Operation Babe-Magnet: Operation Babe-Magnet / Operation Beauty. Kristin Gabriel
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three.”
“Pointers?” Dexter echoed, realizing he must have misunderstood her. “You think I need pointers?”
“I think you should be familiar with Harry’s tutorial on kissing. We want your method to match the book.”
Tutorial? This was ridiculous. He’d been mauled by a strange woman in a bookstore and Kylie was concerned because he hadn’t seduced the woman on the spot. But before he could explain that he’d never had any complaints about his kisses, she began reading aloud from How To Jump-Start Your Love Life.
“The right kiss will make your lady purr like the engine of a Lamborghini,” Kylie looked up at him. “Harry likes to draw a lot parallels between romance and auto mechanics to make it more comprehensible to male readers.”
“Fascinating,” Dexter said dryly.
“There are three key components to remember when striving for the perfect kiss. Proximity, pressure and pizzazz.”
“Should I be taking notes?” he asked, finding this entire conversation ludicrous. He was twenty-eight years old. Did she really believe he that needed remedial lessons in romance?
“That’s not a bad idea,” she replied, then pointed to the end table. “There should be a pencil and notepad in the drawer.”
Well, at least that answered his question. He didn’t move from the beanbag chair. “I think I can keep it all in my head. I just have to remember the three Ps. Proximity, pressure and pizzazz.”
“Very good,” she replied, then turned back to the book and continued reading. “Proximity is the most important of these three vital components. A man should immediately establish the dominant role, invoking the image of both protector and pursuer.”
“Okay, now we’re up to five Ps.” Dexter said, leaning back in the beanbag chair. “Proximity, pressure, pizzazz, protector and pursuer. I take it Hanover is a big fan of alliteration.”
Kylie dropped the book in her lap. “I’m not sure I agree with that bit about the dominant role. And I certainly don’t remember reading anything about it in the first draft. Maybe there was an editing mistake.”
“It sounds fine to me.”
She frowned. “You believe men should play the dominant role in a relationship?”
“That’s not what the book says,” he replied evenly, warming up for a good debate. He’d been a state champion in forensics in high school. “Hanover clearly states that the man should establish the dominant role during the kiss. That he should take on his natural role of pursuer. Since the beginning of time, men have been the hunters, pursuing their prey. A thousand years ago they hunted the water buffalo. Today it’s the woman.”
She arched a brow. “And you don’t find that attitude at all sexist?”
“Hey, you’re the one who hired a gigolo. Don’t you think that’s sexist? You even gave me a makeover so women would find me more appealing.”
“You were appealing before,” she countered, her cheeks turning a becoming shade of pink. “But image is everything in this business, and you looked more like a power broker than the author of a book on romantic relationships.”
“So who do you like better?” he asked, taking a sip of his wine. “The old Dexter Kane or the new Harry Hanover?”
She picked up the book and held it in front of her, making it impossible for him to see her face. “I think we’ve gotten off the subject.”
Dexter opened his mouth, then closed it again. Maybe he didn’t really want to know her answer. “Then let’s move on to the next P. It’s presumptuous, isn’t it?”
“Pressure,” she replied, lowering the book. “Are you sure you don’t want to take notes?”
“Positive.”
“All right, but pay attention.”
Dexter watched her lick her lips and wished he could stop paying attention. Stop watching the way her fingers trickled through her silky nutmeg hair when she tucked it behind her ear. Stop noticing the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled. Stop his gaze from falling to the enticing curves outlined by her hot pink sweater. Or even lower, to appreciate the way her black capri pants hugged her long legs.
He reached for his wine, suddenly wishing it was something stronger.
“There are two kinds of pressure,” she read aloud, “that should be applied to achieve a penultimate kiss. The first is bodily pressure. If you’ve achieved the correct proximity, it should simply be a matter of leaning close enough to make physical contact with the length of her body. Like cables clamped on a car battery, you need a good connection to generate electricity.”
Dexter set down his wineglass, suddenly growing very warm. It was possible the sheen of sweat on his brow wasn’t due to the wine. In fact, he knew with a growing certainty that his body was reacting to the sound of Kylie’s soft, throaty voice describing the way to turn a woman on.
She shifted on the inflatable sofa, tucking one leg underneath her and stretching the other long leg in Dexter’s direction. “Second is mouth pressure. This should vary during the length of a kiss. Seduce her into submission. Too much pressure will cause the kiss to stall out. Too little won’t even get her engine started.”
“Exactly what kind of relationship does Hanover have with his car?” Dexter asked, trying to break the tension building up inside of him.
“I know it’s a little heavy on the automobile references,” she replied. “Harry started out writing car repair manuals. But I think one of the great things about this book is that it will appeal to men. There aren’t many romance self-help books out there that relay information in this kind of language.”
“That I definitely believe.”
“Okay, on to the third P,” she said, flipping to the next page. “Pizzazz in a kiss is like racing stripes on your car. That little something extra that really makes it stand out from the crowd. So how do you put pizzazz in a kiss? By using both verbal and nonverbal communication to convey your attraction. Use your body, your hands and your words to ignite the passion between you. Just like you talk to your car, talk to your lady. Make her know how much you care about her. And how good she makes you feel.”
Kylie closed the book. “That’s it.”
“Okay.” He picked up his wineglass and drained it. Then he set it down and took a deep breath. “I’m ready to go for a test drive.”
KYLIE SMILED AS SHE watched Dexter struggle out of the beanbag chair. It obviously wasn’t designed for someone over six feet tall.
She stood up and held out her hand. “Need a lift?”
He looked up at her, the expression in his molten gray eyes sending a shock wave throughout her body. It must be the wine.
Only the wine didn’t explain the strange sensation that enveloped her when his hand closed over hers. Her heart skittered in her chest as she helped him to his feet. She was suddenly aware of how big Dexter Kane was compared to her. At five feet seven inches, she’d never considered herself petite. But she barely reached his chin. His shoulders were so broad they blocked the view of the hallway, though she knew Amy’s door was closed and her roommate fast asleep.
Kylie swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. Dexter was still gazing at her with those penetrating gray eyes and his hand still held hers. He had strong, broad hands and the shirt they’d picked out for him emphasized his well-honed biceps. The combination made her believe that he could lift her off the floor with the slightest effort. Not that she wanted him to lift her, she told herself firmly. But the image was undeniably thrilling.
“Are you ready?” he asked huskily, their palms growing warm.
“Ready?” she echoed dumbly.
“To