“Static,” he said. The wide-eyed look on her face told him she’d felt it, too, and that she knew he’d lied about the cause. But she’d stopped her flight, and he dropped his arm to his side. He shoved his hand into his front jeans pocket.

“We need to talk about what happened,” Justin reiterated.

Lauren shook her head so furiously that locks of her hair fell into her face. His fingers desired to push the wayward strands away.

“No,” she said. “We don’t need to talk. We pretend it didn’t happen. We don’t tell Jeff. We ignore each other at work. That’s all we need to do and everything will be fine.”

He wished it were just that simple. “Lauren, I kissed you.”

Her chin jutted forward into that stubborn line he’d seen so many times at the office. “So what if you kissed me? I’m sure you kiss a lot of women. And it was just a kiss.” Her face reddened. “And okay, maybe a little more. But it meant nothing. I’d had a few glasses of wine. Plus, I didn’t know it was you.”

Ouch. True, perhaps, but actually hearing the words certainly dented his male ego and pride. He’d kissed her, and it had been fantastic. Better than fantastic. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been celibate for a year.

He focused on Lauren’s lips. Even devoid of all gloss and color, they were beautiful. As was she. Had he never really seen her before this moment? He sobered slightly. Jeff probably hadn’t, either, which was why she’d chosen to seduce him. Stupid lucky guy.

“Listen, Justin, if we both purge the memory from our brains, then we can simply rewrite history and pretend tonight didn’t happen. Okay? Besides, isn’t that what men do all the time?”

No, it wasn’t, and her perfect PR answer was not okay. He frowned. Was it really that easy for women to write something off? The memory of her kiss and the feel of her body would be etched in his brain for quite a while to come. But, Justin’s mama had raised her boys to be chivalrous. This situation certainly called for that. “All right. If that’s the way you want it and if you can live with that decision, well, so can I. We’ll purge our memories. Pretend tonight didn’t happen.”

“Good.” Lauren nodded and her hair fell about her shoulders. He stifled a groan. Sleep would not be at all peaceful tonight.

“Anyway, now that we’ve got this situation settled…” Her voice trailed off and she glanced at the door.

A sense of letdown filled him and Lauren’s dismissal didn’t sit well. “You want me to go.”

“If I’m not being too rude,” Lauren said. “I think I want to get some sleep. I have a busy day tomorrow, what with being off today. I’m sure there were things that I missed.”

She’d missed all the company crises, but Justin didn’t care about those anymore. This crisis was more important. He stared at her, seeing her flushed face, the subtle impatience in her features. She’d covered her embarrassment admirably, and thus his respect for her grew. No, now wasn’t the time to fill her in on all the crises that the company had handled today.

“Yeah, you probably do have a busy day,” Justin said. He felt more awkward than a kid on his first date. His brother was way too fortunate and Justin had the urge to beat Jeff up the moment he returned from Buffalo, just for old times’ sake. “I guess I’ll see you at the office.”

“Sure,” Lauren said with a relieved nod. “It’ll be fine, really. Nothing will change and everything will be just as it was before. You’ll see.”

Somehow Justin didn’t believe her as he went back over to his brother’s condo. No, he’d kissed her. All she’d done was make him see her differently: see her as a desirable woman, instead of just an employee with lots of expensive ideas. No, he doubted anything could be the same between them again.

Justin Wright tossed the briefcase down. It landed on his desk with an annoying thump. Tuesdays should be outlawed, especially Tuesdays following long, sleepless Monday nights filled with erotic and sexy dreams of Lauren Brown. “Sylvia!”

Sylvia entered his office and arched an eyebrow at him. “Yes?”

“Is Lauren in?”

“Of course she is. Her personal day was yesterday, remember?”

Justin attempted to put out of his mind the erotic image of just how personal that day had gotten. “So she’s here.”

“I said she was. You’re the one who’s fashionably late,” Sylvia pointed out.

Justin grimaced. “I didn’t sleep well last night, so when I finally did I caught a few extra Zs. I’m staying at Jeff’s until my floors are done.” He suddenly made a fist. “Why am I explaining myself? You’re my secretary, not my mother.”

Sylvia’s eyes twinkled and she shrugged. “Who knows? Anyhow, would you like me to fetch Lauren for you?”

Justin shook his head. “No, I’ll go find her. Later. Right now I need the Peters report and my mail.”

“I’ll get both.” Sylvia left the office. She stuck her head back in. “Do you want some coffee? You seem like you could use caffeine. I just made a fresh pot.”

“Sure,” Justin growled. For the next few minutes he buried himself in his work, then finally pushed the meeting minutes aside. He had to admit: his concentration was shot. His eyelids felt heavy, and for a moment he let them drift mercifully closed. Maybe here in the office he wouldn’t picture Lauren dancing half-naked, feel the touch of her lips on his.

“Sleeping on the job?”

His eyes flew open. He recognized that voice. “Lauren.”

“I ran into Sylvia in the kitchen. She said you were asking about me.”

Lauren held out a steaming mug of coffee, and their fingers touched briefly as he took the mug from her. Just like last night, Justin felt electricity spark between them. He resolved to turn up the humidifiers.

“So when you asked Sylvia if I was here, did you need something, or were you afraid I would take a sick day, that I somehow couldn’t face you?”

No, that wasn’t it at all, but now that she was in his office, he wasn’t ready to face her.

At least not yet.

He had to get himself together. She’d tormented his dreams, and now here she was in the flesh. Bad verbiage. Here she was, standing in front of him.

Oh, whatever. He tossed aside his attempts at proper semantics. For even though she wore a plain boring business skirt and nondescript beige blouse instead of that tight red sweater like Friday, Justin could no longer envision plain old Lauren Brown. Her hair color was different, her makeup had changed. But the real reason was that he had changed. His body had felt hers, and it was a fresh, delectable memory despite its ending. Try as he might, Justin didn’t see his PR employee; instead, he still saw the siren who’d danced, who’d called to him and seduced him with a spiraling kiss.

“So, did you have something you needed?” Lauren asked again.

Yeah, he needed, all right. He needed to get Lauren out of his system. Unfortunately, tossing her over his desk was sexual harassment, and the other option—sending her far away to Siberia—also wouldn’t work. She had a job to do, and she wanted his brother.

Heck, no one had ever really wanted nerdy Jeff over supercool Justin, at least in the long-term, forever way. But Lauren did.

Worse, he couldn’t take on the challenge. He couldn’t pursue her, topple her defenses, capture those lips again in a mind-numbing kiss. She didn’t want him, and while he could get her to desire him physically and get her to beg for his touch, he’d grown tired of those juvenile games aeons ago. As it was, she didn’t respect him. And respect was what he craved. His mother had raised a chivalrous man, despite what some might think.

He tried to cover. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to talk to you, to make sure we’re still squared away about last night.”

Lauren’s eyes darted around Justin’s office as if she was afraid someone else might be listening. “What was last night?”

One spectacular moment that had been blasted away. Justin inhaled a deep breath. “Let me use another tactic. Since we all work together, I wanted to make peace and offer to help you.”

Did her eyebrow have to look that sexy when it arched? Sylvia’s never did, which was why after five years she was still his secretary. That and she was his mother’s age. “Help me?” Lauren asked.

Justin struggled for some semblance of control. He hadn’t meant to wing this. “Well, yeah. The way I figure it is this: You want Jeff. You like Jeff. I know my brother. He’s like mud. Dense and clueless. He probably has no idea you like him or want him. Thus, last night’s very sexy seduction attempt.”

Hoping to eliminate her deer-in-the-headlights expression, Justin pressed on. He’d always been cool with the ladies, a master of the words. Now he was making a bad situation worse. “What I mean to say is that I feel horrible that I messed everything up. I want to make it up to you. The only way I can figure out how to put things right is to help you win over the man of your dreams.”

Her look was disbelieving and dubious. “Man of my dreams?”

“Jeff. My brother. He is, isn’t he? The man of your dreams?”

A regretful twinge filled Justin as for a moment her face appeared dreamy. Then her skeptical facade returned. “And if he is?”

“The way I figure it is this. You need some help in getting him to notice you. Not that last night, ah, probably wouldn’t work again.” It sure worked for me, Justin didn’t add. “Anyway, I can give you that help. I know my brother better than anyone. Perhaps it’s that twin thing. You’d be good for him. Probably too good, even.”

As Lauren’s skepticism changed into a small tentative smile, Justin felt a glimmer of hope. “Thank you. You are surprising.”

Now it was his turn to be confused. “I am?”

“Yes. You’re not half as bad as I thought. You’ve handled this situation rather well, and I appreciate that you think I’m too good for him.”

“Uh, gee,” Justin said, kicking himself for how lame that sounded. Here he was, as gawky as a teenager instead of the suave businessman he’d become.

Lauren smiled suddenly, and Justin’s gut clenched. He gulped some coffee, the hot liquid burning his tongue because he drank it too fast. His only reward was that she hadn’t noticed his painful wince.

“You know, perhaps you’re not all of what your playboy reputation or your brutish office mannerisms make you out to be. It’s sweet of you to offer. Really, no offense meant, but I’ll handle this situation my way.”

Playboy rep? Brutish office mannerisms? Okay, he could live with that. He was a bit forceful. However, he was not a playboy, and hearing the word, especially from Lauren’s lips, stung. His going without sex for a year had been a conscious choice—that of a man who didn’t need to keep his bed warm just so he could rut. “Okay, then. I just thought I could give you some tips, help you somehow. To compensate for last night.”

“I understand, and it’s a generous gesture. But I’ll deal with Jeff in my own time. What I’d like from you is just your sworn secrecy.”

“My lips are sealed,” Justin said. He enjoyed some morbid satisfaction that Lauren’s brown eyes darkened. After all, as he took another sip of the burning, biting black coffee, chivalry sucked.

“You look great, Lauren. I like your hair. You’ll have to tell me later where you went.”

“Thanks, Sylvia,” Lauren said as she passed Justin’s secretary’s desk. “I promise to tell you. But remind me.”

“I’ll hold you to that. I’m sure you’re a bit behind after yesterday.”

“That I am,” Lauren said, rounding the corner and putting space between her body and Justin’s office. Moments after he’d cracked that “lips are sealed” comment, she’d voiced her excuses and fled.

She didn’t ever want to remember or think about Justin’s lips in any context. She’d been trying to erase the memory of those spectacular kisses ever since they’d happened.

As for accepting his help, the farther away from him she stayed, the better. Justin Wright raised dangerous sensations in her. She couldn’t trust dangerous sensations. They’d gotten her in trouble once before, with Mike. She’d thought he’d changed his playboy ways, until three months after moving in with him she’d discovered another woman’s panties in her bed. Thankfully, she hadn’t joined bank accounts the way Mike had been pressing her to do.

Justin had some of the same playboy manner. She’d seen him run through women, although she had to admit she hadn’t seen him run through any lately. But then, he wasn’t at Jeff’s as often as he had been in the past.

Too bad he’d chosen last night to be there. And he had kissed her. Dream or no dream, that wasn’t an excuse. That was why she liked Jeff. Jeff, who was nice, safe and secure, not a playboy like his brother. That was what she envisioned for her future. Wasn’t it?

For a moment, her head clouded and she wasn’t sure. She shook her head and cleared her thoughts. Outside her window a man was parking his nice family sedan and entering the neighboring building. That was what Jeff was. A family sedan. Dependable. Reliable. They just needed to add some speed to their relationship. She didn’t desire another Mike and all his idle promises.

She pressed a finger to her lips. Justin Wright, despite his tantalizing touch, was wrong for her. All wrong.

And she had too much work to do to worry about him anymore. Giving herself a nod of encouragement, she pushed his memory away.

Chapter 4

“So, did you miss me?” Jeff’s infectious grin widened, and despite her earlier misgivings about what would happen upon seeing him again, Lauren smiled right back.

She pointed to the huge basket of laundry he carried in his arms. “I don’t think I missed you that much.”

Jeff’s grin turned sheepish. “Nah, probably not, but to make up for it, I’ll buy the Chinese food that’s on its way.”

“Ooh, sold,” Lauren said. She opened her front door wider, the cold air coming to swirl around her bare feet. In a moment she’d put her cow slippers on. “I guess you can come in.”

“Thanks.” Jeff bumped Lauren’s Christmas wreath as he entered the condo and made his way to her laundry closet. She straightened the wreath out and closed the door. “You know, one of these days I will buy a washer and dryer,” he called back over his shoulder.

“You keep promising,” Lauren said as she followed him into her kitchen.

Jeff set the laundry basket on the kitchen table. “No, not promising, just saying. There’s a difference.”

“Yeah, which is why you’re always here with your laundry basket.”

He pulled open the double doors that concealed the washer and dryer. “Oh, come on. It’s your wonderful company.”

“I just live closer than your mother,” Lauren said. “And she’d harp on you about finding a wife.”

“True,” Jeff acknowledged. “You’re cuter than my mom, too.” He opened the washing-machine lid, turned around and squinted for a moment. “Did you do something with your hair?”

“I had it cut and colored.”

“Looks good,” Jeff said as he dumped the basket out onto the table. “So was that the surprise?”

As if he’d really noticed, Lauren thought. He’d hardly glanced at her hair. But then, why should he? She was only a pal. She sighed, but as he sorted his whites from his darks, Jeff didn’t notice her resignation. “That was the surprise,” she said.

“Cool. So, did you catch the game Monday night?” Jeff asked.

“No,” Lauren said quickly.

Jeff paused from loading the dark clothes into the washer. His eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe it. You missed Monday Night Football? What happened? That’s unreal.”

Lauren thought quickly. “Yeah, I know. But my mom wanted some help putting up her Christmas tree. And since you were out of town…”

“Too bad. You missed a great game. Even listening to the game being streamed live over the Internet was better than nothing.” The image of domestic bachelor bliss, Jeff poured liquid soap into the washer. “At least Justin fed my cat. Seen much of him lately?”

“Your cat?”

“Ha-ha. You’ve become a joker since I left for Buffalo. I meant my brother.”

“Just at work,” Lauren replied.

“He didn’t have any parties, no hot babes all over the place?”

Not unless she’d now be considered a hot babe. And of course he’d stopped before “having” her. “No. It was pretty quiet. I didn’t even notice he was there.”

Superstition had her crossing her fingers behind her back just to be on the safe side.

Jeff shook his head in disbelief as he turned the washer on. “The boy must be slipping. He hasn’t dated anyone serious in quite a while. A year, I think. Rather unlike him. Perhaps I should sign him up for one of those dating services, like that ‘just lunch’ one. Or force him to place a personal ad or something the way we did Jared. I’ll have to mull it over.”

“Maybe he’s finally maturing.”

“Nah, his babe-of-the-month-club subscription probably expired,” Jeff said. He pressed Start and the washer began filling. “It is Christmas. Maybe I’ll get him another one. Hmm. Think that’s a good idea?”

Lauren didn’t want to talk about Justin or his legion of past women. She avoided the question by changing the subject. “So, how was your mother’s birthday party?”

Jeff tossed the whites back into the laundry basket. “Good. She loved her gifts and hounded us to get married so that we can give her grandbabies. She said cats and computers don’t cut it.”

“That would be your mom.” Lauren had met Mrs. Wright on quite a few occasions when she’d visited Jeff.

“She’s definitely got a mind of her own,” Jeff said. “She keeps telling us she wants granddaughters. I think she’s tired of being surrounded by all boys at family gatherings. Justin and I are hoping that Jared will take the heat off.” Jeff paused as a knock sounded on Lauren’s front door. “Come on in,” he called.

Lauren frowned. “Food already?”

Jeff shook his head. “Too soon. I only phoned them about ten minutes ago, right before I came over here. I wanted to wait until after Justin arrived so he could eat, too. I’d never hear the end of it otherwise.”

Justin was coming? Lauren blinked as a stone dropped in her stomach. She’d envisioned a quiet evening with Jeff. She tried to focus on what Jeff was saying. “I left a message on the counter for Justin to head over when he got home. Tonight’s hopefully his last night staying at my place. I’m getting sick of him.”

Justin’s grin was infectious as he entered the small kitchen, but to Lauren his smile spelled doom. “Yeah, I’m getting sick of you, too. Plus, I’m tired of wearing your clothes.”

Jeff laughed. “You just don’t have any style or taste.”

“I do, too,” Justin retorted. Lauren knew the brothers were teasing each other.

“You’re lucky business casual is now an art form.” Jeff rummaged in Lauren’s refrigerator and removed a bottle of the beer Lauren kept just for him. Except for an occasional one during Monday Night Football, she rarely drank beer. “Want one?” Jeff asked his brother.

“Sure,” Justin said. He glanced at Lauren. She glanced at her feet. “Hello, Lauren.”

“Hello, Justin,” Lauren replied. She picked up the laundry basket and moved it to the floor. Two seconds without having to look at him. She closed the closet doors—three seconds more. So much for her Thursday evening. She’d been avoiding Justin for two days, ever since the encounter in his office. She’d been doing a good job of it up until this point.

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