Jane wore all black. Or rather, the black wore her
Displayed her. Intimately. Right down to the hot-pink hoochie-mama sandals on her feet.
Dazed, Dom focused on her hot-pink toenails, and then ran his gaze up every luscious curve to her hot-pink sirenâs lips. Say something. The message flashed to his muddled brain. âYouâre late.â
Her chin rose. âYes. You have a problem with that?â
He slowly shook his head. His eyes moved from her lips to her breasts: gifts from the gods, cruelly covered.
He lurched helplessly on his bar stool and forced his curiously rubbery legs to the ground. Dom peeled his dry lips apart. âYouâre dressed to kill.â
Her mouth curved. âItâs appropriate for the occasion.â
Oh man, oh man. Sheâs here to lose on purpose! As soon as heâd shown her who was boss and tossed her out of his life, sheâd come back apologizing and now she wanted him badly enough to lose at a game of pool.
Dom grinned, displaying every tooth he owned, feeling in control again. âWell, then. Letâs get this game over with.â
Dear Reader,
Have you ever found yourself thinking, âThat guy would be perfect if onlyâ¦â? Maybe itâs his attitude. Maybe itâs his clothes or his posture. Maybe itâs his table manners. Something stops him from being that man of your dreams.
Well, I sure have! And in this world of being able to upgrade a flight to first class, a room to ocean view, or your wardrobe to fabulousâI wondered, wouldnât it be great if we could also upgrade our men?
Thatâs how I came up with the concept behind my new miniseries, THE MAN-HANDLERSâwomen who make over their men. Whoâs on Top? is the story of lovable control freak Jane OâToole and alpha male Dominic Sayers, two incredibly strong-willed people who are each determined to best the other. Watch as the sexual sparks between them blaze a trail from the office to the bedroom! And place your bets on the winner. Youâll be the final judge of whoâs on top! I hope you enjoy getting to know Jane and Dom as much as I enjoyed creating them.
And I love to hear from readers! Visit me at my Web site at www.KarenKendall.com, where you can enter my monthly contest and find information about upcoming releases. Or you can write to me in care of Harlequin Books, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario M3B 3K9, Canada.
Happy reading!
Karen Kendall
P.S.âLook for the next book in the series, Unzipped?, Blaze #201, coming in September 2005!
To my husband, Don, who has resisted most of my attempts to upgrade himâbecause, of course, he is perfect! And to my wonderful editor, Wanda Ottewell. Thanks for everything.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
IF ONLY MONDAY WERE A HOT, half-naked man, I wouldnât mind starting every week with it. Jane OâToole yawned.
Whether youâre a sanitation worker or a CEOâor in my case, bothâMondays justâ¦suck.
She emptied the last wastebasket into the trash bag, tied a knot into the top of the bag and set it outside the office door, breathing deeply of the crisp October air.
Farmington, Connecticut, was at its most beautiful in autumn, nestling among the fall foliage under royal-blue skies. A town of twenty-one thousand, Farmington personified New England, abundant with neat Cape Cods punctuated with maple, oak and elm trees. Window boxes hadnât yet lost their colorful blooms to the winter, and the wind sang through leaves of spectacular gold, rich tawny cinnamon, eggplant and even burgundy.
Such a gorgeous day to be stuck in the office. She left the door open to let the sunshine in, bathing the room and its antique-reproduction furniture in gold. Wryly Jane noted that the light also illuminated every dust mote stuck to the dark wood. And the once-pristine arrangement of dried roses on the coffee table lookedâ¦hairy.
Is it possible to dust dried flowers? she wondered. If she blew on them, sheâd sneeze. If she vacuumed them, sheâd be left with headless stems. And surely the duster in the closet would only add blue feathers to the unappetizing hair.
Jane dreamed of a cleaning service one day, but the business was too fragile, too new, to justify the expense right now. Sheâd conceived Finesse a year ago, while working at her miserable job in corporate employee assistance. Her M.A. in psychology had qualified her to be a glorified babysitter and paper pusher, and after eight years sheâd had enough. So had her friends Shannon Shane, a would-be actress, and Lilia London, whoâd been a receptionist for a law firm.
Jane had envisioned a business of their own: a training center for personal and career enhancement. Open now for nine months, Finesse did consulting on employee management issues and some general counseling (Janeâs specialty), image/communication (Shannonâs) and business etiquette (Liliaâs).