Page 56 of Live a Little!

“Hi, Mrs. Lawrence. I need a favor. I’ve baked our new neighbor a cake, but he’s not home. Do you still have the spare key from when Mrs. Jorgensen livedthere?”

“Goodness, I’d forgotten all about that. Yes, dear, I do. Come in. I’ll getit.”

“Thanks.” She stepped in, declining to take off her coat. She didn’t want Mrs. Lawrence or Alex Trebec getting an eyeful of her take-me-I’m-yours outfit. That was for Jake’s eyesonly.

“I thought I’d leave the cake on his kitchen counter for a surprise.” Well, she thought, salving her conscience, it was partly true. Only it was a two-part surprise. A cake in the kitchen, Cynthia in a merry widow. Jake couldn’t have moved into a more welcomingneighborhood.

“I took him some of my famous brownies last week,” Mrs. Lawrence said, returning to the front hall with a key. “He is such a nice young man. He cleaned my eaves for me the other day, then we had a chat. He asked quite a lot of questions about you.” The old woman’s eyes twinkled with delight. “I think he’sinterested.”

“Asked questions about me, did he?” Cynthia smiled back, hoping Mrs. Lawrence’s hearing aid couldn’t pick up the sound of gnashing teeth. “What sort ofquestions?”

“Mostly, he seemed interested in other men you might have seen in the past. Naturally, I told him I never notice what goes on in theneighborhood.”

“Thanks.” She gave the woman a quick one-armed hug, balancing the cake in the other. It would have been just awful if her neighbor had told the truth—that no other man but Walter had ever visitedher.

A canine whine came from the open doorway to Cynthia’s right, where Mrs. Lawrence indulged in her two great loves: watching television and watching the goings-on in theneighborhood.

“Gruber doesn’t like watchingJeopardy!alone.” And sure enough, she heard the opening bars of the familiar thememusic.

“I’ll be on my way. I’ll return the keytomorrow.”

She walked the short distance to Jake’s house and let herself in the front door, pleased he didn’t have a security system to worry about. She was fairly certain he knew nothing about the spare key at Mrs. Lawrence’s. She planned to surprise himtonight.

She placed the cake on his kitchen counter, wondering when they’d get around to eating it. She thought about stripping and waiting in his bed, but then he’d miss the effect of her sexy new dress and underwear. Instead, she made herself comfortable on the leather couch in his living room. She debated sitting in the dark to wait for him, but who knew how long he’d be? She drew the drapes, snapped on a light and picked up the newspaper. She hadn’t checked her stocks for awhile.

Apart from the noise of the rustling paper and the creaky sounds of an old house, it was silent. After checking her stocks, she went back to the news and lost herself in an article about a local drug dealer who’d been found dead. There’d been a time when she would have skipped articles about such unsavory subjects, but lately she’d become fascinated with the drug trade. They’d released the man’s name, Dominic Torreo, and she could have sworn it seemed familiar. Butwhy?

She heard something else—the sound of a vehicle turning into Jake’s drive. She flicked the lights off and waited, blinded by the sudden darkness. Excitement, and a tiny flutter of nerves, filled her body. How would he react when he saw her? What would he think? Her ears strained, but she heard nothing. It seemed to be taking an awfully long time for Jake to come into the house. Maybe she should go looking forhim.

Then she squeaked with alarm. She heard a deadly metallic click and felt the pressure of a cold cylinder on the back of herhead.

She jumped about half a mile, another cry escaping her lips. “Jake, it’sme.”

“Cyn?” The gun was removed from herhead.

“Oh, my God. Jake. You scaredme.”

“I damn near blew your head off. What are you doinghere?”

“I baked you acake.”

“So that’s what I smell.” He flipped on a light and glanced at her, then his eyes focused on her dress. He swallowed, and when he spoke again his voice had grown husky. “Is that yourapron?”

She licked her lips in what she hoped was a lusciously sexy way—she was supposed to look like a sultry movie star, not a parched lizard. “No.” She rose slowly. “I want to fulfill yourfantasies.”

His eyes narrowed and he stared at her for a long moment. Her heart began to bump against her ribs—or it could have been the wire stays on the merry widow; they were so fused together it was impossible totell.

He might stare at her from his face of stone, but she saw a pulse thrumming under his jaw. The only workout he was getting right now was from his libido. And if his pulse was any indication, that had just kickedup.

She did another licking-the-lower-lip thing, this time a lot slower, and very deliberate. Then she allowed her gaze to wander his body from top to toe—and she very much liked what she saw. A second, crucial part of his anatomy had also perked up with interest. “Do you have a fantasy?” she asked again, with feigned confidence. She’d tried to memorize all the fantasies fromRaunch—even the Erotically Advanced—hoping she’d remember all thechoreography.

He took a step toward her and her body started to smolder. “Oh, yeah,” he drawled, his voice as smoky as old whiskey. “I have a fantasy.” He reached out and put a hand on each shoulder, where his heat burned through the thin silk of herdress.

“I have this fantasy just about every damn day.” His hands slipped down to encircle her wrists, imprisoning them lightly, which made her shiver. Here it comes, she thought, hoping it was a scenario she’d at least heardof.

His voice hardened. “I have this fantasy that one day you’ll do what you’re told.” His hands tightened on her wrists. “I fantasize about you following my orders, like staying away from myhouse.”

Oh, dear. This wasn’t going at all the way she’d planned. He put his stern face right close to hers. “And for you to keep your nose clean and quit snooping—that’s a freakin’ wetdream!”

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