His Little Black Book

by Heather MacAllister

“Sophie, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” But he looked tempted.

  “It’s an excellent idea, even without charcoal. Your failure to recognize a good idea is yet another example of brain malfunction caused by lack of food.” She opened the fridge and withdrew a butcher paper-wrapped bundle. The others could cook for themselves when they arrived. It wasn’t as though Jonathan was going to grill outdoors tonight and Sophie was hungry.

  She continued to stare into the fridge. No veggies, just condiments of an indeterminate age and the breakfast food she’d brought. “Adrian? Would you check in the living room cabinets to see if you can find any wine? There’s bound to be some around here.” Peering at him from behind the fridge door she asked, “Or do you drink?”

  He still stood in the same spot. “Occasionally.”

  Well, that was a relief because Sophie really, really wanted a glass of wine and she really, really didn’t want to drink if the client didn’t.

  Adrian stared at her, obviously not completely convinced to stay. Sophie threw him a bright smile and ducked behind the door again, fingers crossed.

  Moments later, she heard him open the doors in the cabinets beneath the bookshelves. “You said you prefer red?”

  She exhaled. “Yes, please.”

  When he brought the wine over to the kitchen bar, Sophie handed him a corkscrew and foil cutter and watched him concentrate on opening the bottle. He looked more relaxed now that he wasn’t thinking about costly ad campaigns.

  Sophie seasoned the steaks and preheated the broiler. She hadn’t brought any side dishes because she assumed they’d been assigned to someone else. Adrian had spent the week eating his protein powder which meant the fridge had nothing she could scavenge. Breaking into the breakfast fruit, she sliced a cantaloupe and sprinkled a few blueberries onto the plates as Adrian pulled the cork.

  Sophie set two goblets on the bar and listened to the happy glugging of wine from a full bottle as Adrian poured. “Good choice,” she sighed after taking her first sip. “P&D probably stocked the place for you. I’m glad there are leftovers to tide us over until Jonathan gets here.”

  “About that.” Adrian glanced at his watch. “It’s getting really late.”

  “Just eight o’clock. And he was in a meeting. If you consider the drive from Houston, the traffic and the weather, it’s not late at all.” Sophie took another sip. Adrian was still shirtless and now that he’d dried off enough to lose the shine, he didn’t look so much like plastic man as underwear model man. This part of his body would need no retouching.

  Speaking of touching…Sophie learned something new about herself—male underwear models apparently were her type. Yes, she was as surprised as anybody, but honestly, an abtastic torso in three dimensions was so much better than a two-dimensional photo. Intellectually, she’d known that. But when faced with Adrian in the flesh, flesh that was standing less than three feet away…zowie. She’d had no idea she was so visual. Adrian hit all the primal female programming: find strong mate. Have strong babies.

  The urge to walk around the bar and run her hands all over his torso was so powerful her fingertips actually tingled. She wanted to feel muscles flexing beneath warm, male flesh. She’d been pressed up against that torso. Why, oh, why hadn’t she savored the moment? She needed another moment. Moments. Lots and lots of moments.

  Sophie tightened her tingling fingers around her wineglass and drank a heck of a lot more than a sip. Keeping things strictly professional was going to be difficult.

  To cover up the amount of time she’d been staring, she said, “I can see all your muscles outlined. You could be show-and-tell for an anatomy class.”

  In the process of setting her wine on the counter, Sophie became aware that Adrian just stood there, holding his glass. One might say he was posing. Her gaze flicked up to his face. One would be right. Sophie caught the tiny curve of his lips. Not quite a smile, but enough to tell her that having women admire his body was familiar territory to him. He expected it. He’d noticed her scrutiny. And he’d enjoyed it.

  Okay, so she’d admired him. She was human. She was female. What was he waiting for—applause? “I’m starting the steaks. If you’re planning to stay, now would be a good time to get a dry shirt out of your car. I hear the wind starting to gust again.”

  As she turned away, Sophie saw a puzzled surprise cross his face. Yeah, that’s right. Go put on a shirt, bud. She wasn’t going to allow a nice manly body to distract her from the mission. And no, she reminded herself firmly, the nice manly body was not the mission. Business was the mission.

  Sophie slipped the steaks under the broiler as she heard the glass doors slide open and closed. Then she dug through her suitcase until she found the sarong she’d planned to use as a cover-up tomorrow. Too bad. She needed it now. The more clothes between her and Mr. Universe, the better.

  Speaking of, Adrian pulled open the door just as Sophie flipped the steaks. He’d been out there awhile.

  “Is your cell getting a signal?” he asked. “I wanted to make a call, but couldn’t find a good spot.”

  “It was earlier.” Sophie dug in her purse and flipped her phone open. “No service for me, either. But that’s not surprising. We’re on the fringes out here.” No messages had come through from Jonathan. But how long had she been out of the cell-service area?

  “The wind has really picked up,” Adrian commented.

  “I hear it,” Sophie said. Carefully avoiding looking at him, she went back into the kitchen. “I’m going to light candles in case the power goes out.” Because she sure didn’t want him to think she was making a romantic dinner. She was feeding him so he could think about the ad campaign.

  “Good idea.” He carried a bag into the master bedroom. It was probably where he’d been sleeping. There was an entire second floor with another living area and a wraparound balcony and kitchenette. Lots more bedrooms, so no weird awkwardness about sleeping arrangements when everybody else got here.

  Sophie straightened up the kitchen and was hanging their wet clothes in the laundry when she heard Adrian call.

  “Sophie?”

  She came out only to find him still shirtless. Think goals. Think long-term career goals.

  “Would you take my picture before I eat?” He handed her a digital camera.

  She gave him a look before examining the camera.

  “No, I am not a narcissist. I’ve been following my own program for three weeks. I intended to give it a month, but twenty-one days will be enough. I have before pictures—”

  “Tell me they’re not the ones I’m seeing in the camera.” She clicked through them.

  “Well, yeah.”

  “Your before pictures are other people’s fantasy pictures.”

  He smiled briefly. “You see this muscle definition?”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Seriously. After I eat that steak and have a glass of wine or two, you won’t see it. My body will retain water and soften the definition.”

  “Are you saying you’ll bloat? Because I know bloat and there’s no way. No. Way.”

  He laughed and she realized it was the first time she’d heard him do so. “It’s a body-builder thing.”

  “I thought you were targeting the home market. Regular people, not body builders.”

  “I am. I’m adapting some of the body builders’ strategies for everyday fitness.”

  “Everyday Fitness.” Sophie stared off into the middle distance. “That sounds pretty good, actually. Except, I’m sorry, but on what planet is drinking powdered gunk considered practical for normal people?”

  He gave her a sheepish and unexpectedly appealing grin. “I’m rethinking that. The steaks smell great.”

  Steaks? Oh. Right. “So you want pictures before you break your diet.”

  “Yes. I can always market it as an anti-bloat diet. You can be one of my testers.”

  His grin no longer appealed. “Why thank you. You’re too kind.”

  Adrian caught
the tone in her voice. “You’re the one who brought up bloating issues.”

  Sophie narrowed her eyes. “No…I think that was you.”

  “C’mon, Sophie, you’re a beautiful woman.”

  He said she was beautiful and he said it as though it was an obvious fact. She liked that. Liked it a lot. Liked in a way that twanged her heartstrings.

  Unfortunately, he continued. “With some exerci—”

  “Stop.” She held up a hand. “‘Sophie, you’re a beautiful woman.’ And stop.”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Stop.”

  “What I meant—”

  “Stop.”

  Adrian sucked his breath through his teeth. “I can’t figure out what you think I’m going to say that’s so wrong.”

  Sophie leveled a look at him. “That’s because you haven’t been eating properly. Now be quiet and pose.”

  After adjusting the lighting, such as it was, they cleared space so Adrian could stand in front of a blank wall. Sophie took pictures of Adrian inhaling. Adrian flexing. Adrian from the side. Adrian’s back. He even had a great back. And the little stretchy pair of trunks he wore showed off buns of steel.

  So he had a great body. Was that all she could think about?

  “How’s the light? Can you see the muscle definition okay?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Sophie wiped her hands against the wrap she wore and propped her elbows on the back of the sofa to steady the camera.

  A few seconds later, the timer for the steaks dinged. Thank goodness because staring at Adrian was making her hands sweat and shake. She hoped the pictures wouldn’t be blurry.

  Adrian walked toward her in his little stretchy trunks. Sophie saw him in slow motion. Thigh muscles bunched and released. His torso swiveled gently. Swaying arms emphasized defined shoulders.

  And all she could do was stand there, unblinking, and try not to drool. Forget hiding her response to him. The best strategy was to acknowledge that she, like most women, appreciated a good-looking male, treat it as a natural reaction, but not take it any further.

  Deep inside her something whimpered, but she slapped it into silence. Still, she came close to dropping the camera as she handed it back to him.

  Adrian smiled down at her as he took the camera from her damp, shaky fingers. “Sophie?”

  “Hmm?”

  He waited until she met his eyes. A few beats passed before his gaze slowly drifted to her mouth, around the contours of her face, paused at her mouth again, and returned to her eyes.

  “You’re a beautiful woman.” And he stopped.

  4

  AND HOW HAD SOPHIE Responded to his deliberate, unmistakable, provocative, I-find-you-incredibly-attractive, unignorable look? Which, incidentally, had been in response to her I-want-you-so-bad-I-can-barely-control-myself zombie stare?

  By ignoring it. He’d told her she was beautiful and stopped just the way she’d wanted him to. Instead of melting into his arms, she’d squeaked out a thank-you, and then served him his first steak in three years.

  “Blueberries are full of antioxidants,” she told him when he’d stared at his plate for several long moments.

  “I know.” And in a minute, he’d eat one.

  “Is your meat too rare?” As she spoke, Sophie cut into hers and red juices ran onto the white plate.

  “No, it’s fine.” He swallowed to ease the tightness in his throat. “It smells great.” And it did in a fatty, salty way.

  The thing was, he did not know how his stomach was going to react to regular food after twenty-one days. And if it did not react well, he would rather Sophie didn’t have that image in her head. Such images weren’t conducive to romantic overtures, should he want to make another one. And he was considering it. She liked the way he looked. Until her trancelike stare as he’d walked toward her a few minutes ago, he hadn’t been completely sure.

  He liked the way she looked, too, but he also liked her. A lot, actually, for the amount of time he’d known her. The problem was that she had a point about not muddying the professional and personal waters.

  Anyway, according to her, people were supposed to descend upon them at any moment, but it seemed strange that P&D had planned a party and not told him. He was supposed to be gone by now, so it really wasn’t any of his business. Unless Jonathan had planned the party before Adrian decided to leave, but his assistant hadn’t said anything when Adrian had called this afternoon. And now it was what? Almost nine o’clock? Except for clusters of tiny lights on the off-shore drilling rigs, it was solidly black outside. He could hear the wind, a rushing sound punctuated with occasional bumps against the windows. He hoped anyone traveling in this mess arrived safely.

  But in the meantime, there was a plate of food sitting in front of him. Better start with the blueberries. Cautiously, he speared one with his fork and enjoyed the burst of flavor. He ate a few more before he became aware of Sophie watching him.

  She set down her silverware and leaned across the table. “Cut a piece off right there.” She pointed to the steak.

  Adrian hesitated.

  “Go on.”

  So he did. The knife slid through the meat as though it were butter, appropriate because tenderness equaled fat. But he wasn’t going to think about that. He was committed to eating the steak. At least some of it. He opened his mouth.

  “Wait. Smell it.” She demonstrated, inhaling deeply.

  He mimicked her.

  “Now slowly bring the fork to your lips and set it on your tongue. Taste before chewing. Savor.”

  The blueberries had burst, but the steak was a flavor explosion. Adrian tasted salt and smoky bits of the charred edge first, and then the rest of the seasoning she’d used rolled across his tongue. Underneath was the earthy taste of a quality steak. He swallowed and exhaled. Wow.

  “Good?” She smiled a sensual, knowing smile.

  “Great.” What else was great was the way Sophie looked in the candlelight just then. Shadows played across her shoulders and neck and her lips glistened.

  But it was her eyes that drew him in. Intelligence, he liked that. Less so the amusement, since he figured it was directed at him. Interest, certainly, and earlier, awareness which she’d since hidden. So what else was hiding in those deceptively clear blue eyes?

  “The steak’s not bad for sticking it under a broiler.” Straightening, Sophie took a bite of her own steak and closed her eyes as she chewed. “Mmm.”

  She meant “mmm” about the steak, but Adrian felt the vibrations deep in his gut. It had been way too long since he’d heard a woman “mmm.” And when he had, she hadn’t been “mmming” about food.

  He watched Sophie while he ate more steak. She was right. He could feel his brain focusing already. And it was focused on her.

  Sophie opened her eyes and caught him staring at her. She stared back. For a timeless moment, Adrian knew that Sophie was thinking about him in a way that had nothing to do with food. He hoped she realized he was totally fine with that.

  And then—right at the very moment Adrian was ready drop his fork, hold out his hand, draw Sophie to her feet and lead her into the bedroom, professionalism be damned, something blew against the front windows. The rattling thump made her blink and the moment passed.

  “So…I get ‘Lean Machine,’ but where did ‘Green Machine’ come from?” she asked him.

  Adrian didn’t want to discuss exercise equipment. His mind was fueled by good beef and relaxed by wine and very focused right now. Wasting that kind of focus was just not right.

  But Sophie’s eyes had lost that sleepy sexy look, so Adrian forced himself to answer her question. “The machine is earth-friendly since it’s a home-based exercise system. People don’t drive to a gym so no car emissions pollute the air. Less of a carbon footprint.”

  “Piggybacking on the whole going green thing.” She nodded thoughtfully. “But the name doesn’t say anything about what your product is. Green Machine—what’s that? Lawn care? A college footb
all team? I don’t think of fitness equipment when I hear ‘Green Machine.’”

  Adrian didn’t, either, but the ad guys were professionals. They knew marketing. “The thinking was that I could use the color in the branding. It rhymes with Dean.”

  Sophie made a face. “You don’t need a color. You’re the brand. You’re the Dean of Lean.”

  “Hey, that’s pretty good.”

  “I think so.” She grinned. “Tell me about the other ad pitch.”

  And so he did. Sophie picked it apart while they finished eating and brainstormed with him while they cleaned up.

  “These campaigns sound as though their message is coming from the people who created them and not you. And by message, I’m talking about the one other than the ‘buy me’ message,” she told him.

  Something clicked into place for Adrian. He’d been scrubbing the burned bits off the broiler pan while Sophie dried and put away their plates and he just stopped and stared at her. “My message.”

  “Yeah.” She closed the cabinet door. “The first campaign’s message is ‘be earth-friendly while you exercise’ and the other’s is ‘lose weight so you’ll look good.’”

  “My program isn’t about looking good!” He exhaled in frustration.

  “Ooo, as a message, ‘exercise and deprive yourself and forget about looking good’ isn’t going to fly.”

  “You’re right.” He gave a short laugh and started scrubbing again. “But if it takes selling the ‘we can make you look good’ aspect of my program, then so be it.”

  “Not necessarily.” She leaned against the counter. “What is your message?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Sure you do. Something drew you to health and fitness in the first place. And then you needed something and couldn’t find it, so you developed your own—” she gestured toward the duffel “—exercise thingy. And now…” She gestured toward him.

  “And now what?”

  “And now you tell me what those ‘somethings’ were. How did you get into the exercise business?”

  “I played sports in school and enjoyed learning how to keep my body in peak condition. And later, I wanted to share what I learned with others.”