Hot for Him. Sarah Mayberry

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СКАЧАТЬ it to the world as the last word in lavish soap excess, then dared her to best him. So maybe he wasn’t quite as contemptuous as she’d first thought.

      But he was still her arch rival—conniving sneakery or no conniving sneakery. He still lusted after her ratings points, just as she salivated over his. And he was Greek. She never, ever dated Greek men. They reminded her of her brothers and her father and her cousins, and they brought to mind every family gathering she’d ever attended since before she could remember. They were too traditional, too alpha, too domineering. Not that she was in any danger of being dominated—she simply had better things to do with her time than to manage some lunkhead with a bee in his bonnet about looking after her, or something equally medieval. She preferred men with more modern outlooks, men who played by the same rules she did.

      “Wow. Check out those sissy lips and that big Greek honker,” Grace said, eating up Leandro with her eyes.

      “Oooh yeah, he just about makes me feel sick to my stomach,” Sadie chimed in.

      Standing on Grace’s other side, Mac cleared his throat and shot Dylan a world-weary look.

      “A little consideration for the chopped liver over here, ladies,” Mac said. “At least wait until we’re not around before you start scoring the other studs out of ten.”

      “The other studs?” Grace asked, one eyebrow arched imperiously.

      “We still qualify, even if we are spoken for,” Dylan said, smoothing a hand down the sleeve of his midnight-blue tux.

      Sadie stepped close to straighten his tie. “I’m willing to concede the point,” she said huskily, smiling up at him from under her lashes.

      Claudia tore her eyes from Leandro and tried to remember what she’d been thinking before she got hit by the freight train that was her rival’s sex appeal.

      Right. Their table. She’d been looking for their table. Consulting the notes her assistant had provided, she began scanning the room for table five. It was flatteringly close to the stage, and Claudia told herself it was a good sign—easy access to the podium. The organizers wouldn’t do that unless she actually needed to get up there, right?

      “We’re over here, guys,” she said, directing them toward the round banquet table marked for Ocean Boulevard.

      As she turned away, something tugged at her awareness. She knew Leandro was looking at her before she glanced his way. His near-black eyes were unreadable from a distance, but his acknowledging nod and the quirk of his mouth told her he was laughing at her again. In an instant she went from self-conscious to annoyed. More than anything, she’d like to flip him the finger. Instead, she smoothed a hand down her hip and over her butt, all of it hugged to perfection in deep red velvet, and turned her back on him.

      She could feel him watching her all the way to her table, and she thanked her guardian angel that she didn’t stumble in her high heels and long skirt. Just what she needed, to go ass-over-tit in front of Mr. Machismo.

      “Claud, you sit between me and Grace,” Sadie said. “That way we won’t have to talk across Mac and Dylan all night.”

      “See? Chopped liver again,” Mac joked as he took his seat. Grace slid her hand beneath the table and an arrested expression crossed Mac’s handsome face.

      “Still feeling like chopped liver?” Grace asked in a sultry tone.

      “N-no, not exactly,” Mac said, his eyes finding Grace’s substantial cleavage.

      “Settle, children. Don’t make me go find the fire hose,” Claudia warned them.

      Lately she’d found herself feeling like a spinster aunt with two sets of lovebirds twittering around her constantly. Most of the time she was too busy to regret her lack of a love life, but when she saw a fine specimen of manhood such as Leandro dressed up in all his finery, she couldn’t help remembering that there were definite perks to having a man in her life.

      Sex being the major perk on her mind right this minute as she watched Leandro weave his way through the tables. For a big man, he moved with surprising grace. And even though she’d made a few cracks about his Greek nose, it suited him. It was a man’s nose—a take-no-prisoners kind of nose.

      Realizing that she was staring, Claudia concentrated on unfolding her napkin and spreading it across her lap.

      Off-limits, she reminded herself. But perhaps a timely reminder that it had been a while since she’d caught up with either Harry or Simon, her two bed buddies. Although last time she’d seen him, Harry had been all doe-eyed over a woman in his office. One of the hazards of bed buddies—sometimes they fell in love with someone and left a girl stranded.

      Sliding her slim-lined cell phone from her small clutch purse, Claudia punched in a quick text message to Simon. If he was free tonight, there was no reason why he couldn’t meet her at the hotel after the ceremony. Instead of spending the night on her own, ricocheting around the lavish suite the production company had provided for the duration of the convention, she and Simon could see how many rooms they could christen.

      Her finger hovering over the Send key, Claudia glanced up and was caught in the magnetic darkness of Leandro’s gaze. His table was the one across from hers, and he was seated facing her. She’d be looking at him all night. At those shoulders. Those firm, full lips. And he’d be looking right back at her, his eyes full of heat and curiosity and challenge.

      Her finger descended on the Send key, and she sent a prayer to the goddess that Simon was sitting at home twiddling his thumbs tonight. If she had any luck, he’d be twiddling something a lot more interesting later this evening.

      Feeling distinctly jittery, she fidgeted with her silverware and wineglass and pretended she was listening to what her friends were saying on either side of her while she waited for her old lover to respond.

      It had been a few months since she’d scratched the particular itch that was bugging her tonight, she realized as she did a mental calendar check. How had that happened? No wonder she was feeling like a cat on a hot tin roof. She was well overdue for a good roll in the hay.

      Her phone beeped in her purse and she almost leaped on it. Her breath hissed out between her teeth as she saw Simon’s response: Can’t make it. Wish me luck—just got engaged! S.

      Good Lord. Claudia stared at the screen for a full minute, feeling as though someone had pulled the rug out from under her. First Harry, now Simon. She really was a hard-up spinster. Automatically she sent a text back, offering her congratulations and best wishes. Simon was a nice guy. She really did wish him well.

      She was so distracted, she didn’t notice the waiter leaning close to pour her wine, and her glass was full before she could protest. Grace solved the problem by placing her hand over her own glass, then swapping with Claudia’s full one when the waiter had moved on.

      “Thanks,” Claudia said, reaching for her water glass.

      “No problem,” Grace said. “Relax, Claud—if we win it’s great, if we lose it doesn’t mean anything.”

      “Okay. I’m not quite sure how the logic of that works, but I’ll try to go with it,” Claudia said.

      She was nervous about the stupid award. That was probably half the reason why her stomach was tied up in knots. As for being СКАЧАТЬ