"I can't believe you gave something like that to him." Candace chuckled. "Who would've guessed sweet little Hannah could be so devious?"

"Thanks. I feel guilty enough already. My better instincts told me I shouldn't do it. I just wish I could find a way to get it back without telling him what I did."

"You could always steal it back."

The suggestion started the Mission Impossible theme playing in her head. "Sure. I can go from conniving manipulator to master thief. Thanks for the great advice." Hannah snorted softly. "The next time I need an idea that could land me in jail, I'll remember to call you."

"You're welcome, sweetie. That's what friends are for."

For the first time in her life, she felt as if Candace truly liked her.

"The problem is, I don't think I care for the effect my transformation has had on the way people feel about me."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm making more enemies than friends lately. Every woman I work with is whispering behind my back." Even Callie had seemed a little distant at lunch that day. She told Candace about finding the flat tires on her car on Monday afternoon.

"Sour grapes, honey. The last thing any woman wants is more competition. They're just upset that the ugly duckling has become a swan. But don't worry, for every female friend you lose, you'll attract three new male admirers."

Hannah wasn't sure she liked that trade-off, but she couldn't give up now. If dressing to attract men's attention could make Jordan jealous enough to reconsider his stance on marriage, it would be worth a few dirty looks from her coworkers. And if she had to let a few lechers ogle her in the process-so be it.

The trill of Hannah's laughter made Jordan grip his pencil so hard it snapped in half. On his last count of voices, five of his vice presidents were still hanging around her desk, trying to top one another's jokes.

In the week since Hannah traded her matronly attire for a sex kitten's wardrobe, men had been prowling his outer office like a pack of hungry wolves after catching the scent of a helpless lamb.

In fact, according to the office grapevine-which couldn't be trusted but usually held an element of truth-even Stanley Pulaski had the gall to ask Hannah out after the charity auction.

Jordan stomped over to the door and flung it open. "If I recall correctly, gentlemen, the staff meeting ended over half an hour ago. If you all have so little to do, you could spend the weekend writing up a report to justify your positions with this company."

Bryce spread his hands. "Cut us some slack, JC. It's after five-o'clock."

"Then you should all be heading home to beat the Friday rush-hour traffic, shouldn't you?" Jordan glared at the two married executives in the group. "Won't your wives have dinner waiting for you?"

The younger one dragged his gaze away from Hannah's breasts. "We were just-"

"I know what you were all doing." The drool was so deep out there he needed hip boots to leave his office.

Hannah pursed her lips suppressing an obvious smirk.

"Bye, Hannah." Bryce waved. "Don't forget, we have a date for lunch on Monday."

"And we're still on for dinner on Saturday," Jeff Burton reminded her.

After all five men filed out the double doors, Jordan spun toward Hannah. "And you stop encouraging them. You should've left twenty minutes ago."

She stared at him in wide-eyed innocence. "What'd I do?"

"What'd I do?" he parroted in a sarcastic sing-song voice. "You know damn well." He waved his hand toward the clingy black blouse crisscrossed between her lush breasts and tied at the waist. "Since the charity auction, you've been waltzing into the office dressed like you're heading for the red-light district."

She followed him into his office, smoothing the wrinkles in her short black and white hound's-tooth skirt. "My wardrobe is completely professional and no different than any other executive assistant's. I saw three secretaries wearing outfits in the same style today."

"Other women don't have bodies like yours."

"Aren't they lucky. So you don't have a problem with how I'm dressed-just that I'm not self-conscious about my figure anymore."

He spun in the middle of the room to face her. "Don't twist my words to make it sound as if I want you to be ashamed of your body. Just quit showcasing it."

"Why should I have to hide my shape?"

"Because my vice presidents were all so busy trying to look down your blouse at the staff meeting today they couldn't pay attention to what was being said. I guarantee, every man in that conference room walked out with a blue ribbon hard-on."

Including him. And having Trudy Hoffman, of all people, witness his frustration and jealousy had been mortifying. The vice president left the meeting wearing a definite self-satisfied sneer, obviously deriving great pleasure in seeing him humbled by his desire for only one woman.

Toe-to-toe, Hannah tipped her head back and gazed up at him for several heartbeats, challenge flashing in her silver eyes. "There is nothing indecent about my clothing. It's not my fault if some of the men working for you are sex-crazed horn-dogs who can't discipline their minds. Or should I say their penises?"

"Maybe if you didn't keep encouraging them by smiling at them, they could focus on their jobs."

"I smile at everyone."

He couldn't refute that. One of the things he liked most about her was her friendly nature and how up-beat she always was.

"Why don't we address the real problem, Jordan? It doesn't bother you that all those men want me. You're just upset because you do, too."

"That's where you're wrong. It bugs the hell out of me that every man in this company wants to get into my assistant's pants. All week, you've been encouraging those hounds to the point one of them is eventually going to step over the line with you, and I'll be forced to terminate him. If you ask me, you need that spanking I never got around to giving you."

She lifted her chin a notch. "Maybe I do. Perhaps in my quest to become less self-conscious, I've gone too far. But don't you understand how incredible it feels to finally be seen as a sexually desirable creature by men, instead of some piece of efficient office equipment? Can you blame me for wanting to explore my sexuality?"

Not at all. He just wanted her to do it with him. "If you need a lover that much, I'll be happy-"

"Then you do want to sleep with me again?"

"Believe me, sleeping is the last thing on my mind."

"But you don't deny you want me in your bed?"

"On the floor, against a wall...." He swept his hand around his office. "Hell, on top of my desk. You pick a surface, baby, and I've thought about having you there wiggling naked beneath me."

"If I'm going to be on the bottom, personally, I prefer a bed." She chuckled. "Much softer on the back."

"Go ahead, laugh." She had no idea how he ached for her. It seemed like he'd been perpetually hard since Wednesday night, which couldn't be good. There was a reason the FDA required a warning label on erectile dysfunction medications urging consumers to seek medical attention if an erection lasted more than four hours.

Except most men would take out a front-page ad in the NY Times to announce a four-hour woody. Hell-as much time as he'd been stiff since he dropped her off at her apartment two nights ago, he was lucky it hadn't developed gangrene.

"Okay." Hannah strode across the room and slapped his desk blotter. "Let's go."

"What?"

"You were offering your services as a lover, weren't you?" She untied the bow at her hip and unwrapped her blouse, revealing a low-cut, black push-up bra trimmed in lace.

He dashed to the door and slammed it. "Are you crazy? Anyone could wander in here."

"Then it might be a good idea if you lock the doors."

Every one of his brain cells shouted, This isn't a good idea. What if Preston or one of the other board members finds out. Unfortunately, the rest of the nerves in his body screamed louder, You fool, this is exactly what you've been aching for.

After racing to lock the outer entrance to the suite and hearing the deadbolt click on his office door, he turned and crossed the room in several long strides. His hands trembling, he slid Hannah's blouse off her shoulders and tossed it on his chair. While he unclasped her bra, he nibbled on her throat and breathed in her floral scent.

"It seems like years instead of only two days since I was inside you. You have no idea how much I've thought about this since then."

"It couldn't be half as much as I have." She dragged his tie off and ripped open his shirt buttons. "I haven't thought about anything else."

"Ditto." Cupping her soft breasts in his palms, he crushed her mouth under his and a picture of her nursing his baby filled his mind.

Damn. Why the hell was he thinking about babies again?

"This is a mistake," he murmured.

As he kissed his way down her neck, she panted and smoothed her hands up his bare chest. "I don't care."

"Me neither." Despite the soothing ocean sounds on the CD she'd given him, he kept waking up aching for Hannah.

While she jerked his fly open, he dug a condom out of his wallet. He could open the sofa bed, but that would take sixty seconds too long. Instead, the moment he finished covering himself, he lifted her onto his desk and lowered her back on the blotter. As he stripped her black silk panties off, he silently thanked her for wearing stockings instead of pantyhose.

Lifting her skirt, he pressed a kiss to her curls and flicked his tongue at her feminine cleft. The taste and musky scent of her turned him even harder. Harder than he ever remembered being. "Daaaamn. You're already drenched."

"That's what happens when I think about having you inside me." She gasped. "I want you. Right now."

He pulled her hips to the edge of the desk and groaned, entering her with one powerful thrust. He slowly withdrew so he could experience the bliss all over again.

"More," she pleaded.

Again, he plunged himself into her slippery sheath and gradually pulled out a second time, inch by inch. As he stroked her nipples, desire flared in her eyes. She looked so beautiful, lying there all flushed. So inviting, so welcoming.

"Please, don't tease me like this." She pouted up at him.

"Oh, you don't like being teased? Neither do I, Hannah. You've put me through hell the last two days."

"What have I done that was so awful?"

"You exist." He plowed into her heat again.

"What?" She arched her back while he slid his full length out just as slowly as before, torturing himself as much as her.

"You breathe the same air I do." He drove between her thighs a fourth time. "You smile at other men and laugh at their jokes."

He gradually withdrew again and she begged, "Pleeease."

"You stroll in here looking like that damn X-rated dream that haunts me at night." He thrust into her passage and groaned. "You keep chewing on your damn lip and making-"

She locked her legs around him to prevent him from pulling out again. "Please. Just take me."

The moment he began to pump his hips more quickly, his brain ceased to function. All he could focus on was how good she felt squeezing his aroused flesh-how her sexy panting turned him on, and how much he wanted to take her like this every day for the rest of his life. Just her. No one else.

Despite the countless times he'd taken her in Washington, she was still nearly as tight as the first time.

Dr. Arnold Kegel should've gotten a Nobel Prize in medicine.

Jordan thrust harder and faster with each stroke, cursing how vulnerable she made him feel. And the way she made him need her. Murderous rage swelled in his gut at the thought of another man making love to her.

Her gasps and whimpers simply fueled his passion.

"Yes, that's so, so good." She writhed on the desktop.

Her eager wiggling kept breaking his rhythm. He wanted total and complete control. To brand her. To be so far inside her no other man would ever be able to touch her there.

The volume and octave of her shrieks rose each time he plunged into her. "Oh, yes! Oh, yes! Oh, yes!"

When the sounds of her delighted squeals rose to such a fevered pitch they were nearly inaudible, he teased her nipples and thrust faster and harder. "That's it, sweetheart. Come for me again like no other man will ever make you come."

She gasped and moaned and squirmed until she eventually shuddered violently a second time, calling out, "Oh, Jordan, I love you!"

No. He refused to let himself believe that. He simply wouldn't.

It was one thing for him to care for her, but he couldn't let himself count on her loving him.

Gripping her hips, he continued driving like a jackhammer into her pulsating heat. He had to smother the raging fire in his groin. To quench this all-consuming need for her. To blot her out of his dreams.

Finally, he exploded in a haze of mind-numbing pleasure.

It was only after he pulled out of her a few moments later, he knew. He could never satisfy his hunger for this woman.

He could only feed it. Or deny it.

Chapter 17.

no adv. 1 An expression of refusal, denial, disbelief, or disagreement. 2. Not at all; not by any degree. 3. A negative response; a denial or refusal.

A time comes when every people-pleaser must learn to say no and put her own needs first-preferably before she louses up her life.

Hannah stared up at Jordan in a daze for what seemed like forever. The power and fury in his lovemaking had aroused her more than she ever would have imagined. She never dreamed a little primal passion could be such a turn-on. The discovery that she could incite him to that kind of raw, uncontrolled passion gave her a glimmer of hope that he might actually be falling in love with her.