HandsOn (8 page)

Then they’d spent hours talking. About everything, from her
work to his, to the differences in the male and female mind as it related to
sexuality.

The fact he was so interested in her work and her thought
processes made her smile. He was definitely different than any other man she’d
ever known.

His shirt was strewn over his laptop and notes. She picked
up the t-shirt and held it to her nose, inhaling the scent so unique to him.
With a sigh, she added it to the pile of clothes she was going to wash, then
began to tidy up his folders. One fell to the floor and she hurriedly picked up
the contents to jam them inside.

But her name on the notes caught her eye. She scanned them
quickly, feeling equal parts of guilt and curiosity. Really, she shouldn’t be
doing this. Then again, why was her name in his notes for
Total Man Magazine
?
The article he’d written about her and the masturbation-a-thon had already gone
to the publisher.

Lara flopped onto the sofa, her heart racing as she read
what he’d written. It was an outline for a series of articles for the magazine,
with them as co-authors. They’d take a subject and he would write a man’s
viewpoint and she would write a woman’s. The feature would run monthly.

Holy hell!

She stood, file folder in hand, and walked into the bedroom.

“Mark, wake up.”

He groaned.

“Mark!”

She ignored his perfect body, including his prominent
erection when he rolled over onto his back. Blinking one eye open, he smiled at
her. “Mornin.”

“Don’t you
mornin’
me. What is this?” She tossed the
file folder onto the bed next to him.

With a yawn, Mark leaned up on one elbow and peered at the
file.

Then his eyes widened. He looked up at her and she read the
guilt on his face.

“You’ve got some explaining to do, Mark.”

Chapter Eight

He was busted. Now what was he going to do? His mind wasn’t
coherent enough to come up with a pack of lies. “I can explain this.”

“Then I suggest you get started.” She crossed her arms and
stared down at him.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and sat up. “It’s not what
you think.”

“You have no idea what I think. Now tell me about those
notes.”

The tight tone in her voice told him she wasn’t too damn
happy about finding the outline. Visions of huge paychecks from
TMM
disappeared like a mirage in the desert. He was fucked, and not in a good way.

Best thing to do was to come clean about the whole thing and
be done with it. “I’m sorry, Lara. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.”

“I’ll get my things and leave. I’m really sorry.” Funny
thing was, he meant that. He shouldn’t have manipulated her this way. It had
been a really stupid idea and he should have just come right out and been
honest with her from the start, then lived with whatever her answer was.

He scanned the room for his clothes, hoping she wouldn’t
throw him out naked.

“Leaving? Why are you leaving?”

“Uh, isn’t that what you want me to do?”

She sat on the bed and organized the papers in the file
folder. “Of course not. I want to know more about this idea of yours.”

Was there anything she did that didn’t knock him on his ass
with shock? “You do?”

“Yes.” She looked down, her cheeks darkening that sexy coral
color. “I’m…flattered.”

“Huh?”

Her gaze met his, those guileless green eyes making him feel
guiltier by the second.

“I said I’m flattered. I wish you had discussed your plan with
me, but still, the fact you want to co-author a feature with me every month is
quite a compliment.”

Following her train of thought, he said, “I hope so. You
are
special. And I was going to talk to you about it. It’s just that when we
started talking about a few subjects, I got this idea and wanted to jot down
some notes. I intended to ask you for your okay before I presented it to
TMM
.”

“So, are we going to talk about it now?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Of course. Granted, if I didn’t know you as well as I do I
would never even think about writing for a magazine like
TMM
. But since
I do know you, and you did think of me when planning the articles, I suppose
it’s a good idea. The opportunity to reach so many male readers with some of my
ideas is too good to pass up. I’m honored that you thought of me.”

His plan had worked. Hook, line and sinker. She was his,
she’d agreed. He should be ecstatic. Instead, he felt lower than dirt.

They ate breakfast, discussed the articles, and Lara
excitedly shooed him away for the day so she could get started on the first
month’s subject matter.

After he left her house, he drove around for about an hour,
feeling worse with every passing second.

Never having been one for scruples in the past, he sure as
hell picked a fine time to develop some. This wasn’t the first time he’d
manipulated a subject to get what he wanted.

But Lara wasn’t just any subject. She was special. She’d
been honest and forthright with him from the beginning. He’d been underhanded
and played dirty, manipulating her innocence in the worst possible way.

He was a bastard. And worse, a lying bastard. She deserved
so much better.

She deserved a genuine, honest guy who wouldn’t lie to and
manipulate her. Someone who’d appreciate her intelligence, her humor, her
passion, the way she gave one hundred and ten percent of herself to a
relationship.

Relationship. That’s what Lara thought she was having with
him right now. An honest give and take, learning about each other. Even working
together.

The excitement of writing for
TMM
had lost all its
appeal. Eventually he’d have to tell Lara the truth. And once he did, his
career with
TMM
would be over.

His relationship with Lara would be over.

And that hurt. Holy shit, that hurt!

Had he done something even worse than lying to Lara? Had he
finally gotten caught in the trap that he swore he’d never get caught in?

Had he fallen in love?

No way. He didn’t fall in love. He was too cynical, too
damned busy, too focused on his career to let feelings for a woman sidetrack
him from his goals.

Certainly it had never happened before.

And no way in hell was he going to let it happen now.

He was a user. Sometimes being a reporter meant people got
hurt. It had never bothered him before, so why now?

Because it was Lara he was hurting. And like it or not, she
mattered to him.

Fuck! No, she didn’t. He wouldn’t let her matter to him.
He’d use her, do their articles as long as he could, and once he’d proved to
TMM
he was a great writer, they’d never let him go.

Of course once that happened, she’d dump him.

Wasn’t that what he wanted? Cut all ties so he could be
free?

That’s exactly what he wanted. Except the thought of being
without her made his gut ache in a way that had nothing to do with guilt and a
helluva lot to do with his heart.

Yeah right. He had no heart. Just look at what he planned to
do to her. Use her, then cast her aside.

“You are one great fuckin’ prize, Whitman,” he muttered to
himself. She’d hate him when this was over.

Right now, he wasn’t too damned fond of himself, either.

* * * * *

Lara grinned as she put the finishing touches on her part of
the article.

Something about this felt so right. They were joined
together both in work and in play.

Plus, she was giddy as hell and floating on air most of the
time. Okay, all the time.

She loved him. How it happened, she couldn’t say, but she
knew for a certainty that she’d fallen head over heels in love with Mark
Whitman.

And he had to feel something for her, too. He was still
here. He hadn’t gone back to New York after his family reunion. Instead, he had
all but moved into her place.

In the past few weeks they’d written four articles for the
magazine. More than that, they’d talked. They’d discussed. Even argued,
although she preferred to think of it as debating a subject.

And of course, they’d made love. Lots and lots of love, each
time more passionate and filled with tender emotion.

He’d surprised the hell out of her. Frankly, she’d surprised
the hell out of herself, too. After the disastrous relationships in her past,
she’d never thought she’d be able to trust a man enough to really let loose.

But with Mark, she held nothing back.

Now the big test. To tell him how she felt about him. And
hope he didn’t run like hell in the opposite direction. But they’d been honest
with each other so far. It was only fair that she tell him she was in love with
him.

* * * * *

Mark had to tell her. Guilt stabbed at him, every day
getting worse and worse. He had to tell Lara the truth.

As much as he’d wanted to run away from his own truth, it
stared at him every time he looked in the mirror.

He was a prick. A prick in love with a perfect woman.

Confession time. And once he confessed, he’d beg her
forgiveness and ask her for another chance. Because he wanted this relationship
with her, as strange and scary as these feelings were.

Sucking in a breath of fortitude, he knocked on her door.

Lara opened it, grinning. “We’ve got to get you a key. No
point in knocking, you practically live here anyway.”

Pang, pang, pang went the guilt in his stomach. “Good idea.”

“I poured some wine. You want some?”

Yeah, a whole bottle. With a straw
. “Sure.”

He followed her into the kitchen, never tiring of the sexy
sway of her hips. Even dressed in faded gray gym shorts and a skimpy little
tank top, she exuded sexuality.

And so completely unaware of it, too. That’s what made her
so different than any other woman he’d known.

She handed him a glass, then sat at the table with him. “I
finished my portion of the last article. Did you send in the first one yet?”

Bang, bang, bang. Remorse burned like a fire-breathing
dragon now. “Yeah. Few days ago.”

“Any feedback yet?”

“No.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Well, dammit, I’m dying to know what
your editor thinks.”

“They typically don’t respond unless there’s something that
needs to be changed. If it’s good-to-go as is, he’ll just run it.”

“Oh. Well, see how much I have to learn about the magazine
business?”

Yeah. She had a lot to learn all right. Like how to be a
lying prick and manipulate your way to the top. He could teach her about that.
He was a goddamned expert at it. “You’re doing fine.”

“Good.”

Silence permeated the room. Mark fought for the right way to
broach the subject of what he’d done.

“Mark, I have something to tell you.”

Good opening. “Okay. I have something I’d like to tell you,
too.”

Her eyes sparkled with her grin. “Wouldn’t it be funny if we
had the same thing to say to each other?”

Not a chance of that happening. “Yeah.”

“Okay, give me a minute. I’m a mess here from cooking and I
need to clean up a bit and change clothes. I’ll be right back and then we can
talk.”

He nodded, pondering his glass of wine and wishing he could
crawl into the bottle right now and pull a cork over his head.

Hiding out didn’t seem to be an option. As soon as she came
back he was telling her the truth.

* * * * *

Lara fussed with her hair and straightened the slinky little
skirt and top, hoping it would have the desired effect.

Not bad for a dowdy professor. Tight black skirt, equally
body-hugging spandex tube top. If anyone had told her a month ago she’d be
dressed this way and about to tell a guy she was in love with him, she would
have certified them as insane.

Then again, maybe she was the insane one.

She stood in front of the mirror. Okay, not bad. She might
not be a fashion model, but she’d get a rise out of him.

The phone rang just as she was leaving the bedroom. She
picked it up, annoyed that whoever was calling was interrupting her confession
of love to Mark.

“Doctor Lara McKenzie?”

Lara didn’t recognize the gruff voice on the other end of
the line. “Yes?”

“This is Jonathan Smitz with
Total Man Magazine
.”

“Oh, hello, Jonathan! I’m so glad to finally be able to talk
to you!”

He laughed. “Me, too. I just wanted to thank you for
agreeing to do the articles with Mark.”

“It was my pleasure.”

“See? I told him it wouldn’t be hard to convince you. And he
said you’d be a tough sell. It sure ended up easier than he thought it was
going to be.”

“Excuse me?”

Jonathan continued, laughter in his voice. “Well, he did say
he’d have to get you to fall in love with him before you’d agree to write for
our magazine. Glad to know he didn’t have to resort to such drastic measures.”

Lara’s hand trembled and she fought for control of the
telephone. “Fall in love with him?”

Jonathan’s chuckle reverberated through her nerve endings.
“Yeah. Hey, I told him to do whatever it took to get you on board. Glad to know
our boy is so persuasive.”

She felt sick. Whatever it took? No. She hadn’t heard
correctly. It couldn’t be. Mark wouldn’t do that to her. He was different than
the other men she’d known. He had to be. His feelings were genuine.

“Anyway, I called to talk to you about your contract with
TMM
.”

His voice was nothing more than a buzz in her ears. “I…I
have to go, Jonathan. Nice talking to you.”

Jonathan started to say something else, but Lara hung up,
then plopped onto the bed. Despite the July heat, her entire body chilled.

She closed her eyes and fought back tears. Tears of
stupidity that she quickly swiped away.

Humiliation burned in her throat and traveled down into her
stomach. Mark had been using her. Using her! The idea to write the articles
didn’t happen after he’d gotten to know her. He’d come back here with the
express purpose of getting her to agree to co-write with him.

He wanted something from her. Ulterior motives. Just like
before. She hadn’t grown any smarter in the ways of men and relationships. In
fact, this one was worse than the first time.

Someone should stamp
gullible
in the middle of her
forehead. Although it seemed she already wore it like a neon sign, probably
emblazoned on her dumb ass.

How could he do this to her? She thought he cared about her,
thought maybe he even loved her. If it didn’t hurt so damn bad she’d laugh
about that part.

She wasn’t loveable. Never had been, never would be. She
wasn’t meant to have relationships. She should have stayed with Bob. At least
Bob wouldn’t have hurt her.

A desire to crawl under the covers and curl up into a ball
of denial was nearly overpowering. But Mark still sat in her kitchen.

She had to get him out of her house.

Out of her life.

Out of her heart.

Right now.

Fighting for control, she smoothed her hair back and walked
into the kitchen. Mark turned to her with a smile on his face.

His smile died.

“What’s wrong?”

“That was your editor on the phone.”

“Jonathan?”

“Yes.”

A wary look crossed his face. “What did he want?”

She stepped around him and leaned against the counter,
refusing to go anywhere near him. “Oh, he just wanted to commend you for
blindsiding me so brilliantly.”

He paled and swallowed, hard. “What do you mean?”

“I mean he told me, Mark. Told me you would have done
anything to get me to agree to do those articles.”