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defeat pulled at her features.
    Shit. “Hey—” He tilted her chin up so she’d look at him. “It’s going to be okay.”
    She cocked her head. “Yeah? Ben, you know me better than anybody and you laughed at the idea. I’m not cut out for this. I can promote the hell out of it. I know I can. But I can’t do it. Me? A Sex Goddess? Seriously, can you picture that?”
    You have no idea . “Fake it,” he said with a shrug. When she scowled, he grabbed her hands and squeezed. “I’m serious, Reese. It’s five steps, right?”
    “Ten.”
    “Okay, so you’ll do ten things, pretend you’re one of her Slut Hotness converts, and you’ll have the job of your dreams.” He shrugged again. “Fake it.”
    She took a deep breath and some of the tension left her face. “Are you sure you’re not just saying this so you can see me wear skimpy clothes?”
    “It’s an added bonus.”
    She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thank you, Ben.”
    He shut his eyes, resisting the urge to pull her body close. “Sure thing.”
    Tucking his chin, he buried his nose in her hair, taking a hit of her scent, that soft and feminine smell that haunted him.
    She drew away. “You seem different lately. Is something wrong?”
    “Work stuff is getting to me.” And it was the truth, if only part of it. “I have big plans and Dad—” He cut himself off with a shake of his head. He didn’t want to talk about Hawk Construction right now. He didn’t want to talk about anything. He wanted to keep her in his arms as long as he could get away with.
    She studied him silently for a minute. “You want more,” she said simply.
    She had no idea. And for the first time since he had knocked on her door six years ago, Ben let himself consider the possibility of taking what he wanted.
     
***
     
    The gorgeous creatures surrounding Reese didn’t need Sex Goddess Bootcamp. They needed a mirror.
    “Can we leave now?” Reese asked Mason as they entered the convention center and joined the masses of women milling around, waiting to be transformed.
    “Chin up, soldier. We’re doing this thing.”
    One week ago today, Ben had solved her sex goddess dilemma by telling her to fake it, and now she was here, ready to dive in to the biggest fake out of her life, grateful to have Mason by her side. Halie had encouraged her to bring a friend to Sex Goddess Bootcamp, citing better success rates for women who go through the program with a friend.
    How did one measure success of a program like this? Number of jaws dropped? Number of one-night stands?
    Reese eyed the women around her and felt her own attractiveness drop exponentially. Some lithe, some curvy, some blonde, some brunette, one even sporting purple streaks in her platinum ’do—every one of these women was beautiful. Reese might not know the designer name brands, but she recognized expensive clothes when she saw them. Of course, with a weekend at Sex Goddess Bootcamp running nearly a thousand dollars—more for those who would continue on with SG 101—the experience attracted the kind of women who could afford nice clothes.
    “Did you remember to bring your five most flattering outfits?” The woman at the registration desk asked.
    Reese hefted her garment bag onto the table and took a breath. She could do this. “I hope they’re okay.”
    The woman waved a hand dismissively. “It doesn’t really matter. It’s a learning opportunity . Now go on in, the Goddess will be with you shortly.”
    Reese and Mason exchanged a look.
    “Are you going to have to call her that when you work for her?” Mason asked in a whisper.
    Reese shook her head. “I couldn’t. Not with a straight face.”
    They wandered into the gymnasium and were ushered into a line of women standing in front of the bleachers.
    Reese made fists to keep herself from fidgeting.
    “My, oh my, there is some sexy going on in here!” Halie McCormack strode into the room, all long legs, high heels, and thousand