Virtually Perfect. Samantha Hunter

must not have bought the stomachache defense. Oh well.

      “No, no arguing. But I was barely able to eat because I had to keep stopping him from mauling me under the table at the restaurant. He couldn’t even hold a conversation. Everything—and I do mean everything, had to come back to sex. And it wasn’t just talk, he has hands like an octopus. So, when we got back to my place, I pretended I had to throw up to escape the good-night grope. Or worse, him wanting to come in.”

      “Hey, that’s a new one! I don’t know if he bought your excuse though.”

      “Yeah, well, whatever. I have a whole repertoire of techniques to get away from men at the end of dates. I’ll scratch that one off my list.”

      “Maybe you should be thinking about things to do to get them into bed at the end of dates.”

      Raine snorted. “All I would have to do to get Jerry into bed is breathe. There’s no point.”

      Gwen’s jaw dropped in shock. “Wow, you really have forgotten, haven’t you? Jerry aside, orgasms are the point, girlie!”

      Raine sipped her coffee and muttered over the top of her cup, “Really? I’ve never known a man who thought so.”

      She turned and headed back to her office. Gwen followed, slipping into Raine’s office before she could close the door.

      “Gwen, really, I have work…”

      “Whoa—hold on. Are you trying to say you have never, you know—that you haven’t had…”

      “An orgasm. Yes, I have. Plenty. Just not with a guy.” She sighed. “They haven’t got the faintest clue. I mean, I don’t want to have to tell someone what to do. Women shouldn’t have to come with an instruction booklet.”

      “You should use that line in a column. Clever.” Gwen grinned.

      “Yeah, right. Sometimes I wish I was a lesbian, maybe a woman would be better at it. That’s my curse—I’m stuck with men.”

      Gwen sighed and dropped down in the cushy chair in the corner of the office, ignoring the impatient looks Raine was sending her way. When Gwen was intent on a visit, there just was no stopping her.

      “Oh now, it’ll happen one of these days. But geez, I can’t believe you are what…thirty-two?” She ignored the glare Raine shot at her. “And you haven’t had one tiny tingle with a guy? I guess I can see why you don’t want to bother anymore, but you know you have to keep on trying. Sitting at home in front of your computer certainly isn’t going to help things any.”

      “I never should have told you about that. Let’s just drop it. That whole thing is coming back to bite me in the butt now, big-time.”

      “Why? Are things going downhill? Is the prince turning into a frog?”

      Raine sighed and knew Gwen would not go away, and she would not be able to get any work done until she dealt with it.

      “No. I don’t know. Rider’s getting too pushy, so I ended it. I wanted it over with.” She sat back, staring out the window at the dark gray clouds forming in the sky over the shops lining Pickering Wharf’s crescent-shaped streets. “But, Duane, in his ultimate wisdom, doesn’t want it over with. He says the article won’t fly unless I ‘see it through.’”

      She screwed up her eyes and did a shabby Duane imitation on the last three words. “But I don’t want to see it through. I want to see it over.”

      “Why? The computer guy sounds hot from everything you’ve said.”

      “Yeah, well, he wants to meet, and I don’t want to—end of story.”

      Gwen pursed her lips and considered that for a few seconds. “Maybe you should meet him.”

      “Are you in cahoots with Duane? Why on earth would I want to do that?”

      “Maybe he would be the one to, you know…”

      “Gwen, it can’t all be about that. And most likely, it wouldn’t happen. Hot online and hot in real life are two entirely different things. Besides, my luck isn’t exactly good lately.”

      “How can you know that until you meet him? You two seem to have such chemistry. I talk to lots of people online, you know I have all my pagan discussion groups, and we have a good time, but it’s not like anything you have been describing.”

      Raine sighed. “Well, yeah, I didn’t count on it, it just happened. If we meet, all of that chemistry could go up in smoke.”

      “So then, what do you have to lose?”

      “Now you sound just like him.”

      “Well, you know, I don’t think you should just dismiss it. You don’t have to get serious, but you can, you know, just take him for a test drive, so to speak. All in the name of research.” Gwen’s naughty grin almost had Raine’s own lips twitching.

      “Not my style, Gwen, you know that. I’m tired of test drives. I think I am just going to take a break from men for a while.”

      “You have been on a break from men for about ten years, by the sound of it. You need a man—a real one—who can flip your lid, so…”

      “…to speak, yeah, I got it, Gwen. Stop.”

      The warning tone made Gwen sigh and shake her head at Raine. Raine watched her pop up from the chair and felt a twinge of envy. Gwen was intelligent, quirky and an annoyingly eternal optimist.

      As the main health and fitness writer for the magazine, Gwen had a body that wouldn’t quit and a lively attitude that drew everyone to her. She and Raine should not have been compatible at all, but they’d become very close over the past few years. Gwen changed her hair color weekly; right now it was platinum-blond with some red and green streaks for the holidays. Thanksgiving had just passed and Christmas was only a month away. Gwen was all sparkly. Raine supposed Gwen made everyone who came into contact with her feel a little sparkly, too.

      Today she was slinking around in snug black leggings and a fitted black sweater. She wore at least a dozen silver pentacle earrings and little jingle bells on the toes of her short, stylish boots. It didn’t surprise Raine one bit that Gwen mixed her Wiccan jewelry with her Christmas decorations—Gwen celebrated everything—and at least the jingle let you know when she was coming.

      Men tripped over each other when Gwen walked by, not that she noticed. Love ’em and if it’s good, love ’em some more and see what happens was Gwen’s philosophy. She just tripped through life and “trusted the universe”—as she was always advising Raine to do. And she was a good friend. Suddenly Raine felt like queen bitch. Expelling a heavy breath, she tried to make nice.

      “Gwen, I’m sorry, I’m just frustrated with Duane and this whole article thing and I want to get it over with and—”

      “No problem, sweetie. I have to get back to work, too. Oh crikey—he’s coming this way!”

      “Who?”

      “Clark!”

      Raine puzzled for a moment and then saw Jack Harris appear in the doorway. He would make a lousy Clark Kent was her first thought. His hair was not black, but more of a chest-nutty auburn, and his eyes were not blue, but brown. He had a good build: tall, lanky, muscular and thin. Like a cowboy.

      She frowned; he wasn’t dressed for the office. True, the magazine had a fairly relaxed dress code, but Raine valued a professional appearance. Jack did not look very professional in tight jeans and a black cotton, button-up shirt. His hair was a little too long, curling around the collar a bit; he needed a haircut, she thought. No, he did not resemble Superman one single bit. He said something but she missed it, and blinked at him, returning to the moment.

      “Hmm?”

      “I need to look at your computer. It will only take a few minutes.”

      “Why?”