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Authors: Jasmine Haynes

Hers for the Evening (14 page)

BOOK: Hers for the Evening
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“Naughty girl,” Isabel chided.

“It sounds crazy, but I’ll figure out when the cleaning crew is done, the auditors have cleared out for the weekend, and the place is completely empty. Late on a Saturday night.” She’d make sure nothing would go wrong. Isabel shook her head sadly, as if she thought Devon were delusional. “You know what they say about the best-laid plans.”

“I’ll check card key access for the last few weekends, and choose a time when the building is consistently empty.”

“It’s your neck.”

“No, it’s my fantasy.” She was aware it was near insanity, that it was risky, which made the idea even hotter. Yes, it seemed at odds with her desire for discretion and following company policy. Yet she was willing to take the chance to get what she needed. If she didn’t play it out the way she’d built her 93

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fantasies, she was afraid the obsession would go on. She had to purge Hunter from her system. Lying in bed last night, going over and over every detail, it seemed the only way.

If by some off chance she was caught, it would only be her at risk, not Hunter, not GDN. She was a lot more willing to risk herself to get what she needed than to jeopardize anyone else.

“All right.” Isabel stared at the picture. “I have a man in mind, his name is—”

Devon held up a finger, shushing her. “Don’t tell me his name. When he walks in, he is to be Hunter Nash. That’s what I’ll call him, that’s how he’ll refer to himself. He’s a CFO. He’s divorced. He has two children, a boy and a girl in their early teens. Everything he says has to fit with Hunter Nash.”

Isabel scoffed again, then quickly softened it with a smile. “You’re a freak.”

Devon laughed. “Yeah.”

“I’ll work on it. I can probably get the correct stats, but I’m not going to find his twin.”

“I realize that, but as with everything else you’ve done for me, you’ll do the best.”

Huffing out a breath, Isabel pointed at the abundant racks. “There’s not a damn thing here.”

“You’re not an off-the-rack kind of woman.”

Isabel bit her lip, still staring at the jumble of costumes. “I’m usually not. I guess I don’t care to impress. I was looking for quick and easy.”

“Quick and easy in costumes? Or men?”

“Both.”

“Do you need to talk, girlfriend?” Devon was there if Isabel needed it.

“He’s not worth talking about.”

Then why go out with him? Devon thought it, but didn’t ask. There was way more to this story and Devon suspected a whole lot of understating, but Isabel was a mystery until she wanted to reveal herself.

“Now help me find that perfect costume.”

Devon hoped in return Isabel would find her the perfect match.

BY WEDNESDAY, DEVON HAD IT ALL PLANNED OUT. SHE’D CHECKED card key access. The cleaning people came in on Sunday, not Saturday. On weekends, especially during audit time, people were in and out. Hunter tended 94

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to do Saturday mornings. No one had carded out or set the alarm any later than five thirty on a Saturday. If she could arrange it for this Saturday, it was Halloween with lots of parties or taking the kids out for trick or treating. Now she needed to hear from Isabel. It was four o’clock on Wednesday and she’d been carrying her private cell phone all day, practically to the ladies’ room, she was so anxious. Wrong word. Excited. She wanted this, needed it. She didn’t take most personal calls at work and she didn’t use her work phone for personal use, either, but she’d been feeling jumpy for days wanting to put her strategy into action.

It was planned, she was ready. All she needed was the right man. When the cell rang only five minutes later, she almost jumped. The displayed number: Isabel’s. Her desk facing the door, Devon glanced up to see where Robert, her admin, was. Outside her office at his desk, nearby to call through the open doorway if necessary, not close enough to eavesdrop.

“Devon Parker here,” she answered formally, as if it were a business call.

“You gave a tough order, darling, especially since you wanted to shoot for this Saturday.”

Devon swiveled her chair slightly. She didn’t want her voice carrying straight out the doorway. “Never too tough for you, Wonder Woman.”

Isabel gave that lovely tinkling laugh that always had men turning her way. “I should not have let you talk me into that costume.”

“It’s perfect. And you’ll find me someone equally as good.”

“Under the circumstances, I did pretty darn well, considering the enormity of the task. Funnily enough, the best choice is the man I originally thought of, but I didn’t want to shortchange you so I did some further scanning through the files.”

“I had no doubt you’d be thorough.” Devon shivered with anticipation.

“He’s an out-of-towner. Is that okay?”

“If he’s the right one for the task, I’m fine with that. Where from?”

“Seattle.” Courtesans’ headquarters was located in San Francisco, but Isabel maintained satellite offices in most major U.S. cities and hubs abroad, such as London, Paris, Amsterdam, and Frankfurt.

“The flight cost shouldn’t be too astronomical then.” As the client, it was Devon’s responsibility to pay for incidentals such as travel. To get what she wanted, the extra cost was worth it. “Book the best price possible, if you could.”

“I already have my T.A. working on it.” Isabel employed a full-time travel 95

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agent who got her clients the competitive fares and rates.

“He’ll need a car, too. I don’t want to pick him up. This needs to feel exactly as if—” She cut herself off, glancing past her door. No one paying attention. Though she should have closed it before she even answered. She’d almost said too much, catching her runaway mouth just in time.

“I’d thought of that. In order to have him pull off being your Hunter Nash, he’ll need access to the building.”

“I can’t give him . . .” She paused, weighing the best way to say it. “I’ll be at the entry. Once I return to the designated place, he can follow in five minutes.”

That didn’t sound untoward if anyone overheard.

“I’m going to need a write-up of all the details you want him to be aware of so he can fit them into his conversation.”

“I can do that. I’ll send you an e-mail tonight.” Devon didn’t intend to give away Hunter’s personal details, but she did want verisimilitude, enough to make the encounter seem real.

“What time do you want him to arrive on Saturday?”

“Nine p.m.” She crossed her legs, brushing off lint that had gathered on her skirt. “I’ll also send you details on how I want the scenario to play out.”

“I’ve never known a woman”—the smile in Isabel’s voice made it clearly across the airspace—“who plans out her fantasies to the nth degree the way you do.”

“It’s how I work and how I play,” Devon answered with a like smile. “But some improvisation from him is fine.”

“Your organization skills amaze me. I need to take lessons.”

“Hah,” Devon scoffed. “That’s the pot calling the kettle black.” Isabel was just as exacting.

“If you come up with anything else you want, add it to the e-mail.”

“Will do. And thanks.” Seriousness invaded her voice. “I really need this.”

“Yeah, and you’re going to pay a pretty penny for it, so you should get everything your little heart desires.”

Devon wasn’t extravagant. She had a decent car, a decent home in a decent neighborhood, a decent wardrobe, and when she ate out, she patronized decent restaurants. Nothing over the top, and thus, she had a very decent investment portfolio that she’d managed to keep above water despite the erratic markets. Her one extravagance was her sexual playtime. She didn’t indulge often, but 96

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when she did, she was determined to get exactly what she wanted and was willing to pay for it. “Call me if anything gets in the way.”

“Will do,” Isabel echoed her.

Disconnecting, she snapped the phone closed, turned once again to her desk and the folder on—

She almost shrieked. Good Lord, Hunter stood in her doorway. 97

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3

“I-I DIDN’T HEAR YOU,” DEVON STAMMERED. HOW LONG HAD HUNTER

been there? What the hell had she said? Her heart raced like a stampede of stallions in her chest.

He looked at her, his head cocked slightly with animal-like concentration.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“D-Did you want something?” She shot the words off too quickly, close to rudely, and dammit, she even stuttered again. She needed to get control of herself here. “Duh. Of course you did or you wouldn’t be here. More bad news from the auditors?”

Her blood still thrummed with adrenaline. Looking at him, breathing him in as he sauntered farther into her office, was like mainlining an aphrodisiac. Her body pulsed with need.

“I wanted to let you know Larry has signed off on Jenna’s overhead spreadsheet.” He stopped in front of her desk, but didn’t sit. She tipped her head back to look up at him. “Great.”

“Your explanation did the trick.”

Larry was a bit of a dope, his questions first-year accounting, a class she’d had to take as part of her business degree oh so many moons ago. The kid thought a big mouth made up for a lack of IQ. She had the feeling Jenna’s overhead calculations were only the first of many problems he was going to harp on before this audit was over. “Glad to help.”

Hunter’s perusal unnerved her, his gaze falling to her personal cell, then rising to her face. Silence usually didn’t bother her. She was always the one who could wait it out. Not so this time. “Anything else?”

“Yeah. The investors’ conference next month in Sedona. Are you attending?”

“I haven’t made my decision yet.” She’d been too busy planning her obsessive fantasy. Bad, very bad. She’d never allowed the personal to interfere with work before, not even during her messy divorce. “What are your thoughts on it?” she asked, giving herself time to regain her wits. Last year, this particular conference had been in New York and the cost for two executives was prohibitive, so Hunter had represented the company. The Sedona resort chosen for this year was quite reasonable, comparatively 98

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speaking, and the airfare into Flagstaff much cheaper even with a rental car. A couple of weekends before Thanksgiving, it wouldn’t interfere with the holidays, either. She usually spent the day with her parents in Monterey, and Hunter wouldn’t want anything getting in the way of seeing his kids. Hunter crossed his arms. “If we’re really going to consider doing that public offering late next year to finance the new enterprise system and capital equipment upgrades that Manufacturing says are critical, then you should put in an appearance.”

Glad-handing prospective investors was part of her job. Market conditions hadn’t been favorable for the last few quarters, but the outlook for next year was picking up. “All right. I’ll have Robert make the arrangements.”

“Makes sense to have him make mine as well and take advantage of the fee discount for multiple registrations.”

Her teeth wanted to chatter. Hunter, business trip, Sedona, her. It didn’t mix well. Too much time in a confined space with him, but she couldn’t say they needed to take separate flights and rent two cars. Really, her obsession was getting in the way of the job. Thank God she was taking drastic measures this weekend. “Sounds great. Can you forward him the details?”

“Sure.” Hunter didn’t turn, still towering over her desk.

“Anything else?” She moved her phone, picked up a pen, set it down, then grabbed the folder she’d originally been searching for when he entered. He eyed her. “You okay?”

“Of course.” Not. She picked up her pen again, clicked it once, twice.

“You seem . . . fidgety. I’ve never seen you fidget.”

“Don’t be silly.” Je-sus. Would the man ever leave? She barely managed not to drum her fingers on the desk.

“It was all fine with Garrison?”

“Yes, fine. That was last week.” She made a face. Finally, he backed away, holding up his hands. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

He turned, said something to Robert on the way out, probably about the conference.

He’d picked up on her signals. She’d communicated completely nonverbally that something was off. It was the shock of seeing him there. She told herself he couldn’t have gotten anything out of what she said. She’d been careful. Saturday night couldn’t come fast enough. She was too jittery and jumpy with 99

BOOK: Hers for the Evening
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