Page 4 of Back in Black

“Guilty. But you see, on top of being elderly, I have five . . .” She paused for effect. “No, let’s make thatsixchildren.”

“You’re a terrible fibber.” He turned his head to study her waist in the snug skirt. “I’d put you at no more than thirty-three tops. And any idiot can see those are not the hips of a child-bearing woman.”

Brett gave a choking cough and made a point of looking at the ceiling.

“Hmmm.” Gillian leaned in closer to Drew. “Perhaps you’re right.” She gave him a quizzical frown. “But why ever do you think I’d lie about such things?”

“Modesty?”

She pursed her mouth as if in thought. “OrmaybeI stretched the truth to deliberately disqualify myself based on your list of suitable criteria. You know”—she waved a hand—“to avoid your personal interest.”

Drew got closer, too, so close she felt his breath on her lips. He stared at her mouth. “Ah. So you assumed I’d be personally interested, did you?”

“Accurately, it seems. After all, you did suggest certain things you’d like to do.”

“To you. Yeah.” His gaze locked on hers. “If you need more details, they involve you baring yourself and getting a little sweaty. So what do you say?”

Good Lord. The man showed no decorum at all. “Ummm . . . no. Afraid not.” For her own peace of mind, Gillian moved away from him again. “You were probably too hasty in sending away the enthusiastic groupies who, I’m sure, would have been much more accommodating.”

“But they didn’t interest me.” His appreciative attention held her captive. “They were too artificial for my tastes.”

“The laughs?” she guessed.

“The boobs.” He nodded toward her cleavage and smiled. “I like things a little more natural.”

Gillian fought a blush even as she felt defensive toward womankind. “I don’t see much difference between their breast implants and the bright red lipstick I’m wearing. Both are meant to make a woman more attractive.”

“Yeah, but one is surgery, and the other”—he closed the space between them to whisper—“can be licked off.”

Shocked at both his audacity and her innate response to it, Gillian straightened and pulled away.

The man had no shame, no sense of social boundaries!

She was out of her league, so she’d have to play it a little safer.

“Now don’t run off,” Drew said. He touched her wrist on the bar with a light fingertip. “Things were just getting interesting.”

Gillian shook her head. “You might be willing to bend your rules, but I’m afraid I’m not. And mixing business with pleasure is considered my number one no-no.”

Caution replaced some of his amusement. “Good thing we don’t have any business together then, huh?”

“But we do. That’s why I’m here.”

“What are you talking about?” His expression went from seductive to annoyed. “If we have business together, I sure as hell don’t know about it.”

“I’m here to inform you of it.” It was evil of her, but Gillian felt gleeful at the opportunity to set him straight. She put her shoulders back and smiled. “I’ve been hired as your new publicist slash handler, slash . . . well, miracle worker really. And I daresay that with a lot of hard work on your part as well as mine, I’ll succeed in transforming you into a man fit for polite society.”

Drew came to his feet. His face tightened and his brows came down. He didn’t shout, but, given his expression, he didn’t need to. “What the fuck are you talking about? I never hired a publicist.”

“Slash handler, slash miracle worker,” Gillian clarified again.

Brett pushed away from the bar. “Maybe I should give you two some room to talk.”

Sotto voce, Gillian said, “You may be right. It’ll be safer from across the room.”

Brett eyed her. “You don’t look worried.”

Lifting one shoulder, Gillian said, “I get paid the big bucks to tackle the tough jobs.” She swung her gaze back to lock on Drew’s. “And the owners of the Supreme Battle Challenge are very big payers.”

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