“Is McDaniels behaving himself?”

  Kate swallowed, miserable she was the one having rampantly improper thoughts. “Yes.”

  “Oh, he’s right there with you, isn’t he?”

  “Yes. Did you get a chance to swing by my place?”

  “Yeah, I stopped on the way home from our camping trip last night. Lenka seemed glad to see me, and all is well. I gave your fern a drink.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I saw Neil Powers this morning.”

  Her mind flew to the anonymous notes. “Oh? Did he mention anything…out of the ordinary?”

  “He asked about you and I told him you were out of town. Then he asked when you were coming back.” She made a cooing noise. “He seemed eager to see you.”

  Kate squirmed in her seat. “I’m looking forward to having dinner when I get back.” She darted a glance toward Eric and even though he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song on the radio, she was sure he was listening. “Look, I’d better go.” Before Lesley could plan an engagement party. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?” She disconnected the phone call and racked her brain for someone else to call—not her parents, unless she really wanted Eric to get an earful of her life.

  “Sounds like you’re missing out on something,” Eric remarked, nodding toward the phone.

  So he had been listening. She stared at his profile for a few seconds, fighting a flood of desire and the urge to laugh hysterically and declare that, in fact, she was missing out on a lot and that he could help her fix that right here and now. A second later, sanity returned. She was an independent, accomplished woman entrusted with her company’s revenue stream.

  “I’m not missing anything I can’t live without,” she returned, her tone more vehement than she intended. Then she pulled out her notepad, determined that the drive to Jacksonville would be productive. “So, like I said, tell me about Lincoln Toys.”

  By focusing on work with laser concentration, she was able to push thoughts of Eric to the recesses of her mind and get through the day and through dinner. On impulse, she invited the Lincoln Toys buyer and store manager—both men—to dine with them, removing temptation to steer the conversation into personal territory. She felt Eric’s gaze on her throughout the meal, but she studiously avoided all but courteous eye contact. When the meal ended, to avoid a private moment with Eric, she excused herself from the group and escaped to her room. After a quick shower, she prepared a cup of herbal tea and booted up her laptop to access her e-mail. When she saw a note in her electronic in-box from FoolforYou, her pulse picked up.

  Kate,

  If I tell you what I do for a living, I’ll give away my identity. Suffice it to say that I work in a professional environment and there are occasions for our paths to cross. And yes, I live in the Birmingham area. I’m not too familiar with NASCAR, but I am willing to learn. My vice, if you can call it that, is fantasy. I read fantasy fiction and graphic novels, and I’ve tried my hand at illustration. I hope this doesn’t make you uncomfortable, but you’ve been the topic of more than one fantasy of mine.

  Fool for You

  A little thrill passed over her, which might have had something to do with the fact that she’d been in hyper-sex mode all day in proximity to Eric.

  So Neil Powers was into the fantasy genre? The thought of him drawing her as a buxom, leather-clad femme fatale was more amusing than titillating, but a woman who worked in the toy business could do worse than hook up with a man who liked fantasy. Besides, it might grow on her.

  Fully aware that their correspondence was on the verge of veering into a much more personal realm, Kate placed her hands on the keyboard. She could put on the brakes, play coy or barrel ahead.

  As her fingers hovered over the keys, a knock sounded at her door, and she pivoted her head, frowning. She pushed to her feet and padded to the door, drawing the belt on her white cotton robe tighter as she looked through the peephole.

  At the sight of intense blue eyes and deep dimples, she sucked in a sharp breath. What was Eric doing here?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Looking foolish does the spirit good.

  —John Updike

  ANOTHER KNOCK sounded at the door, causing her to jump. “Kate, it’s me, Eric. Open up.”

  Kate checked to make sure the long robe covered her, knotted the belt again, then smoothed a hand over her damp hair and opened the door. “Yes?”

  He straightened and his gaze swept from her hair to her bare feet. “Oh…I…wow.”

  She couldn’t help it—she was female. A tickle of pleasure traveled up her spine. Still, she crossed her arms and maintained a staid expression. “Eric, what do you want?”

  She wanted the words back as soon as they left her mouth, but they were already out there to be responded to or to be ignored. And Eric wasn’t the kind of man to let something slip by.

  He wet his lips and adopted a wide-legged stance. “Gee, Kate, I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to say what I want right now.”

  She swallowed, terrified of the little bolts of awareness traveling over her body. She wished he would laugh or crack a joke. Eric was easier to deal with when he was acting a fool than when he was the way he looked now—eyes hooded with passion, lips parted and hands poised to touch her. He was waiting for her to make the next move, and she knew from his elevated breathing that he’d be happy to spend the night in her bed.

  And then what? She blinked and dragged in a cleansing breath. “Eric, what are you doing here?”

  He averted his gaze, knowing the moment had passed, and then he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a credit card. “You left your card at the restaurant. After our guests left, I walked back past the restaurant, and the maître d’ stopped me. He thought that we were…together.”

  She took the card. “Thank you, but you could have slipped it under my door.”

  “I wasn’t sure this was your room.”

  “You could have asked at the front desk.”

  One side of his mouth lifted. “I guess I wanted to see for myself.” He craned to look past her into her room. “Checking your e-mail?”

  At this distance, he couldn’t possibly see the words on the screen, but Kate was jumpy all the same. “Catching up on work, that’s all.”

  He made a tsking noise. “You know what they say about all work and no play.”

  “Makes Jane a vice president?” Kate asked, her head angled.

  He smiled and pointed his finger. “That’s pretty good. Did I ever tell you that you’re the best-looking boss I’ve ever had?”

  She squinted. “Are you drunk?”

  “Can’t I pay you a compliment without being drunk?”

  “Sure, but since all of your bosses at Handley have been middle-aged balding men, I’m not so sure it’s a compliment.”

  “Trust me, I meant it as a compliment.”

  She laughed. “Trust you? I lost count of the people in the hotel who came by our table tonight to recount some practical joke you’d pulled.”

  He shrugged. “I’m a legend.”

  She shook her head and scoffed. “I’ll see you in the morning, Legend.”

  “Oh, that was the other thing—I came to tell you that I’ll be playing golf with the Lincoln guys tomorrow. Jacksonville is a great place, so I’m sure you’ll find something interesting to do.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure I will, too. I’ll be rounding out your foursome.”

  His eyes widened. “You play golf?”

  “Occasionally. What time are we meeting?”

  “Eight o’clock in the lobby,” he said with obvious reluctance, then frowned. “But you’ll have to play from the men’s tees.”

  “Good,” she said with a little smile. “I always do.”

  The look on his face was so priceless, she almost hated to close the door on it. Just before he disappeared from view, he said, “Kate?”

  She relented and swung the door open a foot.

  He leaned in. “Tell me again why we can’t do this,” he said, pointing his finger back and forth between them.

  His mouth was close enough to smell on his breath the musky red wine they’d shared at dinner. Her senses stirred and her body strained toward him. She held on to the door for strength. “The fact that you have to ask is pretty much reason in itself, don’t you think? Good night, Eric.”

  She closed the door and turned the dead bolt, then leaned against the door until her vital signs slowed. That man was going to be the death of her.

  Across the room, her computer screen glowed.

  Her mood buoyed. Unless she found another man first.

  She reclaimed her seat in front of the laptop, then began to type.

  Fool,

  Your hobbies piqued my interest, but we’ll have to meet face-to-face to discuss them more fully. I’m eager to explore the diversions we have in common. When can we meet?

  K

  The note was more daring than she’d meant it to be and no doubt was influenced by her feelings toward Eric, but she hit the send button anyway. A few seconds later she felt oddly deflated and even though she settled in a chair to read, she kept glancing toward the door, remembering Eric standing there, teasing her, almost daring her to let him in. She only hoped that her raging libido wasn’t as obvious to him as it felt to her.

  She puffed her cheeks out in frustration and laid back her head. Then she thought of tomorrow and smiled. Eric might have the edge when it came to sex appeal, but she could hold her own on the golf course.

  ERIC WATCHED with mixed feelings as Kate walked up to the tee. When he and the other men had claimed a handicap of ten and she’d chimed in the same, he had guffawed. But she had persisted, probably because she felt as if she couldn’t back down at that point. And even though he wouldn’t mind seeing her make a fool of herself, watching an over-confident golfer could be downright painful—not to mention dangerous if the person wasn’t careful with their shots. But as his boss assumed her stance, he took in her snug khaki-colored shorts and long, brown legs and conceded that the scenery wasn’t half bad. Then he pursed his mouth—actually her stance and grip looked pretty decent, too.

  When she started her backswing, he had the first inkling that he’d been had. Her swing was picture perfect and, according to the ping of the club hitting the ball, she’d found the sweet spot on the driver she’d rented at the pro shop. He watched the ball climb and climb, then he yanked off his sunglasses to get a better look. When the ball dropped in the middle of the fairway, he couldn’t believe his eyes. “That’s a two-hundred-and-fifty-yard drive,” he muttered.

  Shep Lightly and Tom Atlas from Lincoln Toys turned on him. “Damn it, McDaniels, is this another one of your practical jokes?”

  “You made us think she’s your boss, but she’s some kind of golf pro, right?”

  He held up his hands. “Whoa, boys, she really is my boss.”

  Shep started back to the golf cart. “Yeah, right.”

  Tom was behind Shep. “McDaniels, I’ve had about enough of your gags—”

  “Gentlemen,” Kate said behind them.

  They all turned.

  A little smile played over her mouth. “This joke’s on Eric. I am his boss, but he didn’t know that I played on the University of Alabama’s golf team when I was in college.”

  The men perked up instantly. “You don’t say?”

  Eric gave her a murderous glare. “I guess you forgot to mention that little detail, boss.” The scrap of doubt he’d harbored about carrying on with the practical joke that he and Winston had planned vanished.

  The men howled with laughter. “Well, it’s about time someone got one on McDaniels,” Shep said, coming back to Eric and slapping him on the back. Tom picked up his driver and shook Kate’s hand, then asked for pointers when he assumed his own stance.

  Eric and Shep were standing in the tee box about ten feet behind them. “Damn,” Shep whispered, “she’s a smart dame, a knockout and she can play golf. Will she marry me?”

  Eric scowled.

  And the day went downhill from there. Kate moved like a graceful athlete, turning heads at every hole with her perfect putt and her perfect butt. Distracted as hell and feeling pressured to be on his best game, Eric hooked and sliced his way to one of his worst scores in recent history. Meanwhile, Kate, Shep and Tom shot their handicaps and seemed to have a rollicking good time in the process. Not only that, Kate had managed to pick their brains about licensing older-brand toys for children’s books and comics. She was…perfect. And Eric wanted to wrap his driver around something.

  He gritted his way through lunch and listened while Kate charmed Shep and Tom into expanding their book program throughout the seven Florida locations. “Your demographics indicate an older customer—grandparents shopping for grandchildren—and those customers will buy more traditional products such as books. We just signed an agreement to distribute Weeping Willow books—and at least three more Weeping Willow movies will be released in the next two years. We think the franchise will be a gold mine for stores like yours.”

  The men didn’t know what hit them. And the more Eric watched Kate, he was feeling as though something had hit him. His moods around Kate vacillated between wanting to teach her a lesson to wanting to touch her all over. Friday night found him lying in bed in his boxers, trying to think of ways he might accomplish both at the same time. Leaving Handley to go work for Mixxo was looking like a better decision all the time. He would never be able to work for Kate when every time he looked at her, all he could think about was how much he would like to see her with her clothes off.

  A few days ago, he would have thought that if he’d given John Handley an ultimatum—either Kate goes, or he goes—the old man would have chosen him. But after seeing Kate in action for only a couple of days, he could see that she was more valuable to Handley Toys than he was. He was a hack salesman with a good product, and salesmen were a dime a dozen.

  He looked around the hotel room, almost unidentifiable from the thousands of other hotel rooms he’d stayed in during his career. Many mornings he had opened the drawer of the nightstand to glance at the phone book to remind him what city he was in. Lately, being on the road appealed to him less and less. One of the attractive qualities of the Mixxo job was a more concentrated territory that would have him crossing fewer time zones.

  Wow, had Kate ever trounced him on the golf course today. His ego still smarted when he thought about the men ribbing him, saying he should get his boss to give him some pointers on how to keep his head down when he swung. From the smug smile on Kate’s face, she had enjoyed every minute.

  He smiled now. She certainly couldn’t cry foul when her correspondence with a secret admirer was exposed. He was sure that’s what she’d been doing last night when he’d stopped by her room to return the credit card, but it was killing him not knowing for sure. He reached for his cell phone and called Winston again. When his friend’s voice mail kicked on, he said, “Hey, man, it’s Eric. I was calling to see how the joke is going and if you-know-who is taking the bait. Call me when you get a chance.”

  At least tomorrow would be a no-brainer—he and Kate would be attending a regional electronics show to check out competitors’ products. Electronics was his forte, so he would be on solid ground. Unless Kate wore something incredibly sexy, like a burlap sack.

  He frowned wryly—or unless she had a robotics degree that she’d forgotten to mention.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Nothing fools people as much as extreme passion.

  —Bishop Hall

  KATE CLOSED HER EYES and touched her tender eyelids.

  “Are you okay?” Eric asked.

  She opened her eyes wide and nodded. “My eyes are just tired, and I have a touch of a headache.” She gestured vaguely to the overwhelming display of elaborate booths, some of them enormous and fitted with enough flashing lights and robotic arms to rival a Hollywood movie set. “So much to look at, I suppose.”

  “It’s been a long day,” Eric said. “Why don’t we head back?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t want to keep you from doing what you need to do. I think I’ll try to find a bottle of cold water and sit down for a few minutes. I’ll meet you back here in say, an hour?”

  He glanced at his watch, then nodded. “That will give me time to see the last couple of people I need to meet with.” Then a wrinkle formed between his eyes. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

  Kate was touched by his uncharacteristic compassion and nodded. “I’ll be fine.” She turned and walked away toward the concessions area, wishing she’d worn more comfortable shoes and wondering where she might nab a couple of aspirin. A few minutes later she found a water vendor and a stiff plastic chair to sit in near the concession stands. She lowered herself to the chair, grateful for the break.

  Eric was relentless. The man was an electronics maniac, eager to try every new gadget and toy at every booth. It was really quite a marvel. The excitement on his face when he discovered something new or “cool” gave her more pleasure than seeing the product itself, and she marveled at the ease with which he interacted with other salespeople. Everyone, male and female, gravitated toward him. Seven hours in, though, her insoles were giving out and she’d had her fill of gadgets, gewgaws and wing-dings.

  Sipping the cool water, she wondered how much of her sudden restlessness had to do with the fact that she hadn’t heard from her e-mail admirer yesterday. Maybe her request to meet face-to-face had been too forward, too soon. Maybe she’d never hear from him again. Or maybe he’d simply been too busy to answer. Or maybe he was having computer problems.

  She didn’t want it to be over. She willed Neil Powers to keep their correspondence going because she was feeling a little desperate for any kind of distraction.

  She was starting to suspect that if her heart was left to its own devices, it would fall for Eric. Again. When she’d awakened this morning, the anticipation she’d felt at sharing the day with him went beyond normal boss-subordinate feelings. And when he’d walked into the lobby wearing chinos and a red shirt, her chest had swelled with appreciation—and she couldn’t attribute her enthusiasm to the Handley Toys emblem on the left pocket of his shirt.