Operation Sizzle

by Darcy Lundeen

  “But what about some of the other dresses?” She hopefully touched a soft-pink gown with a scoop neckline and two rows of ruffles around the hem.

  He groaned and gave her a disgusted look. “If you want to sizzle for Tyler, that dress is the ticket, not some washed-out pink number with frills.”

  Betsy took a breath, gave his wet-dream getup another wary once-over, and shook her head. “I can’t wear this. I’ll look like a female impersonator.”

  He heaved a sigh. “Don’t be dense. You are a female. You don’t have to impersonate one.” He turned her around by the shoulders and gently pushed her in the direction of the dressing rooms. “Go on, stop arguing and try it on. You’ll look great.”

  And she did look great. At least she thought she did. And from the strange gleam in his eyes when she came out of the dressing room to model it for him, Matt thought so, too.

  The dress was an eye-catching ruby red—so not her usual color. But she had to admit it didn’t look half bad on her. The cut was also completely out of her comfort zone. It was strapless, with a seriously sexy, low-cut neckline, a slit in the skirt that exposed a good six inches of thigh, and a fabric so body-hugging that it did nothing to hide the fact her shape was more curvy than model-thin.

  Somehow, it reminded her of the sexy outfit Rob had once helped her choose. Definitely another semi-streetwalker dress, though a decidedly high-class version of one. But this time, she didn’t care, because she’d seen the look on Matt’s face, and if he thought she sizzled in the dress, then Tyler would probably think so, too.

  She noticed one of the men sitting in the waiting area glance her way and sit up straighter, giving her a thorough appraisal, his sudden smile telling her everything she needed to know about the way she looked. And it was all good.

  Biting back her own smile, she ran her hands down her sides and studied her reflection in the mirror. Then her gaze met Matt’s in the glass and locked with it, and she forgot wanting to smile.

  He was sitting over to one side, not smiling either, and still wearing the expression he’d worn since she came out of the dressing room to show him how the dress looked—that same focused stare.

  A ricochet of heat went through her. This is ridiculous. He’s admiring the fact that he made a good choice in picking this dress. He’s not admiring me in the dress. Gay men didn’t do that. Not the way he was doing it, with that crazy-intense look in his eyes. Okay, cut it out now and stick to basics.

  So she did. “I’ll take it.” She cleared her throat because suddenly her voice sounded unnaturally husky.

  He nodded and shifted in his chair. “Good decision.” He cleared his throat too. Strangely, his voice was also just a little huskier than usual.

  ****

  Good decision, ha! Matt was proud how low-key his support had sounded.

  Of course she’d take the dress, even though she was skittish about wearing something so revealing. How could she not take it when she looked like sex incarnate in the damn thing?

  The dress felt incredibly soft when he took it from the rack and gave it to her. The fabric brushed against his fingers smooth as the touch of silk. But no matter how soft it was, her skin was softer.

  His gaze traveled down the length of the dress, down the length of her body, all those gentle curves filling the material so perfectly it seemed as though the dress had always waited for her body to put it on and give it life.

  His mouth went dry at the thought, and something inside of him rebelled at the idea of offering all of that softness, all of those curves to Tyler. He sat up straighter, ready to jump to his feet, grab her, and tell her in no uncertain terms that someday she'd find the right man. But not Tyler. Never Tyler.

  One of the other men seated nearby had suddenly perked up as Betsy posed in front of the mirror, his boredom with waiting for his lady happily diverted into lust. Matt frowned at the man, but the besotted fool was too busy eyeing Betsy to pay any attention to his warning glare.

  Great. This guy got to ogle her sexily shifting parts in the dress Matt had chosen, and soon the clueless Tyler would get to do the same thing. And all he got for his trouble was her naked body during their lessons.

  Her naked body.

  The realization cheered him up for a moment. Then he remembered he’d just wrapped that body in a sizzling, leave-almost-nothing-to-the-imagination package as an offering to Tyler. His grumpiness returned until he noticed how happy she looked studying herself in the mirror with a radiant sense of discovery and surprise. Betsy Kincaid was finally realizing she could contend with the hottest babes around and easily take home the grand prize.

  All right. The weight of his noble decision sat like a boulder in his gut. Drop the grump factor, be the cheerful buddy, and let her have what she wants—a chance to make the biggest mistake of her life with a jerk who wouldn’t know “sizzle” if it branded a giant capital S on his balls.

  “Actually, it’s better than a good decision.” Matt forced a smile when all he wanted to do was tell her what he really thought about Tyler, then take her back to the apartment and show her what love with a real man was all about. “It’s a great decision. You look wonderful in that dress.” He pushed up from his chair, eager to leave before he lost his self-control and punched out the leering creep who still eyeballed her as if he planned on having her for dinner. “Come on, let’s pay for it and do the rest of your shopping.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  An hour later, they left the store, lugging her purchases—the totally un-Betsy-like red dress Matt had chosen for her and a sleek black cashmere coat to wear with it.

  Actually, Matt was the one doing the lugging, and Betsy was the one enjoying the luxury of having a strong arm to perform the heavy lifting.

  She sighed with satisfaction even though the cost of the clothes had eaten a large chunk out of her weekly salary. As she moved her tote bag from one shoulder to the other, she looked up at Matt. “Well, that worked out beautifully.”

  He nodded but didn’t look back at her. “Absolutely perfect. But what about shoes? No new shoes to wear with the new clothes? I thought women always needed new shoes, even when they didn’t have new clothes to wear them with.”

  That made her smile. New shoes. Of course there’d be new shoes, and she knew just the ones she wanted. “There’s a pair I saw at a shop near my apartment. They’re on sale, too. I’ll pick them up in a couple of days. They should look perfect with my new dress.” What there was of it.

  “Wonderful. Sizzling shoes to match your sizzling dress.”

  Betsy glanced at him. There was an undertone to the words, and he’d been in such a strange mood when they met earlier. “Matt, when we met at the store, you seemed a little distracted. Is everything all right?”

  He shrugged and shifted the packages so he had one hand free to take her arm when they crossed the street. “Nothing to complain about.” He checked the intersection for traffic.

  “Your new job’s going well?”

  “Wonderful. I’m handling a product liability case. Very interesting.”

  Betsy nodded. All right, no help there. God, the man was either being naturally obtuse, deliberately evasive, or else just subject to irrational mood swings. “Good, good. And nothing’s wrong with Rob?” For some reason she couldn’t let it go. She was going to continue probing until she could figure out what was causing his pissy mood.

  Matt chuckled. “You mean besides the fact that his snoring sounds like a jackhammer? No, no problem with him or our arrangement, but I may have some news in a few days.”

  Her ears pricked up. “News? What kind of news?”

  He shook his head. “In a few days, I said. Don’t be impatient.”

  Don’t be impatient. She gritted her teeth, just barely resisting the urge to scream. First, the man hinted at some important news, then he refused to reveal what it was. Most annoying of all, he wouldn’t even discuss the things that might be bothering him.

  Forcing back a groan of frustra
tion, she tried one last time. “Matt, look, I don’t mean to nag, but are you sure—”

  “Positive.” He tightened his grip on her arm and stepped off the curb, forcing her to follow. “Come on, no cars are coming. I think we can buck the light and make it across.”

  “Right.” She gave up on her interrogation, since the man was determined to be mysterious.

  Picking up her pace to mirror his, she let him tug her into the road. The light was against them, but he was right. There was no oncoming traffic in sight…at least not until they reached the halfway mark, and a van came barreling around the corner, freely claiming its legal right of way.

  “Crap.” Matt pulled her along as he set off at a pounding sprint to reach the sidewalk.

  And, again, he had her running with him as they’d run together through the pouring rain the day before. They bolted onto the curb as the van whooshed by behind them, honking its horn, and she found herself leaning against Matt when he released her arm and slid his arm around her shoulders to steady her.

  Betsy gulped air, breathing too hard to hear much more than the driver’s pissed-off voice screaming at them to “Watch It!” Damn good advice. She slipped out of Matt’s steadying embrace and leaned against the wall of a building to catch her breath.

  He looked down at her, frowning with concern. “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes, but that was a close one. My mother always warned me not to cross against the light.”

  “Your mother was right.” He shrugged and flashed a sheepish smile. “And I was wrong. Sorry.”

  She smiled back. After everything he’d unselfishly done to help her, she couldn’t be angry, even though dodging oncoming traffic was one of her least-favorite pastimes. “You’re forgiven.” She reached up to push away some hair that had fallen over her brow during their run.

  But, again, his hand got there first, the way it had yesterday at the elevator. He smoothed the hair back, his fingers warm and gentle, and so intimate that heat flared in her skin.

  She tried to ignore it, just as she tried to ignore the dampness that was building between her thighs and the fact that he was spewing exquisitely seductive male pheromones all over her personal space. Most of all, she tried to ignore the damn vibration that set up an insistent thrumming deep inside of her at the sensation of his skin sliding innocently against hers.

  “Thank you. It’s always nice to be forgiven.”

  Then, mercifully, he lowered his hand and stepped away, releasing her from his pheromones and his touch, but not quite from the crazy vibration still pulsing away inside of her.

  “Come on.” He held up her packages to show that they were still safe. “I’ll take you and your dress home before I do something even more stupid and get us both killed.”

  Pushing away from the wall, Betsy nodded and followed him down the street, silently telling herself to stop the vibrations because she didn’t have that kind of relationship with Matt, and never would.

  ****

  Do not stroke her hair, Matt warned himself as they started walking again. Do not touch her cheek. Do not—

  He cut off the list of do-nots and cast a sidewise glance at Betsy. She was walking slowly beside him, looking straight ahead, probably still a little shaken by their close call. He wanted to take her in his arms and rock her like a baby while he told her not to be afraid, everything was fine now, she was safe. But that was also on his do-not list.

  He bit back a sudden groan of frustration. Well, the hell with that stupid list. What about his more important do-it-and-do-it-up-big list? The things he wanted before she wore her new dress and went into a permanent sizzling frenzy with Tyler.

  They were simple things, too. He wanted a little more time with her, a few more lessons, maybe even the chance to make her see that she was settling for a lot less than she deserved. And, damn, he had a right to those things since he was the one helping to prepare her for her big moment.

  Then the truth of it hit him like a punch to the gut.

  It was her big moment, the one she wanted to share with her former lover, and it had nothing to do with him.

  Well, okay, he could handle that. So he was irrelevant except as a means to reaching her goal. No problem. He’d known that for a long time, and he could deal with it. Their lives were never meant to intertwine. It was just an accident that they had. And now it was time for them to go their separate ways again. Fine. No big loss to him.

  After all, she was just another woman. There was nothing that special about her. No one would ever mistake her for a model. She was too short, too round. And her face didn’t have great contours, either. Certainly not like the gorgeous babes on magazine covers. Maybe that guy in the dress department thought she was hot, but a billionaire master-of-the-universe, with his choice of wall-to-wall beauty contest winners, would never give her a second glance. And as soon as Matt got the call about finally signing that damned lease, he wouldn’t give her a second glance, either.

  She moved closer to him as they approached the corner, and her shoulder brushed against him. He stiffened at the sensation, then forced himself to relax.

  Dumb reaction. And totally unwarranted.

  Only horny teenage guys stiffened when they brushed against women, and he was well beyond the teenage-guy stage, thank God. Which meant he could control his needs, his wants, his emotions, and those damned hormones of his. And that’s all Betsy Kincaid was—a hormone disrupter he could turn off as easily as he turned off a light bulb.

  They reached the corner and stopped for the light. This time he’d be damned if he suggested they try to make it to the other side while traffic still had right of way. They might end up running for their lives again, and then maybe he’d touch her cheek again. Not that it would affect him this time. He was too good at controlling his emotions to let a hormone disrupter like Betsy Kincaid unnerve him.

  “You’re sure you don’t want to tell me about this news of yours?” She obviously wasn’t going to let the subject drop.

  He kept his gaze focused on the cars whizzing past as he thought about her question. This news of yours.

  The news that would put enough distance between them so she could get on with her life and he could get on with his. Two separate lives with almost zero chance of their intersecting. It was the perfect ending to their brief relationship… the ending that would let him put this phase of his life behind him and see their lessons for what they really were—the best chance any man ever had to get some blameless, high-octane, no-strings-attached sex.

  “A little patience, please,” he told her. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  As the light changed, he deliberately took her arm to prove there was nothing special about touching her. And there wasn’t. No heat surged through his skin at the feel of her. Then he glanced at her again. Same reaction. Nothing. No increased heartbeat or uncontrollable breathlessness at the sight of her.

  He couldn’t help smiling at his lack of crazy reactions. Wonderful. See? Nothing to it. When he acted like a grownup, nothing earth-shattering happened, proving that to him she was just one more irrelevant female among millions.

  She looked up at him, but even her big blue eyes didn’t affect him.

  “I hate waiting for surprises. But if I have to, I guess I have to.” She paused, and quickly licked her lips.

  He stared at her darting tongue. That did nothing to shake his equilibrium. Not a thing.

  “Matt, are you sure everything’s all right? There were times today when you acted like something was bothering you.”

  He shrugged. Everything was going to be fine. “Did I? Sorry. I had a problem, but I think I found the perfect solution.”

  And he had. Just schedule another session or two of fun and games with the lady. That would be the perfect solution, the perfect way to hammer that last nail in the coffin of their relationship. Then, bye-bye, Betsy. Cut the whole thing off as cleanly and precisely as a surgical excision.

  As they crossed the street
, he silently congratulated himself on what a coldly calculating guy he was…and determinedly ignored the small voice in his mind that called him a liar.

  ****

  “Want me to carry the packages inside for you?” Matt asked when they reached her apartment.

  Betsy unlocked the front door and pushed it open, then hesitated as she considered her options.

  She hadn’t invited him in the day before, and it probably wasn’t such a good idea to invite him in today either, especially not after the way her body had reacted again to the simple touch of his hand against her cheek.

  A lock was being turned behind them. In another second Mrs. Lattimer’s door would be opening, immediately followed by Mrs. Lattimer’s head popping out to do a periscope survey of the hallway.

  It wasn’t something Betsy wanted. Now that she had a plan for helping the Donnellys, she didn’t feel as intimidated by neighbor Lattimer as she once was. Still, the less interaction she had with the lady and her censorious attitude, the better. So she nodded and backed into her foyer. “Yes, definitely, come in.” She pulled him into the apartment with her.

  Mrs. Lattimer’s door was opening, so it was mercifully just in time to avoid an actual meeting with the lady.

  She quickly secured the lock on her door and turned to him. “Take your coat off. I’m making you dinner to thank you for helping me.”

  “No thanks necessary.” He followed her into the living room. “But dinner sounds good.”

  Betsy shucked her jacket and tossed it over the back of a chair. “Afterward, maybe we can watch TV or—” She cut off the rest of the possibilities, not wanting to go there.

  “Or what?” He went there for her.

  She shook her head. “Not sure.”