Kylie blinked. "Why?"
"Because after you asked me to fax you his bio, I realized how sketchy it was. So I decided to do a little investigating. And I found out the real story behind the myth. Harry Hanover isn't a hermit with agoraphobia. Hell, Harry Hanover isn't even the jerk's real name. It's an alias he uses to keep from getting caught."
"Getting caught?" Kylie echoed. "I don't understand."
"The man is a con artist, sis," Evan explained. "He's been married about twenty times. And you know all those car repair manuals he wrote for Handy Press?"
"Yes."
"Well, guess what, he never wrote them. He plagiarized them. The real author is a mechanic who's been living in Europe for the past ten years, working for the Grand Prix. His wife made a visit to the States last month and bought a copy of How To Jump-Start Your Love Life. And guess what she saw on the cover page."
Kylie closed her eyes with a groan. "A list of all of Harry's past books?"
"That's right. The guy called yesterday and is threatening a lawsuit against us."
Her eyes flew open.
"But it's not our fault! Harry signed a contract stating that each book was his original work. He lied to us."
Dexter folded his arms across his chest. "Apparently that's the man's only true talent. But what about this latest book? Is How To Jump-Start Your Love Life another case of plagiarism?"
Evan shook his head. "Not according to Harry. He explained it all to me when he was taping me to the chair. His charm and charisma are the reason he persuaded all those women to marry him."
"Like Delores," Kylie murmured.
"Who's Delores?" Evan asked.
She sighed. "Never mind. It's a long story."
"Well, anyway, Harry decided to cash in on his knowledge of seducing the fairer sex by writing How To Jump-Start Your Love Life. Only he couldn't do the book tour because he's wanted in several states for fraud and petty larceny."
Kylie shook her head in disbelief. "You mean, we've been promoting the book of a felon?"
"That's right," Evan replied. "And it looks like Handy Press is going to pay the penalty for Harry's crimes. Once this news gets out, my business will be finished."
"Why does anyone have to know?" Kylie asked. "Maybe we can just end the book tour and keep quiet about Harry's criminal activities? Surely the police will catch him sooner or later."
"What about the plagiarism suit?" Evan asked. "Once that gets out, so will the rest of the story."
"And don't forget Delores," Dexter added. "She's one of Harry's wives. And she's determined to get a chunk of the royalties from How To Jump-Start Your Love Life."
Evan raked one hand through his hair. "Can it possibly get any worse?"
"I'm afraid it can," Kylie replied. "Delores knows Dexter isn't Harry. She asked for ten thousand dollars to keep that little secret."
They all looked at each other, then Evan burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" Kylie asked, her forehead etched in concern.
"This," he said, gasping for air as he sat down beside her. "Us. Hell, what does it matter if Handy Press goes down the drain? And so what if the media has a field day with the scandal? We'll survive."
She reached for her brother's hand, a tender smile curving her mouth. "We've certainly survived worse."
Dexter watched them, still certain there had to be a way to save Handy Press. Just the thought of losing the Kane Corporation made his blood run cold. He couldn't let them just give up. Not when it was so important. "Maybe your business will survive this, too."
Evan shook his head. "Too late, Dexter. It's over. Once this story gets out, Handy Press will be finished."
"I disagree. Not if you're the one controlling the message."
Kylie looked thoughtful, but not too hopeful. "Maybe the public could handle the charge of plagiarism. Most people don't pay attention to those kinds of lawsuits anyway. But when they find out you've been impersonating Harry, and that the real Harry Hanover is a sleazy criminal, they won't be so understanding."
"Unless we put just the right spin on it."
Kylie looked up at him. "How?"
"I have an idea."
* * *
13
« ^ »
Three days later, Dexter and Kylie lingered over dessert in the small bistro connected by a breezeway to their hotel. Dexter had noticed Kylie's lack of appetite during dinner, but hadn't nagged her about it. He knew she believed her brother's livelihood was hanging by a thread. And she was right.
"I hope it works," she said, swirling her spoon in the whipped cream of her brownie sundae.
"Evan seemed to like the idea," Dexter replied, pushing his cake plate away.
She smiled. "My brother is a fatalist. He believes everything happens for a reason. If he lost Handy Press, he'd just move onto something else. But I know how much his business means to him. He built it out of nothing and it's on the brink of becoming a huge success."
Dexter nodded, empathizing with her. He knew firsthand the importance of keeping a business in the family. "You've got to fight for what you want."
"Exactly." She squared her shoulders. "Okay, let's go over the plan one more time."
Despite the low lighting in the bistro, he could see the fiery sparks in her brown eyes. She was definitely a fighter. It was one of the things about her that appealed most to him. Along with her wit. Her intelligence. Her face. Her body. Her kisses.
Dexter cleared his throat, his thoughts definitely moving in the wrong direction. Along with his blood supply. This was business. Strictly business. And he knew better than anyone that nothing mattered more. He'd lived his entire life believing it.
"Tomorrow will give us the perfect opportunity to present our side of the story to the media," Dexter began. "The Stop Domestic Violence Foundation has invited me to sign books at their afternoon reception. The press will be there in full force."
She nodded. "And you'll be wearing a tuxedo, so you'll look fantastic."
"You think so?"
She blushed. "You always look fantastic, Harry. That's why all these women are crazy about you."
He stared at her for a long moment. "Considering the circumstances, maybe you shouldn't call me by that name anymore."
She shook her head. "We need to keep up the charade. At least until tomorrow."
"That's when I'll stand up and announce that I have a statement."
"No, not a statement. A surprise. We want to put a positive spin on this."
He nodded. "Okay, a surprise. I'll tell them I'm not the real Harry Hanover. That Handy Press decided to embark on a masquerade…"
"Cleverly decided to embark on a masquerade," Kylie interjected.
"Okay, cleverly it is. Then I'll say that we pulled this stunt to prove any man can learn how to jump-start his love life by reading Hanover's book."
"And we'll bring along all those bags full of fan mail to prove it. Testimonial after testimonial about how the book has changed peoples lives for the better."
"Good idea." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure the press will have some tough questions, but we'll field them as vaguely as we can. So far, no one knows about Harry's felonious past. But if that truth ever does come out, at least Handy Press won't be seen as trying to pull a fast one."
She frowned. "That's what I did, isn't it? I tried to rationalize my idea of hiring a gigolo to pretend to be Harry Hanover, but there was really no excuse for that kind of dishonesty."
"You did what you thought was right."
She smiled ruefully at him. "And just look where it got me."
Dexter reached for her hand. "This book tour hasn't been a total disaster. How To Jump-Start Your Love Life is still a hit."
She looked up from their clasped hands to his eyes. "This tour hasn't been at all what I expected. But then, neither have you."
Blood pounded in his veins. "What did you expect?"
She gave a small shrug of her shoulders. "All my preconceived notion
s about a gigolo flew out the door when I met you. I assumed I'd be hiring a cocky, swaggering egomaniac. Instead I found someone who was kind. Handsome. Generous. A little bit shy."
"Disappointed?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
She slowly shook her head. "Just the opposite."
The waitress approached with the check, breaking the moment between them. Kylie signed it, then hastily got up from her chair. "It's late and we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow."
Dexter wasn't ready to say good night, but Kylie was already more tense than he'd ever seen her. It wouldn't be fair to pressure her at a time like this.
He stood up. "I'm going to hit the exercise room and work off a little of this … adrenaline. Do you want me to walk you up to your room?"
She shook her head. "No, I'll be fine. I'll see you in the morning, Harry."
He watched her leave the bistro, wishing that just once she'd call him by his real name.
Wishing the exercise room could cure what really ailed him.
Two hours later, Kylie stood in front of the connecting door leading to Dexter's hotel room. She'd heard the sounds of his footsteps earlier, so knew he was still awake even though it was close to midnight. She just hoped her reason for bothering him didn't seem too transparent.
She reached up and knocked on the door before she had time to chicken out. Time to remember that she'd vowed to let Dexter make the first move. Once again, Kylie was following her heart instead of her head.
The door opened and Dexter stood on the other side. He'd obviously just gotten out of the shower, judging by his wet hair and the towel wrapped around his lower body. He took more showers than any man she knew. And just like before when she'd seen him clad in only a skimpy towel, her mouth went completely dry and her head began to buzz. He was magnificent.
"Hello," he said, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
She swallowed hard. "I know it's late. I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Not at all. I couldn't sleep."
"Me either." She shoved the piece of paper in her hand toward him. "I've been working on the statement, I mean, the surprise announcement for the press. We want it to sound as polished as possible."
He took the paper from her. "Good idea. Come on in and we can rehearse it."
She followed him into his room, her legs feeling shaky. This was the craziest, most impulsive thing she'd ever done in her life. She hadn't knocked on Dexter's door because she'd wanted to rehearse his announcement.
She'd done it because she wanted him.
Kylie knew he was a gigolo. Knew she might never see him again after tomorrow. But she was tired of fighting her feelings. Despite her dismal history with men, she intuitively knew she'd regret it forever if she let Dexter slip out of her life without taking this chance.
He sat down on the bed and unfolded the sheet of notebook paper. Then he looked up at her. "It's blank."
She took a step toward him. "I know."
The paper fell out of his hand and fluttered to the floor as she moved closer. She could hear his quick intake of breath. She walked right up to him, then leaned forward, planting both hands on the bed, one on either side of his thighs. Her face was only a few inches from his own. The warmth emanating from his body made her heart race in her chest. She'd never done anything like this before. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice sounding a little strained.
"Establishing dominance." She leaned closer to him, aware of the desire that flared in his eyes. "Is it working?"
"Yes."
"Good. Because that aftershave you're wearing is driving me crazy. I think about you all the time. I want you all the time."
He swallowed. "Me … or Harry?"
"You," she said, leaning closer. "Definitely you."
His gray eyes flashed. "Then say it."
She licked her lips as her gaze fell to his mouth. "Say what?"
"My name." He moved his head to hers, his mouth a hairsbreadth from her own. "Say my name."
"Dexter," she whispered huskily. "Kiss me, Dexter."
He didn't wait for her to ask twice, clasping her in his arms and hauling her against his hard body for a soul-searing kiss. His damp skin was warm beneath her fingertips and she kneaded his broad shoulders, drawing a low moan from deep in his throat.
At last he pulled back. "Are you sure about this? About us?"
She shook her head. "I'm not sure about anything anymore, Dexter. All I know is that I want you. If you want me."
He closed his eyes and groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "I want you so bad I think I'm going to explode."
She giggled. "Not yet."
Then he lifted his head and kissed her again, both of them tumbling back onto the bed. She'd wanted him for so long that all rational thought fled. All she could do was touch and taste and feel. Her hands were everywhere. So were his. It only took a moment for his towel hit the floor, and soon after so did her clothes.
He kissed the length of her body. Fervently. Reverently. She knew he probably had hordes of women in his past, but at this moment she felt like the only one in the world. The right one. Then his kisses became hotter, his caresses more intimate. She arched against his hand, wanting more. Wanting this moment between them never to end.
Dexter hovered over her, tenderly kissing her lips as his hands swept lightly across the tips of her breasts, then over her hips.
She sucked in her breath when his fingers began explore her most intimate places. "You don't know what you do to me, Dexter."
"Tell me," he said huskily.
So she did. Whispering her every desire in his ear. He fulfilled them all. And then some. Kylie closed her eyes as he worshipped her breasts with his mouth. His hands never stopped touching her, caressing her with the most exquisite tenderness. Dexter carried her higher, farther, and faster than she'd ever imagined possible.
"Wait for me," he said, fumbling for a condom in the nightstand. Then he was with her again. Inside of her. Part of her. She wrapped her arms around him, both of them soaring beyond thought and reason.
"I love you, Kylie," he whispered in her ear as he rocked against her.
"Dexter," she cried out, as her world exploded into a million bursts of light. Then the free fall began and she closed her eyes, lost in the pulsing, swirling ecstasy of the moment.
He collapsed against her, his breathed ragged. She held his body firmly to her, savoring the weight of him and way they fit so perfectly together. No matter what had happened before and what might happen in the future, he was hers in this moment. She lifted her head far enough to place a gentle kiss on his jaw, then whispered the words burning in her throat. "My Dexter. My love."
* * *
14
« ^ »
The next morning, Dexter lay in bed with his arms wrapped around Kylie's warm, supple body. The first rays of the sun were just beginning to peek through the window drapes. They'd made love all through the night, but he felt more exhilarated than exhausted.
A light tapping sounded on the hotel room door. Dexter carefully extricated himself from Kylie's embrace, then slipped on his terrycloth robe and padded quietly to the door. He'd ordered room service a half hour ago, certain Kylie would be as famished as he was when she woke up.
He opened the door and picked up the tray off the floor, savoring the aroma of fresh-baked rolls wafting up from the covered platter. Carrying the tray back into the room, he glanced at Kylie and smiled. She hadn't moved a muscle, still fast asleep. Just the sight of her bare shoulders peeking over the white cotton sheet made his blood heat in his veins. She was the most incredible woman he'd ever met. Both in bed and out of bed.
Dexter quietly set the tray on the table, deciding breakfast could wait since he had in mind a more appetizing way in mind to wake Kylie. But a small envelope tucked in the top corner of the tray caught his attention. His name was neatly typed on the front of the enve
lope. Not Harry Hanover, the name he'd used to register at the hotel, but his real name—Dexter D. Kane.
Frowning, he picked up the envelope and broke the seal, drawing out the small card inside. It was a game card, exactly the same design as the ones used in the Chameleon board game. And this one had specific instructions on it. Instructions he must follow if he wanted to win the game.
Go to the ferris wheel at Lakemont Park at exactly 9 a.m. Look for an operative wearing a blue coat and ask this question: What's the secret of winning the game?
The instructions on the game card made no sense, which wasn't exactly a surprise since his eccentric grandfather was involved. This must be one of the "surprises" Amos had mentioned. Dexter just hoped the answer to the question didn't involve more running around. His plan to spend the morning in bed with Kylie evaporated, although the urge to toss the game card into the trash was almost overwhelming. But he knew he couldn't ignore the summons. Not when his lifelong dream was at stake.
"Damn," Dexter muttered under his breath, glancing from the game card to Kylie. He barely had enough time to dress and make it to the park in time.
He threw on his clothes, choosing the gray flannel suit he'd worn his first day on the job at Studs-R-Us rather than his Harry Hanover outfit. The errand would be completed much more quickly if no one recognized him. He slipped on his glasses, then paused long enough to scribble a quick note to Kylie, promising to be back soon. They'd have a few hours to spend together before the book signing this afternoon. Perhaps by then he'd have figured out some way to explain his brief disappearing act. He couldn't tell her the truth yet. Not while he was still playing the game.
He laid the note on his pillow, struck again by her wholesome beauty. But he resisted the urge to lean down and kiss her. She'd been exhausted these last few days and needed to sleep. Besides, if Dexter had his way, he'd be able to spend the rest of his life kissing her.
But first things first.
Kylie wrapped her arms around the pillow, sighing into the plump softness as she slowly awoke. Her body felt exquisitely relaxed under the warmth of the bedcovers and thoroughly rested for the first time in weeks.
OPERATION BABE-MAGNET / OPERATION BEAUTY Page 11