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      “Okay, but she’s out of your league. She comes from a real traditional family—not like the how-many-marriages-can-I-have one like ours. Her mom is Evelina Belchoir. She has a syndicated television talk show for couples.”

      He’d heard of her mom. Which said a lot, because Jack didn’t watch television. But Moira, his secretary, took her lunch break every day at one o’clock so she wouldn’t miss a minute of Evelina’s advice.

      Jack and Ty’s mom had been the stay-at-home, cookies-after-school type, but she’d kept marrying, trying to find something…Jack still didn’t know what. She was motherly and doting and she’d move the world for her boys. But she’d never had good relationship skills.

      “Does Lauren date?” Jack asked. He wanted to know everything about her. God, what did that say about him? Why did he have a hunger for her when they’d only just met? He had no answers.

      “Funny you should ask. She’s got her listeners searching for Mr. Right. In fact, the idea for this Mile of Men promotion came from her show. You should tune in to her show tonight,” Ty said with that sly grin of his.

      Jack shrugged. Ty said goodbye and went into his meeting. Jack walked out to his car on the snowy February Tuesday. He didn’t know what to make of Lauren, but he knew he wasn’t going to let her be.

      Two

      Lauren wasn’t sure she liked the idea of being on in the morning, when more listeners would be tuning in. But the matter was out of her hands.

      She adjusted her headphones as the last notes of Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing” played. The song had long been a favorite of hers, but tonight it had been requested by one of her listeners who’d gotten off work early and was heading home to his wife. Three o’clock was a weird time of night. Usually she took callers and just talked out her own problems.

      God, she was a mess. Because tonight the only thing she’d been able to think about was Jack Montrose. She’d found a picture of him in Radio and Records magazine. The issue was a few months old and had been playing up the fact that he’d taken a passion for doing what he loved and made it into a profitable venture. Speed Demon Records produced only new artists who created music in the spirit of old Motown classics from the forties and fifties.

      “That was Marvin Gaye for Larry, heading home to his wife. If you’re just tuning in, I’ll be moving to the morning drive show starting next week. And I’m still searching for Mr. Right.

      “I’m taking callers tonight to be signed up for WCPD’s first annual Mile of Men. We’re looking for Detroit’s sexiest men to line Woodward Avenue starting at the Fox Theatre. Eligible women will then drive by and select a man by the number on his chest. They’ll spend the day together and then everyone will be treated to a party at the Hilton downtown.

      “Complete rules are available on our Web site. Listeners, you know I’ve been searching for Mr. Right, so help me find one to choose from for the station’s big event.”

      Lauren pushed the button for the commercial break and looked over at the panel phones that were flashing with callers. Rodney, her producer, was answering the calls that came in and sending her a queue on her computer screen. She’d worked with Rodney for the last three years, and they had a good rhythm. Lauren read the caller names. Jack on line two made her pause. Jack Montrose?

      Then she chided herself. It was three o’clock in the morning. Surely someone like Jack Montrose had other things to do than listen to her show.

      She still had a minute-thirty until the commercial break was over. She pushed line two. “Hello, caller.”

      “Lauren?” he asked. His voice brushed over her like the remembered warmth of a summer’s day.

      She took a quick inward breath. It was him. She had no idea what to say. She almost dropped the call. But she’d never been cowardly with anyone and she wasn’t about to start behaving that way now. “Jack Montrose.”

      “Am I on the air?” he asked.

      Though she probably would have been smarter to wait until they were on the air, she hadn’t. “No.”

      “Good. I’m not much on being in the public eye.”

      “I thought you didn’t listen to my show.”

      “Once I met you, I had to give it a listen.” Amusement laced his words. He sounded relaxed and almost lazy.

      She pictured him sitting in front of a warm fire in a luxuriously appointed den, with a brandy snifter in his hand. The fire would flicker over his skin, which would be warm to the touch. In her mind, she put herself in the room with him. Settled next to him on an overstuffed couch. But those kinds of dreams were dangerous.

      No one knew that better than her. She’d been loved and left many times. Bob was only the most recent. The men who turned her on were always all wrong for her.

      “What do you think of the show?” she asked. She didn’t need his approval. But she wanted him to like what she did. This was a big part of who she was. More than a job, it was a calling, and she liked the dark hours after midnight.

      “That I was right about your voice. You’ve been driving me out of my mind all night. Between that and those seductive songs you play.” There was something alluring in his voice.

      It didn’t help matters that she’d spent the entire evening thinking of him as the slow, sensual songs played out. She remembered his hand on her shoulder. His touch burning through the thin layer of her clothing. What would it be like to have him caress her bare skin?

      She shivered. Damn it. She was at work. Rodney rapped on the glass separating them and gestured to the clock. Forty-five seconds remained on the break.

      “They were all requests. Do you have one? Is that why you called?”

      “No. I called to talk to you. To have you to myself for a few minutes.”

      She couldn’t respond to that. It was as if somehow he’d glimpsed a part of her she’d always hidden. She wanted to be some man’s late-night fantasy. Not like Bob, who’d dumped her at midnight, saying that she was too independent and made him feel like a wimp.

      “I’ve got to get back to work.”

      “Can I meet you for coffee when you’re done with your shift?”

      “Why?” she asked. God, she was running out of time. And she didn’t know if she was happy about it. Be happy, she warned herself. This man has danger written all over him. Not physical jeopardy but the more chancy kind that would leave scars on her already battered heart.

      “I want to get to know you better, Lauren.”

      She closed her eyes. She should just hang up. But she couldn’t. She wanted to get to know him better, as well. Wanted for the first time in her life to be wrong about a guy. But this wasn’t just about her. Ray thought Jack was perfect for the Mile of Men. “Give Rodney your number and I’ll call you back.”

      Jack sank deeper into the leather seat of his Jaguar and let the sensuous sounds of Lauren’s voice play over him. He sat in the nearly deserted parking lot of WCPD. Lauren had agreed to a quick cup of coffee, and he didn’t question the reasons why getting to know this one woman was so important to him. He only knew that he had to see her again.

      In the long hours since their morning encounter he’d been plagued by the memory of her shoulder under his palm, her fingers brushing his and the surety that her lips would be soft under his.

      He’d called the woman he’d been seeing and told her he couldn’t see her anymore. She’d been disappointed but not overly so. The fact that their relationship had ended after only four months didn’t really bother either of them. It had been…satisfying while it lasted.

      But he knew he wasn’t going to rest easy until he’d unraveled the mystery

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