you considered that the close physical proximity that showering affection might entail would break your rules for a premarital relationship?”
“Not if the parties set the ground rules before they enter the relationship.” Lucas tried to ignore an inner warning voice reminding him he was letting his testosterone get in the way of rational thinking. “Intelligent people shouldn’t allow their bodies to rule their minds.”
April smothered a comment. If he actually believed that garbage, where was the man in the black leather pants? The tight black leather pants. “Mind over matter—right. An interesting theory, but you seem to have forgotten the most important factors in the search for a lasting relationship.”
Lucas shifted uneasily in his chair and glanced at the door. Things were getting a little too warm for comfort. He would have given a bundle for another interruption. “And what factors are they?”
“There’s that popular scientific theory about the subconscious instinctive desire to find a mate with strong genes.”
“Of course.” Lucas shrugged. “However, it was my intention to show the sociological aspect of the mating game, not to dwell on what amounts to little more than what I call biolust.”
Biolust! April bit her lower lip to keep from bursting into laughter. “Interesting theory. So tell me—how have your rules worked for you?”
“I wasn’t looking for a mate,” he answered. “I was merely making important sociological observations.”
“While we’re at it,” April continued with a hopeless glance at his article, “how about love? Or isn’t falling in love supposed to enter the picture?”
Lucas thought of haunting memories of his warring parents, their sorry relationship, a divorce, remarriage and the subsequent death of his mother.
“Love is a transitory emotion and can be controlled,” he said. “Especially since it’s what gets in the way of an intelligent choice for a marital partner. At best, love only exists in novels and movies.”
Lucas paused to admire the fascinating golden sparks in April’s eyes.
“Lucas? You’ve gone somewhere else again!”
“Sorry,” he said. “Look, you’re quarreling over a serious study, April. Tom didn’t seem to think I was off base when he called me and asked me to write the article you have there.”
“That’s because he’s a man.” Or a true chauvinist like Sullivan himself. “However, since our magazine has more female than male readers, I honestly think you should try to lighten it up before it gets published.”
He looked incredulous. “The article was drawn from an empirical study. How the hell can it be lightened up?”
“Well, maybe you need to use a tongue-in-cheek approach. Or if you don’t like that, maybe a few female opinions are needed to sway you.”
Lucas straightened. “Are you’re going to offer me yours?”
The flame in April’s eyes grew brighter. “Are you asking?”
“Sure,” Lucas said, confident that April wouldn’t be able to come up with any valid reasons to change his article. Hell, if he began to doubt his research methods or his conclusions, he might as well admit to doubting himself. “I’m game. Go ahead.”
As far as he was concerned, the gauntlet had been thrown down and he was man enough to pick it up. Between Tom Eldridge’s remark about setting the magazine’s readership on fire with the article and April’s challenge to lighten it up, he could hardly sit by and just become an amusing topic of dinner conversation.
April considered giving him the whole nine yards of her opinion. If only the mental picture of the man as he’d appeared last night on stage didn’t keep getting in the way.
On the other hand, the idea of giving Sullivan a few lessons on what went on in the real world, instead of in books, became more enticing by the minute.
Of course, educating him wasn’t going to be easy. Like most of the men she’d already dubbed a “Sullivan,” he seemed to have the ability to compartmentalize the various areas of his life. As far as she was concerned, it was nothing more than tunnel vision.
She took off her glasses again. “To tell you the truth, I’ve decided not to waste time telling you what I think. I intend to take you out and show you. Humanize you a little.”
“I’m all yours,” he replied casually. “When do we begin?”
“Hot coffee, tea or…” To April’s dismay, the young office gofer, Arthur Putnam, cheerfully rolled a refreshment cart to the office door.
“Not now, Arthur, but thanks for the offer,” April said with a careful eye on Lucas. “We’re really busy here.”
Lucas held up his hand. “Just a minute, please. I don’t know about you, April, but after last night I could use a cup of strong, black coffee.”
Arthur’s eyes lit up at the mention of last night. “It’s not what you’re thinking, Arthur,” April said hastily. “Mr. Sullivan performed in a rock and roll band last night.”
Arthur closed his mouth. After a dubious glance at Lucas, he shrugged. “If you say so.”
Lucas reached into his jacket pocket, extracted a card and wrote on the back of it. “Drop in anytime—as my guest.”
Arthur’s face lit up. “Gee, thanks!”
April gave up trying to keep Sullivan’s mind on business, but she wasn’t through with him yet. As for Arthur’s visit, she would have been annoyed if she hadn’t known that Arthur was in the throes of puppy love, with her of all people, and had only been momentarily distracted.
At least Arthur wasn’t another Tiffany hitting on Lucas, April thought wryly. Judging from the number of women who’d found a need to pass by her office this morning, word about Sullivan’s presence had spread like wildfire.
Unfortunately, the morning was still young.
Resigned to the inevitable, at least for now, April beckoned to Arthur. She couldn’t bring herself to be upset with him. Not when he was one of the few men around the office who wasn’t impressed with his maleness.
“Come on in, Arthur. By the way, Lucas, this angel of mercy is Arthur Putnam. Arthur, this is Lucas Sullivan—he’s the author of an article we’re going to publish.”
Arthur was too busy gazing adoringly at April to reply.
“Arthur! Mr. Sullivan asked for a cup of black coffee.”
“Sorry.” Unabashed, a grinning Arthur tore his gaze away. He poured a cup of coffee and handed it over. “What’s the subject of your article?”
“I call it ‘The Mating Game.’ It’s not what you think,” Lucas added hurriedly when Arthur’s eyes widened. “It’s based on an earlier publication of mine, a sociological study about what men want in a wife.”
Arthur turned his adoring gaze back to April, his meaning clear. She was his idea of the ideal woman. “Anything for you, Ms. Morgan?”
“No, thank you. Perhaps later.”
“Sure. I’ll be back. You can bet on it.” With a last soulful look at April, Arthur rolled the beverage cart out the door.
Lucas smothered a grin. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed April’s striking appearance today.
Maybe it wasn’t too late to revise his article to include something about how a woman should dress in order to please the man she was interested in?
He looked at April. “You were saying before we were interrupted?”
“That there’s a great deal more to the attraction between the sexes than what you describe in your