Seducing Seven

Chapter 1-2

Blake Turner couldn’t believe the nonsense coming out of the plain Jane all up in arms in front of him. He’d admit, she’d taken him off guard with that kiss—hell, he’d felt it well past his d**k, which was surprising—but on second look, he could see she was the typical housewife romance reader, and apparently writer, he’d always imagined when he saw or heard the word “romance.” f**k, kill me now.

The sooner he got to work, the better. And it wouldn’t be easy with his company sharing the casino with a romance convention, of all things. The damn place looked like a masquerade ball had f****d a Mardi Gras parade.

This weekend was his chance to prove he was ready for the VP of sales position, and though a heated kiss here and there made for a fun trip, he didn’t have time for any distractions. As soon as he’d stepped out of the cab, he missed the calm of his office—this weekend was already distraction enough.

In six minutes he was supposed to be sitting down in a meeting with a client who wanted to upgrade his personal fleet of luxury sedans, and this little woman was going to make him late.

He looked back down at her, her brown eyes challenging, her small mouth pressed into a thin line. He couldn’t understand why he was still hard, but apparently his d**k had opinions that didn’t take his feelings into account. “You could make any man fall for you? Talk about thinking you’re smooth.”

She mimicked his arrogant stance. “Oh, you have no idea.” Her eyes flared wide for a beat, then narrowed.

Blake shifted his weight until he leaned back against the wall. “Please, there is no way you could get any man you want using that damned book.” Love was a fallacy, and commitment was nothing more than a prison sentence based on ignorance. The idea that she could produce anything real from using the rules in some ridiculous romance was laughable.

“No?”

“No.”

“Wanna bet?”

Laughter from their audience echoed in the elevator. Her brown eyes turned more a molten fudge the feistier she got, and right now she was pretty fired up. He wanted to laugh, but one more chuckle might send the poor woman over the edge. He’d humor her, for now. Plus, he only had about five minutes left before he had to leave. “You seriously want to bet me on something so ridiculous?”

The doors pinged open. She smirked. “What’s wrong? Afraid you’ll lose?”

He pushed away from the wall. “I never lose.”

“Oh, you’ll lose this one.” Stepping from the elevator, she called over her shoulder, “This is my floor. I’m not riding in that thing all day.”

Noting the floor number, he glanced at their audience and then back. Clenching his teeth, he pulled his bag higher on his shoulder and joined her.

She was the cockiest little thing he’d ever met. For not being much over five feet, she stood as if she were ten feet tall. High time he brought her back down to size. “What are the rules?”

With a slow nod, she adjusted her bags. “I’ll seduce a man, using the seven rules the heroine used in my book.”

“Seduce?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know the word. And no worries—even though his seduction will mean I win, he’ll be greatly rewarded.”

“With what?”

“With me.” She looked away and then back, biting her lip.

His body tensed. She had to be kidding. “With you?”

She gave one jerk of her chin and challenge flashed in her eyes. “With me. And if I win, you have to buy ten of my books and…” Her mouth spread into a wicked grin. “You’re here for business, aren’t you?”

He stilled. “Sales. So what?”

“You have meetings?”

A feeling of dread washed over him, but he couldn’t put a finger on why, so he nodded, still not sure what she was getting at.

She jabbed his chest. “You have to pass them out to your colleagues at a meeting and sell it, legitimately, as a guide to close the deal.”

“Woman, you must be batshit crazy. There is no way—”

She threw her head back and laughed, then nailed him with a narrow look. “So you are afraid you’ll lose.”

Why the little— He fisted his hands at his sides. “Fine. Deal.”

The surprise on her face soothed him, but only a little. He had a plan of his own.

Lips he’d felt against his own only minutes before spread wide across the woman’s face, and she sent him a victory wink. How had he ever thought that mouth was small? His body tightened in memory.

What the hell? She wasn’t his type at all.

She turned to leave.

“Not so fast.” He checked his watch. Two minutes. He absolutely had to leave in two minutes. “What the hell is your name, anyway?”

With a slight pucker to her mouth, she studied him, then lifted her badge. Sevannah Michaels. “You can call me Seven.”

“Are you kidding?” What the hell kind of name was Seven?

She waited.

Stepping close so she had to crane her neck to look up at him, he narrowed his eyes down at her. “If I win, you have to announce at your last banquet or party, or whatever the hell you women have going on, that your book is a fraud, nothing but fiction written out of desperation and read by bored, insecure women.”

Her eyes flared, but she held her ground, though her hands wringing at her waist were interesting. Tilting her head to the side, she leaned back and looked him over. “Desperation is right if you’re the example of what the male masses have to offer.”

“One more thing. I choose the man.”

She stared at him a beat and then looked around up and down the hallway. “Fine, who do you want to—”

“Me.”

Her eyes went wide. “What? Hell no. No way.”

This was going to be the easiest wager he’d ever placed. He never backed down from a challenge, and he always won. If he could do anything right this weekend, it would be setting straight hundreds of irrational women. And he’d arranged it in four minutes flat. f**k, he should be given a Man of the Year award.

Leaning toward her, his arms crossed at his chest, he wiggled his brow. “Scared you’ll lose?” There was no doubt in his mind she would, because losing wasn’t in his vocabulary. Love was not part of his vocabulary, not part of his reality. The idea of him falling for this little woman—not being able to say good-bye come Sunday—was about as likely as him becoming a male model. He chuckled. This was going to be too easy.

Taking a step back, she pulled in a breath. “I know I’ll win, so I hope you’ll be able to handle my good-bye on Sunday when I do.”

His chuckle turned into an outright guffaw. Was this chick serious? “Your good-bye? Yeah, I’ll try to handle it.”

Seven looked him in the eye. “Are you sure? I don’t actually want to hurt anyone here.”

Blake looked around. Surely there was a camera hidden somewhere and this was all a joke. “Lady, the only thing broken will be your pride.”

She blew out a breath and extended her hand. “Fine. Deal.”

He studied her, standing there as if she’d already won. What this little lady needed was a reminder of whom she was dealing with. “I was actually on my way somewhere before you accosted me, but every deal needs negotiations. Meet me for dinner in an hour at the sushi bar.”

She scoffed. “Accosted. Please.”

Looking at his watch, he tapped his foot.

Hesitating, she looked past his shoulder, then back to his face. “I haven’t even been to my room yet.”

He had one minute left. Stepping toward her and sliding a hand around her little waist in one smooth motion, he pulled her up against his chest and pressed his mouth against hers. She squeaked, and he angled his head, taking advantage of the small sound by sliding his tongue once against hers. Her taste was cinnamon and honey. He wasn’t one for sweets, but he couldn’t deny he wanted a bigger bite. He slid his hand down over the roundness of her hip, a lot more curve than her simple dress showed. There was no way he’d buy what she was selling, but this might be more fun than he first imagined. And Blake Turner always closed the deal.