Cover Story

by Rachel Bailey

  “I’ll check with Mom to see if she’s okay to look after Anna, but I’m pretty sure I can make it.” His voice was deep and reverberating, and made me warm all over. Which, of course, cranked up my panic another notch.

  Unhappy as I was with the power he had over me, I would not shirk a challenge. Even if I’d set it myself.

  Seduce him.

  “Ah … how about seven o’clock then?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  I hung up and almost fainted from panic. Or excitement. Or both.

  *

  Gnome-nap Saga Enters Twenty-fifth Day

  By Tobi Fletcher

  As the city of Santa Fe enters the third week of waiting for news on gnome-nap victim, AG, suspicions of motives have begun to circulate.

  No ransom note or demand has been received, leaving residents to speculate.

  “It’s obvious someone’s hiding him,” said John Willis of Tesuque. “I don’t think we’ll see that gnome again.”

  Another popular theory is that AG has been whisked away on an overseas trip and his humans will soon receive photos of him in other countries.

  “That happened to a neighbor of mine once,” said Amanda Sanchez, of Canyon Road. “They got postcards of their gnome in front of the pyramids and on the Tower of Pisa. All the neighbors were shocked.”

  Others point to the length of AG’s disappearance without contact as disproving this theory.

  The residents of Los Alamos Court, AG’s home, are still optimistic that he will be returned safely and implore anyone with information to contact this newspaper.

  *

  What does one wear to a seduction? Actually, how does one even conduct a seduction? It was hardly my forte. I curled up on my couch and called Grace.

  “Tobi, hon!” She didn’t seem at all surprised that I’d called out of the blue for the first time since … ever. I liked that.

  “Hey, Grace. I … er …” I took a deep breath. “Hypothetically, if I were to take your advice from yesterday—”

  She squealed. “You’re going to seduce that hunk-a-burning-love?”

  I rolled my eyes but refrained from voicing the comment on my lips—I needed her help. “Just hypothetically, if I were to do that … what would I do?”

  “Oh, you have so called the right person. You need to remember C.R.A.Z.Y.”

  I closed my eyes and leaned back on the cushions. Perhaps this was a bad idea. “Because I’d be crazy to do this?”

  “No, each of the letters stands for something.”

  “There’s a mnemonic for seduction? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  “Do you want my help or not?” She didn’t sound pouty, though. More like playful.

  Embarrassed but determined, I steeled myself for what was to come. “I do. I’m sorry. Crazy.”

  “Yes. The C is for clothes.”

  “I’d already worked out that was a factor. Any advice?”

  “Something to surprise him. What about buying a new dress?”

  “No time. I’ve got under two hours.”

  “Okay. Just the sexiest thing you have. And don’t forget make-up.”

  “Er … right.”

  “Now, the R is for the room. Where are you doing this?” She was really getting into the spirit, which was good, because one of us needed to. I was far too tense for that.

  “My place.”

  “Perfect—you have complete control. Set the mood. Candles, music, scents. Make it intimate and sexy.”

  I cast a look around my apartment. Intimate and sexy? Well, it was small, so already I had the intimate part.

  “The A is for attitude,” she continued, as if checking them off a list.

  “People have always told me I have that, at least.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, wondering if this whole plan had been a mistake.

  “No, Tobi. An attitude for seduction. Start thinking sexy thoughts—it’ll come out in your eyes and body language.”

  “Okay. Sexy thoughts. Got it.” I could do that. In fact I’d spent half the day trying to stop thinking sexy thoughts about Simon—whenever I’d looked at that horrible date-challenged watch.

  “The first three letters were the preparation. The last two are the process. Zeal and yield.”

  “Zeal and yield?” I rubbed my temples and hoped aspirin was on the list somewhere.

  “Yep. Men love an aggressive woman who takes control, but they don’t like it all the time. Sometimes you gotta yield and let them think they’re in charge. It comes with the testosterone.”

  “Zeal and yield.” Mercy, I was over my head. I jumped up and began to pace the room—a whole three steps either way.

  “You alternate between them. Begin with zeal to give him the idea, then throw in little patches of yield to encourage his internal caveman.”

  “It’s a whole new world,” I muttered, flopping back onto the couch. Did other women really do all this? I sighed. Grace would know. Two husbands and umpteen boyfriends—men loved her. Her methods of attracting them must have some merit, regardless of whether she kept them in the long term. But that wasn’t something that concerned me.

  “Have you got it all?”

  “I think so. Crazy.”

  “Guaranteed to drive him crazy. Make sure you let me know how it goes!”

  “Er … right. Sure. Thanks.” I disconnected and sat staring at the phone. Whose absurd idea had this plan been?

  Mine.

  I straightened my spine. If I needed to seduce Simon Hanson, then I damn well would. And he’d better damn well like it.

  C. Clothes. I jumped up and strode into my wardrobe. Surprise him? Oh, I’d surprise him all right. I’d wear … well, maybe not my taupe suit … or my fawn twin-set and trousers. I flicked through more hangers. Not my cinnamon ensemble either. Hmmm. There was a pattern forming. No matter. I did have one thing in my drawers that was suitable. I rummaged through my sensible cotton underwear until I found a pale pink scrap of lace. I’d bought it once on a whim but never worn it. The one-piece teddy was just the thing.

  Okay. Make-up. I rushed to the bathroom vanity. I had some red lipstick, that’d be good. Yes. And if I just applied enough of my gray eyeshadow, it’d be sexy.

  Clothes—check.

  R. Room. I scrummaged through drawers and cabinets and found every candle I owned. There weren’t enough candleholders, so I stuck some in bottles and others to plates. Good.

  At the back of my linen closet I found a red throw rug for the couch. That’d set the tone. Probably clash with my pink teddy, though, so once I was in my underwear, I’d need to be somewhere else. Couch for fully clothed. Bed for underwear. Check.

  A for attitude. Apparently not the attitude I’d always been accused of. Hmm. Sexy attitude. Think sexy thoughts. All right, I could do that. I held my breath and tried.

  Not even one. Okay, I didn’t need them yet.

  The little red numerals on my watch said I now had one hour. Time to shower and get dressed—then I’d think sexy thoughts.

  All through the shower I remained tense. Even the hot water on my shoulders couldn’t remove the bunching of muscles.

  “It’s okay,” I told myself. “I’ll get through this.” It was like my old track coach used to say, “Now’s the time for the hard yards. Suck it up and put in the effort.”

  I could do this. C.R.A.Z.Y. In a few hours’ time it’d all be over and I’d have won the challenge.

  I dressed in my pink teddy, ignoring the way it scratched my skin, and threw on the only dress I owned. It was dark brown, but slinky and would come off easily. Perfect. I added a slimline watch.

  I had a brainwave as I fastened it—the mother-of-pearl watch I’d worn that morning! It’d driven me insane with sexy thoughts half the day. I changed the slimline for the mother-of-pearl, relieved I’d taken care of the sexy thoughts issue.

  Next I plastered my face with all the make-up I could possibly fit.

  Roger on the C.

  Then I lit ever
y candle and straightened the red throw rug.

  Roger on the R.

  I sat, stared at my watch, and applied my full concentration to thinking sexy thoughts. Um …

  No matter—I didn’t have to think them until Simon arrived. I checked my watch—this time using it for its real job. Five to seven! Damn, where had all the time gone? I started hyperventilating. What were the other letters? Z and Y. Zeal and yield. Zeal and yield. Zeal and yield. I hyperventilated some more.

  A loud knock sounded on the door. Argh! I hadn’t thought of any sexy thoughts yet! I went a little dizzy and leaned back against the wall. I could do this. I never failed at anything and I wasn’t about to start now. In, out. In, out. My breathing gradually slowed down. Another knock on the door.

  Dammit, lover boy, hold your horses. I’m doing my best.

  I marched over to the door and yanked it open.

  Simon stood on my step in light blue jeans with a mint-green shirt, holding a bunch of white lilies. Well the problem with the sexy thoughts was over. My gaze ran up and down his frame in all its Simon-perfection and my whole body blushed in approval.

  He handed me the lilies. I took the flowers and stepped aside to let him in. He cocked an eyebrow as he passed but remained silent. Then he did a slow turn in the middle of the room before his eyes returned to me.

  “You know, she looks like Tobi Fletcher …”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Oh, give it a rest.” I strode off to find a vase.

  “Ah, she sounds like Tobi Fletcher …” he said, eyes dancing. “It’s kinda like The Twilight Zone in here.”

  Would bludgeoning him to death with calla lilies undermine all the preparation I’d done?

  As I filled the vase, I focused on the plan. C: check. R: ch— oh! Music. I rushed over and pressed play on the stereo. Dig Dog’s heavy rock blared out through the speakers and I quickly pressed stop. We could have silence. Silence could be sexy. Certainly.

  I took a breath and deliberately relaxed my shoulders.

  A: check.

  Z for zeal. I could do zeal.

  “Simon, I wanted you to come over because I think we have unfinished business.”

  “We do?”

  “The kiss in the park.” I took a step closer. “I want to finish it.”

  How much zeal was required? I didn’t want to over-zeal him before segueing into yield. I peered into his eyes. He didn’t look over-zealed. He looked … confused.

  I took another step forward, ending mere inches from his body. The heat that radiated from him was enough to give me goose bumps.

  I ran a finger down the front of his shirt. “I think it’s time we stop this farce.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “We have a farce?”

  I took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to make this easy. That was okay. I wouldn’t fail no matter how much he fought. I had zeal on my side.

  I grabbed his shirt and yanked him the last inch, landing my mouth on his. He hesitated, but I had enough enthusiasm for us both. I kissed him for all I was worth, drawing him toward the couch, then pushed him down on the cushions.

  Good. We were in position. See, I knew I could do this. I reached for him again but he reared back and grabbed my shoulders to keep me from following his retreat.

  “Tobi?”

  “Mmm?” I struggled against his hands.

  “What’s going on here, exactly?”

  I froze and glared at him. “I’m seducing you.”

  “Right.” He still held my shoulders.

  I felt a moment’s doubt. “You said you wanted me.”

  “There’s no question of that.” He grinned.

  “Well, shut up and let me seduce you.” I lunged at him again.

  “Oh, right. Sorry.” He released my shoulders and, as I leaned into his face, I saw his eyes dance. No matter. It wouldn’t be long now and he’d be burning with passion for me. Any second.

  I pushed him back so he lay along the couch and I positioned myself on top of him, wriggling against him as much as I could.

  He groaned and this time when I kissed him, he was ready. His hand came up to cup the back of my head and he slipped his tongue between my lips.

  Suddenly, I was in the grip of Hollywood-style lust again. But this time it was acceptable. I’d set out to do it, which put me in control. Heart racing, I ran my hands along his arms then down his sides, bunching his shirt as I went, then ripped it from his jeans. I moaned into his mouth as my fingers made contact with his skin and I arched back a little to touch his chest, not breaking the kiss.

  He tugged at the shoelace straps of my dress, easing one down my shoulder. God, yes. Then I remembered my lace teddy. Fully clothed on the couch. Underwear on the bed.

  Damn, this seduction thing was hard work. I hoped he appreciated it as I swatted his hand away from my strap and guided it to my butt instead.

  His hips bucked gently when I scraped my nails down his torso—it was working! Was it ever! Zeal had done its job—time to move onto yield.

  I let my body go limp against him, praying Grace knew what she was talking about. Time to bring out his inner caveman.

  He eased off on the kiss and stilled his hands. “What’s wrong, Tobi?”

  “Nothing.”

  He rolled me against the back of the couch so there was a little room between the lengths of our bodies, and scanned my face. I did my best to look yield-y.

  He frowned. “Why don’t you tell me what’s really going on here?”

  It seemed yield wasn’t quite as successful as zeal. Where was Cave-Simon? Perhaps I should go back to zeal? Grace had said I should alternate them. I lunged for his mouth.

  He caught my shoulder again and pinned me back against the red throw. Lucky I’d stopped him exposing the pink lace now I was framed by the red.

  “Tobi?”

  Although my shoulders were imprisoned, my hands weren’t. I traced a finger down his exposed belly to the waistband of his jeans, heading for the bulge that awaited me.

  Simon groaned and lifted me as he moved so we sat side by side. He held both my wrists in one hand and my shoulder with his other. There was nothing I could do. Failure loomed, gloomy and menacing. Why had I thought his biceps were sexy? They were purely instruments of persecution.

  I wrenched away from his grasp and edged further down the couch, tears pricking the back of my eyes.

  “Tobi?” he asked again, his voice gentle now.

  I was a complete failure as a woman. Was there another woman on the planet who’d failed in the seduction of a man who already wanted her? One tear slipped free, but before it could slide down my face and expose me, I swiped it away. “I think you should go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere.” He moved closer and wiped a second tear with the pad of his thumb. “Tell me what happened here tonight.”

  “I tried to seduce you. I failed,” I said in a monotone.

  “I wouldn’t call it a failure.” He glanced down at the bulge beneath his zipper.

  “Then why aren’t we in bed?” I’d aimed for anger but my voice came out dejected.

  “God, I wish we were.” He took a shuddering breath. “But something’s not right here. It doesn’t feel honest somehow.” He tipped my chin up with a finger. “Tell me what I’m missing. Why were you doing this?”

  I moved my chin away from his finger and folded my arms over my chest. “I was trying to be like other women.”

  He frowned, and seemed puzzled. “Why?”

  I focused on a candle flame nearby. “Everyone’s been telling me to loosen up. Heck, even you told me. And Grace said a less uptight person would seduce you.” I watched the flame flicker through blurry vision. “I’ve never seduced anyone before so Grace gave me some advice.”

  “What was it?” He reached over and wound a strand of my hair around a finger.

  I sighed. No point being coy now. “She gave me a mnemonic: C.R.A.Z.Y. Clothes,” I glanced down at my wrinkled brown dress. “Room,” I made a
sweeping gesture. “Attitude. Then I was supposed to alternate between zeal and yielding.”

  “Ah. That explains the wet limpet impersonation.” He didn’t laugh, but I could tell he wanted to, damn him. I smacked his hand away.

  “Okay, Tobi, I have some advice of my own to give.” He sat up straight. “I want you in bed right now so much I’m actually in pain. But it’s not going to happen tonight.” He took my hand, but kept his distance. “It’ll happen when you want me.”

  I opened my mouth to protest but he laid a finger over my lips. “I don’t mean when you’ve made a decision to loosen up and I’m your coming out parade. I mean when you simply want me as much as I want you. Heck, I’d even take you if you wanted me half as much, because my want is pretty damn strong. But it has to be about you and me, and only that. And when you’re ready, you don’t need props or a plan. Do you want to really know how to seduce me?”

  I nodded but couldn’t meet his eyes—I’d moved beyond the realms of embarrassed and slid easily into mortified.

  “You turn up and say, ‘I’m ready.’ That’s it. When you do that with plain, honest desire I’ll have this dress off you in less than a second.”

  I glanced back at the candle flame, wanting to pout but not letting myself. I never pouted. “I wore a pink lace teddy underneath.”

  He grinned. “Okay, I’ll amend the instructions. Turn up wearing your pink lace teddy and say, ‘I’m ready.’ Although the first plan will still work. This one will just be more fun.”

  A smile crept across my face. “If you’re going, you’d better go.”

  He stood. “All right. I’ll leave, but there’s one last thing.” He grabbed my hands and pulled me to my feet, flush against him.

  Before I realized his intention, he’d grasped my face with his hands and caught my mouth in a scorching kiss. My lips opened without conscious thought and he took full advantage. My toes curled and my heart went into overdrive.

  Then he broke away, coming back for a chaste kiss, then another, before he stepped away and sauntered to the door.

  I stood, stunned by the emotional intensity of the kiss and his apparent ease at walking away from it.

  As his hand rested on the doorknob, he turned and said over his shoulder, “See you, Tobi. I’ll be waiting.”