The Perfect Solution

by Day Leclaire

  “And our outings? What have they been?”

  She swallowed. Hard. “Opportunities to observe you in a natural setting.”

  “Got it.”

  He rolled her over in the grass and carefully worked an ant free from her hair, returning it to its designated path. “Why did you do that?” she whispered. “You could have simply crushed it.”

  Sadness dimmed his golden eyes. “I’ve learned to take care of fragile creatures. To protect them, particularly from myself.”

  “Oh. A protector. I like that.” She gazed up at him uncertainly. “Are you mad at me for observing you?”

  A shadow of his easy grin tilted his mouth. “Don’t be ridiculous. We both agreed to a business relationship. I install a security system. You use me as a test subject.” He flicked the tip of her nose. I’ll tell you what. I was going to ask you out to dinner tonight, anyway. Why don’t you bring along those questions so we keep this on a business footing. Maybe we can figure out what your last batch of testees objected to.”

  “You’d be willing to do that?”

  His smile faded. “For you? Anything.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHECKING HER WATCH, Jane realized she only had five minutes to finish getting ready for Flynn. She didn’t understand her nervousness. This was a simple experiment, no more, she assured herself for the twentieth time. She’d understand if this were an actual date. But it wasn’t. In fact, the very last thing she wanted was another romantic relationship. Still, that didn’t stop her from fingering the perfume bottle in her pocket, the one she’d created from her ninth formula. She frowned, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. She’d had twelve formulations to choose from. But had she gone with the next in line, LP-2? No, she’d gone straight for the cliché. LP-9, Love Potion number nine.

  On the other hand, she’d done her best to ensure she didn’t inadvertently taint the results. Despite knowing how much it exasperated Flynn, she’d slicked back her hair and fastened it in a knot at the nape of her neck and dressed in her plainest outfit. The simple gray dress would have done her grandmother proud—if she had a grandmother. Only a white Peter Pan collar and tiny pearl buttons from neck to hem relieved the ocean of gray that engulfed her.

  A deep barking warned of Flynn’s approach and a moment later the doorbell rang. Snatching up the atomizer of perfume, she dropped it into her purse along with her notebook and glasses. Shoving her feet into a pair of heels, she reached automatically for her lab coat, before catching herself. It was a telling moment, one she instinctively shied from, refusing to admit how important that one garment had become to her persona. Fortunately, she didn’t have long to dwell on it. The doorbell rang again and the dog barked his way up the steps to help pressure her to greater speed.

  Darting downstairs, she restrained Dipstick and pulled open the door. Of course, restraining a two-hundred-pound dog proved something of a challenge, particularly when he seemed determined to share his affections with most humans—with only a few notable exceptions. After gifting Jane with doggy kisses on every inch of exposed skin, he jumped up on Flynn and greeted him with a tongue to the cheek. Her nondate took the proffered affection with surprising equanimity.

  As soon as the dog calmed, he shot Jane a look that made her want to go collect her lab coat again and button it all the way to her chin. “Ready?” he asked.

  With a final, reluctant glance toward the steps leading to her bedroom, she nodded. “Sure. Let’s go.”

  They left the house and followed the walkway to his rental car. “So where are we going?” she asked.

  “I made reservations at a Greek restaurant overlooking the bay.”

  “Niko’s?”

  “That’s the one. Hickory recommended it.”

  She couldn’t remember ever having eaten there before. She definitely hadn’t been with Mick, so she wouldn’t have those memories to color her evening with Flynn. Not that she’d have permitted that to happen. She had better control of her emotions than to allow such a thing.

  Niko’s occupied one end of the shops lining the pier of Salmon Bay and offered a stunning view of the water and distant mountains. Jane particularly liked how they’d decorated the interior, or rather, the lack of decorations. The sheer simplicity of the restaurant made her breathe easier. Floor-to-ceiling windows took up three of the four sides of the two-story building. What walls there were had received a coating of fresh, crisp white paint. The golden oak floor blended nicely with the clear juniper they’d used for the trim work and ceiling beams. And each table had been spaced to afford an element of privacy.

  The waitress escorted them upstairs, offering prime seats along the balcony railing. “A drink before you order?” she asked.

  Flynn tilted his head to one side. “Sure, now that you mention it. How about some champagne?”

  “Champagne?” Jane repeated. “Whatever for?”

  He shrugged. “I saw your uncles drinking it. We can toast the success of your current experiment.”

  “Experiment?” The waitress jerked back, regarding Jane warily. “You’re not that loony scientist, are you?”

  “She’s a scientist, though hardly loony,” Flynn said with a smile. Working his charm, Jane thought in amusement. One flash of white teeth set in a ruggedly handsome face and the waitress instantly relaxed. “Don’t worry—” he read her name tag “—Kelly. I’m today’s lab rat.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t call yourself that,” Jane murmured. Needing to find something to occupy her hands, she snapped open her purse and dug through it for her notebook and glasses.

  “You’re already wearing them,” he pointed out.

  She lifted a hand to the bridge of her nose. “Oh. How silly.”

  “You’re feeling self-conscious, aren’t you?”

  “Maybe a little.”

  He nodded toward her notebook. “I assume that has something to do with work?”

  “You said we could review my survey.” She glanced at him hesitantly. “I have the questions jotted down in the notebook.”

  “You want to go over them? Decide which ones work and which don’t?”

  Was that irony? She couldn’t be certain. She’d never been terribly good with subtlety or reading between the lines. “We agreed to stick to business, remember?” she informed him, just in case.

  Flynn reached out and ran the tip of his index finger along the edge of her hand. “Then business it is.”

  Flame followed the simple caress, along with an utter unraveling of every muscle in her body. She’d never felt so...fluid. She stilled, afraid that if she moved so much as an inch, she’d slide under the table in a melted pool of feminine longing. What the hell was this? Flynn had touched her plenty of times before. And though each time had affected her, it had never been this dramatic.

  Suddenly the room felt confined, like a tightly barred cage. As a test case, Flynn left a lot to be desired. He was opinionated, uncooperative and far too attractive. Somehow he managed to interfere with her thought processes, flustering her in ways no man ever had before. If she didn’t regain control and fast, using Flynn as a test case would be a total waste. Her logic and reasoning could be called into question due to a personal bias and this particular experiment would have to be scrapped. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Still... Her gaze ate him up. He was just so darned irresistible. In an effort to hide her reaction, Jane fixed her full attention on her notebook.

  “You’re hiding,” Flynn murmured, just as the waitress returned with their champagne. “I wonder why?”

  “You ready to order?” Kelly asked, flipping open her order pad.

  Jane’s nose remained buried in business. “I’m not choosy. I’ll have today’s special.”

  Flynn sighed. “For an appetizer we’ll have the tzatziki.”

  Kelly offered a pleased smile. “You picked my favorite. Do you want a salad with that?”

  “The horiatiki. We’ll split a large.” He pried the notebook from Jane’s hand, forcing
her to focus on the conversation. “Do you have any shellfish allergies?”

  “No.”

  “Do you like shrimp?”

  “Love it.”

  “Shrimp mikrolimano for Jane and I’ll have the exohicko.”

  Kelly nodded. “Great choice. Our chef makes an outstanding sauce for the lamb. I’ll have your appetizer up in a few minutes.”

  “No hurry,” Jane assured her, holding out her hand for the notebook.

  Flynn inclined his head. “None at all.” He opened the booklet and flipped through the pages, lifting an eyebrow as he scanned her questions. “These are what you ask on your survey?”

  “Yes.” Her pen began an urgent tattoo. Realizing it betrayed her nervousness, she put it down. Instead, she played with her glasses, before dropping them with a groan. Yeah, that covered up her agitation much better. “The questions provide an informational baseline from which to proceed.”

  “Proceed? Proceed with what? Just what the hell are you cooking up in that lab? If you want my opinion, this information is none of your business.”

  She deliberately didn’t answer his first slew of questions. “That information is necessary within the confines of my survey.”

  “Your survey, huh?” He gave her a pointed look. “The same one that scared off all your previous test subjects?”

  “Yes, that one. If you’ll recall, we were going to discuss that this evening. You were going to help me with my survey and how not to scare off the people I want to study.”

  “Oh, I remember. I’m the lab rat, you’re the scientist.” His gaze speared her. “I’d almost managed to forget our duly appointed roles this past week.”

  “That’s at least the third time you’ve described yourself in those terms.” A frown pulled her brows together. “Is that how you see yourself? As a lab rat?”

  This time there was no mistaking his annoyance. “Aren’t I?”

  He straightened as he spoke, marking his presence with unmistakable male aggression. Here was a man unlike any she’d ever known, she realized uneasily. She sensed a power and authority that had been lacking in Mick, a strength equal to Hickory’s but with a sensuous edge. He embodied the most potent of masculine traits, as well as the most annoying, and the sum total created a peculiar reaction, an imbalance she couldn’t begin to understand.

  “You’re not a lab rat.” She strove to sound brisk, but suspected the uneasy manner in which the words escaped gave her away.

  He leaned close enough that without her glasses his features blurred, abating the hard edge in all but his voice. “Then stop treating me like one. I’m a man, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I noticed. Can’t you tell how much I’ve noticed?” She snatched up her glasses and dumped them on top of her head. “You said this would be a business dinner, remember? You were going to tell me which question worked and which didn’t. So, why are you so annoyed?”

  “That was before I knew the nature of your business and how intimate the subject matter,” he shot right back. “I’m not going to sit here and discuss sexually provocative questions without knowing the reason. Now, would you care to explain what’s going on?”

  “I can’t. It would taint the results.”

  “Either we do this my way or I walk.” Flynn could see the word walk trembling on Jane’s lips, knew that in another second she’d tell him to get lost, even though she’d kick herself afterward. Before she could, he fired off one final comment. “I’m sure you can get someone from town who’s willing to cooperate with your survey.”

  Fumbling in her purse, she pulled out another set of glasses, apparently forgetting about the orange ones she’d stuck in her hair. She shoved the new ones on her uppity little nose and glared at him, her annoyance tough to take seriously when surrounded by oversize neon blue frames encrusted with iridescent sparkles. “You’re not being fair.”

  “Tough. You want to keep this business? Fine. Explain to me how these questions relate to business.”

  “Excuse the interruption,” Kelly said, setting a platter between them. “One tzatziki, two plates and some pita bread.”

  “That looks good.” Jane seized on the opening with transparent relief. “What is it?”

  “Yogurt with crushed garlic and grated cucumbers,” Flynn explained. “Try it. It has a bit of a bite. But then, that’s how I like most things in life.”

  Her mouth eased into a reluctant smile. “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question,” he prompted. “What’s this study about?”

  “Flynn, if I answered that question, I couldn’t use you as a test subject. Do you want me to scrap my research to date simply to satisfy your curiosity?”

  “No. That wouldn’t be fair.” He regarded her through narrowed eyes. “I’ll tell you what. Will you explain it once you’ve finished with your experiment?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Fair enough. You want my opinion on these questions. Let’s see what we have.” Flynn leaned back in the chair and thrust his long legs out in front of him, thumbing through her notebook. “What sort of woman attracts you? Now, that’s a legitimate question and easy enough to answer. All women attract me. You can keep that question. I can’t see anyone objecting to it.”

  “Wait a minute. Time out.” She studied him over the rim of her champagne flute. “Come on, Flynn. You don’t expect me to buy your answer, do you?”

  “Why not?” he asked pleasantly.

  “Because every man I’ve ever met has a preference, whether he admits it or not. Some are attracted more to a woman who’s short. Or tall. Or thin. Or voluptuous. Or young. Or blond. Or brunette.”

  “You’re right. I’ll take any of the above.”

  “You really don’t care?”

  “I don’t care what she looks like. But I’ll admit there are a few qualities that are essential.”

  “I thought so.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Like what?”

  “She needs to be intelligent. She should have a lively sense of curiosity and an even livelier sense of humor. It’s also a good sign if she feels passionate about something.”

  “Passionate about something.” She stared blankly. “I don’t understand.”

  Now, why didn’t that surprise him? Flynn slouched farther back in his chair and sipped his champagne. “I mean, that feeling passionate about something—anything—gives a person a zest for life. They’re fuller, richer, more exciting to be around. You’re passionate, for instance.”

  “I am?”

  “Sure. You’re passionate about your science.”

  “I...I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

  “What about you? What attracts you to a man?”

  To his surprise, she gave it serious consideration. Was she actually going to answer his questions? Amazing. “I’d have to say most of the qualities you’ve mentioned,” she said at length. “Not that I’ve found anyone like that yet.”

  He couldn’t resist probing. “What? No special scientist types in your sordid past?”

  He wasn’t surprised when she winced. “No. Not any longer.”

  “I gather that wasn’t always the case?” For some reason, his question came out very gently. Encouraging. Downright sincere. Maybe those sparkle glasses had affected him more than he’d realized. Or maybe he simply knew what an asshole Barstow was and sympathized with what she must have gone through.

  “No,” she admitted. “It wasn’t.”

  “And...?”

  She retreated, drawing visibly inward. Wariness made her look less like the brisk scientist and more like the woman hiding beneath the lab coat. Even though she hadn’t worn it to dinner, it cloaked her as surely as if she had. “And I learned to keep business separate from pleasure,” she replied lightly.

  “Even when you’re attracted to business?”

  “Yes. Even then.” She plucked her notebook from his hands and looked up the next question. “We’ve established what attra
cts you in a woman. What qualities are off-putting? That’s a safe-enough question for the survey, isn’t it?”

  “Absolutely. And I’ll even answer it. I can’t stand a woman who either can’t make up her mind or who changes it more often than the weather. I prefer someone who knows what she wants and goes after it.”

  “Anything else?”

  He hesitated and then opened a door, one he didn’t open very often. “Just one more thing.”

  She put down her pen and really, truly looked at him. He hoped she finally saw the man instead of the test subject. “Do you want to tell me what it is?” she asked cautiously.

  “I can’t stand being manipulated or controlled. It...” Tension sliced deep crags into his face. “It used to happen a lot when I was a kid.”

  “Which made you feel powerless?”

  “You got it. What about you?” he asked. “What sort of qualities in a man turn you off?”

  “Dishonesty. I despise dishonest people.”

  Her reply had come so fast and with such an undercurrent of emotion, Flynn immediately thought of Barstow. It also confirmed what he already knew. She’d be furious when she discovered all he’d kept from her—and all her uncles had neglected to mention. The reasons wouldn’t matter, only the fact that she’d been lied to. Again.

  Hell. This was the precise sort of situation he’d sworn to avoid from now on. How many times did he have to repeat a mistake before he learned his lesson? He’d already screwed up more times than he could count, mainly due to poor choices. He’d sworn that would change. And it had...right up until three crazy old coots roped him into their conspiracy. Of course he had a choice.

  He could tell Jane the truth.

  Flynn swallowed more champagne and leaned forward. “Jane—”

  “Next. How many dates before you sleep with a woman for the first time?”

  What a thing to ask a man. He closed his eyes, unable to confess his own particular sins in the face of such an outrageous question. A husky laugh escaped as he gave up trying to be noble. To hell with it. He’d just discuss Jane’s survey and hope for the best. “I don’t suppose you’d care to find out through personal experience?”