The Perfect Solution

by Day Leclaire

  “I wonder if her night turned out as interesting as ours.”

  “She doesn’t deserve the sort of night we had,” Jane retorted, her undisguised annoyance amusing him. “I hope her date dropped her at the curb and took off.”

  “Unfortunately, that would negate the results of your sample, wouldn’t it?”

  “I hadn’t thought of that,” she muttered.

  “What happened after she tried the perfume?”

  “She turned the bottle on me.”

  “Why?”

  Jane set her jaw, fumbling once again for her glasses. This time, he let her hide behind them. “She said I needed all the help I could get if I wanted to attract a man. Since I wouldn’t take my hair down or unbutton my dress, she doused me with perfume.”

  “Aw, hell.”

  Ever so gently he eased her into his arms. She didn’t resist. She slipped her hands around his waist and nestled her cheek against his chest. “Don’t be upset,” she ordered his top button. “I wasn’t. She just confirmed what everyone has been saying about me all these years.”

  “That you’re more scientist than woman? You’re not being a scientist now, are you?”

  She shook her head, a tiny ringlet escaping the prison of her hair clip.

  “And you sure as hell weren’t being one last night.”

  A gurgle of laughter slipped free. “If I’m not careful, I’m going to ruin my reputation.”

  “Maybe a little ruining is just what you need.”

  She pulled free of his arms, the vulnerability he’d glimpsed earlier more fully expressed this time. “We need to discuss the security features you’ve installed in the lab. I found Mick in there again.”

  “None of the systems are activated yet. Until they are, locking the door would probably be a good idea.”

  “I did. This time I made sure of it.” She gazed at the whitewashed block building with a frown. “Mick still got in.”

  “Who all has keys?”

  She sighed. “Oh, everybody. Me. The uncles. Mrs. Motts, the cleaning lady. Mick used to, but I took the key back.”

  “And changed the locks?”

  “No,” she admitted. “He returned the key. Why would I—” She winced. “Forget I asked that.”

  “Done.”

  She gave him a direct look. “He wants something, doesn’t he? That’s why he keeps coming back.”

  “I think that’s a safe bet.”

  She started to wrap her arms around her waist, then jammed them into her coat pockets instead. Both actions were telling. “I need you, Flynn.”

  “You need a security expert, is that it? Just a security expert?”

  She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “I haven’t changed that much in the past twenty-four hours. My experiments are important to me. My career is vital. I can’t afford to jeopardize either one.” Her tone held an edge of urgency, the vulnerability he’d seen earlier threading through her voice and catching him off guard. He was used to people who played games. But Jane Dearly wasn’t a game player. “I suspect if I don’t let you finish installing a security system—including for my lab—that’s precisely what will happen.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll make a deal with you.”

  She stared at him, the lenses of her reading glasses magnifying her eyes. If she’d bothered to look in the mirror, she’d have realized they made her appear utterly defenseless, instead of like a serious scientist.

  “A deal,” she repeated. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “So far you haven’t been willing to let us fool with the lab.” He cocked an eyebrow. “I gather that’s changed?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then let me take you to this place I know not far from here. Paulie and I installed the owner’s security system. You can check it out and see if it isn’t what you want.” Maybe he’d even manage to keep his hands off her while he showed her around.

  The ringlet shivered against her temple. “And my experiments? What about those?”

  He folded his arms across his chest. “I’m not sure. What do you suggest?”

  “I still need a human guinea pig for some of my perfume experiments.” A look of pure mischief crossed her face. “For some reason, people around here aren’t too keen on helping out.”

  “Gee. I can’t understand that.”

  She rewarded him with a quick grin. “Considering they’ve been the subjects of various experiments since I was five, I guess I’ve tried their patience a bit.”

  “For the sake of argument, let’s say I agree to continue as your official lab rat.” He held up his hand before she could leap to any assumptions. “I said, for the sake of argument. I haven’t made any promises yet.”

  “Go on,” she prompted impatiently.

  “How do you know my reaction will be a result of the perfume as opposed to my normal reaction to you as a person?”

  Her mouth curved into a wry smile. “I think we’ll know if you’re responding to one of the perfumes rather than to me. But just in case, it’s a double-blind study.”

  “Double-blind?”

  “It’s common practice.” She shoved the glasses on top of her head, knocking loose another curl. “See, the potions are all numbered. Some contain the pheromone solution and others are plain perfumes. I don’t even know which are which.”

  “Seriously? How did you pull that off?”

  “Hickory helped. I filled each bottle and marked it with a secret code that I recorded in my computer. My notes identify which codes match the plain perfumes versus the ones with the pheromone-based solutions. But the labels on the bottles are just an unrelated sequence of letters and numbers. In other words, Hickory can’t tell the difference just by looking at the bottle or at the label.”

  “He doesn’t know your code or whether a particular bottle contains a working pheromone perfume, is that it?”

  “Not unless he deliberately looks it up in my computer. That makes it a blind study. Next, he switched my labels with his, mixing the sequence in the process, and placed his own secret code on each vial. I don’t know his code, any more than he knows mine.”

  “And since you don’t know his code, that makes it a double-blind.”

  “Exactly. After the study is completed, he’ll match his codes with mine and I’ll check the computer to see which studies correspond to the pheromone solutions. If something peculiar occurs with an active sample, I can test it some more.” She slanted him a teasing glance. “For all I know, last night’s perfume might have been just that. Perfume.”

  “Wait a minute. You mean—”

  “You got it.” She grinned. “It might not have been pheromones that prompted our little lust-fest, but sheer, unadulterated lust.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  “DO YOU WANT TO START right in on the next experiment or look over the lab and explain what you installed at this other place?” Jane asked.

  She glanced at Flynn expectantly, surprised to discover he still hadn’t recovered from her observation about last night. If anything, he looked downright furious. A tiny frown formed between her brows. Did he find her so unattractive that he couldn’t imagine feeling lust for her unless it was perfume-induced?

  She assumed her most professional demeanor, the one that caused people in town to give her a wide berth. “Are you coming, Flynn?”

  “Wait a minute.” He caught hold of her arm. “Was last night a result of the perfume or not?”

  “I have no idea. I won’t until we conclude the experiments.”

  “Look it up.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Check your computer and find out.”

  She pulled loose from his hold and planted her hands on her hips, glaring in exasperation. “I already explained this to you. It’s a double-blind study. I can’t just ‘look it up.’”

  “Then give Hickory your codes and have him check.”

  “You know I can’t do that, either.”

  “Why not?”

  “Isn’t
it obvious? It would compromise my experiment.” Her annoyance faded, replaced by concern. “What’s going on, Flynn? I thought you were willing to help with this project. Have you changed your mind?”

  “It’s a responsibility issue.”

  “Responsibility,” she repeated. What in the world...? Comprehension dawned, along with a resurgence of her earlier annoyance. “In other words, if it’s plain, old-fashioned lust, it’s not your fault?”

  “The other way around, sweetheart. If my reaction to you is a result of your pheromone perfumes, then it’s out of my hands. But if it’s lust...” A muscle moved in his jaw. “Then our actions are my responsibility.”

  “I hate to burst your little guilt-bubble, but it doesn’t work that way.” She yanked open the door to the lab complex and marched into the foyer. “Let’s discuss this in my office.”

  “What do you mean it doesn’t work that way?”

  “I mean that if you were an ant or a bee or a moth—” She broke off. “Particularly a silkworm moth. There have been fascinating studies done on them. Did you know a female silkworm moth can signal her mate from a distance of up to—”

  “The point, if you don’t mind?” he interrupted impatiently.

  “Oh, sorry.” She offered a sheepish grin. “I get carried away sometimes.”

  “Gee. I hadn’t noticed.”

  She didn’t believe him for one little minute. Maybe it had something to do with the sarcasm running rampant through his tone. “My point is, if you were a different species, you’d be physically incapable of resisting a pheromone directive. But humans are a bit more complicated than that. We’re multilayered and therefore have the capacity to filter a pheromone prompt through the behavior modifications that society imposes.”

  “In other words, society puts the brakes on the urge to screw our brains out.”

  “Crude, but basically correct.” She dropped into the seat behind her desk. “I guess I’m warning you that pheromones don’t let you off the hook. You’re still responsible for your own behavior. The perfumes might enhance a natural attraction but they’re not going to send you into a frenzy of lust.”

  “Excuse me for pointing this out,” he bit out with a renewed sarcasm that made her wince. “But what do you call our antics on the front lawn last night?”

  Heat rose in her cheeks belying her role as a cool, logical scientist. “Our reaction did get a little out of hand,” she conceded.

  “Our?” He leaned back in his chair and regarded her with a watchful gaze. “Are you telling me that this pheromone works on both of us?”

  It was the same question she’d asked herself this morning and she was forced to give him the same embarrassing answer. “Pheromones affect only the opposite sex of the same species.”

  “And you’re using female pheromones in your perfumes, right?”

  She gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

  “I see.”

  She didn’t want to think about what he saw. She suspected she knew. “Shall we get busy with the parameters for the next round of experim—”

  “One more question.”

  It was a wonder her molars didn’t crack in half. “Fine. What?”

  “How long do these pheromones last?”

  “I can store them in my lab for up to—”

  He waved her silent. “No. That’s not what I’m asking. I mean... Once you put on the perfume, how long do the effects last?”

  “Oh.” She adjusted her glasses. “That’s an interesting question. To be honest, it depends.”

  He stared at her in disbelief. “Are you saying you don’t know?”

  “Not exactly. You see, it depends on their purpose.” She ticked off on her fingers. “In order for pheromones to be effective, they have to be species-specific, so the message is communicated only to those whose behavior it’s intended to influence. It has to be concentrated, so a little goes a long way. And depending on how it’s dispersed—air or water—it’ll be either volatile or stable. Volatile for an aerosol dispersion and stable for—”

  He groaned. “Honey, you’re really cute when you go into professor-mode. It gets me downright excited. But what I’m asking is... How the hell long is that perfume going to drive me crazy?”

  “Are you...” She could scarcely believe it. “Are you still experiencing residual side effects?”

  “I’m hard as a rock. Is that residual enough for you?”

  She blinked. That couldn’t be. “That can’t be.”

  “Want to check?” He started to stand.

  “No, no!” She ripped off her glasses and threw them onto the desk. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He subsided in his seat and managed a mocking grin. “Maybe it’s because you’ve been talking dirty to me. Or maybe it’s those damn glasses. Or the way you keep fiddling with the top button of your lab coat. Or maybe you just smell good enough to eat.”

  “But I showered.”

  “I’m sure there’s a point to that comment,” he stated impatiently. “Right now it escapes me. You want to try again?”

  “I washed off last night’s perfume. You’re—” She cleared her throat and fumbled for her glasses, slipping them on the tip of her nose again. “You’re not under any pheromonal influences. At least, none that I’m aware of.”

  He exploded from his chair. Before she could do much more than emit a tiny shriek, he plucked her out from behind her desk and spread her across the wide wooden surface. Papers scattered in all directions.

  “No pheromones?” he demanded, covering her body with his.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Answer the question.” He wrapped his arms around her. “Do you have a pheromone perfume on?”

  She squirmed. “No!”

  “Great. Then here comes experiment number two.”

  Her glasses were the first to go. She heard them bounce on the rug somewhere to her left. As though unable to resist, Flynn thrust his hand into her hair, loosening the curls. Ringlets floated free in a silken halo across her blotter. Next, he sent the clip flying after her glasses. She closed her eyes and waited breathlessly for him to strip her naked and have his wicked way with her. When nothing happened, she peeked at him from beneath her lashes. He regarded her with open amusement, a sexy grin spread across his equally sexy mouth.

  “You have a curly hair fixation, don’t you?” she asked, desperate to break the nerve-racking tension.

  “Only your curly hair.”

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “I don’t mean to complain, but there’s a pen stabbing me in the back.”

  He rolled her slightly to one side and yanked the ballpoint free. “Any more complaints, observations or comments before we get down to business?”

  “Just one.” She tried to read his expression, but without her glasses and with his face so close to hers, his features were a pleasant, if enigmatic blur. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Don’t you know?”

  She shook her head. “Is it because you’re still angry about the perfume?”

  “Do I look angry? Feel angry?”

  “You look and feel...” Oh, dear. He was hard as a rock. How...impressive. “Lusty.”

  “Good call.”

  “Then, if it’s not too naive a question, what are we doing on my desk?”

  “I’m making a comparison.”

  “Between last night and now?”

  “You really are one smart woman. Now, shut up and get to work.”

  A gurgle of laughter escaped. “Work?”

  “Yeah. Work.”

  She couldn’t resist running a finger along his jawline. His eyes darkened, the gold burnished with a hunger that made her want to pick up where they’d left off last time. “Kissing you is work?”

  “Hard work. Now, get busy so we have another basis for comparison.”

  Her laughter died. This morning she’d awoken with the knowledge that she’d fallen in lust with this man. Even though she’d been distressed by that fa
ct, she’d been able to deal with it because it was a temporary, if inconvenient sexual reaction. Understandable, given her background and experience. She might not like it. Still, she was realistic enough to accept that reason didn’t always play a part in sexual attraction, no matter how much she might want it otherwise.

  But somehow those feelings had undergone a radical change. They’d grown, become something deeper and more substantial. She didn’t understand it. Not even a little. It didn’t make the least sense, especially given the brevity of their association. Nevertheless, she was forced to concede the truth.

  When Flynn left, she’d be devastated.

  He rested above her, waiting for her to make the next move. A slight smile tilted his mouth, and he regarded her with a mixture of passion and amusement. “Having second thoughts?” he asked, reading her with frightening ease.

  “Yes.”

  She shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be feeling like this. Scientists were supposed to keep their emotions separate from their work, maintain a barrier between the two so their experiments didn’t become tainted by the subjective.

  Slowly, she reached up and pushed a strand of dark, wavy hair from Flynn’s brow. It was already too late. She was as tainted as they came. And right now she didn’t give a damn.

  “It was the perfume,” she said, trying to convince him. Trying to convince herself. “What happened last night was a chemical reaction. A response to an irresistible pheromonal influence.”

  “Prove it. Put your mouth where your money is.”

  “You want proof? Okay.” She lifted upward and brushed her lips against his. Softly. Lightly. No more than a whisper of a touch. She tried for a careless smile. “See? Nothing.”

  “Again.”

  Damn. She lifted upward once more. Her mouth closed on his this time, lingering, sliding along the full width in a gentle exploration. She half expected him to assume control, to become the aggressor. Heck, she hoped he would, taking the decision out of her hands. But he didn’t and she relaxed back against the desk. What further proof did he need than that? If he’d lusted after her because he’d found her irresistible as a person, he’d have responded by now. His resistance simply proved the success of her perfumes.