Worse than letting your inebriated assistant rub her barely-covered crotch against your exposed dick?

"Believe me, Hannah"-he yanked up his fly-"if I gave you a breathalyzer test, it would show you're legally drunk. Two minutes ago, you confessed you've never had an orgasm, pulled down my fly, did a striptease that would put a burlesque queen to shame, and then shared one of your most intimate secrets. Do you really think the woman who swore she wouldn't tell me about her sex life would've been pinching her titties for me just now?"

She covered her face with one hand and held her dress in front of herself with the other. "Oh, dear Lord. I did do all of that, didn't I? You're going to fire me now, aren't you?"

"No, of course not." Dismissing her was at the very bottom of the list of things he was dying to do to her-most of which were X-rated. "I was even more responsible for letting things get out of hand. Put your clothes back on, and we'll chalk tonight up to a moment of drunken insanity."

He turned to stare out the tinted window, trying his damnedest not to watch the reflection of her bare breasts while she put on her bra. He was as bad as those pubescent boys who'd humiliated her.

Pretending he'd never seen her luscious tits or heard her admit the deficiency in her sex life was his only hope of remaining sane and being able to continue working with her.

Otherwise, he'd be condemned to spending his days picturing her spread out stark naked like an erotic buffet, begging him to show her what she'd been missing all her life.

Hannah pulled her dress back on. As the limo spun around her like a top, she grabbed the leather seat. Okay. So maybe she was a tad fuzzy.

Although, inasmuch as her mental replay of the last half-hour horrified her, she wasn't sorry about any of it. Through it all, one thing had become abundantly clear. Jordan aroused her in a way no other man ever had. She couldn't say if it had been the alcohol or the hypnosis that made her feel almost comfortable taking her dress off for him, but of one thing she was certain-she wanted him.

Even if it meant finding a new job.

Despite Jordan's feelings on marriage, she had to make sure they didn't have a chance at something lasting before she settled for a guy like Hank Stanzione or Jeff Burton from Marketing. Otherwise she would always wonder what could've been.

Hank and Jeff were both nice, hardworking guys, each of whom would probably be a great father and faithful husband. But she doubted either of them could ever make her pulse race the way Jordan did.

If she didn't try to change her boss's mind on matrimony before she compromised and said I do to Mr. Humdrum, she'd regret it the rest of her life. She needed to have a short affair with someone like Jordan so she could at least experience the passion she just had a taste of before she agreed to marry a man who was incapable of turning her insides to jelly.

The problem was, she couldn't suggest it or do anything like this ever again. Otherwise, she could definitely kiss her job good-bye. Somehow, she would have to convince Jordan it was completely his idea and get him to seduce her.

Hannah smoothed her skirt down and squeezed his arm. "I'm really sorry. I can't believe I came on to you that way again."

"Don't sweat it. It wasn't as if I discouraged you. Chalk it up to the drinks."

"Are you sure it was the alcohol that lowered my inhibitions and not my hypnosis?"

"Probably a combined effect." He raked his fingers through his hair. "To be honest, if I didn't know better, I'd swear I was the one who's been hypnotized."

The limo pulled up in front of her apartment building. She stared at him for several seconds, letting his words sink in.

She smiled. Why not?

Unfortunately, the likelihood of getting him to agree to hypnotherapy was a million to one, seeing as he'd made it clear he would choose Chinese water torture over marriage. And it wasn't as if she could simply ask Callie's sister to drop by his office and put him in a trance. He would have to want to get over his commitment phobia.

Diana's words reverberated through Hannah's memory. The subconscious is a powerful influence. It's why subliminal suggestion is so effective in advertising.

Maybe all Jordan needed was a little subconscious persuasion.

Saturday morning, Hannah spent two hours researching the subject of subliminal suggestion on the Internet. When the screen flipped to a site selling custom subliminal message CDs, her fingers stalled on her computer mouse.

All she had to do was give the company the script or list of affirmations she wanted encoded in the background of the CD, and they would send her a relaxing recording of ocean sounds masking her hidden message-all for only $39.95, plus shipping and handling.

Wrinkling her brow, she keyed in the statements she wanted included.

Married people are rarely lonely and always have a date.

Hannah is good company, and she makes me feel great.

Hannah excites me more than any woman I've ever been with.

What the heck. If she was going to do this, she might as well go for broke.

If I marry Hannah, I can make love to her every day for the rest of my life.

I'll be happy with Hannah.

Hannah can have my babies and help me become a good father to our children.

No one will ever love me like Hannah will.

The cursor hovered over the send button for a full minute while she considered the ethics of trying to brainwash Jordan into committing himself to her. Her better instincts kept screaming it was just wrong and nothing good could come of it.

Diana had insisted that no amount of hypnosis could make a person do anything that was morally repugnant to him. So would it really be that terrible to use subconscious prompts to remind him how much he wanted her and to convince him he wanted to spend the rest of his life in her bed? If he really didn't care for her, nothing would come of it. And no one would be the wiser or hurt.

Hannah hesitated several seconds more and finally ignored the voice of her conscience and clicked on the mouse's control. While finishing the transaction, she added express overnight shipping to her charges.

Now, all she needed was a sexy new wardrobe to give him a visual reminder of what he was passing up. Make him crave what he was determined to resist.

The trick would be finding professional looking outfits that still enticed him. It would probably cost a small fortune, but hey, it was her birthday tomorrow, and it wasn't as if her mother would be likely to remember it.

Again, the tiny voice of Hannah's conscience chastised her for trying to use Jordan's libido against him. On the other hand, would any man ever get married with sex taken out of the equation? And didn't Diana keep saying it wasn't Hannah's place to feel guilty if Jordan found her irresistible?

Besides, it wasn't as if she didn't have every intention of making him the happiest man alive for the rest of his life. She was buying this CD for his own good.

After blowing a half a week's pay on several make-him-drool outfits, Hannah swung by her grandmother's house on Sunday afternoon to pick up a supply of cookies from the big freezer in the basement and to see if Ruth might like to go out for a bite to eat to celebrate Hannah's birthday. "It's just me," she called, letting herself in the back door. "Are you home?" As Hannah wandered into the living room, Ruth swiped at her cheeks. "Grandma? Are you crying?"

"Of course not. Why would I?"

She peered into Ruth's glassy blue eyes. "You tell me. Didn't you have a good time with Edward yesterday?"

"Yes." She turned away, her shoulders shuddering. "He took me to a Phillies game. We sat right behind home plate."

Apparently, Edward wasn't above exploiting her grandmother's weakness for baseball to charm her. "If he did anything to hurt you-"

"No. He was a total gentleman."

"Then why in the world are you so upset?"

"H-he asked me to marry him," Ruth blubbered.

Hannah pressed her lips together to smother her smile. The man certainly worked fast. She supposed, at his age, time was precious and wasting even a minute would seem criminal.

"Edward has been alone a lot of years, Gram. Jordan told me you're the first woman his grandfather has had any interest in since Jordan's grandma died. I know you've only had two dates, but Edward evidently thinks he's found what he's been looking for all these years."

"I don't doubt that he believes that."

"Then why are you crying? So he's rushing things a little. Tell him you need some more time."

"But I don't. Losing your grandfather just about killed me. I won't go through watching someone I love die again."

"So then you do care for Edward?"

"I know it's silly to feel like this after only two dates."

"No, it's not." Hannah hugged Ruth and breathed in her comforting scent of lilacs. "Sometimes a woman knows the moment she meets a man that he's the one." It certainly had been that way for her. "Who's to say-"

"I don't want to talk about it. I'm glad you stopped by." Ruth wiped her eyes and then patted Hannah's cheek. "Now I won't have to sing Happy Birthday to you over the phone."

"I was sparing myself." Her grandmother was tone deaf and sang in a monotone. "And don't change the subject. The fact that you agreed to go to the dance with Edward proves you're ready to move on with your life."

"It's just because his pipe tobacco makes him smell like your grandpa." Ruth sniffled. "We have nothing in common."

Hannah did a double take. "What? That's nonsense. You both love to garden and watch baseball. You enjoy the same music and books. You danced like Fred and Ginger on Friday."

"But Grandpa and I always led a quiet life. I don't fit into Edward's world."

"Believe me, Gram, the man knows who you are. He's not looking for a trophy wife to help him climb the social ladder. He wants a companion to share his retirement. And I think you'd fit into his life just fine."

"Sure." Ruth snorted. "Just like a dandelion in a rose garden. Did you notice the size of his mansion? The guest suite I stayed in was bigger than the entire first floor of my house. When I took my dishes into the kitchen after breakfast, his housekeeper looked at me as if I'd lost my mind. I'm not used to people waiting on me hand and foot."

Hannah blew out an exasperated breath. What woman in her right mind would have a problem with living in the lap of luxury? "Give the guy credit for knowing what he wants."

Or doesn't want, her alter ego mentally countered, again making her question the wisdom and fairness of trying to change Jordan's stance on marriage.

It probably wouldn't work anyway, but one thing was certain-no matter how poor the odds of her success might be, Hannah wanted him too much not to try. After all, sometimes men lied to themselves about what they really wanted.

Kevin's infidelity had been proof he didn't have a clue what would make him happy. She'd been so blind not to see the handwriting on the wall at the engagement party his parents had generously held to announce their son's and Hannah's upcoming marriage.

It had started out as one of the happiest afternoons of her life, but that joy had ended the moment her mother walked in the door of the Jackson home, wearing a dress cut nearly to her navel.

"Candace, I didn't think you could make the party." Hannah had hugged her mother. "I'm glad you could come."

Liar. Secretly, she'd been relieved when her mother said she wasn't sure if she could clear her calendar.

"Well, I couldn't miss your special day, could I?"

Why not? She'd missed all her other special days.

"Besides, don't you think it's time I finally met your fiance and his parents?"

Almost as if on cue, they appeared beside Hannah. The shock on Bill Jackson's face convinced Hannah her fiance had never told his parents who her mother was.

Kevin's mom, Melanie, however, didn't seem to have an inkling about Candace's professional credits outside of the commercials and television shows, which explained the guilty expression Bill wore. Apparently he recognized her from his smutty magazines, which were no doubt his dirty little secret.

"It's such a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Oliver," Bill said after the introductions were made. He stared at Candace's cleavage. Hannah swore drool was about to dribble out of his open mouth and down his chin.

Candace preened under his lustful gaze. "Not nearly as big a pleasure as it is to meet you....and Melanie," she added in a purposeful afterthought. "Please call me Candy." Her gaze went on a leisurely tour of Bill's physique. "It's obvious where your son gets his good looks."

Hannah cringed inside when her mother then turned her dazzling smile on Kevin, who instantly fell under her spell.

"I'm a huge fan, Ms. Oliver. Your performance in Immortal Sin stole the movie."

"I don't believe I've ever seen the film you're talking about." Melanie smiled. "Is it a recent release?"

"Oh, no." Candace chuckled. "I did that one years ago, right after I posed for Playboy the first time," her voice echoed through the room during a momentary lull in the party's din. Melanie gasped as every guest's head turned.

Hannah squeezed her eyes shut. If only the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

Candace turned and took Kevin's arm. "I sure could use a drink about now. Why don't you show me to the bar, and we'll get better acquainted?"

"I'd love to."

As Kevin led Candace toward the other side of the room, Hannah overheard her mother say, "I know you must really love Hannah if she managed to catch a hunk like you."

Her disparaging tone and emphasis clearly suggested Candace considered the word 'she' and 'dowdy frump' interchangeable in Hannah's case.

From across the expanse of the room, Hannah watched Kevin eyeballing her mother's breasts every sixty seconds, no doubt envisioning the twin mounds bared the way he'd seen them in Immortal Sin.

All afternoon, she caught snippets of men's conversations.

...."imagine those luscious hooters bobbing in your face."

...."I'd die happy smothering in those."

...."what an incredible ass."

...."X-rated body."

Finally, Hannah couldn't stand it a second longer and searched for Kevin to ask if he wanted to join her outside for a breath of air. She eventually found him in the kitchen with her mother who sat at the table, autographing the cover of Kevin's Immortal Sin DVD while he peered down Candace's low-cut dress.

When Hannah turned on her heels and raced out the back door, Kevin dashed after her. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong!" she snapped. "You don't have any idea why I'm upset?"

"Look, I know I've spent a lot of time with your mom today-but I did it for you. Don't you want her to get to know me?"