Sandra Chastain - Bedroom Eyes

Mitch knew that Anne was just responding to the exotic ointment he was covering her with. But he was responding to her. He rubbed her back with broad, sweeping strokes, trying to finish up quickly. He had to get this done and back off, or the result wouldn’t be two ships passing in the night. It would be the Titanic in the making. He wanted to make love to Anne, but he wanted her to know it—and want it as much as he did.

“Your back is done. I need you to turn over now, Annie,” Mitch said in a low, tight voice.

Anne moaned as she flipped over, dislodging her towel. “Is it supposed to make you feel hot and cold at the same time, Mitchell?” Her eyes were closed as she ran her fingertips up and down the smooth column of her neck, then traveled down to her breasts. An overwhelming tide of desire obliterated any guilt Mitch was feeling.

He swallowed hard. “Annie, I think you just ought to lie there and be quiet. The ointment might feel strange, but it will take away the pain.”

“But Mitchell, it hurts good.” Anne wiggled her lower body, rubbing her leg against his.

Mitch groaned. His fiancée, the very proper Ms. Anne Harris, was about to go over the edge….

Dear Reader,

Every woman deserves a lover who makes her feel beautiful and desired, a lover who sweeps her up into a fantasy she never forgets. Lucky for Anne Harris, that’s exactly what she gets when she arranges for Mitchell Dane, her bachelor-in-a-box, to be her fiancé. Only, she doesn’t know that her “perfect lover” is real—yet….

I hope that reading about Anne and Mitchell’s amorous escapades make your pulse race and your temperature rise. But there is more than one “perfect lover” in the Dane family. And if all goes as planned, Mitch’s hunky brothers are about to make someone else’s fantasies come true. In Look, But Don’t Touch, the second Dane brother loses his battle with matrimony. But which one? Send me your ideas at Sansmy@bellsouth.net.

In the meantime, sit back and enjoy. And every now and then, close your eyes and think of Hawaii. I know I did.

Aloha,

Sandra Chastain

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

768—BARING IT ALL

Bedroom Eyes

Sandra Chastain

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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For help with my Hawaiian words, special thanks go to Heidi Umbhau, who is from Hawaii, and to Betty Cothran, who isn’t.

For the information on Key West, thanks to Vanessa McCaffrey, and the ladies of the Key West chat room, who were great!

And, as always, thanks to my Wednesday Lunch Bunch—Nicole Jordan, Ann Howard White, Deborah Smith, Donna W. and Donna Sterling—who suffered through every word with me.

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Epilogue

“I NEVER THOUGHT I’d admit it, but I desperately need a man,” Anne Harris said, tugging at her short skirt as she sat down and crossed her long legs. “My mother seems to think you have some sort of catalog of available prospects.”

“Bachelor-in-a-Box doesn’t work quite that way,” Bettina explained with a smile. “The actual photograph is only a small part of my service. We have to create a romantic past and design a plan of action. Will this be a new man in your life or will he be a longtime lover?”

“I don’t want a new man or an old lover,” Anne corrected. “Been there, done that and I’m still paying for my lesson. I simply need to rent a temporary fiancé.”

“Fine,” Bettina said, matching Anne’s straight-to-the-point approach. “Our service can be a month-to-month arrangement or for as long as you like.”

Across the desk, she studied her client and thought of her free-spirited brother Mitchell, better known to the world as the photographer Dane. Strangely enough, she thought this woman was perfect for him. Unlike Mitchell, Anne Harris was the picture of competency, exuding drive, determination and dedication. She wore her dark hair pulled back in a severe twist and a kick-ass black tailored suit that screamed power. But Bettina sensed something wilder beneath the facade. Even her voice, low and throaty, seemed better suited to one of Mitch’s island beauties than a boardroom. Too bad Bachelor-in-a-Box couldn’t match its clients with real men instead of simply providing a fantasy.

Bettina hadn’t known what to expect when Faylene Harris had said her daughter Anne was coming in, but the young woman’s direct approach was no surprise. Bettina had been told that Anne was a career woman on the fast track to management. Ever since her father’s death, Anne Harris had totally committed herself to her career. She was a doer, determined to be the businessman her father hadn’t been and to honor his last request that she look after her mother. Bettina understood that. Her oldest brother, Mitchell, had been the same way. When their father died, the responsibility of supporting his two brothers and sister had fallen on his shoulders. Once she’d entered college, Mitchell-the-doer disappeared and Mitchell-the-dreamer hit the road, determined to make the world his home.

“A month ago, I wouldn’t have believed such a service existed,” Anne said with a dry laugh. “Leave it to my mother to know, though I don’t know why she would if the men aren’t real. She couldn’t have been your client.” She stopped herself. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

Bettina couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t have to apologize. I know Faylene very well. We met at the gym two years ago. After the first night I learned to look for the cluster of men to see where Faylene was working out. I’m surprised she didn’t come with you—to help you choose your fiancé.”

“Her help is what got me into trouble in the first place. She’s the one who told my boss I’m engaged. I should have corrected her the moment it happened. But I could see that he’d already fallen under her spell and I didn’t want to make her look bad. Now I have to go along with her tall tale. It’s just that…” Her control seemed to falter a bit. “I don’t like deceit. Deceit can hurt people.”

There was something about the unexpected quiet tone of Anne’s voice that made Bettina think that she knew firsthand about deceit and hurt. Bettina found herself drawn to this woman. She liked that Anne cared about her mother. She liked even more that Anne felt uncomfortable with the lie. “Would you care for a cup of tea, Anne?”

“No, thanks.” Anne took a quick look at her watch and visibly made the effort to recapture her professional demeanor. “I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

“Just Bettina. I try to live the fantasy I sell.”

“Bettina, I really need to get this done. Please show me what you have so that I can get back to my office.”

Bettina leaned back in her chair. “It doesn’t work quite that way. Your application tells me about your tastes, the kind of flowers you like, music, candy, gifts. Next we build a history for your fiancé, I provide you with a photograph and we start the fantasy courtship. Your fiancé may not be a real man but we have to make the people around you believe he is. Do you have any questions?”