Perfectly Saucy. Emily McKay
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drove her absolutely batty.
But before she hung up, she couldn’t help but ask, “What I don’t get is this. If you’re so worried about what I’m doing, why did you want to make sure my clothes met with your approval?”
“Well, sure, I’m worried. That’s all the more reason for you to look drool-worthy. If you’re going to make a fool out of yourself, I at least want you to look good while you do it.”
Buoyed by Patricia’s “encouragement,” Jessica poured herself a splash of wine and gulped it down. “Thanks, that’s very helpful.”
“I’m sorry I’m not more optimistic.” But Patricia didn’t sound the least bit contrite. “Look, I can understand you wanting to get some—I mean, lately you’ve been living like a nun—but, come on, Alex Moreno? Going from celibacy straight to him is like deciding you need to work out more often and starting by climbing Mount Everest.”
“Pffft,” Jessica muttered dismissively. But was Patricia right? Was Alex the Mount Everest of men? Was she insane for thinking he might be interested in her? Was she crazy for thinking he’d even remember her?
“Jess, you can ‘pffft’ all you want, but he’s the baddest bad boy this town has ever known. You could get into serious trouble with a guy like him. And if you’re doing this just because of that silly list…”
On her way back from a nine-week-long business trip to Sweden—a trip during which she’d worked her butt off and still hadn’t gotten the promotion she’d been promised—she’d picked up a copy of Saucy magazine in Gatwick Airport. The cover article was “10 Things Every Woman Should Do.” Have an Affair to Remember was at the top of that list. And Alex Moreno was at the top of her list of men she’d want to have a passionate affair with.
“Patricia, you only think The List is silly because you’ve done all of the things on The List.”
“Well—” She chuckled, sounding just a tad smug. “I guess I have.”
“Exactly,” Jessica growled.
“Hey.” Patricia sounded falsely cheerful. “It’s not like you haven’t done any of the things on the list.”
“One. I’ve done one. Live Abroad. That’s the one and only thing on The List that I’ve done. And that hardly counts since I did that for work.”
“All I’m saying is,” Patricia countered, “you want to do some of the things on The List? Fine. But start with something smaller. Something a little less traumatic. Less likely to come back and bite you on the ass. Why not buy a leather miniskirt? That was on the list, too, right? Or get a tattoo.”
“Get a tattoo? You think permanently scarring my body would be less traumatic than sleeping with Alex?”
“Okay, traumatic maybe wasn’t the best word. Drastic is more what I meant. I just don’t think you need to do anything quite so drastic.”
And that was exactly what Patricia—who’d done all the things on the list numerous times—didn’t get. Drastic was just what Jessica needed.
“I’ve worked for Handheld Technologies for six years now,” she pointed out. “For the past two years, I’ve been working my butt off for a promotion to team leader. Instead of promoting me, they made me floor safety manager—the schmuck in charge of keeping the first-aid kit stocked and evacuating the floor in case of a natural disaster.”
“It’s almost like a promotion,” Patricia murmured in placating tones. “It’s a sign they trust you.”
“No, it’s a sign they think I’ll look okay in a bright orange vest. I’m tired of settling for floor safety manager. I’m tired of settling, period. I’m ready to start living my life.”
And—silly or not—she’d begin with that list of ten things every woman should do. As soon as she’d seen it, she’d pulled out her Day-Timer and copied each item onto her Priority Action sheet. She’d start at the top and work her way down. And at the top of her list was Alex Moreno.
“Look, I’ve got to go,” Jessica said.
“Just remember to sway your hips when you walk. And lick your lips a lot. And—”
“Patricia—”
“And…and, good luck!”
Jessica punched the off button and returned the phone to its cradle. Luck? She didn’t need luck. She was a Saucy woman now. Or she would be soon. Once she checked all the items off The List.
STANDING ON THE doorstep of Jessica Sumners’s quaint, ranch-style house, Alex Moreno felt as nervous as he had standing in her father’s courtroom a decade ago.
Not for the first time since he’d moved back to Palo Verde, did he doubt his sanity. He’d moved home to prove to this town that he’d changed. That he wasn’t the wild, reckless kid he’d been back in high school. He was now a successful businessman and upstanding member of the community. A damn paragon of responsibility.
All of which would have been a hell of a lot easier to prove if someone would actually hire him. He needed this job.
Despite that, he hated that his first job would be from her.
In the past decade he’d imagined seeing her again more often than he cared to admit. He’d pictured them meeting as equals, he casually mentioning the jobs he’d worked on in L.A. and the Bay Area, her suitably impressed by his success. Never once had he pictured standing on her doorstep, praying she’d hire him and thus resuscitate his dwindling bank balance.
As he rang the doorbell he caught a flash of movement through the leaded glass of her front door. His stomach turned over in anticipation.
Through the window, he saw her walk toward the door and swing it open. Her eyes flicked up the length of his body then came to rest on his face. Her smile faltered and he watched her struggle to keep it in place.
She looked nervous, but even nervous, she still took his breath away. She wore a simple black dress, with her hair pulled back. A pearl hung from a silver chain around her neck. Her strained expression undermined the elegance of her appearance. Maybe she was dressed for a funeral. Either way, he saw a flicker of anxiety in her eyes. As if he was the cause of her heightened emotions.
“Alex.” She murmured his name, almost caressing it with her mouth.
The sound of his name on her lips sent a wholly inappropriate shiver of pure lust through his gut.
Then she cleared her throat, swung the door open wide enough to let him in and held out her hand for his. “Thank you for coming on such short notice.”
“No problem.” Her hand felt small and warm, her handshake surprisingly firm. He pulled his hand from hers then held out the portfolio describing his experience and listing his references.
Jessica blinked in surprise at the folder, then finally took it. She barely glanced at it before laying it on the marble-topped table beside the door. Her gaze traveled down his length to settle somewhere near his feet.
“You wanted me to look at your kitchen,” he reminded her. He’d come straight from work. His shoes, his clothes—hell, everything about him—carried the dust of a hundred construction sites. He worked for a living—hard, manual labor. That never bothered him…until this instant, standing on Jessica’s doorstep.
“Oh, yes.” She blushed, stepping aside so he could enter. “It’s this way.”
She gestured for him to follow her, then turned and walked through the wide doorway to the living room. Her hips swayed gently as she moved. The movement dragged his gaze down the long length of her legs to her bare feet. Her little black dress did nothing for him…but, man, oh man, the sight of her bare feet twisted him into a few knots.
Her feet were narrow and delicate, but not tiny. The feet of a tall woman, with long, graceful toes and high arches. Pale…and perfect.