Plain Jane's Plan. Kara Lennox

she’d given him plenty of time to make himself decent, she doused herself with perfume guaranteed to drive any man wild, grabbed her tiny evening bag, and opened the door, walking with as much sensuous grace as she could manage.

      Apparently, that wasn’t very much, because the first thing she did when she entered the living area was trip.

      Somehow, Jeff caught her before she hit the carpet face first. “Whoa. You all right?”

      Just dying of embarrassment. “Fine, fine. New shoes. I’m not used to them.”

      He inspected her four-inch heels, then tsked at her. “Do you know how many women I’ve had in my office who have sprained their ankles wearing ridiculous shoes like that?”

      “Don’t lecture me, Jeff. I happen to like these shoes. Anne picked them out for me.” She figured mentioning Anne couldn’t hurt, since she was only slightly less revered than a saint in the Hardison family.

      “I’ll have to have a talk with her.” He sneezed. “Are you wearing perfume?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “I think I’m allergic. What is that stuff?”

      She would die before she admitted it was something called Seduction. “Mmm, I don’t remember.”

      “Could you tone it down a little? I have to hang out with you all night.”

      Her face burning, Allison retreated to the bathroom. So, he thought hanging out with her was a chore, did he? She swiped her wrists, behind her ears, and between her breasts with a damp washcloth. The beast! He hadn’t even noticed her dress, which had cost her two root canals and one crown. It was a sexy little black thing with a plunging neckline and no back and a hem much higher up her thigh than she’d ever worn before. And he hadn’t said a word.

      She said nothing as they rode down the elevator together. She wished he didn’t look so damn handsome in his suit. She wished she could find something wrong with his appearance—some evidence that he was turning prematurely gray or thickening around the middle. But no such luck. He was more handsome than ever, and at the moment she hated him.

      As soon as they arrived at the reception, which was packed with conventioneers eager to take advantage of the complimentary hors d’oeuvres, she excused herself to the rest room. In the ladies’ lounge, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Anne’s number.

      “Allison? What are you doing calling me? You’re supposed to be seducing Jeff.”

      “It’s not working. He said my shoes were stupid, my perfume stinks—”

      “What about the dress?”

      “It could have been a potato sack for all he noticed. I might as well be a piece of furniture.”

      “Why don’t you pretend to trip and let him catch—”

      “Been there, done that. He patted me on the shoulder like I was a golden retriever.”

      “This calls for drastic action. You’ve got to shake that boy up—but good.”

      “How?” Allison wailed. “I’ve tried everything.”

      “I bet you haven’t kissed him.”

      Chapter Three

      I bet you haven’t kissed him.

      Yeah, right, Allison thought as she minced her way back to the ballroom in her high heels. What was she supposed to do, just grab him and put a lip lock on him? Just give him a big ol’ long-time-nosee kiss, like Sherry had wanted to do?

      A woman like Sherry could get away with such behavior. If Allison tried it, though, Jeff would probably have her committed. Allison shook her head. She needed a plan, but a full frontal assault wasn’t it.

      Allison didn’t immediately spot Jeff when she returned to the ballroom, which made her a bit uneasy. She wasn’t a social butterfly, certainly no good at making small talk with strangers. She usually did her best imitation of wallpaper at these receptions and beat a hasty retreat as soon as she’d scammed some free hors d’oeuvres.

      She was about to decide to do just that when she spotted Sherry, wearing a black halter dress with a plunging neckline. Allison supposed she ought to find her “fiancé” and live up to her end of the bad deal she’d made.

      Maybe he’d gone to get them drinks at one of the crowded bars set up at either end of the ballroom. But a quick tour of lines of conventioneers waiting to order their beverage of choice didn’t turn him up.

      She was starting to feel a bit piqued that Jeff hadn’t stayed where she’d left him. She reconsidered her urge to flee to the room and order room service, never mind they were supposed to go out to dinner at Antares, when a group of three men walked straight up to her.

      “Allison?” the tallest one greeted her.

      “Yes? Oh, Tom, how nice to see you again,” she said, recovering quickly as she recalled his name. He was a dermatologist from Cincinnati with wavy black hair and killer brown eyes. She’d played match-stick poker with him in the lobby last year.

      “I almost didn’t recognize you. You’ve…changed something.”

      “I’ve changed everything,” she said with a laugh, gratified that at least this man had noticed. “Whole new lifestyle.”

      “You look great.” Those velvety brown eyes held hers just a trifle too long before he introduced her to his two friends, also dermatologists.

      The two friends, Greg and Ian, practically elbowed each other to shake her hand first. Then they all stood in a semicircle around her and showered her with compliments and all kinds of attention.

      Allison was overwhelmed. These men were flirting with her, and she hadn’t done a thing. Two other men wandered over, friends of Ian drawn in by the laughter. Allison did her best not to act like the shrinking violet she wanted to be, matching joke for joke, asking questions of the men to deflect attention away from herself. After a few minutes she forgot to be nervous and found she was actually enjoying herself.

      This had never happened to her before. Normally, if she was included in a group of people, it was on the fringes, listening and maybe laughing, but never saying much, and certainly not the center of attention.

      Was this phenomenon a result of her change in appearance? Or had the changes she’d made caused her to project more outward confidence?

      “So, would you like to join me for dinner?” Tom asked. “Greg and Ian have plans with their wives, so I’m…at loose ends.”

      Allison, caught up in the flirtation, was on the verge of saying yes. Tom was a charmer. But a masculine voice behind her saved her the trouble of answering.

      “She has plans.”

      Allison whirled around to see Jeff standing behind her, his usually pleasant face darkened with a scowl. He slid a possessive arm around her waist, obviously laying claim to his territory.

      She cleared her throat. “Tom, I’m sure you remember Jeff Hardison. We’re from the same—”

      “We’re engaged,” Jeff said, relaxing slightly as he shook the other men’s hands. “I promised Allison dinner at Antares.”

      Tom took a step back. “Well, congratulations, you two. I guess I’ll have to make other plans myself.” The rest of the men slithered away until Jeff and Allison stood alone.

      Allison couldn’t think of a thing to say.

      “Our reservation is at seven-thirty,” Jeff said tightly. “We’d better go.”

      As they stood outside the hotel waiting for the valet to bring Jeff’s car around, Allison finally found her tongue. “That was pretty rude.”

      Jeff immediately relaxed, a smile forming on