Debbi Rawlins - Alone with You

“You wanted to talk. I’m listening.”

Lexy met his watchful eyes. They seemed darker now, more green than gold, and for all his easygoing manner, she had the impression that he missed very little of what went on around him.

“I have something I need you to do. We,” she quickly amended. “The Worthington Group.”

“My contract was with Sundowner.”

“Your contract is actually with the holding company, and we have you for ten more days.”

“Ah, you own my ass I believe is how you referred to my indenture.”

Lexy smiled at the term he’d chosen. He possessed his own brand of charm and she could see why women found him attractive. Perhaps this silly errand wouldn’t be as big a pain as she’d expected. “Yes, that might have been an overly ambitious statement. However, it seemed appropriate at the moment.”

His slow grin made her heart speed up. He took another pull of beer, his eyes staying on her face even as his head went back. He lowered the bottle, then used the back of his wrist to wipe his damp mouth. “Where are you from?”

“Oklahoma.”

His brows went up. “Born and raised?”

She nodded. “Outside of Oklahoma City. Why do you seem surprised?”

Tanner’s broad shoulders moved in a slight shrug. “Your family ever been ranchers?”

“Quite a few generations back. Then they struck oil and eventually branched out into several different businesses.” Hard as it was to believe, he honestly didn’t seem familiar with the far-reaching Worthington Group. Most people would recognize the name. “I’ll get to the point. We’ll be introducing a men’s fragrance line next year and we’re looking for a spokesperson.”

She paused to take a sip of water. A second later, her stomach rumbled loudly, but she willed herself not to react. When she looked at Tanner again, it was as if another man had taken his place.

His mouth had pulled into a tight, thin line. Wariness and scorn darkened his eyes. “So...what’s it to me?”

“I’m not saying we’re asking you to be that person but—”

“Good.” He stood and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna take a shower. Wanna join me?”

“Oh, so we’re back to you trying to scare me off.” So interested in his smooth, muscled chest, she almost missed his cocky smile.

“Definitely not what I had in mind.” He deliberately ran a gaze down her front. “Why not have a little fun before you go?”

“I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“Wanna bet?”

Lexy thought for a moment. Of course he was only taunting her but it could work in her favor. “Sure. Five hundred bucks. Unless that’s too rich for you.”

He got to the last button and yanked the shirt from his jeans. “I’d feel real bad taking advantage of you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” She sounded too confident, she realized. The goal was to win that five hundred off him. Later she’d give it back, tell him she’d been joking, but she could use the cash now. Dear God...what had become of her? Her father would just— “Do we have a bet?”

He shrugged out of his shirt and she had to watch. He had a fine chest. Great shoulders, too, well-defined muscles bunching and releasing with the movement of his arms. When her gaze finally made it back to his face, he looked a little suspicious.

“You know I didn’t mean an actual bet,” he said, walking past her to drop his shirt into a basket near the bed. “But you seem all fired-up sure you can take five large off me. That’s got me curious.”

“And worried.”

He let out a short laugh. “Nothing you can say or do will make me pimp your perfume.”

“Men’s cologne.”

“Hell, call it whatever you want.”

“You haven’t even heard the details.” She’d noticed the three-inch surgical scar on the back of his shoulder. The other one below his ribs was jagged and definitely not left by a surgeon’s knife.

“Don’t need to.” Tanner unbuckled his belt.

“Really?” She leaned back, got comfortable and stared at his fly. Oh, he did not want to play chicken with her.

His only answer was to unsnap his jeans and pull the zipper down halfway.

“Let’s see what you got. I should know what I’m peddling.”

He narrowed his eyes, then laughed. “I knew you were a whack job from the get-go. I should’ve ditched you in the parking lot.”

“Yet here we are.”

Tanner studied her face, the amusement gone, replaced by annoyance. As though he couldn’t figure her out. “Last chance.”

She smiled and kicked off her shoes.

He unzipped the rest of the way, and receiving no reaction, pulled off his jeans. She hoped he couldn’t see her holding her breath and didn’t notice her relief when she saw the brown boxer-briefs. If he’d gone commando, she wasn’t sure what she would’ve done. No, not true. She would’ve stayed where she was, cool as could be. That’s what she chose to think, anyway. Because staring at him in the body-molding underwear wasn’t easy, either.

Will Tanner was really...something. No spare flesh, just muscle. His thighs, butt, calves, his...Lexy silently cleared her throat. The man was quite well-endowed.

“Very good,” she said, grateful her voice didn’t crack or climb several octaves. But damn, she had to stop looking. She pulled out her phone and concentrated on the screen, flipping from one picture to the next. “You should have no trouble getting a month on the calendar.”

He flung his jeans at the bed, then faced her full on. “The what?”

“The promotional calendar that will debut the fragrance and decide the spokesperson. Didn’t I mention it?” She looked up, undaunted by his dark, menacing expression. “We want you to be Mr. October.”

* * *

HE STARED IN stunned silence, and then laughed. “Who put you up to this? Charlie?”

“Um, no one. I’m really here on behalf of The Worthington Group.”

“I should’ve known right off.” Tanner shook his head, taking in her shapely calves and slim ankles. “You have too nice a body to wear that frumpy outfit.”

Her eyebrows arched with just the right amount of indignation. She was good. “This is an Armani suit.”

His birthday was in four weeks. Charlie always got the day right but not the month. Usually they just had a drink, but Charlie was probably trying to make a point that it was time for Tanner to follow him into retirement. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the bathroom doorjamb. “Go ahead. Skip to the part where you pull your hair loose and take off your clothes.”

She blinked, glanced at his chest, then let her head fall back, her lips slowly forming a smile as she stared at the ceiling. “This is just perfect,” she murmured to herself, then brought her head up. “I don’t know anyone named Charlie and I’m not a stripper.”

He kind of hoped that wasn’t true. It wasn’t only her pretty blue eyes that had stirred his interest. She had nice legs and breasts. He hadn’t seen her backside without the jacket yet, but he doubted he’d be disappointed.

“I won’t tell Charlie I guessed early. You go on and do your little act, darlin’. I promise I’ll enjoy it just as much as if it had been a surprise,” he said, extending a hand to help her off the couch.

She swatted him away. “You jackass. I am not a stripper.”

“I never said you were. I forget what they call people like you.”

“Pissed off.” She reached into that gigantic purse of hers and he expected music to start playing. Instead, she yanked out her wallet, then leaned back and studied him. “Are you putting me on? You can’t really think—” She sighed and flipped open the brown leather billfold. “Here.”