Operation Gigolo. Vicki Lewis Thompson

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      “Sure. All the time.” He tucked the pack of cigarettes more securely in the roll of his T-shirt sleeve. Beneath it, his biceps flexed, drawing attention to the dragon tattooed there.

      She stared at that rippling dragon. That’s right, he’d said he had a tattoo, and there it was, real as could be. Forcing her gaze back to his face, she cleared her throat. “Tony, are you telling me that you used to be—”

      “The guy your mother warned you about. Yup. Drove too fast, drank too much, tried my best to reduce the population of vir—”

      “Spare me the details of your conquests.”

      “Not conquests,” he said softly. “I wasn’t a predator, Lynn. I never took what wasn’t offered.”

      No doubt the offers were plentiful, she thought. At seventeen she wouldn’t have dared hook up with a guy like this…yet how she’d wanted to. Her teenage sexual fantasies had been filled with tight jeans, motorcycles and muscle. And now she had to wonder if this escapade had been partly born of those unsatisfied fantasies. If so, she could be in a lot of trouble, because Tony had turned out to be the real thing.

      She took a deep breath. “I had no idea you had that kind of background. I assumed, with your degree from Harvard, that you’d been a…”

      “Nerd?” He laughed. “I’ve worked hard turning myself into a nerd in the past fourteen years, so maybe I’ve succeeded. Hey, I think they just called our flight.”

      “They did?” She hadn’t heard a thing. Apparently, one of the jets could have plowed nose first into the terminal and she wouldn’t have noticed that, either. She needed to snap out of it, and fast. “Then I guess we’d better go.”

      He gestured toward the jetway. “I’ll follow you.” His gaze became hooded and suggestive. “I sure do enjoy walking behind a chick with a tight…schedule.”

      “Tony Russo!”

      He winked at her. “Get used to it, Lynn. You’re supposed to be loving comments like that, remember? Looks like I’ll have to coach the witness on the plane ride.” He gave her a shallow bow. “After you.”

      3

      WHEN THEY REACHED their seats, Lynn started to put her suitcase in the overhead bin, as she always did.

      “Not while I’m around, sugarcakes.” Tony took hold of the suitcase.

      “I can do it.” She hated helpless females, and she continued with the task.

      “Don’t make me get rough, woman.” Still holding on to the suitcase, Tony loomed over her. Incoming passengers pressed from behind, plastering them together. “Women’s lib detoured right around this boy.”

      Her body reacted to the close quarters by becoming aroused. Great. “What are you talking about? You’re very liberated!”

      He leaned down and murmured in her ear. “For the next four days, I’m a chauvinist pig, remember? Now give me that suitcase and go sit down.”

      “And which seat did you want me to take, darling?” she asked with exaggerated humility.

      He smiled. “Much better, except for the teensy bit of sarcasm. You can have the window.”

      She batted her eyelashes. “But that would put you in the middle seat, and I can’t believe you’d be happy there, sweetheart.”

      “That depends. Maybe somebody as hot as you will take the aisle seat, and I can be the filling in a babe sandwich.”

      Lynn groaned and edged into the far seat as Tony hoisted her suitcase into the overhead bin with an admirable display of biceps and triceps. He heaved his duffel in after it.

      She noticed the gaze of many female passengers avidly following Tony’s moves. Their attention would return briefly to Lynn, then swing back to Tony, and the speculation was obvious in their expressions. She’d worn her normal traveling outfit—silk blouse, tailored shorts and jacket, nylons and designer shoes. The contrast with Tony’s more casual clothes made him seem younger, somehow. In fact, he looked exactly like what she’d intended for her parents to see—her boy toy.

      When he sat down beside her, she leaned toward him and lowered her voice. “Thanks, but I really think you’re laying it on a little thick.”

      “According to you, that’s not possible. You want your parents frothing at the mouth, right?”

      “Well…yes, but—”

      “And from your reaction to my act, you need a lot of practice being my main squeeze.”

      She gazed at him and shook her head in wonder. “I can’t believe I’m sitting next to Anthony J. Russo, attorney-at-law.”

      “You’re not. You’re sitting next to Tony The Tomcat.” His dark eyes twinkled. “Around Midvale High, they used to say I was born to prowl.”

      “Oh, please.” She struggled to hang on to a more comfortable reality. “You know, I could really screw up your image around the office with that information.”

      “I know. I’m trusting you not to.”

      “Of course I won’t. But honestly, Tony, this is an incredible transformation.”

      He smiled. “Oh, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet, sweetface.”

      “My God, I’ve created a monster.”

      “The better to freak out your old man and old lady, hot pants.”

      Lynn rolled her eyes. “We may not even get to Sedona. At this rate we’ll accomplish the mission thirty seconds from the time we meet them at the Phoenix airport.” She glanced beyond him as a young man in a ponytail consulted his ticket and sat down next to Tony. “Too bad, lover boy. No babe sandwich,” she murmured.

      “Well, damn.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Guess I’ll have to make do with you.”

      “Tony!” Her cheeks burning, she pulled back, but she was limited in how much distance she could put between them. She pretended that she didn’t like his outrageous advances, but the problem was she liked them too much. Her lips tingled and she wished he’d kiss her again…and stay a while next time.

      He shook his head and clucked his tongue at her. “You’ve got to quit shying away or your parents will never believe this stunt. I suggest we draw up ground rules and a plan of action.”

      “A plan. That’s a good idea.” She couldn’t possibly talk about it now without hyperventilating. She grabbed the airline magazine out of the seat pocket in front of her. “Maybe during lunch.” She started rapidly flipping the pages.

      “I’ll be damned. Lynn Morgan, attorney-at-law, is flustered.”

      She glanced up at him. “No, I’m not.”

      “Yes, you are.” He gazed at her, a smile on his face. “Ever СКАЧАТЬ