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loosened necktie, then told Lucas, "I'm not sure I want Lauren Grable-Monroe in my magazine."
    Lucas smiled but turned to Mack. "Gimme a Tanqueray and tonic."
    Mack, of course, was way ahead of Lucas on that score. It was remarkable how she kept a catalogue of the drinking preferences of Drake's entire membership and began pouring the preferred beverage the moment she noted, the member's presence at the bar. She set Lucas's prepared drink before him, then dropped the Tanqueray bottle back into the well. But she didn't scurry off afterward, as Adam had assumed she would. Instead, she continued to study Lucas. With much interest.
    Dammit .
    "This is a story," Lucas finally continued, oblivious to Mack's interest, "that the readers of Man's Life would find very interesting."
    "And that would be because…" Adam spurred him.
    Lucas's smile turned predatory. "Because I intend to locate Ms. Lauren Grable-Monroe and find out just what her credentials—so to speak—are that would make her the self-appointed social guru of today's women."
    Adam sighed heavily but said nothing. He was torn between the dread of giving space to Lauren Grable-Monroe in any form and the ecstasy of filling that space with what might be a really satisfying diatribe against her. If anyone could write a flaming exposé of Lauren Grable-Monroe, it would be Lucas Conaway. The kid was a truly gifted writer.
    There were times when Adam frankly wondered what had made the kid accept a position at Man's Life when he could have gone pretty much anywhere he wanted. Certainly his salary was competitive with any number of similar publications. But Lucas was a writer who should be covering human rights violations and sneaky, underhanded governments. Not which Cuban cigars best complemented
California
cognacs.
    "Why would you want to expose Lauren Grable-Monroe?"
    The question came not from Adam but from Mack, who seemed to be genuinely curious about the answer.
    Lucas sipped his drink and sighed with much contentment, then turned his attention to Mack. "Because she's fast becoming the latest icon of popular American culture," he pointed out. "She's a good sound bite. Like I said, she's topical. She's controversial." He hesitated for only a moment before adding. "And something tells me she is really hot , too. Have you read the book?"
    Mack nodded, but once again her cheeks were stained faintly with pink. Adam thought it made her look rather adorable. Then he immediately berated himself for allowing the word "adorable" into his masculine verbal repertoire. What Mack looked, he corrected himself, was rather… Oh, dammit. Adorable. That was what she looked.
    "So that means you read chapter seven, right?" Lucas asked. "The one called Keeping the Tycoon in the Bedroom. Man, that chapter alone's worth the price of the book." He turned to Adam. "You would not believe some of the stuff she writes in that chapter. And so matter-of-fact she is about it, too. There's this thing with crème de menthe…" He threw another look toward Mack, then halted himself. "Well, let's just say that that Lauren has got some mouth on her. And I'd like to have it on me, too. Very arousing reading material." He smiled wickedly.
    "Arousing," Adam echoed blandly. He decided not to look and see how Mack had taken Lucas's mouth references. He was afraid she might have gone way beyond adorable by now. And that way lay madness. "I think 'annoying' would probably be a better word for Ms. Grable-Monroe," he concluded.
    "Yeah, well, I guess I can't expect a man your age to respond to a sexy woman the way a man my age does. But, hey, you'll always have Viagra."
    The last thing Adam wanted was to be part of a discussion about Viagra in front of Mack. "Please spare me. It probably hasn't been that long since you took your Pamela Anderson Lee poster down off your bedroom wall."
    Lucas's smile grew broader. "Who says I took it down?"
    "I think Mr. Darien is right," Mack piped up. "You owe it to your readership