Sultry in Stilettos (10 page)

Her excitement was infectious. “We can
also do camel rides and the full tent sheik theme. So from the
sounds of it, sounds like we’re traveling counter clockwise so far.
Where do you want to end?”

“I’m thinking we can end in Marrakesh.
There’s this palace there a prince built for the love of his life.
We’ve used it before.” She clapped her hands. We can also use the
deserts of Arizona for the best stargazing. Since she’s all about
the alignment of stars and stuff. She thinks the two of them
meeting was fate.”

“Shit. Great idea. Then after here, we
can go to Dubai for the full party scape, then to Marrakesh to
close.”

She giggled. “Around the world in
eighty days, using the sands of time to bind and unify their love.
Well less than eighty days, but you get the idea.”

“Holy shit. Did you just come up with
that?”

She nodded. “Yep. Who do you think
writes a lot of the romance fantasy slogans?”

He blinked at her. The next words were
out of his mouth before he could recall them. “You shouldn’t let
Angel get to you. Serena either. Angel’s spoiled and knows she’s
deficient, so she deliberately tried to make you feel bad. Serena
only cares about what’s going to make her look good.”

Ricca dropped into the couch and
wrapped her arms around herself. “I’ve been dealing with women like
her all my life. It’s no big deal.”

Irritation skimmed his skin. “It is a
big deal. I know Zach overlooks your work because he’s not paying
attention. I know it’s not fair. I also know it’s not fair to you
that you have to compete with me for this gig. We both know you’ve
got more experience. Doesn’t change the fact that I want this job
pretty bad. But I promise you I’ll play fair. Give credit where
it’s due. I’m not going play dirty.”

She met his gaze, then darted hers to
her lap. “I…uh. I appreciate that. I really want this job too. I’ve
worked hard for it.”

He pondered for a minute before he
said anything. “How about we both do the best job we can and see
what happens? No funny business.”

For the first time all night, she gave
him a genuine Ricca smile. “You have a deal.”

Now or never.
Ricca sucked in a deep breath, or rather as deep
a breath as the corseted blouse would allow. Looking down at
herself, she almost chickened out. The red, Betsy Johnson, corseted
wrap blouse strained against her breasts, and her cups damn near
runneth over. Her slim pencil skirt with the thigh-high slit forced
her to walk with a swing in her hips.

She felt—sexy. Before
evil-Angel-must-die day, sexy was the last thing she’d have been
looking for. Now, it kind of felt—amazing. Micha had picked out a
slew of clothes that were body conscious and provocative without
being so over the top and revealing. It sure did help when one of
your best friends ran a fashion and entertainment
magazine.

Pausing for a moment before she opened
the door to the conference room, Ricca tipped up her chin,
plastered a bright smile on her face, and shook out her hair. “Game
on.”

Three things happened simultaneously
as she opened the door. Zach, who was in the middle of a
conversation with Serena did a literal double take and gawked,
going so far as to have his jaw unhinge. Serena’s eyes bugged open,
then she gave Ricca a secret smile and an approving nod. And Angel
caught one look at Ricca and coughed her mocha latte all over her
Gucci, winter-white, leather pants.

Ricca smirked to herself. Really, who
was wearing leather these days? And any self-respecting woman with
a real body wouldn’t have been caught dead in white pants. Leather
or otherwise.

Ricca retained her smile and forced
her usual cheery, ”Good morning, everyone,” out of her lips. Only a
couple of people returned the greeting. The rest just
stared.

She picked one of the last few empty
seats and made it a point to look everyone in the eye. Prison
rules—just like Micha said. Meet everyone in the eye and let them
know you are unafraid.

Emily Reed actually gave Ricca a
genuine smile, eye crinkle and all. “You look great,” she
whispered. “Is that the new Betsy Johnson blouse?”

Ricca smiled and nodded. “A friend
went to the show in New York and snagged me one.”

“Really cute.” Emily turned back to
her notepad, all the while dodging the death glares from
Angel.

Had Ricca misjudged the lot of them
based on Angel and her colossal bitchiness? Go figure.

Late as usual, Beckett sauntered in at
two minutes after nine, gave his boys his usual what up nod, and
scanned the room for an empty seat. When his gaze met Ricca’s, he
gave her his usual sunny smile, but it immediately darkened the
moment his eyes roamed lower, landing at full-blown
scowl.

Thanks to his tardiness, there were
only two available seats. One next to her, and the other next to
Angel. He plunked himself down beside Ricca and grunted, “Hey.” But
he didn’t look at her.

Fine by her.

As the meeting commenced, Ricca paid
her usual studious attention, but every now and again, the hair on
her neck stood at attention, and she’d look up to find one of the
adventure boys openly gawking at her.

More than once it was Zach, a couple
of times it was Carter. Even Tim from Accounting slid her a glance
once or twice. Even the women stared at her with curiosity, or in
Angel’s case, blatant contemp. Not one of them was paying attention
to the meeting. Is this what Serena had been talking about when she
mentioned commanding a room?

At one point, Beckett nudged Ricca’s
notepad and sent her pen rolling to the floor. Before she could
even bend down to pick it up, both Carter and Tim were on their
feet, offering her a pen and simultaneously bending to pick up
hers.

Holy cow
. Was this what Serena had been talking about? ‘Cause she
could get used to this. The job was hers for the taking.

****

Beckett’s body ached from exertion,
and his mind was groggy from too little sleep. But last night had
been worth it with Ricca. In those lost hours when they’d been
working together, he’d felt like he did in the old days. They’d had
fun and come up with a kick ass plan for the Master Fantasy. As
long as he managed to stop from thinking about how she tasted, he’d
be fine.

Except, his ears perked up
at the
click-clack
of heels in the office next door. She was back from lunch. As
the sound drew nearer to the door, he held his breath. He’d already
seen her side-show act in the morning meeting, and he was in no
mood to get another round of sexy Ricca. He didn’t have time to go
and grab a cold shower.

But his body was already
starting to remind him of its fifteen-year-old self, when he could
only think about Sarah Lawrence and her short cheerleading skirts.
This time, his mind could only think about Ricca Monroe and her
slit-to-here skirt and fuck-me shoes that gave him all kinds of
ideas about Ricca on his desk.

Every time she passed his
office, she flashed her sunny smile, and he groaned. Those lips of
hers made Monica Bellucci's look as thin as paper, and she'd topped
them with something pink and tasty looking. Hell. What the fuck was
wrong with him? He ran his hands through his hair, trying to get
his mind on the game and on the project.

Ricca had already turned his brain to
mush. This morning, it looked like she’d done the same with every
other Y-chromosome in the building. The hair, the clothes, the
makeup—it was all as if she’d morphed into the cinnamon version of
Jessica Rabbit. With every shy smile and sashay across a room, the
guys in the office had been dropping like flies. He’d already had
to verbally flog two of the adventure guys for skulking around his
office door, trying to get a look at her.

A brief knock had him snapping his
head up, hoping for Ricca. Instead, Carter, one of his adventure
fantasy planners stood waiting—nowhere near as good.

“Hey, man, you wanted to see
me?”

Beckett waved him in. “Yeah, Carter,
have a seat.“ As soon as Carter parked it, Beckett started running
through their plan. “Okay, so Ricca and I came up with a template
for the fantasy. But this whole thing hinges on the Paris to Dakar
race.”

Carter blew out a low whistle. “My dad
did that once. Told me some guy almost lost his life when his car
flipped. It’s a wicked race though.”

“Tell me about it. Jaya’s husband had
planned to do it before they got together. But he’s rethinking it a
little.” Beckett had never really warmed to Alec. He and Jaya had
been so close before Mr. Most Eligible Bachelor had rolled into the
picture. It wasn’t like he hated the guy, but they weren’t
buddies.

“So you want me and the team working
on logistics?”

Beckett shook his head. “Not yet. I
want you getting us into that race. Ricca pointed out that
registration was already closed. And the entries are already full.
I need you to pull some strings and get a couple of cars in there.”
Carter’s mother had been a diplomat for the UK since he was a kid.
Their combined connections had helped the adventure team on more
than one occasion.

Carter frowned. “They’ll never let
Roberto drive, you know that, right? He has no racing experience.
Best we can get is for him to be a navigator.”

“Already ahead of you there. I’ll be
his driver.”

“Hoo—oly shit. Are you
serious?”

“Not my first rodeo, so to speak. And
certainly not my first rally car race. We also need to get another
two cars in there. One for logistics, and one for
filming.”

Carter shook his head, but grinned.
“You don’t ask for much, do you?”

“Not really. Ricca’s insistent that
the fantasy won’t be the same without this race, and I’m inclined
to agree with her. We need to get in.”

“I’m on it. We’ll see what we can pull
off. As you know, they haven’t done the Paris-Dakar leg in those
countries for years.”

“Yeah, it’s in Brazil this year.
Doesn’t really go with our theme.” He mulled it over for a minute.
“Can you find me a good alternative in case it won’t
work?”

“Will do.” Carter glanced around,
presumably to make sure no one was walking past the open door.
“Speaking of Ricca—what the hell happened to her? Holy hell, man, I
thought my tongue was going to fall out of my mouth in this
morning’s meeting.”

Beckett narrowed his eyes. He didn’t
like the new direction of their conversation. He opted for
nonchalance. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“What are you? Dead?
Shit, man. I thought I’d need to go home for a
change of clothes."

Beckett frowned. Not like
he was jealous or anything. He and Ricca were just friends. He
cleared his throat. “Don’t be a pig, Carter."

Carter made a mock
innocent face. "Who, me? I'm not being a pig. I'm just noticing
her, er, beauty, for the first time."

Blood simmered under Beckett’s skin.
“Watch your mouth.”

Carter held up his hands.
“Right. Sorry. I know she’s like your kid sister or
something.”
Or something
. “What’s the big deal? You’ve seen Ricca a million
times.”

“But not looking like she did today.
God, if I’d known she had that kind of body under that, I’d have
asked her out a year ago.”

Beckett tried to put the words coming
out of Carter’s mouth with Ricca, and a misty red haze crossed over
his field of vision. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Dude.
Back off of Ricca.”

Carter closed his eyes and
shook his head. "I don’t know who gave her the makeover, but I
could kiss them and give them my salary for a year. She looks
hot."

Beckett clenched his jaw.
Ricca did look beautiful. The way her new clothes fit her body and
showed off her curves was a revelation. But he felt like a lecher.
And so should Carter. "You’re only interested now because she's
showing skin. You never noticed her before."

"Of course I noticed her.
She's sweet. And always brought my favorite cake for my birthday.
Is it my fault that now I'm noticing her body too? She should never
have been hiding under those conservative outfits."

“Are you done yet?” Beckett asked
through clenched teeth.

Carter raised an eyebrow as he
chuckled. “Seriously man? You’re kidding me right? I never pegged
you as having a thing for her. She’s not exactly your
type.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to
mean?”

“You tend to prefer twiggy models.
Me?” He angled his head. “I like a woman with more meat on her
bones. And Ricca—wow. Who knew she was hiding all that under those
layers? You think she’ll go out with me?”

“She’s not a slab of meat.”

"She's a person, Carter,"
Carter mimicked Beckett in a sing song voice. "Holier than thou, my
ass. You want a piece too, I can tell. The way you've been all
moody around her and crowding her at the staff
meetings."

Beckett's hands clasped
together in a grip so tight his knuckles cracked with the effort to
stay together. Carter was a pig.
So are
you.
But he was less of a pig than Carter
was. At least he wasn't trying to get in Ricca’s pants. His dick
jerked in response. Okay, well at least his brain wasn’t trying to
get in her pants. His body had other ideas. Half of him would be
noble.
Could
be
noble.