Undercover Passion. Raye Morgan

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      “To improve their lives,” she said promptly. “To attain a natural state of well-being through nutritional counseling, a fitness regimen and self-awareness instruction.”

      He shrugged. “Count me in.”

      She studied him for a long moment, glanced at the tight, narrow set of his hips, the thigh muscles that bulged beneath the fabric of his slacks, then back at the cocky set of his shoulders and head.

      Nope. She just wasn’t buying it.

      Of course, it was conceivable that the look of fitness and assurance was just a facade. Perhaps beneath that cocky exterior lay a hidden supply of raging neuroses. It was possible that this was all a front to hide his insecurities.

      Possible, but not very likely. Not with that look in his eyes.

      “What aspect of our services would you be interested in?” she asked him incredulously.

      “The whole rigmarole I guess. Tell me about it.” Snagging an office chair, he swung down into the seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “Do you have a brochure of your product line?”

      “Yes. But it’s not current. We’re having new ones printed up that are more informative.” One of her main projects since she’d been hired earlier in the summer had been to revamp the marketing plan. “Tell you what. If you come to the seminar tomorrow night, I’ll make sure you get a copy of the new ones.”

      His nod was saying, “Okay,” but the look on his face was saying that wasn’t going to satisfy him. “Why not just give me a brief rundown right now?”

      She hesitated. “I hate to try to do that.” She slumped down into the chair behind the desk, then leaned toward him confidentially. “Okay, I’ll be honest with you. Everything is in chaos right now. Once I get moved into this office and have a chance to go over the inventory and the scheduling routines, I’ll be able to give you a clearer picture. In the meantime…”

      Reaching out, she picked up a flyer and handed it to him. “There you go. Seven-thirty on Tuesday, in the Blue Bayou Room.” Spinning in her chair, she took another look at the piles she still had to deal with.

      “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a lot of work ahead of me here.”

      Daniel gazed at her speculatively. He knew he’d just been dismissed, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He hadn’t succeeded in getting any closer to the truth about what was going on at this clinic, but at least he’d made a start. Developing a relationship with Abby Edwards, PR person, should give him a lot of access to the inner workings of the place. Besides, he had to admit, he didn’t mind the view.

      She hadn’t seemed all that attractive at first. Despite her luxuriously long brown hair and her deep-brown eyes with the golden flecks, she wasn’t classically beautiful. In fact, his initial reaction had been negative. She’d come across as a know-it-all with a chip on her shoulder.

      But once she’d settled down and started talking about her work here at the clinic, her natural warmth had taken over and her face had become animated in a way that was quite winning.

      Abby Edwards wasn’t so bad.

      Still, she very much wasn’t his type.

      What was his type exactly? Hard to tell. A picture of Charlene flashed in his mind but he shoved it away. No, Charlene wasn’t his type either. Experience had borne that out. In fact, he probably didn’t have a type. He was just a guy wedded to his job. The fact that that job might be in jeopardy right now made that situation all the more bittersweet.

      “You know I’m really interested in the work this clinic does,” he told her. “And I don’t want to wait until tomorrow. Do you have any samples around that I could take a look at?”

      “Samples?” She turned back, blinking at him. “Of what?”

      “Your products. I understand you have a line of vitamins, for one thing.”

      “Oh, sure. The vitamins are very popular. In fact, last year they outsold one of the national brands in the hospital pharmacy.”

      Last year. That wasn’t going to help his search. Whatever was going on here, it seemed to be of recent vintage. The vitamins didn’t appear to be contenders. He was looking for something new, something that had just been introduced lately.

      “I’ll have to look into those vitamins,” he said smoothly. “In the meantime, have you got anything else?” Anything that might make a whole population of hospital workers turn into love-crazed androids? “Any elixirs? Love potions? Aphrodisiacs? Libido revivers?”

      To his surprise, she reddened. “Hey, if you’re looking for Viagra,” she began indignantly.

      He straightened, horrified. “No, no!” Now he felt himself reddening, and that hadn’t happened in years. “That’s not what I meant.”

      She bit her lip, then leaned toward him, losing the outrage and looking sympathetic.

      “Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she said quickly. “If that’s your problem, I’m sure that a regimen of exercise will really help. But you might want to consult a sex therapist.”

      He groaned. “No, wait—”

      “It’s a common problem. Please don’t feel that you have to hide it.”

      “Hide it!” He choked. This was getting him in deeper and deeper. It wasn’t funny. Well, maybe a little bit. But at the same time, it was damned humiliating.

      “I don’t have a problem,” he told her forcefully. “Listen, you took it wrong. I’ve never had any trouble….” His voice faded out. Looking at her sweet, innocent face, he just couldn’t say it. “That way,” he said lamely at last. “Really. I’m a normal, healthy male.”

      She was still looking sympathetic. Damn it all, she thought he was just covering up his embarrassment. There was definitely a good way to prove that she was wrong, but he didn’t think she’d go for it. So he stared at her in frustrated silence, wondering how the conversation had taken a turn down this blind alley.

      “I can give you a referral,” she was saying, digging through the papers on her desk for a note pad.

      Reaching out, he grabbed her hand. “I don’t need a referral,” he said firmly. “I don’t need therapy. All I want to know is what sort of products you dispense here besides vitamins.”

      She was staring at him in bewilderment and he didn’t blame her. He was coming darn close to shouting, and that wasn’t going to help anything. He forced a smile, knowing it must look pretty ghastly.

      “Hey,” he said, remembering something and releasing her hand. “Dr. Richie was saying something about a new product at the ribbon cutting last month. Something called NoGo or Nutrait or—”

      “NoWait!” she chimed in, beaming with relief. “Yes, that is a new homeopathic oil he’s developed himself. He’s such a genius.”

      “That’s the one.”

      “Oh, it’s flying off the СКАЧАТЬ