Mr. Right Next Door. Arlene James

woman of real substance.

      Not for the first time, Morgan wondered what kind of idiot would toss such a woman aside, as her ex obviously had done-her and their child. The thought boggled the mind. How had a woman like Denise, who was obviously extremely sensitive, even gotten involved with a man like that? But then who was he to ask such a question? He, too, had loved the wrong person. He, too, had paid a heavy price. Ah, but life was good now. Still, it could be better. He thought of the nights he went to bed alone and of the mornings when only the company of his dog kept every day from beginning in a gray funk. His hand warmed against her back as he pictured Denise in his bed, tousled and soft, a smile spreading across her luscious mouth as she opened her eyes to find him there. Oh, yes, he was going to enjoy playing his part tonight—and hope that it inspired her to allow him to turn pretense into reality.

      They strolled past various small, trendy shops and arrived at the entrance to the restaurant. They were greeted at once and led out into the maze of snowy white tablecloths and deep, comfortable chairs. Halfway across the room, Morgan slid his hand up to Denise’s shoulder, feeling the satiny warmth of her bare skin beneath the filmy fabric of her wrap. “Denise.”

      She did just what he wanted her to do. She checked her graceful stride and craned her head back over her shoulder to look at him. He bent his head to hers and gave her a quick wink, whispering, “I just wanted to tell you again how very beautiful you are. Now smile. Just as though I really were your boyfriend.”

      She did so, blindingly, and it took no effort at all to put the appropriate amount of heat in his gaze as he smiled back. He settled his arm about her waist and urged her forward again. She was practically glued to his side when they reached Dayton’s table. Both men immediately came to their feet. He knew which one was Chuck Dayton instantly. His smugness and not-quite-hidden irritation would have tipped Morgan off at any rate, but the covetous manner in which his gaze raked over Denise cinched it Gerald Baker, in comparison, was a forthright, plainspoken gentleman.

      “What a lovely young woman,” he said baldly, “and bright as sunlight, too, I’m told. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jenkins.”

      “Why, thank you,” Denise replied smoothly, then insisted that he call her by her given name as she lowered herself regally into the chair that Morgan held for her. She smiled up at him as she settled into place, and he let his gaze target her mouth, communicating his very real desire to kiss her, as much for her benefit as for Dayton’s.

      With the introductions made and the ice thoroughly broken, Morgan took his place at her side and immediately possessed himself of her hand, holding it lightly against his thigh. The small gesture did not escape Chuck Dayton, who had placed himself on Denise’s other side at the small round table. Talk was trivial and sporadic as drink orders were taken and menus were presented. Then, as they waited for the appetizer to arrive, Chuck knocked back two bourbons and firmly steered the conversation to business matters.

      Baker’s company wanted to upgrade their merchandise as well as their image. He wanted recommendations concerning what brands should be dropped and which should be sought as replacements, as well as detailed cost analyses for each change, and he wanted Denise to handle the job personally. She quickly nailed down exactly what information he sought and in what format he preferred it and gave him a delivery date that seemed not only to please him but to surprise him, as well. Then she went on to tell him exactly what figures and reports she would need from him before she could start. He promised to fax her everything that she required first thing Monday morning. They quickly negotiated a consultation fee to be appended to the contract he had recently negotiated with another of Chuck’s subordinates, and then Denise very coolly and very smoothly suggested that the fee might be waived if the contract, with its lucrative guarantee of minimum-order dollars, was extended to three years instead of one. It was obvious that the same idea had not occurred to Chuck and that it found great favor with both men. The deal was struck, and the business to which Chuck had wanted her to dedicate an entire night was concluded satisfactorily before the main course arrived.