Operation Babe-Magnet: Operation Babe-Magnet / Operation Beauty

“Yes,” Kylie exclaimed, flopping down into the beanbag chair. “Of course. I want him to dazzle every woman he meets. But not me!”

Amy sat up. “Kylie, you’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Letting your heart lead you instead of your head. Or in this case, your hormones. How long has it been since your last date?”

“I’ve been busy,” Kylie hedged.

“Six months?” Amy guessed. “Seven?”

She sighed. “Twelve months and thirteen days.”

“So you agree it is possible that you’re overreacting to that kiss?”

“Anything is possible at two o’clock in the morning.” She rubbed her face with her hands. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am overreacting.”

Amy grinned. “You do have a tendency to leap before you look. Remember Tony?”

Kylie felt a blush crawl up her cheeks. Amy knew all about her years in Hollywood. She’d been as impulsive in her relationships as she had in every other aspect of her life. “That was my fault for getting involved with an actor. They love themselves too much to love anyone else.”

“And Adam.”

“A director. Even worse, when you consider the size of their egos.”

“And now there’s Dexter.”

“Okay, okay,” Kylie conceded, holding up both hands. “You’ve made your point. And I know you’re right. I’ve always been too impulsive. I wouldn’t be in this mess if I hadn’t scheduled a book tour for Harry Hanover without getting his approval first. But Dexter is…different.”

“Just be careful,” Amy admonished. “The man is a gigolo. A professional babe magnet. Kissing is his stock and trade. He probably has this affect on all his women.”

All his women. She needed to remember that she wasn’t his first and certainly wouldn’t be his last. No doubt there was a long line of women Dexter D. Kane had kissed until their toes tingled.

But had it ever meant anything to him?

Kylie nibbled her lower lip. “You know, now that I think about that kiss, he did go strictly by the book, hitting every high point in chapter three. Establishing his dominance. Applying just the right amount of pressure.”

“Chapter three?”

“It’s the kissing tutorial in How To Jump-Start Your Love Life.”

Dexter’s husky words echoed in her mind. You smell so good. It’s been driving me crazy all day long. She closed her eyes, realizing he’d added a dash of pizzazz as well. “I’m an idiot.”

“Now I think you’re definitely overreacting,” Amy said gently.

Kylie shook her head. “Here I am swooning over Dexter’s kiss and he was just playing his part. He’s probably forgotten it already. Especially since he just turned around and walked out the door while I, on the other hand, could barely stand up.”

“Well, you wanted the man to practice kissing, didn’t you?”

“On Gertrude, not me!”

Amy snorted. “Gertrude? Okay, I hate to admit it, but Dexter is starting to grow on me. Any man who would choose a real flesh-and-blood woman over a plastic mannequin can’t be all bad.”

Kylie folded her arms across her chest. “That’s not the point. Dexter needs to remember that I’m the one in charge of this operation. I did hire him, after all, not the other way around. If I want him to kiss a plastic woman, then I think he should do it. There will be several last-minute decisions I have to make on the book tour and I need to be certain he’ll follow through.”

“And what happens if he tries to kiss you again? Can you keep from swooning at his feet?”

“Of course. I simply won’t let it affect me.”

“Uh-huh.” Amy looked skeptical.

“No, really,” Kylie said, firming her resolve. “First thing in the morning, I’m going to make it clear to Dexter that I’m in charge. Which means from now on, he keeps his lips to himself.”

“I WASN’T EXPECTING YOU so soon.” Dexter stood in the doorway of his apartment, a towel wrapped around his waist and his face covered with shaving lotion.

Kylie walked inside, a box of doughnuts in her hands. “I called to tell you I was coming over early.”

He closed the door, then turned to face her. “You called me thirty seconds ago on your cell phone. I didn’t realize you were standing right outside my door.”

Her gaze dropped to his chest, then to the towel hanging low on his hips. “Dexter, we need to talk.”

“Can I get dressed first?”

A pink blush suffused her cheeks. “Please do.”

He walked into his bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him. He wasn’t sure why Kylie had made a beeline for his apartment this morning, but after that kiss last night, he wasn’t exactly in a talking mood. Even after a second icy cold shower, he still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her.

He tossed the towel onto the bed, then quickly dressed in an outfit that would meet Amy Kwan’s approval. He ran a comb through his wet hair, slicking it back. Then he walked into the adjoining bathroom and finished shaving. The man looking back at him in the mirror had bloodshot eyes caused by staying up half the night doing research on the Internet.

He had finally figured out that the way to succeed at this gigolo gig was to approach it just like he’d approached the other challenges in his life—by learning everything he could about the subject until he mastered it. It had worked with accounting. And business law. So why not with romance?

He’d found myriad Web sites pertaining to romance, along with several chat rooms populated by people who offered some very interesting variations on how to properly seduce a woman. Not that he actually intended to seduce anyone, especially Kylie, but he’d mentally filed the information anyway.

Dexter had learned a long time ago that information was power. So the more he knew about romance, the more successful he’d be at imitating the author of the latest fad book on the subject.

He’d thumbed through How To Jump-Start Your Love Life last night, too, but he intended to give it a much more thorough examination on the car ride from Pittsburgh to Columbus, Ohio, today. Kylie had arranged an interview for him there on an early bird radio show tomorrow morning.

Dexter wiped off the remnants of shaving cream from his jaw with a towel, blinking rapidly to moisten his dry eyes. The optometrist had warned him that he should let his eyes adjust gradually to the contact lenses or risk irritation and possibly infection. He’d obviously worn the new contact lenses for too many hours yesterday.

He reached for his glasses, then changed his mind. Kylie had hired him to portray Harry Hanover, and Harry didn’t wear glasses. At least, that’s the reason he told himself as he unscrewed the contact lens case and placed a lens into each eye. It had nothing to do with the fact that she’d melted in his arms while he was in his Harry Hanover persona. If she wanted Harry, then he’d give her Harry.

By the time he returned to the living room, Kylie had the doughnut box open and half empty.

“Your eyes are red,” she said, licking vanilla glaze off her fingertips.

“They’re fine,” he replied, blinking away the sting. “Now what did you want to talk about?”

“Sit down, Dexter.”