Suddenly Sexy (3 page)

Linda grinned. "Whatever you say, Mad."

***

Sam hadn't expected to enjoy the dinner party as much as he did. Although he'd been looking forward to catching up with Pete and Linda, he wasn't sure if reminiscing over mis-spent youth would be a good idea. Turned out to be the best thing he'd done since quitting as CEO of National Paints. That, and arriving back in Melbourne to consider his future.

But he would have enjoyed himself anyway, even if Pete and Linda had turned into the dullest people this side of the Great Dividing Range. Their kids were a laugh a minute. David had wanted to know if there were aliens in Sydney, Emily had made up stories involving her carrots as characters, and Ronan had found wearing his food more entertaining than eating it.

And then there was Maddie. Having her there gave the innocent dinner party an entirely new meaning.

Since when did scientists get so sexy?

Since when did
Maddie
get so sexy?

She'd always been cute, with her button nose, innocent brown eyes and luxurious black curls that she insisted on trapping in a tight pony tail, but now she'd moved beyond cute. She was a woman. And wow, what a woman. The slightly plump teenager had turned into Cinderella with curves to die for.

According to Linda, she was single. He couldn't figure out why. Beautiful, intelligent women with a sense of humor were hard to come by. He should know. He'd been looking for a long time. Too long.

Maybe she'd go on a date with him. Nope, unlikely now. He'd ruined his chances when he'd implied her love potion was a little on the unethical side. He couldn't take that back and he couldn't change his opinion but he could shut up about it. No need to spoil the evening.

Emily came out of the kitchen and through the open door Sam caught a glimpse of Maddie eating ice cream straight from the tub. He smiled. At least some things never changed.

"Tham," said Emily, tugging his sleeve.

He smiled down at her. Emily had her mother's face but her eyes were just like her Aunt Maddie's—big and trusting. "Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You know my Auntie Mad?"

"Yes."

"Thee thinkth you're chunky."

Chunky? Sam frowned at her. "Are you sure that's what she said?"

Emily nodded solemnly.

"Oh." He glanced down at his waist. The shirt puckered where it was loosely tucked into his jeans. He flattened it. He sat up straighter, squaring his shoulders. Better. He sucked in his stomach but that made breathing difficult so he let it out again before he turned blue.

Chunky? He'd never been called that before. He jogged every morning and ate a balanced diet. Maybe it wasn't enough. Maybe he should go to the health farm that T.J. Hopkins, National Paints' Director of Marketing, visited last year. It had worked for T.J. Sort of. He still needed to lose several more pounds to be considered slim but at least he no longer thought vegetables were invented to make a steak taste good.

"What do you think that means?" he asked Pete who was pulling funny faces at Ronan to get him to laugh and open his mouth.

"I have no idea," Pete said. "Maybe she's referring to your muscles. You're not as skinny as you used to be."

He was about to ask Pete whether Maddie preferred thin or large men, tall or short, when the two sisters emerged from the kitchen. Linda placed two bowls of chocolate ice cream in front of David and Emily.

"Where's mine?" asked Pete.

"If he's having some then so am I," Maddie declared. "Sam?"

"Maybe I shouldn't. Unless it's low fat."

"Low fat?" she said with disdain. With a shake of her head, she disappeared back into the kitchen.

So much for good impressions.

The following morning, Maddie drove to BioDerma's lab, located in a technology park in Melbourne's outer suburbs. The brick building, built in the Eighties, was just like every other brick building in the so-called park—boxy, brown and boring. Maddie had never liked it, but it had become her home away from home since she spent most of her days, and some of her nights, there.

She shared her office and one of the small labs with Beaker, her partner. Beaker's side of the office was like his life—messy. Unsteady piles of papers threatened to topple off his desk at the slightest nudge and colored sticky notes decorated his computer monitor. He claimed the notes were color coded but Maddie couldn't see any connection between "Pick up laundry" and "Press Ctl+Alt+Delete to shut down", both written on pink paper. She didn't dare ask. Beaker's head was probably as untidy as his desk and she preferred not to see inside it.

Maddie unpacked the sandwiches she'd made the night before and placed them in her desk drawer where they would sit until she took her lunch break at twelve-thirty. She switched on her computer and read her emails while sipping double strength instant coffee. Once the caffeine seeped into her system, she finally felt ready to face the day.

But for once she didn't immediately get up from her desk. Instead, she leaned back in her swivel chair and sighed. The image of a very sexy Sam Hennessy filtered into her thoughts and wouldn't budge. Damn, he was hot. Dark, brooding good looks with buns and biceps of steel. And those electric blue eyes that promised wickedness. A girl could lose her senses, and a few items of clothing, with one long look into those depths.

"Ready?"

She jumped out of her seat and bumped her desk, sending the pencil holder toppling and the pencils rolling onto the floor. She bent to pick them up. "You startled me, Beaker."

"Sorry, I thought you'd seen me, considering you were staring straight at me."

She'd been staring at the doorway, but damned if she'd noticed him. Her mind had been several suburbs away. She returned her pens to the left section of the holder and her pencils to the right then lined up the erasers and sharpener. Beaker shifted from foot to foot but said nothing.

"Okay, let's go," she said, smoothing her skirt. She followed him down the corridor to the lab, focusing on the back of his head. Beaker's haircut could best be described as a short back and sides, with a tuft on top. Like the Muppet he'd been nicknamed after, the tuft shot straight up as if he'd stuck his finger in an electrical socket. She wondered if he spent hours every morning gelling it into shape or whether it was nature's way of warning others about the danger of electricity.

They passed Miles in the corridor. Their boss grunted something which Maddie interpreted as "Good morning". It was the best they'd get out of him at eight-thirty. He needed at least three more cups of coffee in his system before civility made an appearance.

In the stark whiteness of the lab, Beaker tapped the wire cage of Fred the lab mouse. Fred paused in his running, twitched his nose in what looked like annoyance, then continued on his merry way around the wheel, going nowhere.

"He looks ready," Beaker said.

Maddie watched Fred's little legs pumping away in a blur of movement. "I think he's ready for something, but I'm not sure about love."

"No man is ever ready for love. It hits him like a speeding bus."

She winced. "Painful. And kind of messy."

Beaker sighed. "Sure is."

Maddie didn't pry. She didn't want to know about Beaker's love life. She preferred to keep work separate from her private life. Except for that one time she and Miles had dated over three years ago, she never mixed the two. Considering she spent so much time at work, that probably explained why her love life was out of sync with her life schedule.

She retrieved a vial containing the latest version of Pheramour. Last week they'd added a small amount of ylang ylang to the solution and today they were ready to trial it on Fred and Wilma.

Maddie dipped a dropper into the clear substance and watched it get sucked up the tube. She grinned at Beaker who grinned back, and held her breath as she squeezed four drops onto Fred's furry body. The little white mouse stopped running, looked up at them, twitched his nose a few times in indignation then returned to his running.

Beaker opened the mouse cage beside Fred's. "Ready Wilma?"

She didn't look ready. She looked like she wanted to scamper away, but Beaker clutched her lovingly to his lab coat while Maddie dispensed four drops onto her back. When he placed her into the cage with Fred, the two mice sniffed at each other then Fred continued his running. Wilma retreated to a corner and rested her beady gaze on him. Probably she thought all that running was a sign her new roommate was crazy.

Maddie didn't blame her. She ran every second day on a treadmill and sometimes she thought it would drive her to insanity. It was boring and the scenery was the same but at least she had a nice butt to show for it. One day, someone would finally get to see her nice butt and all the hard work would be worth it.

"I don't think it's working," said Beaker, tapping the cage.

"Give them time." But Maddie wasn't holding out much hope. She knew lust when she saw it, and Wilma wasn't showing the signs. "Maybe they just need to get used to each other first."

Beaker chuckled. "Maybe we should get some candles and play soft music."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. "We could give them a piece of cheese. That way when they share it, they'll get nice and cozy." She studied the mice. "Or they might just scratch each others eyes out."

"You're so unromantic."

"If you'd dated the guys I have, you'd understand that romance is a figment of a masochist's imagination." She straightened with a loud sigh. "Looks like it's back to the drawing board.

She hated this part. They'd been so sure this time. The preliminary trials had been positive and all the chemical reactions had worked according to cutting edge pheromone theory. They'd carefully tested chemical with chemical, essential oil with essential oil, noting down the reactions, re-testing, changing ingredients until every permutation had been analyzed. After several months, Maddie was certain they'd reached the right balance to create a synthetic pheromone that made the wearers more attractive to the opposite sex. They'd left nothing to chance.

"Maybe we wrote down the wrong figures somewhere," said Beaker, running a hand through hair that didn't need any more encouragement to stand up.

"We did
not
write down the wrong figures. I'd never make a mistake like that." But as she said it, she opened her notebook and scanned the calculations. "I don't understand. It couldn't possibly have failed."

"Hey, Maddie!" Beaker's voice was high and squeaky with excitement. "Check this out."

Her gaze followed his pointing finger. Inside the mouse cage, Fred had stopped running long enough to sniff Wilma's rump.

"Must be love," he said.

She grinned. "Typical man. Straight to the end where all the action is."

***

Maddie delivered her report to Miles at five-thirty.

"How'd it go?" asked her boss.

Miles was only in his mid-thirties but he'd leapt to the position of Director of Development quickly. His skills as a chemist had been average, but his ability to kiss the right behinds had singled him out for a management role early in his career. He'd been Maddie's boss for two years and in all that time she'd never known him to smile. He'd cracked a lame joke once. No one had laughed and he'd never attempted it again. Before he was her boss, he'd been okay, although their one date had been disastrous from the moment he said "Let's go bowling."

"Great," said Maddie cheerfully, sitting on the other side of his desk. "Wilma and Fred are showing all the signs of being two mice in love. If all goes well, we'll start human trials later this month."

Miles shook his head. "We need to start sooner. I need results, Maddie." He passed a hand over shadowed eyes.

"It takes time, Miles, you know that. We need to observe Fred and Wilma's behavior for at least three weeks before we trial it on humans."

He tapped his pen on the desk. "Look, here's the thing." The tapping grew faster and Maddie sat on her hands to stop herself snatching the pen off him. "I need to give the Marketing Director at Fleur Elise something on Tuesday. She's coming to visit and she's made it clear she expects to see results."

"But today's Friday! No way. That's too soon. We need to thoroughly test the reaction between the mice over the next two weeks at least, and document every aspect of their behavior, otherwise—"

"I know, Maddie, I know." He slouched back in his leather chair. The dark circles under his eyes made it look as if he'd partied hard all night. But Maddie knew he wasn't the partying kind. He sat perfectly still, which was dangerous for Miles. Since his promotion, he'd developed every nervous habit going around. He fidgeted in meetings, played with his hair, his glasses, his tie, his pen. When his fingers didn't move, it meant something was wrong.

"Miles, we haven't got anything to show yet. Apart from two horny mice, that is. We need to trial it on people—"

"Then find some."

"Miles—"

"Maddie, listen. I shouldn't tell you this, but I think you need to understand the importance of Pheramour. This contract with Fleur Elise is vital to the survival of BioDerma. If we can't show progress by Tuesday, they're going to pull the pin. Where that leaves BioDerma..." He shrugged.

Maddie squeezed the bridge of her nose, feeling a headache coming on. A big one. She really didn't want to do this. They should follow every procedure to the letter, analyze and re-analyze every observation, every result. Skipping steps could lead to disaster. It went against not just her training but her very fiber. She was not the sort of person to leave out a vital part of the process.

She chewed her lip and focused on Miles' face. He was tired, sure, but there was desperation in his eyes. This job, this company, meant everything to him. As far as she knew, he had no family in Melbourne, no friends outside BioDerma and no hobbies. If the company went under...well, she didn’t want to contemplate what might happen to Miles.

Still, allowing procedures to slip went against every instinct. Instincts that had served her well in the past. She never went for the long shot, never took risks to reach a goal sooner. She'd always done things correctly, never cutting corners, and she'd reaped the benefits of that philosophy so far. She was team leader for this project, in charge of five other scientists. After its completion, she hoped to move to a more senior level, then after six years in that role, she calculated she'd have enough experience behind her to do Miles' job.

But Miles was a determined man, but his haggard, vulnerable look tore at her. Poor Miles. He needed a break.

She sighed. "I don't
think
there are any dangerous side effects."

"Good. It's settled then. You can start tonight."

"Tonight? But, but there’s too much to do! I need to organize volunteers—"

"Do we need volunteers?" Miles leaned forward, picked up his pen again and drummed it on his desk. "Perhaps you and Beaker could do it."

Whoa. That went against every grain of her scientist's being. She and Beaker had a vested interest in Pheramour and might subconsciously skew the results in their favor. They needed to remain objective throughout the trials if they wanted to be sure Pheramour worked.

"BioDerma needs this, Maddie. Your career and that of your colleagues needs this." The look he gave her could have been straight off a tissue commercial. "Please."

Damn. Damn, damn and crap. He was right. For the sake of her staff she had to go ahead with human trials. Now. Otherwise all their jobs were on the line. There just wasn't any time to form a trial group. Since she'd already broken one rule by agreeing to proceed without further tests, why not another?

Next she’d be robbing banks.

"I guess that would be okay," she conceded.

The grin looked unnatural on Miles' face, but she was glad to see it. "Great. Let me know how it goes."

She returned to the lab but Beaker and the others had already left for the weekend. That left only her and she hadn't planned to see any men tonight, or tomorrow and Sunday for that matter.

Maybe she could call someone...

Why did Sam's perfect face and even more perfect body spring to mind? She
could
call him. At least she'd know for sure if Pheramour worked. He wasn't the sort of man who'd usually be interested in a boring scientist so any extra attention he gave her would be a positive indicator.

She filled a container with some Pheramour, sealed it tightly and placed it in her briefcase. She closed the lab door with a loud sigh. She really didn't want to do this. They should have waited.

But she had no choice. She didn't want to be unemployed. There weren't many jobs for scientists in Melbourne, let alone Australia. Although she might find something quickly, her inexperienced junior colleagues probably wouldn't be as lucky.

By the time she'd reached her car in the parking lot, Maddie had considered all the positives and negatives. The pros outweighed the cons but not by much.

She'd do it, and Sam would have to be her subject. She didn't particularly want to hang out in singles bars, nor did she want to create problems with her ex-boyfriends. Any more problems, that is. No point stirring up old emotions that could lead to trouble on completion of the trial.

If Pheramour worked—and she was reasonably confident it did—Sam would instantly lose any attraction to her when she stopped using it. He'd probably be relieved to find out it was just an experiment and not his real emotions. Men like him don't want to fall for one woman, especially a nerdy woman.

And
she
wasn't likely to fall under
his
spell. As a teenager, yes, but not as an adult. She was much too mature now for the likes of Sam Hennessy.