The Man Every Woman Wants by Miranda Lee

best.’
    â€˜Good.’
    Good!
    Laura felt anything but good every time she looked at the man. She wanted to hit him for making her find him so darned attractive all of a sudden.
    It wasn’t pride that was possessing her at this moment. It was another of the seven deadly sins, one that terrified the life out of her.
    Laura was not intimately acquainted with lust, had never been held in its thrall before. Both Brad and Mario had seduced her into their beds, and she’d gone out of the need to be loved, not the need to have sex with them.
    But she wanted to have sex with Ryan. It was a most disturbing thought. Her sigh carried regret that she’d ever thought of this charade in the first place. Regret too that she’d given in to Ryan’s suggestion and bought that sexy red dress.
    Alison had spelled it out for her. That dress was the sort which would get an octogenarian’s hormones up and going. And Ryan was a lot younger and hornier than that. It worried her, what might happen if he did make a pass at her tonight?
    â€˜Come now, Laura,’ Ryan said with a touch of exasperation in his voice. ‘Anyone would think you were going to your execution.’
    An execution would be preferable to ending up in bed with you , Laura thought, keeping her eyes firmly off his corrupting body and on the road ahead. She tried thinking of what he’d just said, about this all being in a good cause, but nothingcould unwind the knots of tension in her stomach. The niggling fear she’d had that this weekend would end in disaster became steadily magnified as they drew closer to the house. The sight of her Aunt Cynthia standing on the verandah waiting for them reminded her of that other fear she’d had earlier today—the fear that they’d be put in the same bedroom for the night!

CHAPTER TWELVE
    O NE look at Aunt Cynthia gave Ryan a clue as to why Laura was so tense.
    The woman was formidable looking to say the least, tall and solidly built, with a manner of the sergeant major about her as she stood there at the top of the front steps with her arms folded over her battleship bosom and her thick-ankled legs slightly apart. The skirt and top she was wearing was battleship grey as well. Possibly in her late fifties, she had very short, tightly curled blonde hair—probably permed and dyed—large facial features and the hint of a moustache above her thinly pressed lips. Her eyes were small and closely set, widening slightly as Ryan braked the convertible to a halt at the bottom on the front steps.
    â€˜Don’t you dare get out of this car,’ Ryan muttered under his breath as Laura automatically reached for the door handle.
    When her eyes jerked round to his he bestowed a one-thousand-kilowatt smile upon her, then bent over to graze her right cheek with his lips.
    â€˜Just do as I say,’ he whispered at the same time. ‘And smile, for pity’s sake.’
    She didn’t smile, he noted. But she did as he said, staying put while he exited the car and strode round to open the door for her like a gentleman of the old school. Ryan deliberately didn’t look up at Aunt Cynthia until Laura was standing up, her hand safely enclosed in his.
    By then he was gratified to see true surprise on the woman’s face, along with an almost welcoming smile. She’d even unfolded her arms by the time he dragged Laura up onto the verandah with him. Thankfully, the woman was staring at him and not at her rather robotic niece.
    â€˜You must be Aunt Cynthia,’ he said, beaming broadly. ‘What a lovely place you have here!’
    When she stepped forward to extend her hand, her beady eyes, which turned out to be a faded blue, actually sparkled at him.
    â€˜We think so. It’s so nice to meet you at last, Mr Armstrong.’
    Ryan shook her hand with his right hand, at the same time keeping his left tightly clasped around Laura’s lest she bolt for it. Which she just