Risqué Business. Tawny Weber
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Nick’s smile widened. Oh, yeah. This little adventure was definitely going to pay off.
AS SEAN AND Nick debated off-air the details of some contest to prove her worth as a reviewer, and the weather girl wowed the television audience with her well-endowed cloud banks, Delaney tried to catch her breath.
No matter what direction she’d tried to move the dialogue, Nick Angel, writer extraordinaire, had blocked her attempts and refocused. She’d like to think she’d have been better able to control the conversation if it weren’t for the fact that the sex scenes from his last few books had kept flashing through her mind like a slideshow. Each one featuring Nick himself as the studly hero doing decadently hot, wild things to her body.
It was almost enough to make a woman long for erotica instead of romance. Almost.
Her fingers clenched and unclenched the nubby linen of her skirt. With a sigh, she noticed the roadmap of wrinkles creasing the oatmeal-hued fabric. Between nervously chewing off her lipstick and now mangling her skirt, she obviously wasn’t handling this “new her” thing very well.
Her gaze flashed between the two men. Back and forth, they debated ways to prove their points. Once again, even though she was the actual subject under discussion, she was invisible. Her frustration quieted her nervous fingers. Dammit, this makeover was supposed to give her empowerment, not simply shift her from completely invisible to pretty but ignorable.
Sucking in an irritated breath, Delaney pulled back her shoulders and pressed her hands flat to her thighs. If she wanted to be more like one of Nick Angel’s heroines and snag her promotion, she couldn’t fade into the background. Mindy and a library full of self-help books all advised speaking up. So she’d speak. Even if it meant the possibility of the “old her” coming out.
“Gentlemen, I think you’re complicating this.”
Well, what d’ya know? Her words, quietly spoken but with that underlying edge of authority she used with her students, grabbed the men’s attention.
“Beg your pardon?” Sean asked.
“It’d be a much more encompassing answer if it simply addresses the issue at hand. Mr. Angel questions my ability to speak for the average reader, correct?”
Both men nodded, Sean with a frown, Nick with a gleam in his eyes. Delaney looked away from that laser-blue heat and took another girding breath.
“The easiest answer is for me to review a variety of books and post the reviews on the show’s Web site. Create a poll with safeguards to ensure cheating isn’t allowed, and invite readers to vote. We could add two other reviews, just to ensure anonymity and an unbiased vote. And then we’ll know if the public agrees with my reviews or not.”
“Take it to the public,” Sean mused, his tone contemplative. He rubbed his chin as if he was considering the ramifications, but the fact that he was practically bouncing in his seat let her know she’d hit his happy spot.
“I think this would be a great way to prove the validity—” he cast a glance at Nick “—or lack thereof, of your reviews.”
“Right, like that’s a fair assessment,” Nick scoffed.
“Oh, it would be,” Delaney said sweetly. “As long as you choose the books.”
His eyes narrowed. “I get to choose?”
“Sure. We’d need some solid parameters, of course. You know, books still available in print so viewers can get ahold of them, something like that. But I have no problem with you choosing the subject matter.”
His grin, wickedly satisfied, assured her she’d have plenty of erotic reading coming her way.
“And when I’m done,” she assured him, “I’ll have proven that readers are looking for emotion. They want the thrill of the ride, yes. But they want to read knowing there are real feelings at stake.”
“Quite the contrary,” Nick said, leaning over to offer his hand to seal the deal. “I’m sure you’ll have proved that the readers are savvy enough to take their thrills without a fake sugar coating.”
With a quirk of her brow, Delaney put her hand in his larger one. Engulfed by the hard strength, she wondered if she’d just made a huge mistake. Or if she’d just guaranteed her loss of invisibility.
Either way, things weren’t boring. That was for sure.
“The stakes?” he asked, the gleam in his eye making it clear he already had that worked out.
She tilted her head, indicating he name them.
“If your reviews don’t win, you’ll admit I’m right,” Nick demanded. “And you’ll admit it here on television.”
Ahhh, a publicity stunt. He must be getting a lot of pressure because of her comments. She nodded slowly.
“Deal. And if my reviews do win…?”
“They won’t.”
She cocked a brow. “Good, you’re confident enough that I won’t win, so you shouldn’t have any problem agreeing to write your next book to include a truly intimate relationship for John Savage.”
She didn’t know where it came from, maybe she really was channeling one of his heroines, but she leaned forward and with what she hoped was a wicked smile and a flutter of her lashes, she gave his knee a pat.
“I’ll be happy to help you write those pesky love scenes, of course.”
4
A COMMERICAL BREAK later, the deal was sealed. The producer rubbed his hands together in glee, Sean had informed the viewers and Delaney drooped from exhaustion.
She left the testosterone-filled set and made her way down the narrow hallway. She reached her dressing-room door and turned the knob, only to find it locked. With a groan, she leaned against the opposite wall and let her head fall back.
She’d been in such a hurry to get away from Nick Angel and his overwhelming sexual charisma, she’d proposed the terms of the bet without thinking it through. She didn’t know what worried her more, his agreeing or his wicked grin as he’d done so. Either way, she was in trouble.
“Forget something?”
She didn’t even jump. She did, however, give a sigh before she opened her eyes.
The man was even more gorgeous in natural light. Standing there in the deserted hall, he had a look of expectation on his face. Before she could wonder why, she noticed her purse, dangling in all its feminine allure, from his fingers.
“Thank you,” she murmured, taking it from him. But instead of getting her key, she let it fall to her side. The idea of inviting him into her dressing room was simply too much to consider.
She flicked a glance over him, as he stood there in all his masculine beauty. Had she ever met a sexier man? She’d seen plenty of handsome ones over the years, but none who’d exuded the level of sexual charisma Nick did. Definitely no man she’d dated came even close to his appeal.
She recalled that scene from his last book. The hero had cornered the heroine in a dark hallway. After pinning her to the wall, he’d told her in graphic detail the many ways he wanted to do her. Then he’d taken her in the hall, right in front of a plateglass window, with her leg wrapped around his waist.
Delaney eyed Nick’s waist and wondered if her leg could reach that high. The heels would be a definite help. A shuddery breath caught in her throat as heat spiraled down her body. Warm heat pooled between her thighs, shocking her. She’d never been this turned-on. And never for a stranger, especially one with such obvious issues with intimacy and relationships.
It was his writing, she was sure. Like foreplay, it had already stirred up the sexual tension in her mind. And, after all, the mind was the largest and most important sexual organ. Next to the heart, of course.
“I