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was being set up by a power-hungry boss.
    But no—that was ridiculous. She knew Arianna DuBose, was a member of the Kiwanis Club with her and the local women executives’ networking group, too. She’d never seen Arianna be anything other than charming, articulate and beautifully dressed. And the woman was in a position of power already—so there was no need for her to backstab or get Machiavellian.
    Sayers was an educated white male of a certain age, with certain expectations. And he’d felt anger when a woman was promoted over him—plain and simple. It didn’t take her behavioral psych degree to figure that out.
    Why, then, did he seem to get along so well with the women in this room? Oh, lightbulb, Jane. They work for him. Not vice versa. It’s easy to be gracious when you’ve got the power. Satisfied, she stopped hitting her nose with her pen and capped it, ignoring the quirk of Sayers’s lips. Go ahead and smirk at me, you yutz. You’re not stumping me by this charming behavior. I’ve got you figured out.
    While he took in another report, she allowed herself to assess his looks again from the corner of her eye.
    Nice tapered waist. Long thighs. Solid, athletic-looking knees—no skinny knobs visible through the pants. So he probably had good legs, not chicken sticks. She peeked at the chest hair again, which was a bad idea, since it got her wondering about the broad chest underneath.
    Jane, get a hold of yourself! You cannot have a fantasy about the man right in front of him.
    Aw, but I’ve got such a good one, her libido whined. Listen: it involves a furry rug before a roaring fire on a cold, winter night…and he licks melted chocolate and marshmallows off your—
    Stop it! She noticed that she was again tapping on her nose with her pen. She recapped it for the second time. Usually she tapped on the earpiece of her glasses, but she’d been curiously reluctant to put them on in front of Dominic.
    He looked over at her and now both corners of his delectable mouth turned up.
    Trying to sucker me? Not a chance. She returned his gaze coolly and waited for the meeting to be over, which it soon was. Her stomach growled audibly as he turned to her.
    â€œCare for some lunch?”
    Should she go to lunch with him? She hesitated. Well, she could observe him further with other people. Why not? “Okay,” she said. “I just need to run to the ladies’ room first.”
    â€œGood thing,” Dominic responded.
    Good thing? Why would he possibly care that she took a tinkle? Bizarre man. Jane hitched the strap of her briefcase over her shoulder and marched down the hall to the relevant door. She availed herself of the amenities, still puzzling.
    It was when she went to wash her hands that she figured it out. Blue pen marks adorned her nose, making her look like a refugee from the Bic warrior tribe.
    She stared at them with growing mortification. How long had they been there? Why hadn’t one of the other six people in the room said something? And how was she going to get them off?
    Jane dropped her briefcase on the floor and went to town with the pink liquid soap and a brown paper towel, only succeeding in removing all the makeup from the lower half of her face. The pen marks, however, still remained.
    She might as well draw a mustache on her lip or add kitty whiskers. No wonder Dominic Sayers had smirked at her!
    The score between them was temporarily even, but she’d fix that—and him. There was no doubt in her mind, no doubt at all, about who was going to end up on top….

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    D OMINIC OBSERVED J ANE quizzically as they moved their trays through the salad buffet at a local restaurant. The skin on and around her nose seemed extremely…thick. And very…nonshiny. Powdered. But somehow red underneath. His deductive powers told him that she had scrubbed her skin vigorously and then applied almost an entire jar of makeup to the