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Lethal Exposure
Lori Wilde
Surrendering to a sensual playboy!Hot bodies don’t come any hotter than drop-dead gorgeous PR whiz Sebastian Black, who’s come to the luxurious Confidential Rejuvenations clinic to save its shaky public image.Nurse Julie has been playing the good girl her whole life, so falling into bed with sinfully seductive Sebastian is the perfect opportunity to let her naughty side out. As long as it’s just no-strings sex, that is! After all, naughty girls don’t fall in love with their late-night bed buddies…do they?



What was he afraid was going to happen if he had sex with her?
Sebastian knew she could deny it all she wanted, but Julie was the happily-ever-after type. So why had she propositioned him out of the blue?
Just then, there was a knock at the hotel-room door. Grateful for the distraction, Sebastian went to answer it. “Yes?”
“Package for Mr Black.”
Sebastian opened the door, tipped the bellman generously and accepted a large box with a fancy ribbon. He removed the lid and peered inside. He laughed at the pair of black cowboy boots, matching black stetson and brand-new lasso.
At the bottom of the box was a folded note.
“I’m naughtier than you could ever guess, cowboy. Wear this outfit and meet me at Lone Star riding stables on Sunday at 10:00am. That is, if you have the balls.
J
PS Expect the unexpected…”
Lori Wilde is the author of forty books. She’s been nominated for a RITA® Award and four Romantic Times BOOKreviews Reviewers’ Choice Awards. Her books have been excerpted in Cosmopolitan, Redbook and Quick & Simple. Lori teaches writing online through Ed2go. She’s a registered nurse trained in forensics and she volunteers at a battered women’s shelter.

Lethal Exposure
By

Lori Wilde



www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/)
To Brenda Chin, for helming the Blaze® line to great success

Table of Contents
Cover Page (#ufbe0592c-61a8-550f-aa15-aaf0c3de5a36)
Excerpt (#u52c308ec-45cf-555f-b58b-6195af0edf53)
About The Author (#u68ceda25-a478-5422-8fd1-95eb8110ac38)
Title Page (#ub2548f82-d38b-5f34-8016-43bb77cc74ed)
Dedication (#u2bf180b5-5c23-5f22-9896-80abaf0716b2)
Chapter 1 (#u461cbc58-b54e-5dd5-b974-a95379e53f45)
Chapter 2 (#ucd4b802d-7d79-57cd-83ee-b1b5b76dcd2d)
Chapter 3 (#ucbed3d34-8aab-5178-a77c-b5638f5620ba)
Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Preview (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 1
“SEX SCANDALS, insider media leaks, Mafia connections and homicidal nurses running amok in a hush-hush, celebrity boutique hospital in Austin, Texas? How are you planning on spinning your way out of this one, Sebastian?”
Sebastian Black grinned at his stern secretary, Blanche Santini, like James Bond smirking at Moneypenny. “I’m not a spin doctor,” he said. “I’m a highly trained public-relations specialist adept at repairing the tattered reputations of the social elite.”
Blanche snorted.
“I’m shocked that you doubt me, Blanche, shocked.” He loved teasing her just to see her get bent out of shape. He’d hired Blanche because she reminded him of the doting aunt who’d raised him. He kept her on—even after he discovered she was nothing like his permissive aunt Bunnie—because she was the most efficient secretary he’d ever employed.
“Confidential Rejuvenations’ latest disgrace made the front page of the Inquisitive Tattler. It’s the fourth time this year. Tough case, even for a man with your silver-tongued talents.”
“Have you ever known me to fail?”
“First time for everything,” Blanche said crisply and dropped the Confidential Rejuvenations file on his desk.
With his smile still firmly entrenched, Sebastian cradled the back of his head in his palms and propped his feet on his desk. Blanche frowned at his shoes, which were polished to a high sheen. It was all he could do not to settle them back on the floor. The woman worked for him. He wasn’t about to let her dictate his behavior.
“Why, Blanche,” he drawled. “If I didn’t know better I’d think you wanted to see me fall on my ass.”
“Charm, poise and sex appeal will only get you so far in life, Mr. Black.”
He hated when she called him Mr. Black. It made him feel like his father and he was nothing like his old man. “Don’t forget my razor-sharp wit.”
Blanche rolled her eyes. “Mark my word, one of these days you’re going to get your comeuppance.”
“Comeuppance? Which millennium is that from?”
She ignored his comment. “At some point the wine, women and song have got to come to an end.”
“It still works for some,” Sebastian said.
She waved a hand at the file. “You have a first-class seat booked on the ten a.m. flight to DFW. With the time difference and plane change, you should arrive in Austin on schedule for your dinner appointment with the Confidential Rejuvenations’ owners. I checked the weather in Austin, storms are expected this evening so I packed your raincoat. Would you like me to drive you to the airport, sir?”
“No, thanks,” Sebastian said. Blanche had driven him to the airport before and she followed the speed limit as if it was one of the Ten Commandments. “I’ll get Linc to do it.”
“As you wish.”
He chuckled, but the minute Blanche was out the door, he dropped his feet to the floor, leaned forward and flipped the file open. Truth was, he loved a challenge of this magnitude.
Sebastian saw himself as a modern-day knight in shining armor. Swooping in on his fire engine-red Ferrari, saving the day with a glib turn of phrase, a wink and a grin for the media and then swooping out again, with money lining his pockets and kudos ringing in his ears. Returning to his lavish 90210 area code and bachelor lifestyle. It was the kind of life he’d daydreamed about as a poor kid growing up on a run-down farm in Bakersfield with his little brother Lincoln, his ditzy, hippie aunt Bunnie and all the other eccentrics at the commune.
He was just about to buzz Lincoln’s office when his brother appeared in the doorway, jangling his car keys. Even though Linc was the younger brother, he was a good two inches taller than Sebastian’s own six-foot height, and where Sebastian had black hair and black eyes, Lincoln possessed green eyes and auburn hair. They had the same mother. Different fathers. But being half brothers hadn’t affected the close bond between them.
Growing up, Sebastian had been the one to look after Linc, get him off to school, make sure he did his homework. He taught him how to ride a bike and then later, drive a car. Aunt Bunnie and her friends had been too busy making clothes out of hemp, drinking wine, spouting liberal politics, writing poetry and playing guitar to pay much attention to what he and Linc were up to.
“Blanche said you needed a lift to LAX.” Even though Linc was eleven months back from Iraq, he still kept his hair trimmed in a precision military cut.
“Do you mind? Blanche drives like a prison warden.”
“Not at all. It’ll give us a chance to talk.”
Sebastian pushed back his chair, stood up, took his designer suit jacket off the coatrack and shrugged into it. “What’s up?”
“It’s about Keeley.”
“Did you guys break up?” he asked hopefully.
Sebastian couldn’t say he was surprised. While Keeley was a good person, he didn’t think she was right for Linc. She was one of those tree-hugging idealists who chided Sebastian for leaving “a big carbon footprint.” Whatever the hell that meant. He shrugged. Bottom line, she thought he should drive a Prius and live in a hut made out of manure and eat berries and twigs. Since Keeley was a peacenik and Linc was a soldier, he’d just been waiting for the sonic boom.
He tucked the Confidential Rejuvenations file into his wheeled carry-on bag and spied the present he had tucked away for Linc. He’d been waiting for the right moment to make him an equal partner in the PR company and give him the solid gold nameplate he’d had made for Linc’s desk. He snapped the case shut.
Sebastian crossed to the door, pulling the suitcase behind him and clamped his brother on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about Keeley. Plenty of fish in the Pacific Ocean. I’ll take you out when I get back from Austin. We’ll hit all the trendy clubs and get rip-roaring drunk.”
Linc met Sebastian’s eyes. “Keeley and I didn’t break up.”
Uh-oh. His brother had that defiant expression on his face that he used when they were kids and Sebastian told him to do something and Linc wasn’t of a mind to obey. His brother was generally a pretty accommodating guy, but when he dug in his heels, he dug in his heels. Sebastian couldn’t count the number of wrestling matches they’d had as he’d imposed his will on his younger sibling. Linc had never won, but he’d come damn close a time or two.
“No?” Sebastian turned and started toward the elevator, and his shoes suddenly felt heavy, as if he was trudging through mud.
Linc hurried after him. “I know you two don’t get along.”
“Of course we get along.” Sebastian stepped into the elevator and Linc followed. “I get along with everyone.”
“On the surface, yeah, because you’re great at keeping up appearances, but I know Keeley rubs you the wrong way.”
Sebastian punched the button for the parking lot. “Hey, I don’t have to sleep with her. If you like her…”
Linc hardened his jaw. “I want you to make more of an effort to see her side of things.”
“Look, she’s entitled to her opinion, I’m entitled to mine. We don’t have to like each other.”
“Could you do it for me?”
“Why push us on each other, Linc? This affair will burn out and then you’ll have a new girlfriend. I can’t be best buddies with all of them.”
“You’re wrong about that.”
Sebastian felt a cold prickle of apprehension slide down his spine. “What do you mean?”
“I wanted you to be the first to know.”
He didn’t want to ask because he feared the answer, but Linc had a hand on his shoulder. “Know what?”
“Keeley and I are getting married. We’ve set a date for April. I want you to be my best man.”
That grabbed Sebastian by the short hairs. He jerked his gaze to Linc. “You’re what?”
His brother wasn’t backing down. “You heard me.”
“Aw, come on, buddy. You can’t be serious.”
“I am.”
“You’re not thinking clearly. Marriage is a huge step and April is only six months away. Why so fast? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
“We’re getting married in Austin where her parents live. They want to throw us an engagement party at the end of the month. I can give you their address if you’d like to drop by and meet them while you’re in town. Keeley’s father is the one who recommended us to Confidential Rejuvenations. ”
“I appreciate the recommendation her father threw our way, but you don’t have to marry Keeley over it,” Sebastian joked.
Linc shot him a chiding glance. “Keeley says she’ll make an effort to get along with you, if you’ll make an effort to get along with her.”
“But come on, marriage?”
“She wants you to like her.”
It was as if they were having parallel conversations, both talking but neither really hearing the other. “You can’t be getting married. You’re barely twenty-five and she’s what? Twenty? Twenty-one? She’s not even through college. That’s way too young to get married.”
Especially to someone as uptight and uncompromising as Keeley Marshall.
Linc stopped beside his silver Toyota Camry. “My mind is made up, can’t you just be happy for us?”
Guilt chewed at him. He wanted to be happy for his brother, he really did, but whenever Sebastian thought about marriage he got a tight choking feeling in his throat. Reaching up, he loosened his tie. “Dude, you’ve got a good ten years of bachelorhood left in you. Ten years you can never get back. You can always get married.”
“I love her, man.”
Sebastian raised his palms. “You just think you’re in love. You come back from Iraq after seeing a lot of scary things. You’re vulnerable, horny and first thing out of the box you meet Keeley. It’s chemistry and circumstances. That’s all.”
“I know what I feel,” Linc insisted stubbornly and unlocked his car door with a push of the keypad.
Sebastian tossed his carry-on bag into the backseat and climbed in the passenger side, shaking his head as his brother slipped behind the wheel. He snapped his seat belt into place. “How many women have you slept with?”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“A hell of a lot.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Just answer the question.”
“Three,” his brother admitted and cranked the engine. “Three, okay? I’ve slept with three women. That doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”
“Including Keeley?”
“Including Keeley.”
“You don’t have enough sexual experience to say Keeley is the one.”
“How many women have you slept with?” Linc wheeled from the parking lot.
“A gentleman never kisses and tells.”
“A dozen?”
Sebastian laughed.
“Two dozen?”
He couldn’t seem to get enough air. He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and dialed up the air-conditioning vent, turning it up as high as it would go. “My sexual history isn’t the issue here. Rather your lack of one.”
Linc guided the Toyota onto the expressway and began maneuvering over into the HOV lane. “I prefer quality over quantity.”
“Who says I don’t have both?”
“I’m not talking about sex. I’m talking about emotional intimacy.”
“You sound like a girl.” Sebastian hooted. “I mean come on, emotional intimacy?”
“When was the last time you had a serious girlfriend? Oh, wait, you’ve never had a serious girlfriend.”
“Hello.” Sebastian spread his arms. “Happy playing the field. And that’s exactly what you should be doing.”
“With all due respect, Sebastian, I don’t think you’re the best person to be giving me relationship advice.”
Sebastian felt a twinge of something odd in the secret corners of his heart, in a place he didn’t want to examine too closely. Linc had been little more than a kid when he’d joined the army after two years of college. The whole time he was overseas Sebastian kept thinking about the day when his brother would come home. He’d imagined them out on the town together, having fun, living the bachelor lifestyle. He’d mentally planned road trips and adventure vacations. He’d envisioned Linc coming to work for him at the PR firm he’d started with nothing but his self-confidence, winning smile and glib tongue.
And while Linc had come to work for him, they’d never really had a chance to cut loose, party together or take the trips he’d planned. Keeley had seen to that.
You’re jealous.
Sebastian frowned as Linc turned onto the airport road and got into the lane leading to the terminal. Of course he wasn’t jealous. What the hell did he have to be jealous of?
He certainly didn’t want what Linc had. A bossy woman leading him around by the nose. He’d known for a long time that he wasn’t cut out for marriage. He liked his freedom too much.
He had it all. Successful business, big house in Beverly Hills, lots of money in the bank and a little black book filled with names of beautiful, high-profile women.
What more could a man ask for?
“Why are you so afraid of commitment?” Linc asked. “Considering our childhood, and the way your father treated you, I’d think you’d be hungry to find that one special woman to share your life.”
“I’m not afraid of commitment.” Sebastian reached up and yanked off his tie. He inhaled. Ahh. Getting that noose from around his neck made it easier to breathe.
Linc laughed.
“What?”
“You’re terrified.”
“I’m not afraid and besides, there is no such thing as one special woman. All women are special.”
“Spoken like a man who’s never been in love.”
That statement irritated Sebastian. What was it about people in love? They turned so smug, as if they’d discovered the ancient secret of the ages or something.
Linc pulled to the curb.
This was it. Time to tell him he was making him a partner. Maybe that would change Linc’s mind about this whole marriage nonsense. Sebastian reached into the backseat, unzipped his suitcase and took out the nameplate Blanche had wrapped in gold foil and tied with colored raffia.
Feeling awkward and far too sentimental for his own liking, he thrust the package at Linc. “This is for you.”
“What is it?”
“Just open it.”
Linc opened the package, then read the lettering out loud. “‘Lincoln Holt, partner.’”
Sebastian cocked a grin at his younger brother, smiling past the constriction in his throat. “I promised I’d make you partner.”
“Aw, hell, Seb.”
“Well?”
Silence filled the car.
“What do you say, partner?”
“Sebastian…there’s something else I gotta tell you.”
“Keeley’s pregnant?” he guessed. It was the only reason he could see for his brother’s hasty marriage.
“No, Keeley’s not pregnant.”
“Did I mention a raise comes with the partnership?”
Linc shook his head. “I can’t. Keeley’s uncle offered me a position at his security firm in Anaheim and I’ve accepted.”
“Oh?” Sebastian said lightly, as if he didn’t care, but inside his gut balled up tight against his spine. “You’re jumping ship right after I make you partner?”
Linc met his gaze. “You and I both know that I’m not cut out for public relations and this job with Keeley’s uncle would make use of the expertise I gained in the military.”
Sebastian felt the same way he did when Linc had told him he’d enlisted, like he’d been kicked in the gut with steel cleats. But he refused to let it show. He gave his brother his best public-relations smile. “This is really what you want?”
“It is.” Linc handed him back the nameplate.
He stuffed the damnable thing into his jacket pocket. “Then go for it.”
Relief shone in Linc’s eyes. “Thanks, man. I appreciate your understanding.”
His nose burned. The nameplate weighed heavily in his pocket. He blinked and shrugged. “Not a problem.”
Sebastian retrieved his carry-on luggage and humped it into the terminal with a backward wave at his brother. Once he was out of his Linc’s sight, he ditched the nameplate in a trash can, straightened his shoulders and moved through the security checkpoint. He found his gate and then boarded the plane, all the while managing not to feel a damned thing.
It was only when they were airborne and he had the Confidential Rejuvenations file in front of him that the familiar—but unwelcome—sensation of abandonment stole over Sebastian.
Knock it off, Black. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Focus on the job. It always saves your ass.
Work and a night on the town with a beautiful woman.
That was exactly the antidote he needed. It never failed. A new assignment in a new city and a new woman to make him forget all about these unwanted feelings of missing out on something important. He was on the road again and as soon as he got to Austin, he planned on seducing the first appropriate female who crossed his path.
After all, it had been months since he’d had a soft, willing woman in his arms and he had a reputation to uphold.

“DEMARCO,” Maxine Woodbury called down the immaculately clean corridor. She was a sixty-nine-year-old emergency-room ward secretary who’d been floated up to Confidential Rejuvenations’ sexual dysfunction unit while the regular ward secretary was on maternity leave.
“Yes?”
“You’ve got a new admit coming in.”
Julie DeMarco, R.N., suppressed a heavy sigh. It was her third admission of the day and while that was nothing unusual, the double whammy of crappy news she’d gotten in the morning mail had her feeling far less than her customary enthusiastic self.
Normally, Julie was known around the hospital for her cheery, glass-half-full optimism. She prized a sense of wonder and tried to look at the world with kindness, hope and empathy. Sure, she got teased for it. And yes, she’d been a cheerleader in high school. She couldn’t seem to help herself. She did tend to look on the bright side of life.
At work, she favored special-order pink scrubs patterned with red hearts and wore her long, wavy blond hair pulled back in a perky ponytail. Outside of the hospital environment, Julie wore floral prints and paisleys and richly textured fabrics that flowed softly when she moved and she allowed her hair to tumble about her shoulders in unbound curls.
She knew she wasn’t a classic beauty. Her eyes were too wide, her forehead a bit too narrow, her lips too lavish and she was self-conscious about her slightly crooked front tooth. She’d promised herself veneers when she’d passed her credentials to become a certified sex therapist, but it looked like the veneers would have to wait. One of the letters she’d received that morning was the disheartening news she’d flunked her qualifying exam.
The second unsettling piece of mail had come from her ex-lover, Roger.
At the thought of the letter resting in the pocket of her lab jacket, Julie curled her fingernails into her palms. Just when she thought she was finally getting over him, he’d sent her into an emotional tailspin again.
Dearest Julie,
These last six months have been torture without you. I think of you constantly and dream of being with you again. I miss the taste of your lips. The sweet lavender scent of your hair. The bright hopefulness of your smile. I would love to get together and rekindle our old bond. Please know you’re never far from my thoughts.
All my love,
Roger
The rat bastard wanted a booty call.
She inhaled sharply. His letter held not a single mention of the reason they’d broken up. Julie had discovered that he’d neglected to tell her one crucial little detail about his life.
Roger had a wife. And he had a daughter just eight years younger than she.
It’s what you get for dating older men.
The familiar guilt that had haunted her from the day she’d discovered Roger was a married man—the same day she’d broken things off with him—clamped down on her.
She felt like such a stupid romantic fool. Roger had been only her second lover. Her first lover had been her college biology professor, who’d broken up with her once the semester was over and gone on to another student.
She was a walking cliché. Burned twice by older men and her sexual naïveté. Her lack of in-depth, hands-on sexual experience was the main reason she’d asked to be assigned to the sexual dysfunction unit and it was the motivation for her decision to get certified as a sex therapist. She thought the knowledge could help her learn how to differentiate sex from love.
It was something she clearly had trouble doing.
Julie thought about Roger’s letter and how much he’d hurt her. She’d been so ashamed she hadn’t told anyone about her mistake except her two best friends, Elle and Vanessa.
Her stomach knotted. Until Roger, she’d believed in fairy-tale romances and she’d always thought of herself as a “good” girl. Now she felt tainted, dirty.
Shaking her head, Julie sidled up to the resplendent green granite counter of the nurses’ station. “What’s the new admit’s diagnosis?”
Maxine was a thin, feisty woman who loved Confidential Rejuvenations so much she ignored the fact that she was past retirement age and just kept working. She dyed her hair flame-red and had a penchant for turquoise jewelry. Today she wore a pair of dangly phoenix earrings.
“Priapism.” Maxine winked.
This time Julie did sigh. “Priapism” was the medical term for an erection that wouldn’t abate even with repeated sexual activity. The cause was usually drug-induced. “Viagra?”
“Some herbal thing.”
“Guest’s age?”
Confidential Rejuvenations’ new policy was to call the patients “guests” as part of the hospital’s attempts to revamp their image damaged by recent scandals. In Julie’s estimation it was a silly idea, but no one had asked her opinion.
“He’s thirty-one.”
“So this was a recreational thing, not a home remedy for impotence?”
“Apparently.”
Julie frowned. “Boys and their toys.”
Maxine glanced over her right shoulder, and then over her left. Finally she leaned forward and lowered her voice. “The patient is a Hollywood director who’s been shooting a film here in Austin. He’s being admitted under a generic alias to the Corona Suite.”
It wasn’t uncommon for celebrities to dodge the paparazzi by signing in with bland monikers like Smith or Jones or Black.
“But before you escort him to his suite,” Maxine continued, “Dr. Carpenter wants you to put him in exam room one, do a physical assessment and then call him when you’re done.”
“Gotcha.” Julie grabbed her laptop computer that was docked on a rolling cart, and headed off down the tiled corridor to check on the rest of her “guests” before the hotshot Hollywood director showed up on the floor.
She’d just completed her rounds when a man in a beige London Fog raincoat got off the elevator and came toward her. He smelled of musky autumn rain and dark truffles.
Stunned, she stood there staring.
He was movie-star gorgeous, causing her to wonder why he’d chosen a career behind the camera instead of in front of it. Tall and lean, but muscular as an athlete. His thick black hair was brushed back off his forehead, giving him a powerful appearance, which was complemented by his perfectly tailored navy blue suit, cream-colored shirt and maroon silk tie. His eyes were enigmatic, his cheekbones high and chiseled, his mouth wide and inviting. His eyes, fringed by lush lashes, looked black as ink and full of mystery.
He was the kind of man who made even a die-hard romantic like Julie surrender her happily-ever-after daydreams for the promise of one unforgettable night in his bed.
Definitely a Hollywood type. This had to be her guy.
The air between them weighed heavy with expectation. He looked as if he owned the entire hospital and everyone in it. He looked as if he wanted to own her as well.
Feeling ambushed by this totally unexpected and wholly inappropriate sexual attraction, Julie’s stomach pitched as a dozen wayward fantasies flipped through her mind.
She pictured herself rolling around on a bearskin rug in a woodsy Alaskan cabin with the guy. She imagined their sweat-drenched bodies pressed together as they made love on the white sand beach in the Canary Islands. She envisioned them writhing against each other on the dance floor of a trendy salsa club as they danced the Lambada.
He was an Artic explorer and she was a native woman offering him the comfort of her igloo…and her body. She was a high-class call girl and he was her frisky sugar daddy and they were joining the mile-high club on a first-class trip to Paris. He was a virile cowboy and she was a sassy saloon gal.
In her wildly imaginative mind, she could taste the briny flavor of his skin as she licked his bare nipple. She inhaled the intrinsic scent of lusty man. She could hear his deep-throated groan as he called out her name in pleasure.
Whoa!
What was wrong with her? He was a patient. She was a nurse. It was inappropriate, unprofessional and wrong on about ten different levels. She should not be feeling these sensations.
And yet, she was.
Stop this now.
She tried to make her mind blank. Tried to tamp down the erotic vision of what his hot male body would look like stripped of his London Fog raincoat and designer suit. She tried to slam the brakes on her taboo fantasies.
But she could not.
Oh, this was bad, bad, bad. She was supposed to be the sex expert, but she was the one who needed therapy.
Shocked by the intensity of her emotions, her gaze dropped helplessly to his crotch.

Chapter 2
SEBASTIAN, who didn’t miss a trick, noticed where the nurse’s gaze went and he suppressed a smile. “Hi, I’m Mr. Black.”
“I’ve been waiting for you,” she murmured.
Oh, no, whispered his impudent ego, where have you been all my life? A sexually confident woman bold enough to overtly check out his package in public? He gave her the once-over and the first thing he noticed was that she wasn’t wear a wedding band.
Hmm.
Her tongue flicked out and she ran it across her full, strawberry-colored lips.
Spellbound, he simply stared. He liked her. He liked her a lot.
She stood at the end of the corridor in front of a floor-to-ceiling stained glass window. The late-afternoon sun filtering in through the myriad of colors cast a radiant rainbow over her smooth, creamy skin. The center of the stained glass art was an unfurling red rose. The sunlight shimmered, bathing her honey-blond hair, which was pulled back so appealingly in a long ponytail, in a blushing pink glow.
Like zinfandel. Sweet, light, innocent.
The sight was evocative enough to cause instant sweat to bead on his brow in spite of the temperate climate inside the hospital.
Sebastian had an almost irresistible urge to pull the clasp from her hair and run his fingers through those silky locks. He couldn’t pry his eyes off her and he had no idea why. He normally went for leggy redheads with big boobs, not diminutive waifs with vulnerable eyes. His heart literally skipped a beat and the unexpected reaction disturbed him. Usually the only time his pulse skittered was when he successfully steered a client’s reputation out of the skids.
His gaze dropped to the round curve of her breasts. Her name tag said Julie. A sweet romantic name.
He glanced up.
Their gazes met.
Cemented.
She possessed the most interesting blue eyes he’d ever seen. Eyes the same color of the Pacific Ocean.
Her lips parted.
Sebastian gulped.
Quickly, she glanced away, but then a second later her gaze was on his again, assessing him with slow, deliberate intent until he began to feel like a bug under a microscope.
She narrowed her eyes, pressed her lips together in a firm line and crooked a finger at him. “Come with me.”
He followed. At this point, he would have gone straight to hell if that’s where she was leading.
Her rubber-soled shoes squeaked quietly against the marble tile. The lemony smell of cleaning solution filled the air. His gaze fixated on the sway of her spectacular ass.
She took a key from her pocket, unlocked a heavy oak door, turned the handle and pushed inside. He went in with her and found himself standing in a state-of-the-art examination room. The leather exam table was obviously new and covered with crisp white butcher paper. The fixtures on the walls were shiny, polished chrome.
Was this where he’d be taking his meeting with the hospital’s owners? Unexpected, but okay. Or maybe she was just putting him in here while she went to round up the Confidential Rejuvenations executives.
He shrugged out of his raincoat and hung it on the coatrack beside the door. The room was bigger than a run-of-the-mill exam room, but still small. He turned and found himself face-to-face with her.
She stole his breath with a reassuring smile. The woman made him think of sunflowers and golden retriever puppies and hand-squeezed lemonade. Not a combo he’d ordinarily think of as sensual, but somehow she made wholesome look hot.
Sebastian was acutely aware of a steady strumming of sexual energy flowing from him to her and back again. Her impact was not the full-on whammy of a classic beauty, but instead it was more like the comforting appeal of hot chocolate with miniature marshmallows on an icy winter’s day.
You’re from L.A., what do you know about an icy winter’s day?
Ah, there was the voice of reason struggling to break through the odd spell she’d cast over him. She possessed a certain earthy quality that called to something deep inside him. Something basic, raw and entirely new.
His pulse accelerated. Amazed by his body’s overt reaction, Sebastian had to clear his throat in order to speak. “I want…” Dammit, how could he think with her staring at him that way?
“Yes?” she coaxed, low-voiced as a priest in confessional.
I want. I want. I want.
What did he want? Sebastian frowned, yanked his gaze from her sweet lips and looked deeply into her blue eyes, fringed with long lashes. “Uh…”
Terrific, Black, a speechless spin doctor? He couldn’t ever recall a woman leaving him tongue-tied.
“Why don’t you go ahead and take your clothes off?”
“Huh?” For one wild, incomprehensible moment, he thought she was suggesting they get naked together.
She reached for a pair of purple latex examination gloves resting on the green granite countertop. “I need for you to get undressed so I can do an initial assessment on you and report my findings to Dr. Carpenter.”
He blew out a breath of air on a tense laugh. “Oh, no, no, there’s been some kind of mix-up.”
“There’s no need to be ashamed. Many men experience erectile dysfunction.”
“Hey, hey, hey. I do not have erectile dysfunction.”
“Then why were you taking sexual enhancement supplements? Because you know, using impotency drugs—even when it’s an herbal medication—simply for fun and games can be deadly for your sexual health.”
“Huh?”
“How long have you had the erection?” Her gaze drifted down the length of his body.
He felt the heat of her glance straight to his bones. “Wait, wait.” He held up his palms. “You’ve obviously got me confused with someone else.”
At least this explained why she’d been staring at his crotch. Just the thought of having her examine him with those latex gloves on her lithe fingers shot chills up his spine. He didn’t know if they were chills of dread or anticipation. The prospect was oddly erotic, but in a scary kind of way.
“You’re Mr. Black, correct?”
“Yes, but I’m not a patient.”
She frowned. “You’re not the movie producer?”
“No.”
Flustered, her cheeks pinked and she took a step back, fingering the stethoscope around her neck.
“I’m Sebastian Black, from Back in Black Public Relations. The hospital’s hired me to improve Confidential Rejuvenations’ image after some recent…er…trouble.”
“Oh.” Embarrassment deepened the color in her cheeks from pink to red, pushing it all the way into her hairline. “Oh, no.”
He smiled to reassure her. “Don’t feel sheepish. I should have told you right away why I was here.”
“Well…um…I…” Clearly flustered, she dropped her gaze and started for the door, but he was standing in her way.
She went right.
He followed.
Head down, she dodged left.
He beat her to the punch, smoothly blocking her path.
“What?” she demanded, sounding irritated.
“Look at me.”
He could tell she didn’t want to do it, but he wasn’t moving until she did. She tilted her head.
Their gazes met and a renewed voltage surged between them.
He hadn’t felt an attraction this potent in a long time. The chemistry both unsettled him and stoked his curiosity. What was it about her that so piqued his interest?
It’s not about her. You’re just susceptible because of what happened this morning with Linc.
“It was a natural mistake,” he soothed.
“You don’t have to spin it for me,” she said, surprising him by recognizing what he was doing. “Let’s tell the truth. I made an idiot out of myself by not asking what was the nature of your business the minute you arrived.”
“You were trying to spare me humiliation. You thought I had been playing around with some Viagra kind of thing and got myself into trouble.”
“You’re too smooth for my own good,” she said. “You ought to come with a warning label. Something along the lines of ‘Warning—man may appear more charming than he really is.’”
“How do you know I’m not as charming as I appear?” He grinned, enjoying their sparring.
She tossed her head and her ponytail bounced pertly. “I’ve had dealings with charming men before.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”
“To my detriment, I might add.”
Sebastian took a wild guess. “A charming man left you brokenhearted?”
“Something like that.” She brushed a strand of hair from her eyes. “Anyway, I learned my lesson. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Black, I have to find my real patient.”
“The guy with the irrepressible boner?”
“Mr. Black,” she scolded, but her eyes were lively. “That’s inappropriate.”
“You’re right—” he flicked his gaze to her name tag “—Julie.”
“It’s Miss DeMarco.”
“Miss? As in not married?” His eyes drifted to the bare ring finger of her left hand. He might play the field, but as far as he knew, Sebastian had never bedded a married woman and he wasn’t about to start.
“As in none of your business. Now if you’ll get out of my way, I’d appreciate it.”
He’d pushed too far. Sebastian was smart enough to know when to back off. He stepped aside and she brushed past him on her way out the door.
The contact—their first touching—was nothing short of electrifying.
They both inhaled audibly in a simultaneous breath. She stopped in midstride and their gazes seared again. He felt like a pistol. Hot, cocked and loaded.
She was right. He was inappropriate.
“Look,” he said, “we got off on the wrong foot. Why don’t we start all over?” He thrust out a hand. “Hello, I’m Sebastian Black.”
She hesitated and just when he decided she wasn’t about to take his hand, she reached out. “Julie DeMarco.”
He grasped her soft palm and she squeezed lightly. His entire arm tingled and he experienced a hot rush of sexual energy surge through every cell in his body and the hairs on the nape of his neck rose to attention.
The sight of their clasped hands riveted him. Her creamy skin was much lighter than his. She was all soft and smooth. He was hard and rough. The contrast in their two hands would have made one hell of a photo. Man, woman. Strength, delicacy. Tanned, pale. United.
A familiar rush of adrenaline. The thrill of the chase. Outside in the hallway, in the silence of his indrawn breath, Sebastian could hear a cart being pushed, wheels squeaking, in need of oil. In that moment Sebastian understood that one way or the other, he was going to take this woman to bed.
“Pleased to meet you, Julie DeMarco.”
And then he had a brilliant idea that would effectively kill two birds with one stone. A solution that could help him solve Confidential Rejuvenations’ image problem, plus get him closer to the appealing Miss DeMarco. The technique had served him well on many campaigns.
“Listen,” he said, “I need your help.”
“My help?”
She looked so cute with her brow furrowed and her bottom lip tucked up between her teeth. Good thing she was no longer investigating the zipper of his pants. She’d see that the Viagra abuser wasn’t the only one with a boner.
“I need an insider’s view.”
“An insider’s view?”
“To help me see Confidential Rejuvenations in a way only someone who works in the trenches can. I’d like to hear what you think about the recent scandals.”
“I can’t violate patient confidentiality.”
“Nor would I ever ask you to do so.” He smiled. “I’d just like to get your take.”
“Why me?”
“I need input from several sources, not just the bigwigs in the expensive suits. Let’s be honest, they’re out of touch with what really goes on behind the scenes.”
“Bigwigs in expensive suits like you?”
“Touché.” She was feisty. He liked that. “What do you say?”
“I don’t know if that would be such a good idea.”
“Do you always work the swing shift?”
“Yes.”
“Does your shift start at three?”
“Two-thirty.”
“How ‘bout this. I meet you for lunch at the sushi restaurant down the block that I saw when I was driving in.”
“Are you always this pushy, Mr. Black?”
His gaze held hers. “Only when I see something I want.”
She made a small noise in the back of her throat and gave him a cool, assessing glance. He noticed the pulse at the hollow of her neck quickened. Ah, just as he suspected. She liked him, whether she was willing to admit it or not.
“So it’s a date,” he said as a statement, not a question, but his gut squeezed.
Julie pursed her lips, her frown deepening.
She’s going to say no. His hopes took the express elevator to his shoes.
What in the hell was the matter with him? Why was he so disappointed at the thought she’d reject him? He hadn’t felt this nervous around a woman in years. Blame his aberrant anxiety on the fact his brother had dropped the marriage bomb on him that morning and he was off his game.
It had been too long. He was a bit chagrined to realize he hadn’t had sex in almost ten months. Not because he hadn’t had plenty of chances, but mainly because no woman had excited him enough to give chase.
But Julie DeMarco had changed all that in record time.
She sank her hands on her hips. He saw the word no forming on those full, luscious lips. His disappointment was surprisingly sharp-edged.
She held his gaze.
He heard blood rushing through his ears, felt his body tighten.
“Okay,” she murmured. “I’ll do it. I’ll give you an interview.”

“I MET A GUY.” Julie grinned at her best friends, Elle Nash and Dr. Vanessa Rodriquez. They were sharing a pitcher of beer at a hole-in-the-wall pizza parlor near the University of Texas, which served up the best deep-dish pie in Austin. For the first time since she’d broken up with Roger, Julie was interested in someone and she simply had to crow about it.
It was almost midnight, but the place didn’t close until 2:00 a.m. and it was a handy meeting spot, equal distance from all their homes and Confidential Rejuvenations. Elle and Julie both had worked swing shift that evening and Vanessa had stayed late catching up on backlogged paperwork.
“I’m having lunch with him tomorrow.” She was making it sound like a date, but what was wrong with that? Who knew what direction things might take? One thing was clear, they had chemistry.
It’s not a date.
Okay, so it wasn’t really a date. It was an interview, but still, he’d certainly seemed interested in her. Which was surprising, considering how she’d embarrassed herself over a case of mistaken identity. Remembering what had transpired in the exam room, she bit down on the inside of her cheek.
“A date?” Elle was a sensible redhead with dazzling green eyes and a way of smiling that made everyone like her immediately. She reached for a second slice of pepperoni-and-black-olive pizza. “That’s great. It’s about time. I’m happy for you.”
“Who’s the guy?” Vanessa asked over the rim of her frosty beer mug. Vanessa was a beautiful Latina with long black hair, chocolate-brown eyes and a Mensa IQ. “Anyone we know?”
“His name is Sebastian Black.”
Vanessa set her mug down and leaned back against the red vinyl booth. “Is he the public-relations specialist from L.A. that the hospital’s board of directors hired to polish Confidential’s tarnished image?”
“He is.”
“You move fast,” Elle said. “He just got in to town. The entire E.R. staff’s buzzing about how cute he is.”
“He was the fast mover.” Julie recalled those tense, exciting moments in the exam room when they’d touched. Her fingers were still tingling from the contact.
“Watch out, Tanner filled me in on the guy’s reputation,” Vanessa said, referring to her fiancé, Tanner Doyle. As head of security at Confidential Rejuvenations, it was Tanner’s job to check the backgrounds of all potential employees, including contract workers. “Sebastian Black may be an excellent spin doctor, but he’s also got a reputation as something of a player.”
Julie’s stomach squeezed. Mindlessly, she pleated the red-and-white-checkered paper napkin in her lap. “Meaning…?”
“Handsome, rich, commitment-phobic. Rumor has it he’s got a woman in every city he visits.”
“What’s wrong with that?” she surprised herself by asking.
Vanessa and Elle gave each other startled looks, then turned to stare at Julie.
“Well?” she asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You feel her forehead and see if she has a fever,” Vanessa told Elle. “I’ll check her pulse.”
They moved as if they were actually going to do it. Laughing, Julie held up her palms. “I’m not feverish, honest.”
Elle picked the olives off her pizza. “Where’s our little die-hard romantic? You were the one coaching us not to give up on romance and now, here you are, ready to take up with a playboy who’ll only end up breaking your heart.”
“About that,” Julie said. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Yes?” Her friends leaned forward, hanging on to her every word.
“Maybe it’s time I shook things up a little. Took a walk on the wild side. I’ve never been very good at separating love from sex and I think maybe it’s time I learned. I’m twenty-nine and after the number Roger did on me…” She let her words trail off.
“Seriously?” Elle asked.
Julie glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was within earshot, then leaned closer to her friends and lowered her voice. “It’s been six months since Roger and I’m feeling—”
“Horny?” Vanessa supplied.
“Sexually frustrated.” Julie preferred her own word choice. She wasn’t as frank and earthy as her friend. “You guys, I think that’s why I failed my certifying exam. I’ve been having erotic dreams lately and I’ve been so distracted by them I can hardly concentrate on my work.”
Vanessa looked at Elle and nodded. “She’s horny. That’s my official medical diagnosis. Nothing wrong with being horny. It happens. Part of the human condition. Nothing to feel awkward about.”
“I don’t feel awkward.”
Vanessa waved a hand. “How come your face is turning as red as this booth?”
“Okay, all right.” Julie took a deep breath. “I’m horny. I need a man. And not just any man. I need a man who’s good in bed, but one who is not looking for a relationship. I need a no-strings-attached affair and I need it now.”
“Where is this coming from?” Elle asked. “This philosophy is so not you. Not that I think it’s a bad idea, mind you. Just that it’s not like you.”
Julie pulled Roger’s letter out of her pocket, unfolded it and passed it to her friend.
Elle read it and then handed Roger’s letter to Vanessa. “What a weasel.”
“Oh, no, he didn’t,” Vanessa said after reading it. “The jerk.”
“I’m tired of being a starry-eyed romantic,” Julie said. “I’m sick of being naive when it comes to men.”
“And you think a fling with a totally inappropriate guy will fix that?” Vanessa raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“I know it will.”
“What’s going to keep you from falling in love with him?” Elle asked.
“His total inappropriateness.”
Vanessa dragged another slice of pizza onto her plate. “Being totally inappropriate didn’t stop you from falling for Roger.”
Julie took a sip of her beer. It had gone warm. She grimaced. “That’s because I didn’t know he was inappropriate until I found out about his wife.”
“And his daughter who’s only a few years younger than you,” Elle pointed out. “Don’t forget.”
Julie jammed on a false smile. “Thank you so much for reminding me.”
“So you’ve set your sights on Sebastian Black as your totally inappropriate rebound guy?” Vanessa asked.
Had she? Until this moment, she hadn’t realized exactly what she’d been thinking, but yeah, maybe she had.
“It sounds like this Sebastian character is used to speeding in the fast lane and let’s face it, sweetie, you’re a slow-lane kinda girl,” Vanessa added.
“He did more than turn my head. Sebastian had me so confused I mistook him for a patient.” Julie explained about the Hollywood bigwig patient with priapism and Sebastian’s appearance on the wrong floor at exactly the wrong time, leading to one of the most embarrassing moments of her life.
The fact that Julie was even considering a temporary fling should have been a huge red flag. For her entire life she’d been the girl who collected housewares and linens for her hope chest and cut out pictures from brides’ magazines to paste into her wedding-plan book. Her favorite game had been Mystery Date. She was the girl who plastered posters of boy bands on her wall and kept a pink diary filled with teenage angst about her many crushes.
It hardly seemed fair that her friends had found true love while she was the one who was still single and searching. Not that she resented them their happiness. She just wanted her share, too.
Maybe Vanessa was right. There was no way she was cut out for a bumpy ride in the fast lane. She should probably call up Sebastian and tell him she couldn’t meet him for lunch tomorrow.
Where’s the harm in lunch? She was being nudged by the part of herself that hungered for excitement and the thrill of something new.
“Jules?” Elle said. “You okay?”
“Huh?” She blinked, realized her friend had said something to her and she hadn’t even heard it.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt again.” Elle put a hand on Julie’s arm. “Remember how long it took you to get over Roger?”
Way too long. That was why she needed someone new, someone fresh, someone fun, someone like Sebastian.
She met Elle’s gaze. “I do appreciate your concern. I’ll be careful. I promise.”
Vanessa grinned. “Make sure to pick up some condoms. Ribbed, for your pleasure.”
Julie’s mouth went dry. Maybe she wasn’t up for this after all.
“Please, make sure not to romanticize him. He’s just a guy,” Elle said.
“Like Dante was just a guy?” Julie asked, referring to Elle’s new husband, Dr. Dante Nash, who’d been undercover for the FBI when he’d busted Elle’s ex-husband, Mark Lawson.
“That’s different,” Elle said hastily. “I had to learn how to be romantic. You’re trying to learn not to be so romantic. You’re the one with unrealistic ideas about love.”
True enough. Julie sucked in her breath as she thought about Sebastian. Just remembering his dark, curly hair had her fingers tingling to run through those thick locks. The core of her sex tightened. Her body wanted him, no question about that.
But was she brave enough to step on the accelerator and change lanes? Did she have what it took for a wild, adventuresome fling? Could she really forsake her romantic nature, learn how to have sex for sex’s sake and leave love out of the equation?

Chapter 3
FOLLOWING HIS DINNER meeting with Confidential Rejuvenations’ co-owners, Sebastian holed up in the presidential suite Blanche had reserved for him in Austin’s most luxurious private hotel. The meeting had gone well, but he felt unaccountably edgy.
After stripping off his suit jacket and tie, he tossed them on the bed, then moved to pull the draperies that revealed a sliding glass door. Sebastian unlatched the lock and stepped out on the balcony that overlooked the Colorado River.
City lights twinkled below. He heard the sound of traffic and somewhere in the distance an outdoor band was playing so loudly the music drifted up to the tenth floor. He caught a whiff of exhaust fumes mingled with the spicy scent of cumin, onions, garlic and chili powder from the hotel’s Mexican restaurant.
He leaned over the railing, drummed his fingers on the cool metal and wondered why he was so keyed up.
The feeling was more than his usual fast-paced, get-the-job-done eagerness. There was a strange and new underlying restlessness. He kept thinking about Julie DeMarco and their odd encounter in the Confidential Rejuvenations’ exam room. Something about her made him feel…
What?
He couldn’t express what he was feeling. He only knew this agitated sensation wasn’t normal. Had it started with her? Or did it lead back to this morning when Linc told him he was getting married and leaving the firm?
You’re kidding yourself if you think it’s just a reaction to Linc’s news.
Every time he thought about Julie his insides knotted up. She was small-boned and delicate and ultrafeminine and pretty to a point. But her cheeks were just a little too round to be perfect, her chin a little too sharp. She had a crooked front tooth that shouldn’t have been cute, but it was.
No, Julie wasn’t the kind of woman who immediately turned male heads when she swayed into a room, but definitely once she smiled, she’d be noticed. She was also the kind of woman that could intimidate most commitment-phobic men simply by blinking those honest big baby blues.
Somehow she’d gotten to him.
Sebastian thought about the promise he’d made himself that morning. He’d vowed to seduce the first appropriate female who crossed his path. Well, Julie was certainly appropriate and he definitely wanted her, yet suddenly, seducing her seemed too cavalier.
Too cruel.
Like hunting Bambi with a bazooka.
You don’t have to seduce her. Tomorrow’s lunch could simply be lunch. Forget ulterior motives. Just interview her for behind-the-scenes info at Confidential Rejuvenations and let it go at that.
Good advice.
He had to stop thinking about her and the only way to do that was to get to work. It was 9:00 p.m. in Austin, but he was on California time. He stepped back from the balcony, pulled the sliding glass door closed and headed to the briefcase he’d dropped by the front door.
After he took out the Confidential Rejuvenations file, he sank down at the desk chair to flip through it. On top was a slick brochure printed on the finest paper money could buy. It showed the colloquial architecture of the hospital that made it look like a spa resort. That was the general idea—it was a healing center as opposed to a medical facility.
He’d been there in person. The brochure didn’t lie. At least not about the appearance of the place. The lush green lawns were perfectly clipped, as were the bountiful privacy hedges. Ivy-twined trellises shaded genteel park benches. The profusion of fall flowers in full bloom testified to the exemplary gardening skills of the groundskeepers. A luxurious flagstone walkway led to the front entrance in one direction, while the other fork winded its way to an elaborate hand-carved gazebo positioned on a bluff above the river’s sensuous curve.
What the brochure wisely didn’t reveal was beneath the serene surface, behind the healing promises made in the glossy brochure, beyond those quiet vine-covered walls, a shadowy menace lurked. Careers lay on the line. Fortunes stood to be lost. Reputations hung in the balance.
And Sebastian was the fixer. Hired to bring his particular expertise to the situation and work his magic.
Confidential Rejuvenations had been founded in 1993 by Dr. Jarrod Butler and Dr. William Covey and a famous action-movie actor who’d left Hollywood for his native Austin. Ten years later, after a bout with booze and pills, the actor had needed a return on his investment and sold out his share in Confidential Rejuvenations to a greedy young surgeon named Mark Lawson.
Several months ago, Lawson had been murdered by a mobster on the Confidential Rejuvenations’ campus in a drug deal gone bad. Not long after that, Texas state senator Robert Garcia had bought Lawson’s share in the hospital. Only to have his adopted daughter, Chloe—who’d been a scrub nurse at the facility—try to murder Confidential Rejuvenations’ head of security, Tanner Doyle. Although the police had ruled that Lawson’s death and the attempt on Doyle’s life were not connected to the other occurrences, it remained a PR nightmare.
From the very day Confidential Rejuvenations had opened its doors, there had been rumors, speculation and gossip. It did, after all, cater to the rich and famous. It was a place where the crème de la crème revealed their inner secrets, exposed their vulnerabilities and sought to escape their problems. Unlike most hospitals, Confidential Rejuvenations’ specialties were designed to fit the lifestyles of an elite clientele.
Sebastian flipped the page, reading about the services offered. Innovative cosmetic surgery, cutting-edge antiaging therapy, pioneer treatment in obsessive-compulsive disorders, state-of-the-art substance abuse facilities and revolutionary sexual dysfunction remedies.
Sexual dysfunction.
The unit where Julie DeMarco worked.
He pushed aside that thought and the unexpected sexual stirring that came with it.
After reviewing the entire file and further brushing up on the problems plaguing Confidential Rejuvenations in recent months, he opened his laptop and began compiling a plan of action into the PR software he’d invented.
What he hoped to accomplish was not just information gathering to spark innovative ideas for his PR campaign, but to snoop around and see if he could discover who was behind the sabotage.
He was just cocky enough to think he might succeed where law enforcement and hospital security had failed. People didn’t open up to cops and security guards. On that score, his charm stood him in good stead. He had no trouble coaxing people into spilling their secrets.
Idly, he wondered what secrets Julie DeMarco hid behind those sweet, guileless blue eyes. He’d discovered that everyone had secrets, even the most innocent.
Sebastian was deep in the middle of his media campaign plan when his computer played a snippet from the Bond movie theme song “For Your Eyes Only,” letting him know he had an instant message from Blanche.
He flicked a switch and turned on his Internet camera for a video conference. Blanche was sitting at her desk, looking prim and proper in a double-breasted fawn-colored suit, her iron-gray curls perfectly coiffed.
“How’s Austin?” she asked.
“Fine. Watcha still doing at the office?”
“Just finishing up. I’m on my way out the door. I thought I’d check on you. See if you needed anything.”
“You work too hard.”
“Pot. Kettle. Black.”
“Ah, but I play just as hard as I work. You don’t play, dear Blanche.”
Blanche gave him a Mona Lisa smile. “You think you know me so well.”
“Come on,” he said, suddenly realizing that other than his brother, Blanche was his only real friend. He spent too much time in hotel rooms just like this one. It was pretty sad when you were a thirty-year-old guy and your best friend was a fiftysomething grandmother. Maybe he did work too hard. “If you had a social life you wouldn’t be at the office at eight at night.”
“You don’t know what I’m doing here. Perhaps I have a suitor and I’m showing him my desk.”
“Are you?” Sebastian lifted an eyebrow.
“I’ll never tell.”
“So what’s up?”
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right. Linc told me he’s quitting and that he and Keeley are getting married. How do you feel about that?”
Sebastian shrugged. “I feel fine.”
“Liar.”
“Okay, you want the truth? I think Linc’s making a big mistake,” he said.
“He loves her. She loves him.”
“They’re wrong for each other.”
“How do you know?”
“They’re total opposites.”
“Opposites attract.”
He thought of Julie, laughed and shook his head.
“Oh,” Blanche said. “I see.”
“See what?”
“What’s her name?”
“Her? What are you talking about?”
“You’re already penning another new name in your little black book.”
“I’m not,” he denied, wondering how in the hell Blanche knew him so well.
She tilted her head. “You’re working on it.”
“What can I say,” he confessed. “I love women.”
Sebastian did love women. They fascinated him. With their potions and perfumes that smelled so good. From their soft skin, to the delicate underside of their throats. And the way their minds worked, so mysterious and unpredictable.
The opposite sex mesmerized him. Tall ones, short ones, plump ones, thin ones, dark ones, light ones. He loved them all. It was the reason he couldn’t choose just one. There were simply too many wonderful ladies walking about the world.
“Maybe you should consider backing off,” Blanche said.
“What?”
“You rush into courtships.”
Courtships? He grinned. Blanche was so old-fashioned. He found it endearing. “Hey, I’m usually only in town a short time. If I didn’t rush, I wouldn’t get anywhere.”
“And then just as quickly, you rush out of them. You’ll never get married like that.”
“You know I’m not interested in marriage.”
“I know you say you’re not interested in marriage,” Blanche said. “I think it’s that you haven’t met the right woman. When you do, everything will change and then you’ll finally understand about your brother and Keeley.”
The truth was he didn’t want to understand. “Yeah? Well, if you know so much about men and women and love, how come you’re single?”
Blanche straightened in her chair, making herself look even more prim than usual. “I’ve had my great love affair, Sebastian. No one else could ever compare to Edward, so there’s no point searching. He’s gone. I’m a grandmother, which keeps me happy enough, and I’ve got you to look after.”
“Now see,” Sebastian said. “If I did something stupid like fall in love and get married, then you wouldn’t have anyone to take care of. How could I ever do that to you?”
Blanche’s opinion came out in a snort. He’d gotten quite accustomed to the expressive sound and it made him smile. “Good night, Sebastian. Call me if you need anything.”
“Sleep tight, Blanche.”
She turned off her computer camera and that was the end of the conversation. Sebastian finished up his work and logged off. He kicked off his shoes and flopped onto the bed, hands cupped behind his head. His thoughts trailed to Julie.
He couldn’t figure out what it was about her that appealed to him so much. She was cute, sure. And he loved her curvy, compact body. Just thinking about touching her had him growing hard. He wanted her…oh, yeah.
But he had a nagging feeling she was a forever kind of woman and that simply wasn’t what he was looking for. He thought about calling her up, canceling their luncheon appointment, but then he realized it was almost midnight.
Why was he so confused about what he wanted from her? He was normally very decisive. In that exam room he’d decided he was going to seduce her. But after talking to Blanche, he was feeling…
What was he feeling?
Sebastian pushed the thought away. Blanche loved messing with his head. He wasn’t going to let her get to him. He did know what he wanted and he was going after it.
A nice little fling with Julie DeMarco.

SO THEY THOUGHT they could hire a spin doctor to solve Confidential Rejuvenations’ image problems, eh?
Fools.
The hospital saboteur rummaged through the file on the cocky Mr. Sebastian Black. He was a good-looking devil. No question about it. With his lush dark hair and straight white teeth. Veneers, no doubt.
And from the curriculum vitae the saboteur had found on Dr. Butler’s desk, Sebastian Black ran one of the most sought-after, privately owned PR firms in the country. His clients included important movers and shakers in the entertainment industry.
Mr. Black, the saboteur had discovered, had quite a reputation as a ladies’man. The saboteur chuckled. Such a man would be so easy to manipulate.
What a wickedly wonderful turn of events that he was interested in Julie DeMarco.
That woman needed to be taught a lesson. Shamelessly sleeping with a married man. Was nothing sacred anymore? DeMarco deserved to get her heart broken by a notorious playboy like Black and the saboteur was in a special position to make that heartbreak happen.
The plan was brilliant. Use public relations to turn the tables on the PR expert. Anticipation—and revenge—was a glorious dish to be savored.
JULIE WAS SO NERVOUS she could scarcely breathe. She hadn’t been on a date since she’d sent Roger packing.
It’s not a date, she told herself. It’s an interview in a public place. There will be lots of people around.
Moistening her lips to quell her nervousness, Julie sat in her white Honda Civic outside the Sushi Palace a half mile from Confidential Rejuvenations. She was early. It was only eleven-forty but she’d been too keyed up to stay at home.
Her shift started at two-thirty and she had her scrubs folded in the backseat, along with her pink nursing clogs and a pink stethoscope. It would have been more convenient to meet him already dressed in her scrub uniform, but Julie wanted Sebastian to see what she looked like in street clothes.
She’d spent almost an hour getting ready. The entire time, she’d kept asking herself whether Sebastian Black was really the rebound guy she wanted after Roger. Or, if she was being honest with herself, could she admit he was really too much for her to handle?
That was the question she was here to answer.
After a phone consultation with Vanessa and Elle, she’d dressed sexily, but not too vampish, considering it was a luncheon date. Straight-legged black slacks, black zippered fashion boots with three-inch heels to give her five-foot-three stature a boost and a pink-and-white-striped angora sweater. She used her curling iron on her hair and it hung low down her back in soft, feminine ringlets.
This was exactly what she needed—a temporary tryst with a man who knew his way around a woman’s body. A man who could take the lead and teach her what she needed to know.
That was her secret. When it came to sex, she really didn’t know what she was doing. Failing her qualifying exam to become a sex therapist was proof enough of her inadequacies.
Before Roger, she’d had only one other lover—her college biology professor, Phillip Gregory. She’d given him her virginity and he’d given her an A-plus for the semester and then he’d dumped her. Phillip had broken her nineteen-year-old heart and damaged her self-esteem, but she’d never stopped looking for love.
Now, she was almost thirty years old and she could count on both hands the number of times she’d had sex. Three times with Phillip. Seven times with Roger.
Pathetic.
It was this damned starry-eyed romanticism instilled in her by her mother. The promise of happily-ever-after. The dream of the one perfect guy who made your life complete. Her mother had believed it and look where it had gotten her. Married to her soul mate, but then widowed at fifty-four with a teenage daughter to raise.
Julie had to ask herself if that’s why she’d been attracted to both Roger and Phillip. Had she simply been searching for a father figure? Her dad had died when she was fourteen. Had her lovers represented the masculine guidance she’d lost and longed for?
What a cliché.
Julie peered at herself in the rearview mirror and was startled to see how sexy she looked. Her curls had defied the curling iron and resorted to their usual wild tumble, giving her a just-rolled-out-of-bed appearance. Suddenly, her lipstick seemed too red, her mascara too thickly applied, the V-neck of her sweater revealing too much cleavage.
Well, that was the point, wasn’t it? To start something with Sebastian Black. Learn a few tricks. Push her sexual boundaries with a no-strings-attached affair? Get past the number Roger and Phillip had done on her self-confidence. Become more accomplished at lovemaking so she didn’t get so embarrassed in therapy sessions when the patients revealed their colorful romantic escapades.
Nervously, she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. What was she doing here? What made her think Sebastian Black could cure her romanticism?
A zippy red sports car pulled into the parking lot and she knew before she ever saw his face that Sebastian was behind the wheel. He killed the engine and hopped from the lowslung German-engineered automobile looking as if he’d stepped off the cover of People magazine. Tall, broad shouldered, lean hipped. Sexy as hell.
You’re in over your head. This guy will eat you alive.
It was, she had to admit, a very delicious thought.
Sebastian clutched a black leather briefcase in his hand and he headed for the door of the restaurant with purposeful, ground-chewing strides. He wore a tailor-made gray business suit with a lavender shirt and an avant-garde grape-and-gold tie. Not many men could pull off lavender, but on him, it was a power color, accenting his tanned skin and dark, intelligent eyes. Modern young executive on the go.
He was exquisite.
And he was everything she’d trained herself not to want. Handsome beyond belief. Smooth as silk. The kind of guy you just knew would take your breath away and leave you gasping for oxygen. She’d always gone for substance over style. For older steady men who promised security.
Yeah. And look where that got you.
It was all she could do to keep from starting her car, driving away and thanking her lucky stars she’d escaped unscathed.
But despite her alarm, something pushed her forward. Her craving for knowledge and sexual experimentation was stronger than her fear of getting hurt. She could do this. She could seduce him, enjoy him and keep the relationship strictly casual. He was only in town for a short time. He was perfect.
She put her hand on the door handle, opened it and stepped out into the parking lot. Sebastian had already gone inside. Determined, she headed into the restaurant.
The hostess, a pretty, dark-haired woman in a red kimono with green dragons imprinted into the silk fabric, greeted her in the foyer. “One for lunch?”
“Actually,” she said, “I’m meeting someone.”
Just then, Sebastian walked up behind the hostess. He’d been watching for her. His grin widened as if he’d just won the Powerball lottery. The eager expression on his face went a long way toward bolstering her courage and tamping down her fear.
He made a low noise of masculine appreciation as he came closer. “Wow, check you out.”
Slowly, he raked his gaze from the top of her head, down the low-cut V of her angora sweater, to the snug-fitting, straight-legged slacks to her high-heeled black stiletto boots and back again. The look was so intense, Julie gulped and folded her fingernails into her palms to steady her nerves.
An electrical charge passed between them. A silent understanding. His dark eyes smoldered with a sexuality that stole her breath.
He was unfairly handsome. No guy should look so good. It was annoying that every female in the place was darting surreptitious glances in his direction.
To his credit, his focus was only on her. He made her feel special and that made her suspicious. Why was he trying so hard?
Julie inhaled sharply, desperate for air.
Sebastian extended his hand.
The moment their palms touched the hostess disappeared. The restaurant ceased to exist. Time evaporated. She was aware of nothing except Sebastian. No man had ever looked at her in quite that way before.
Oh, he’s good.
He was very, very good at making her feel special. Julie told herself it was his job. He was a PR expert. It wasn’t personal. She would not let it go to her head.
Old habits died hard. She was a natural-born romantic and going against her tendencies would not come easy.
He dropped her hand at last and the spell was broken.
She inhaled raggedly, her gaze still welded to his. Every hair on his head was in place. He wore his tailored suit as if it was an extension of his body. He had the most gorgeous mouth. Full, but not too big. She licked her own lips.
“You ready to get down to business?”
She blinked. “Huh?”
“The interview?”
“Oh, yes. Absolutely.” She tapped her forehead. “Anything you need.”
“Anything?” He grinned rakishly and his gaze took another trip over the length of her body.
Don’t blush, don’t blush.
Too late. Her cheeks heated.
Terrific. She was blushing. Giving herself away. Why did she have to be so fair? Why couldn’t she have taken after her father’s side of the family, with his Italian heritage, instead of her Swedish mother?
“Our table is this way.” With a proprietary touch that both excited and bothered her, he took her elbow and guided her to the back of the restaurant.
Her heart rate soared as she caught a whiff of his scent. He smelled of cool sage and a startling twist of hot nutmeg. She had an urge to nibble the flesh of his earlobe and see if he tasted as good as he smelled.
A physical reaction ignited inside her. It was as if all her glands—pineal, adrenal, pituitary, parotid—were functioning overtime, all secreting at maximum capacity. Saliva filled her mouth. Epinephrine sped through her bloodstream. Heat suffused her pelvis. She was a walking chemistry lab.
The sudden desire unsettled her. This wicked lick of unexpected sensory pleasure.
There were no other diners in their immediate area. A nosegay of purple and peach orchids rested in the center of the table and she was surprised to see a card beside the flowers with her name on them.
“The flowers are for me?”
“To thank you,” he said. “For agreeing to let me interview you. Go ahead. Open the card.”
Her fingers were damp against the matte finish of the envelope. She slipped the note out.
To ensure you never confuse me with anyone else again, Sebastian.
She didn’t have the courage to look at him directly. “The flowers weren’t necessary.”
“You don’t like them.”
“I’m overwhelmed. How did you know they’re my favorite flowers and my favorite colors?”
“I asked around.”
The fact he’d taken the time to ask around about her was flattering. “Th-thank you,” she stammered.
“You’re welcome.” He pulled her chair out for her. His warm breath feathered the hairs along the nape of her neck. She tried not to be impressed with his courtly manners. He knew all the tricks to set a woman’s heart pattering.
Careful.
Her self-esteem couldn’t survive another mistake courtesy of the male species.

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