Mollie Molay - Marriage In Six Easy Lessons

“Nope, I’m dead serious,” Eldridge said. “It’ll do miracles for our circulation. You’ll drive the women crazy.”

April managed to run up four flights of stairs to compensate for her lunch time calorie intake before she changed her mind. This type of exercise definitely wasn’t for her. She took the elevator the rest of the way.

She should have known Lucas Sullivan would be sitting in her office waiting for her.

Outside of a raised eyebrow and a glance at his watch, he didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.

She tried a casual smile, slid the folder with his manuscript in it onto her desk, then dropped into her chair. “Sorry to have kept you waiting.”

He shot a telling glance at the pages that had slid out from the protective folder. “Did you enjoy your fries?”

Of all the things she’d expected him to say, a question about her lunch wasn’t it. “How did you know I had fries for lunch?”

“Easy.” He leaned across the desk and pointed to the top page of his manuscript.

April followed his finger to where a liberal blot of ketchup rested on one of his rules. “A happy relationship requires that a woman make her man feel masculine.”

To her private satisfaction, the ketchup stain almost obliterated what she considered to be one of his more offensive rules. A man who didn’t feel secure in his own masculinity wasn’t going to get her sympathy.

She decided to try a little humor. “It’s an editorial comment.” She reached for a tissue and tried to blot the stain away, but all she managed to accomplish was to create a wider smudge on the page, which made the rule completely illegible. “Well, actually, it’s a deletion!”

She laughed and looked up at Sullivan. He didn’t seem the in the least amused. “I can get a clean page to work with,” she said. “Give me a moment.” She picked up the phone, punched a number and spoke into the receiver rapidly, then hung up. “I’ve asked for another copy of page one.”

April tossed the stained tissue into a wastepaper basket under her desk and waited for Sullivan to explode. But outside of a raised eyebrow, he didn’t look upset. Instead, he looked watchful, grim.

She wouldn’t be surprised if Tom had assured him the article would be published as is. He’d said he agreed with Sullivan’s conclusions, after all.

She made a show of rifling through the rest of the manuscript pages. “I’m just about finished making a few suggestions in the margins I think would be helpful.”

Sullivan’s eyebrows knit a frown. “Such as?” he asked quietly, but she could see, from the pulse throbbing in his temple and the rigidity of his body, what the effort to keep from losing his cool cost him.

April smothered a sigh. She knew enough about the academic world to understand that a professor’s reputation depended on continuing to publish. After all, she had to concede, while journalism was her game, he was a noted social scientist. She should have known he wasn’t prepared to take her advice lightly.

In an attempt to soothe Sullivan’s ruffled feathers, she smiled soothingly and moved on. “I’ve never edited a submission that couldn’t use a few changes, if only to make it more appealing to our readers. I’m very aware of who our readers are, their likes and dislikes.”

“In the case of your article,” she continued when he didn’t comment, “I think we need to make a few revisions, in tone if not content. Left as is, I’m afraid the piece is bound to cause a riot among female readers.”

“Strange,” he said thoughtfully. “That’s what Tom said at lunch. “But he sounded as if it was a positive thing, not negative. But I still say no to any changes. I take every word I write seriously.”

“Of course, Mr….er Lucas,” April agreed. “As your editor, I feel it’s my job to suggest constructive changes without altering your original thesis—if for no other reason than to keep your reader’s attention.”

“I don’t think you understand,” he said. “My original study was published in a scientific journal. Tom asked me to write this article based on that study.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts. My conclusions aren’t just a matter of my own opinions. I interviewed a number of grad students and volunteers before I drew those conclusions.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” April said, trying for some kind of common meeting ground. “The subject of your article is quite controversial. I’m sure you’re aware of a couple of alternative theories about the mating game that are more acceptable to women.” Including to her.

“Of course, the survival of the fittest,” he agreed. “The selfish-gene theory. Frankly, I don’t think many people stop to think about finding a mate with strong genes to pass on to their offspring.”

April shifted uneasily. “There is another theory, you know.”

“You’re no doubt referring to sexual attraction,” he said with a shrug. “That, however, is merely a matter of biology.”

April could hear Rita’s derisive laughter.

Mesmerized by his disparaging assessment of what surely had to be an important aspect of the mating game, April managed to nod. “Still, a lot of people believe it to be true.”

His gaze changed suddenly. Became warm, roved over her facial features and came to rest on her lips. She almost squirmed.

“I’m a scientist, or if you prefer, a social scientist, Ms. Morgan. My work is based on an actual sociological study of relationships.” His gaze now moved down to her throat. “If you question my credentials, I would be more than happy to provide them for you.”

April raised a hand to make sure the buttons on her blouse were securely fastened. If Sullivan only knew, his credentials weren’t in question. Not his physical ones, anyway, she thought guiltily as her gaze roamed over his seated frame. How could he not know that those eyes of his could turn a marble statue into a pile of dust?

Rita had been more on target about sex than she knew. What April had hoped would be a constructive exchange of ideas suddenly seemed to have turned into a frank appraisal of a mutual sexual attraction. If Sullivan thought sex was a natural magnet between the male and female species, how in heaven’s name had he come up with a set of rules no woman in her right mind would buy into?

“It’s not your credentials I question,” she finally said. “It’s your conclusions.”

This time his eyebrows arched almost to his hairline, and the pulse in his temple increased.

Not a good omen for a compromise, April figured. Not when he managed to continue to look sexy as hell, in spite of his anger. She had to remind herself she was the man’s editor and not a potential playmate. That she wasn’t offering herself as a candidate for the mating game.

She felt compelled to add, “I can’t bring myself to believe you were serious when you wrote these rules, Mr. Sullivan—Lucas.”

This got his undivided attention. “Serious? Damn right I was serious. Still am! What I was trying to say is that sexual attraction should be resisted. At least initially.”

April took heart. What was becoming clear was that Sullivan had seldom been questioned, let alone told by anyone that his work was a subject for laughter. She wasn’t sorry she’d been the one to do it. She might have been a little too frank, but at least he was paying attention.

“Okay, let’s talk about your interpretation of your research,” April said.

Sullivan still looked annoyed, but he shrugged. “Go ahead. Talk.”

“Well,” she began, “I’m afraid your interpretation is biased. How many people did you interview during the course of your original study?”