The Seduction Plan (2 page)

She heard him mumble something behind her but couldn’t hear the words. Then he sat down next to her and waited while she continued to cry. She sobbed out all of her frustrations, her fears, the insecurity of what and how she was going to accomplish the next step in her life, unsure of exactly what that next step would even be. It was two years ago all over again. The day Drew had walked out on her had been particularly awful but this day easily made it into second place.

She had no idea how long she sat there and cried, but finally, the sobs seemed to wear down. With one more swipe, she used the napkin, the handkerchief completely drenched by now and discarded onto the table next to her. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head, closed her eyes. Then another deep breath. She started to feel a little more in control and she lifted her shoulders, attempting to release some of the tension that was tightening her muscles. One more deep breath, inhale, exhale, she commanded of her body.
The ritual still worked, she thought to herself and opened her eyes. Chapter 2

Wow! Her first thought as she looked across the table at the handsome man watching her was one of stunned, incredible awe.

The man sitting next to her bewildered her. He was huge! She had no idea how tall he was, but his shoulders were massive. Since he was leaning back in his chair and his suit jacket had fallen open, one arm braced against the empty chair to his left, she could see that the wide shoulders and obviously muscular chest tapered to a narrow waist and his long legs were stretched out in front of him, his ankles crossed over one another.

And he was gorgeous! Goodness, she had been crying for the past…who knows how long...while this handsome man sat there and waited? Good grief! How embarrassing!

Realizing that her mouth had been hanging open as she examined this stranger, she closed it abruptly and glanced away, embarrassed beyond anything to find herself in this awkward position. “Um….thank you,” she said finally, getting her mind to function. “I apologize for being so silly,” she got out and looked down at her hands, folding them in her lap and taking another deep breath.

“Don’t worry about the apology,” he said, his voice deep and velvety. He leaned forward and looked into her pretty, soft, blue eyes. “Tell me why you were crying. I’m sure its a fascinating story and I’m eager to hear it.”

Victor Davenport watched in fascination as the tiny, prim woman with beautiful eyes that showed her every thought and lips that were full and luscious, tried to pull herself together. The tears were still in her eyes and on her long, dark lashes, but she was valiantly fighting them now. He wasn’t sure which had caught his attention first, her cute, sexy little bottom in the prim, plaid skirt, or the curtain of long, brown hair that fell down her back, dancing around her as if she were some sort of mermaid out of the water.

It was odd, he thought to himself as he watched the emotions flit across her features, he usually hated when women cried. It was irritating and he’d never allowed it in his presence, knowing that it was more than likely a ploy to manipulate him into buying the woman some jewelry or some other expensive trinket. But this woman’s tears were sincere and since she’d been walking out of his building, he considered her his personal responsibility at the moment.

Not to mention she was beautiful. He liked women, thought they were lovely little butterflies and interesting as long as they suited his needs. He respected women in the work place but liked them even more in his bed. At least, the lovely ones. And this one was definitely a looker.

He wasn’t sure about her figure since it was covered in the primmest outfit he’d seen in years. The red and black plaid wool skirt ended at her knees and had a coordinating red cardigan sweater covering a neat, white turtleneck shirt. The pearl necklace at her throat and pearl stud earrings were the perfect compliment to the outfit. She wore black opaque tights and black shoes with prim, one inch heels.

Was she trying to counter the face that practically screamed sensuality? Her cheekbones were high and highlighted her stunning blue eyes but it was really her mouth that captured his attention. They were full and pink and his mind wondered what it would be like to kiss her. As well as many other things. How could a woman with lips like that dress like a school librarian?

He watched in fascination as her mouth opened and closed, trying to figure out what she could tell him. He knew the exact moment when she made the decision to lie to him. “I know I made a fool of myself,” she started off. “But I just stubbed my toe.”

Lana held her breath, waiting for him to call her on the fib. She was a horrible liar but there was no way she could explain to this man what had really happened. Maybe if he’d been old, ugly or even fat and short or bald, she could have come up with some half truths that would be more believable than the silly stubbed toe line. No one in their right mind would cry that long and hard over a small ache. Yes, she could have passed off some form of the truth to someone less attractive and overwhelming. But not this handsome, dynamic man who had probably never cried in his life. He was too strong and looked like “confidence” was his middle name. She wiggled uncomfortably under his intense, dark gaze and was relieved when he looked away.

He ignored her lie and lifted his hand to signal the waiter. Within moments, a martini with two olives appeared at her elbow.

Lana looked at the drink, then up at him in confusion. “What’s this?” she asked, not daring to touch it. She rarely drank anything at all and on the few occasions she did, she preferred a glass of wine which she could slowly sip. Generally she could only take half a glass before she put it aside, feeling the impact from only a few ounces. It had been one of the irritants Drew had laughed at her about during their marriage.

“It’s a martini,” he explained patiently. “You look like you could use a drink.”

 

Her fingers gently touched the bottom of the glass and shifted it away from her slightly. “I don’t drink,” she explained, but smiled gently to soften the words.

 

“Ever?” he asked.

She looked down at the linen table cloth self-consciously. “Of course I drink occasionally. But not liquor.” Immediately, her body braced to hear the sarcasm about how weak she was and what a lightweight to not be able to drink. Drew had done it so often, she could practically write the script.

She waited a long moment, tense and frustrated. When he said nothing, she glanced up at him but he wasn’t looking at her. He was looking for the waiter or bar tender.

He started to raise his hand again but she placed her fingers on his sleeve gently, then pulled them quickly away when she felt the muscles underneath the fabric. “No,” she said hurriedly, knowing that drinks in this kind of establishment were probably very expensive. “This is fine,” she said and to counter the question in his eyes she picked up the drink and took a daring sip, showing him that she wasn’t going to waste her present cocktail.

She smiled tentatively, showing him that everything was fine. And then the fire started. As the gin slid down her throat, she felt as if she were going to die! Gasping, she glanced around to figure out how to put out the flames but there was no instant relief in sight.

Knowing that she could either make a fool of herself again, or drink the horrible liquid, she decided against appearing foolish once more . Daring to tough it out, she swallowed all the liquid and smiled, wishing she were anywhere but here, in front of this sophisticated, elegant man who, quite literally, took her breath away. Her eyes were burning and she was sure she’d scorched off most of the taste buds on her tongue but she blinked rapidly in an effort to show him that she was fine with the current drink. “No need for anything else,” she gasped out.

Victor watched in amusement as she fought the fire of the martini. He wasn’t sure why she didn’t want him to order her something more to her liking but wanted to find out why she’d been so upset instead. He couldn’t believe what a fascinating creature she was. He was entranced despite years of cynicism that had made him lose faith in women and humanity. She was an intriguing breath of fresh air.

“What were you doing in Lincoln Publishing?” he asked, deciding to come around the issue of her tears more carefully.

Lana wiggled uncomfortably in her chair. There was absolutely no way she was going to rehash the conversation with this man. Too embarrassing. The man practically oozed sexual charm and charisma. He couldn’t possibly know what it is like to abhor sex. He probably had a different woman in his bed every night and loved it.

Surveying his immaculate suit and silk tie, she just couldn’t admit to him her horror at sex. “I was talking over some things with someone,” she said vaguely. At least it wasn’t a lie, she told herself, feeling slightly better. It wasn’t anywhere near the truth but she couldn’t be honest with this man.

He smothered his smile as he countered her non-answer. “Which someone? Maybe I know them.” There was no way he would let her get away with evasiveness, he thought, challenged and thrilled that she would dare. It was obvious that this beautiful woman had no idea who he was. It was both exciting and unprecedented.

Lana shook her head and smiled, taking another sip of her martini, needing something to do with her hands and hoping the action would ease some of her nervousness. This time it burned but it wasn’t painful. “No, I doubt it,” she said and carefully placed the glass back down on the table. She felt very warm now and actually sat back in her chair. “Goodness, I’m terribly sorry about blubbering so much.” She smiled at him and her heart fluttered as he assessed her from across the table. She nervously smoothed the plaid wool of her skirt over her knees, unable to hold his gaze.

The man continued to look at her as if she were some sort of amusing doll that he could play with but she didn’t want to be rude and simply get up and walk away. “What do you do?” she asked, hoping he’d accept her change of subject. She laughed softly. “I don’t even know your name.”

“I’m Victor,” he said and reached out his hand to take hers. “And you’re…?”

“Lana. Lana Armstrong,” she said her confidence returning, even if it was still a little weak. She took another sip of the martini and actually enjoyed it this time. “So what do you do, Victor?” she asked, setting the glass on the table and pushing it away from her. Leaning back in her chair, she looked at the man in anticipation.

“I guess I’m a Jack of all trades,” he explained.

 

She grinned. “And today you were saving damsels in distress.”

Lana enjoyed his laugh and relaxed even more. She absently drank the martini while they discussed non-sensical subjects ranging from farming techniques to the upcoming election. Lana didn’t realize when the bartender took her empty glass away, replacing it with a fresh martini. She just continued to sip the drink and relax in this amazing man’s company. She laughed and talked and felt pretty under his intense gaze. It was a wonderful feeling, one she hadn’t had for several years now. If ever, she thought, a part of her thinking back to the first few dates with Drew. He’d been handsome and charming but she couldn’t ever remember feeling this kind of exhilaration. Just talking with Victor was interesting and challenging.

Lana had no idea how long they’d been talking but she realized that it must have been a while when he leaned forward slightly. She was glad when she didn’t tense at his closeness, but her heart rate picked up significantly. “So when are you going to tell me the truth about your afternoon?” he asked, both of them leaning forward on the table with their elbows. “I seriously doubt your explanation of a sore foot.”

Lana looked at him and laughed. Her whole body was relaxed and she didn’t care that it was because of the alcohol. She felt daring and pretty and glamorous in some silly kind of way she didn’t care to analyze too carefully. “Not so difficult to determine, hu? Since I’m a pretty awful liar,” she said and peeked at him under her lashes. “But I’ll tell you simply because you’ve been so kind although you’re going to be horrified.” Lana knew it was the alcohol talking but she had been in this man’s company for so long, he felt like a handsome new friend.

“I’m intrigued,” Victor replied, leaning forward even more. “Beautiful and mysterious. Quite a combination.” His dark brown eyes looked down into her soft blue ones and waited patiently, a slight smile on his firm, sexy lips.

Lana twisted the half empty glass with her fingers, relaxed but still unable to believe her rotten luck. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself for his reaction. “I’m a romance writer,” she said, almost in a whisper, then glanced up at him to see if he was shocked. When he just waited patiently for her to continue, she gained strength. “And I write the kind without sex scenes.”

Suddenly, Victor knew where this was going but he was too interested in her blush to stop her and tell her that he was already aware of her predicament. “I’m guessing that’s a problem,” he prompted. He couldn’t believe how fascinating she was. A woman who hated sex? That seemed disturbing coming from someone so beautiful. He knew of women who weren’t particularly interested in sex but could enjoy it when in the right kind of mood. He steered clear of those, preferring the ones that genuinely enjoyed sex, who were bold and sexy and able to ask for what they needed. He wouldn’t accept that this woman wasn’t one of them.

She grimaced and propped her chin in her hand, her elbow against the table. “Yes. Because no one apparently wants to buy books without sex scenes in them.”

He didn’t laugh but he could tell that she was waiting for him to do so. Obviously some man had ridiculed her lack of a sex drive and made her embarrassed about who she was deep inside. He felt anger at whoever had done this to her, then stopped himself. He barely knew this woman and he was getting angry on her behalf? It seemed ridiculous, but it was true, regardless. “So, write some sex scenes.”

Lana’s mouth twisted and her shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. “I can’t.” She couldn’t even hold his gaze when she admitted that awful truth. She wished it were different, that she could simply shed her shell and come out like a butterfly, with wings, and sexuality, altered. But it was no use. Drew had told her over and over again that she was not only not interested in sex, but that she was completely inept when it came to the degrading act.