скачать книгу бесплатно
“Oh.” She took his arm and gently tugged him farther into the shop. “Good things, I hope. Are you looking for anything in particular? Something for you and your wife?”
“I’m not married.”
She smiled. So he wasn’t married. How nice.
He was still looking around the room, frowning, as if he didn’t approve. Well, they got people like that, too. But Jill figured since he’d walked through the door, he had to be a little bit interested. The trick was to play to that interest, until you found out what the customer really wanted. “Something for you and your girlfriend, then.”
That actually got a jolt out of him. He moved out of her grasp. “I don’t think my girlfriend would be interested in anything you have here.”
“She might surprise you.” They had stopped in the section of the store devoted to lingerie and costumes. “We have some very nice lingerie. Nightgowns and teddies. Our garter belts are very popular as well.” She held up a lacy black number. “Picture her in this, with some silk stockings and stiletto heels.”
A faint flush of red showed on his tanned cheeks. “That’s not why I came in here.”
Jill grinned and laid the garter belt aside. Who was it who said still waters run deep? She bet Mr. Starched Shorts here would be a real tiger if he let himself go a little. “Maybe you’d prefer something more sensual.” She took his hand and led him toward a display of massage oils—a good place to start for novices. As they passed the front window, sunlight caught the rhinestones on her bra top, scattering reflections.
“What is that you’re wearing?” her customer demanded.
She paused and held up her hands, giving a little belly-dancer shimmy. “This is part of our fantasy costume collection. Would you like to see others?”
The man’s gaze swept over her, more intimate than a caress. She fought the urge to cross her arms over her breasts, shielding herself from his intense gaze. He definitely needed to learn to lighten up. “People actually wear those things somewhere besides Halloween parties?”
The amusement in his voice relaxed her. “Of course. Couples enjoy acting out their romantic fantasies. For instance, the man might dress as a cowboy, complete with leather chaps. Or our construction worker tool belt is very popular.” Her grin widened. Her customer would look very nice in that particular costume. “Or a woman might dress as a French maid, or a nurse.” She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a sexy purr. “What’s your fantasy, sir? I’m sure we’ve got something to help you fulfill it.”
His eyes locked to hers, warning her she’d asked the wrong question. Or the right one. The raw emotion she glimpsed before the polished facade moved into place once more hinted at a man with unplumbed depths. A man who kept his feelings in chains, waiting for the woman with the right key to free them….
She looked away, her cheeks warm, like a child who’d seen something she wasn’t supposed to see.
He stepped back. “I’m not interested in fantasy at the moment, I—”
“We also have some wonderful instructional books on sensual massage.” Telling herself she was silly to let a stranger make her lose her cool, she took his hand again and tugged him toward an old-fashioned wardrobe filled with brightly colored bottles and jars. “And we have these flavored massage oils. They’re very popular with both men and women.” She unscrewed the cap on a tester bottle of cinnamon massage oil. She felt him watching her, and shivers of awareness danced across her bare skin.
“Did you know they’ve actually done surveys showing that one of the most arousing scents for men is the smell of baking cinnamon rolls?” She dabbed a bit of the oil on the inside of her wrist and held it out to him. “Doesn’t that smell wonderful?”
His fingers around her wrist were strong and warm. Long, sensitive fingers, the kind that could bring a lot of pleasure to a woman, if he knew how to use them. And something told her this man knew how to use all his assets. He brought her wrist to his nose and inhaled deeply, eyes closing for a second. His lips were so close to her skin she could feel the heat of his breath and her knees began to turn to jelly. She wanted to pull away from his grasp, but couldn’t find the strength. What was going on here?
He opened his eyes and his gaze locked with hers once more, intense and searching. Serious, as if her flirting act hadn’t fazed him one bit. He looked right past her frivolous costume and teasing manner, to a part of herself she never let anyone see.
She jerked away from him, startled. Now where had that come from? What was he doing looking at her that way—and why? “Um…maybe you’d better tell me why you came in here and I’ll see if someone can help you,” she said, avoiding his gaze. And the someone wouldn’t be her. She replaced the bottle of oil and rubbed her bare shoulders, trying to banish chill bumps. She was used to being the one in control and she didn’t like it that a stranger could take over a situation so quickly.
“I’m looking for the manager,” he said, his voice portraying no hint that anything out of the ordinary had passed between them.
“Sure. That’s Sid. He’s in back unloading new stock.” She straightened, forcing confidence back into her voice. “Tell me your name and I’ll go get him.”
“It’s Landry. Mitchell Landry. I’m the new owner of this place.”
2
MITCH’S JAW TIGHTENED as a rosy glow warmed the salesclerk’s cheeks. She had the most exquisite skin…much of which was displayed to advantage in that harem girl getup. And those eyes—violet-blue and wide as a child’s as she stared at him now. He almost smiled. It had been a while since he’d struck awe in a woman.
“I…I’ll get Sid,” she stammered, and hurried away with a rustle of silk and satin. He watched her go, intrigued. He hadn’t expected such a combination of class and sass in a place like this.
But then again, when he’d learned Uncle Grif had left him a sex toy shop, he’d halfway expected to discover a dimly lit building on the “wrong” side of town, where people in black leather skulked among racks of dirty movies.
Instead he’d found this perfectly respectable-looking building in the heart of Boulder’s business district. Well, respectable as long as you didn’t notice that the antique armoire held an assortment of whips, handcuffs and other bondage gear, or that the walnut secretary showcased a collection of vibrators in crayon colors.
And what was with the costumes? He studied a mannequin who wore a lacy apron that barely covered her breasts, a black lace garter belt, black thong underwear, fishnet hose and spike heels. He wondered what Lana would think if he suggested she wear something like that.
He shook his head. Who was he kidding? Lana Montgomery didn’t even like to leave the lights on when they were in bed. She definitely wouldn’t approve of her boyfriend owning a shop like Just 4 Play. Her father and the other members of the bank board weren’t exactly thrilled when they heard about it, though he’d managed to placate them with his talk of plans for the future of the building.
“Mr. Landry?”
Mitch turned and stared at the man moving toward him. This person had a four-inch tall pink Mohawk rising above his shaved head like a rooster’s comb. The hair and the two-inch heels on his motorcycle boots made him tower a good eight inches over Mitch’s own six feet. The man was dressed in black leather pants and vest, with an alarming array of silver rings and diamond studs glittering from both ears, his nose, eyebrow and lips. Mitch wasn’t surprised when he opened his mouth to reveal a silver barbell piercing his tongue. “Hi, I’m Sid Crawford, the manager of Just 4 Play. Man, it’s good to finally meet you.”
Sid had a firm handshake and a smile that transformed his rough features from menacing to charming. Mitch almost laughed. Apparently nothing was as it seemed at Just 4 Play. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Crawford.”
“Call me Sid. We aren’t into formal around here.”
Mitch glanced at the snake tattoo winding its way up Sid’s left bicep. “No, I can see this isn’t a very formal kind of place.”
“So I guess you’ve had a chance to look around.” Sid rubbed his hands together. “What else would you like to know?”
“I’ll want to look at the books, of course.”
“Sure. They’re right back here.” He followed Sid to the checkout counter in the center of the store. The manager pulled out a thick sheaf of computer printouts. “Business is real good. You don’t have anything to worry about there.”
Mitch’s eyes widened when he read the final figure on the computer report. “This is the income for one month?” he asked.
“Oh, no, man. That’s for one week.”
Mitch blinked. He’d had no idea… “Who buys all this stuff?” he asked.
Sid tugged on his left earring. “Lots of people. We get a lot of married couples in here. You know, looking to spice things up. College students experimenting. Single women. Lots of single women.” He grinned. “You attached?”
“Uh, not exactly.” He’d been dating Lana Montgomery for several months now, but he wouldn’t say they were exactly attached, though maybe in the future….
“It’s a great place to meet chicks,” Sid continued. “We get all kinds of people really—gays, straights, people into S&M or fetishes. You name it, we’ve got something to make them happy.”
The rustle of silk distracted him and out of the corner of his eye, he watched the blond salesclerk sashay past. She certainly was an attractive little thing.
“So, dude, I’m sorry about your loss.”
“Loss?” Mitch glanced at the books again. Was there a loss on here somewhere?
“Yeah, Grif was an awesome guy. We’re really going to miss him.”
“Oh, Grif. Yes, he was…awesome. Thank you.” Actually, in the family, his father’s brother had been known mostly for his young girlfriends, eccentric habits and outrageous taste in clothing. He and Grif had never been particularly close, though they’d stayed in touch. The last time they’d seen each other, Grif had accused his nephew of being “a regular stick in the mud.” Was willing him Just 4 Play Grif’s idea of a joke?
“I’d better give you this, too.” Sid rummaged in the drawer under the cash register and fished out a key.
Mitch accepted the key. “What’s it for?”
“It’s the key to Grif’s office.” Sid nodded toward a door at the back of the room. “I think most of the stuff in there is personal. Grif had a sort of apartment fixed up. He liked to stay over sometimes, rather than driving back to his place in Denver. But there might be some business stuff in there, too.”
Mitch pocketed the key. “Thanks. I’ll take a look at it later.”
The blonde moved past again, carrying a cardboard box. Mitch couldn’t help watching her walk across the room. She had the most distracting sway in her hips….
“And you met Jill already.” Sid nodded toward the blonde. She’d stopped before an armoire and was busy unpacking bottles from the carton and lining them up on the shelves. She ignored them, but the tension in her shoulders told Mitch she was listening to every word that was said.
“Yes, I’ve met Jill,” he said. “She was giving me a personal tour of the store.”
A pyramid of plastic bottles fell with a crash and Jill knelt to gather them up. “Let me help you.” In three strides, Mitch was beside her, helping her gather up the bottles. He read the label on one. “Kama Sutra Sensation. Have you tried this one?”
The go-to-hell look she gave him might have wounded a lesser man. “Why didn’t you tell me you were the owner instead of letting me go on like that?” she asked.
“You didn’t exactly give me a chance.” All the bottles reclaimed, he offered his hand.
She hesitated before taking it and allowing him to pull her to her feet. “I must say, I was impressed with your sales technique,” he said. “You shouldn’t have any trouble finding another job.”
“Another job!” She shoved the bottles onto the shelf and faced him, hands on her hips. “You’re going to fire me just because I didn’t know you were the new boss?”
“Not fire you. But you’ll need to find another job when I close the place down.”
“What do you mean, close?” Sid hurried over to them.
Mitch looked around at the costumed mannequins, the cabinets full of condoms and oils and lingerie and fetish toys, finally letting his gaze come to rest on Jill’s pixie face, all flashing eyes and pouting mouth. “Uncle Grif might have gotten a kick out of this place, but now that he’s left it to me, I intend to close it and use the space to open a restaurant.” He nodded toward the reshelved massage oil. “I think most people are more interested in Kung Pao than Kama Sutra, don’t you?”
“You’d better take a look at those books again,” Sid said. “This place makes way more money than any restaurant would.”
“Oh, I don’t think this has anything to do with the money, Sid.” Jill crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
“No, it isn’t about the money.” Mitch looked her in the eye, resisting the temptation to let his gaze drop lower, to her very enticing cleavage. “It’s a personal decision.”
Sid frowned. “Come again?”
“Mr. Landry doesn’t think we’re respectable,” Jill said. “He’s embarrassed.”
“Ohhhh.” Sid nodded and clapped him on the back. “Go take a look at those books again, dude. You’ll get over your embarrassment, I guarantee.”
Mitch shoved his hands into his pockets. “I have a younger sister, and business associates. I’ll admit I don’t care to have them know I own a business that sells ten kinds of dildos and fur-lined handcuffs.”
“Twenty,” Jill said.
He blinked. “Twenty what?”
“We have twenty kinds of dildos.” She took a step toward him, backing him up against the armoire. “And we have hundreds of satisfied customers. Just 4 Play provides a needed service in the community.”
“By selling musical condoms and Ben Wa beads?”
“No, by selling fantasy. And fun.” She leaned closer, until the tips of her breasts almost brushed against him. “Something you apparently haven’t had enough of in your life.”
“Life is about more than fun.” He forced himself to ignore the enticing aroma of jasmine that surrounded her. “I have work to do. Responsibilities.” He straightened. “And a reputation to protect, whether you agree with that or not.”
She stepped back, a scornful expression on her face that might have been more effective if it hadn’t made him think of the I Dream of Jeannie reruns he’d seen on Nick at Night.
“Just 4 Play has a reputation too,” she said. “And it’s not as bad as you seem to think. You haven’t even been here an hour and already you’re making judgments. You ought to at least give us a chance to show you what this place, and our customers, are really like.”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. The architects are all ready to draw up the plans and I’ve started the paperwork for the construction loan and building permits.”
Sid’s shoulders slumped. “So when do we shut the doors?”
“You have a month.” He waved his hand at the shelves of bottles, boxes and gadgets, avoiding Jill’s angry face. “You’d better start marking things down.” He checked his watch. In thirty minutes, he had to meet Lana at the bank. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”
Jill caught up with him at the door. “Isn’t there anything we can do to change your mind?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Not a thing. I’m the kind of man who, when I make up my mind to do something, it stays made up.” He hadn’t put himself and his sister through school and started his own real estate business by being wishy-washy.
“You say that as if it’s a virtue.”
Her words caught him off guard. He studied the toes of his shoes for a moment, then looked up at her. “I guess if you think life is all about fun, it isn’t,” he said. He nodded goodbye and opened the door.
He thought he’d gotten the last word, but right before the door shut, her voice drifted to him. “If you don’t have fun, you don’t have a life, Mr. Landry. Too bad no one ever taught you that.”
JILL SLAMMED THE DOOR SHUT on Mitch Landry, then turned and punched Blow-Up Betty right in the stomach. “I can’t believe he would do this to us!”
Betty swung back and forth on her stand until Sid moved over to steady her. “Careful with the merchandise, sister.”
She brushed by Sid and began to pace. “I mean, how can he waltz in here, take one look around and decide to shut us down?”
“He’s the owner. He can do anything he wants.” Sid walked over to the cash register and slumped onto the stool behind the counter. “I guess we’d better start looking for other jobs.”
“I don’t want another job.” Jill didn’t stamp her foot, but she wanted to. This was one of those times when an all-out temper tantrum would have felt good. “I want to keep this one. There must be something we can do.”
“You heard the man. He’s got the architects working already. In another few months people will be ordering up fried rice where the costume rack is now.” He picked up the paper and opened it to the classified ads. “There must be something in here I could do.”
Jill hurried over to him and grabbed his arm. “Sid, you don’t want to get another job.”
His eyebrow ring rose. “I don’t?”
“No. If you get another job, they’ll make you change your hair. Or get rid of your jewelry.” She leaned closer, her voice almost a whisper. “They’ll make you wear a suit. And a tie.”
Sid put a hand to his throat. “A tie?” He shook his head. “There must be something I can do where I don’t have to wear a tie.”
“Not and still have the title of manager. Even the manager of McDonald’s wears a tie. Plus, anyplace else you go to work, you’re liable to have to be there at eight o’clock, or even earlier.”
“Eight in the morning?” Just 4 Play opened at 11:00 a.m. and closed at 10:00 p.m. For a night owl like Sid, 8:00 a.m. might as well be the middle of the night. He laid aside the paper and gave her a stricken look. “What can we do?”
“We have to change his mind.”
