Glancing up from under her eyelashes, she studied the exasperating man at the neighboring desk. He was so gorgeous. On the outside. It was no wonder he was sex-obsessed—who wouldn’t be with those looks?

Ignoring the upkick of her pulse at the thought, she wondered—could that be the key to him opening up to her? In a post-orgasmic haze, could she convince him to listen to her? Had she been too quick to shoot down his ridiculous proposition? Was his proposition actually not all ridiculous?

The little war inside her began again: Worst. Idea. Ever. You don’t have any better ideas. It’s stupid. It’s brilliant. It’s happening. It’s inevitable.

Shortest war of all time. Turned out all Andy needed was a little justification for the horny teenager inside to get her way.

Now, how to go about it? She’d just flatly rejected him. It wouldn’t work to simply turn around and accept. This called for something more extravagant. This called for a full-on seduction.

No matter that she’d never done one before. How hard could it be?

Chapter Ten

“Let me get this straight. You are asking me to give you a makeover. In order to get your boss to sleep with you. In order to keep him from sleeping with other women. So that you can convince him to settle down with another woman?” Lacy was clearly horrified.

“That’s about it in a nutshell. Sounded better in my head.” Andy peered into the mirror. “Definitely need to straighten my hair. I bought some dye, too. He likes them dark brunette.”

Lacy smacked the little cardboard box right out of Andy’s hand. “Absolutely not. If you are determined to go through with this preposterous idea, and I do think it’s a bad one, you will thank me later for not letting you permanently alter your beautiful hair.”

“I know what you think. But trust me. I know this guy. He needs this, and it’s going to change everything.” She pulled a curl down experimentally to see how long her hair would be when straightened. Inches longer, it turned out.

“Oh, I have no doubt about that. It’s whether it’s the kind of change you hoped for that I do doubt.”

“What are you muttering about, Lace? Hey, how do you use liquid eyeliner? It looks like it should be a lot easier than it is.” Andy turned to her sister¸ a smeary black panda.

Lacy burst into laughter. “You are such a mess. I can’t believe I’m helping you with this. Come here. We have to take that off. Hand me the cotton balls, I’ll do it for you.”

Andy obediently closed her eyes and allowed her little sister to glide the cool oil over her lids. She hummed a little under her breath, until Lacy smacked her again.

“I can’t perform a seduction with a bruise, you know.” She started to open her eyes, but saw a shadow applicator beginning the descent.

“You won’t perform one without an eyeball, either. Keep them closed until I tell you to.”

While Lacy worked her hand in a soothing rhythm across Andy’s lids, Andy allowed her thoughts to wander. After she showed up and knocked Blake off his feet and into his bed, what would happen? She got warm just imagining those strong hands gripping her close. His mouth, hungry for hers, taking what he wanted. Her breasts pressing into his solid chest as he thickened against her—“Ow! Stop hitting me!”

“Stop moaning! What the hell, Andy?” Lacy swatted at her upper arm again. “I am uncomfortable enough right now without having to hear your sex noises. Okay, open your eyes and look at my shoulder. I’m doing mascara now. Don’t blink. Don’t look away. And don’t blink,” as Andy’s lashes fluttered.

“Sorry. It’s just that I think I’ll enjoy it.” If his kiss was any indication, Andy was going to enjoy sex with Blake a lot.

“That’s quite obvious. Sex is enjoyable. And God knows you aren’t doing it very often.” Lacy recapped the mascara and flipped on the flatiron. “Speaking of which—are you still on birth control?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I got a three-year IUD about two years ago.” Back when she could afford such things. Lucky now since birth control wasn’t in her budget. She’d be using a condom with Blake anyway. She didn’t want to concern Lacy with the information, but his track record made STDs a real concern.

Andy leaned back into her sister’s hands as they massaged some sort of serum into her curls. “And anyway, you’re one to talk. When’s the last time you did it?”

“Not the point. You don’t see me jumping into Darrin’s bed, do you?” Lacy clacked the paddles of the flatiron together threateningly. “Though I’d probably get more hours…”

“Does Darrin even like girls?”

“Not sure about that, actually, I can’t make up my—you know what?” She paused for a moment to point the iron at Andy in the mirror. “Also, not the point. The point here is that you are making a bad business decision based on lust and not on reason. I don’t want to see you lose another job because you aren’t thinking beyond your own satisfaction.” Back to work she went. One strand at a time flattened, lengthened, and shined.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I am starting to get a real read on this guy. Sex is the only Achilles’ heel I can find on him. It’s my in. I get to know the real Blake Donovan, I can figure out exactly what the angle is that I’m missing in matching him.”

Lacy’s tight expression said she didn’t believe Andy any more than she believed herself.

“So maybe I’m looking forward to it. So what? If I enjoy myself, well. It has been a long time. I barely remember how to do it.” How did Lacy always manage to pull confessions from her without batting an eyelash?

“The fact that you call sex doing it says a lot, I’ll give you that. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Lacy was making that concerned face that made Andy want to jump on her and pet her hair and assure her everything was okay.

But she knew from experience Lacy did not like the pouncy-petting. So she settled for verbal assurances. “I do. Remember, figuring out what people want is sort of my thing. Don’t worry about me, or my job. This is me doing my job. It’s always been unorthodox. I’m just taking the necessary steps now to do the best job I can.” Funny how her assurances sounded a tad bit more like defensive strikes.

Lacy ran a brush through Andy’s newly stick-straight strands. “You look different, that’s for sure.” Her voice was a bit gentler, though, as if the assurance/defense strikes had hit their mark.

Andy assessed herself in the mirror. Her hair was long, straight, and glossy. Her eyes were smoky and mysterious. A nude gloss shone on her lips, and the glow in her cheeks was all natural. She was as close as she could be to Blake’s ideal woman without suddenly developing an exotic heritage and dropping fifteen pounds.

So what if she didn’t look like herself anymore? This wasn’t about her. If only someone would tell her body that. It was thrumming with electricity even at the thought of Blake’s eyes touching her, much less the rest of him. All of her nerves were oversensitive, raw in anticipation.

Time for the coup de grâce. If Blake wanted a sweet, submissive woman, she’d deliver. Alone in her room, Andy stripped off her everyday lace-trimmed undies and donned an, okay, lace-trimmed pair of boy shorts. She skipped the bra, but only because the nightie she’d chosen was so chaste. There were sleeves, and it fell to her midcalves. It was a pure and virginal white.

She gazed at her reflection in the closet-door mirror for a few moments. She was the undeniable mix of Madonna and Magdalene—in about an 80/20 ratio—that she felt certain Blake was looking for.

Deep breath. You are about to have your world rocked. Was that too presumptuous? No, most of the women wanted to see him again. He had to be good in the sack.