Hypnotic Seduction (The Seduction Series) Read online

  Hypnotic Seduction

  Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® Finalist

  by

  L. L. Kellogg

  “Hypnotic Seduction is a fun, sexy romantic comedy. Enjoy LL Kellogg's engaging and steamy contemporary romance!"

  Bella Andre, international bestselling author of I Only Have Eyes for You

  “Five thumbs up! Hypnotic Seduction is a funny, ugly-duckling love story for readers who enjoy red-hot romantic comedy with lots of sizzle.”

  M.J. Fredrick, award-winning author of Midnight Sun

  Hypnotic Seduction

  By L.L. Kellogg

  Digital Edition

  ISBN-13: 978-1-938618-04-8

  Copyright 2012 Laurie Kellogg

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations. Thank you for respecting this author’s hard work.

  http://www.LaurieKellogg.com

  Disclaimer

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any references to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are used only to provide authenticity and are used factiously. All other characters, places, incidents, and dialogue are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance between the novel’s characters and setting and actual individuals or places is completely coincidental. All inaccuracies or mistakes are the author’s fault and accidental. The author apologizes for any factual discrepancies or typographical errors. If you find any, please contact the author so she can correct them for future copies.

  Hypnotic Seduction

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Read an Excerpt of A Little Bit of Déjà Vu

  Acknowledgements

  Dedicated to my two wonderful children

  Thank you for your encouragement, even though my racy stories embarrass you a little. May this book boost your inheritance beyond your dreams. I love you both more than I can ever show you.

  So many people have contributed to my writing career. In addition to Romance Writers of America® and its generous members who helped me learn to use the talent I was blessed with, I’d also like to thank my:

  Husband, children, and extended family who’ve given me more support than any writer could hope for

  Critique partner who never lets me get away with anything and is honest enough to tell me when my work is pure dreck

  Beta-readers and good friends

  Fellow members of my local RWA chapters

  And last but not least, all of my Golden Heart® sisters—especially the Rubies!

  Hypnotic Seduction

  Chapter 1

  ex-fi•an•cé n. 1. A man no longer engaged. 2. Lying, cheating scum. 3. Rat-bastard philanderer.

  Note: Also see worm, maggot, or ex-boss.

  Hannah Oliver’s gut instincts had saved her well-padded tush more times than she could count. So when an ominous little voice whispered it was a bad idea to stop for Chinese takeout, she listened. She ignored her craving for a hot, crispy egg roll and drove straight home from the office.

  “Yes, yes, YESSS!”

  Hannah stalled inside the threshold to her one-bedroom garden apartment on the outskirts of Princeton, New Jersey. On the opposite side of her living room’s thin wall, the headboard pounded in a frenzied, staccato beat.

  “Faster, please!”

  She rolled her eyes, releasing a weary sigh. It was only six o’clock, for crying out loud.

  When she’d taken a roommate so she could save for her upcoming wedding, Gina and she had made a firm pact to keep their sexual encounters at their respective partners’ homes. Evidently, after Hannah left the message to say her boss/fiancé had asked her to work late again, her hot-to-trot roommate decided to ignore their agreement and make the most of Happy Hour.

  Hannah tossed her tote on the chair and hung her coat in the closet. Not only was she exhausted and starving, she still had to finish addressing the invitations. No way was she waiting someplace else while her nympho roommate finished getting her jollies. After all, Gina had relinquished her right to privacy when she violated the no-sex-in-the-apartment rule. She and her flavor of the week could go at it the entire night for all Hannah cared.

  The next time her sixth sense started yapping, not only would she tell the little voice to zip it, she’d also add dumplings and spareribs to her takeout order.

  “Oh, yes!”

  If only she could shed her inhibitions and be that wanton. With only seven weeks until the wedding, she was tempted to forget about offending her grandma’s traditional sensibilities and move in with Kevin now. At least then she wouldn’t have to put up with her roommate’s X-rated theatrics reminding her how self-conscious she was in the boudoir.

  “You have the most luscious little titties,” a deep, familiar voice murmured.

  “You don’t think they’re too small after squeezing my roomie’s over-inflated boobs?”

  “No, way. If I want more than a mouthful, I’d rather grab your incredible ass.”

  Hannah gasped. Kevin?

  ~*~

  The only position this lecher wants to place a woman in requires years of stretching. Hannah silently fumed to herself a week later.

  “I’m sorry, Miss uhh....”

  “Oliver.” She pointed to her name on the résumé the director of Human Resources held. Without giving her qualifications more than a cursory glance, Stanley Pulaski continued dragging his beady gaze from the calf-length hem of her skirt, up to her French braid. The contemptuous curl in the creep’s lip said he hoped to find evidence of a sexier body than Hannah’s dumpy figure. His immediate dismissal said he’d ranked her about a three on a scale of one to ten.

  Jeez. Who the heck was he to judge her? She wasn’t the one wearing a dead muskrat posing as a toupee.

  “You see, Miss Oliver—” Pulaski handed her résumé back to her. “—it’s Calder Pharmaceutical’s policy to promote from within, and you’re much too qualified for an entry level post.”

  “If that’s the case, why was I given an appointment for an interview?”

  “That was apparently my assistant’s lack of judgment.”

  The playmate of the month at the reception desk glared at his back, belying his pathetic attempt at passing the buck.

  “I apologize for any inconvenience. Thank you for your interest in Calder,” he continued. “I won’t waste any more of your time.”

  That was for damn sure. Hannah spun on her designer sandals’ four-inch heels and stormed out of the personnel office.

  This would teach her to get involved with a guy who signed her paycheck. Not only was she not getting married or having the children she wanted anytime soon, she’d be spending the rest of the week contacting employment recruiters. Considering the sky-high unemployment rate, she probably should’ve waited to quit her job, but she’d been unable to bear working for that cheating rat-bastard another second.

  On her way t
hrough the lobby, she slapped the visitor’s badge on the guard’s desk and stormed through the electric doors into the late April sunshine. A kaleidoscope of color and fragrances from the spring garden bombarded her senses.

  “That sleaze Pulaski deserves an incurable case of jock itch,” she muttered, kicking the bloom off a flower edging the walkway.

  “There are a few thousand more of those beauties if decapitating that one didn’t help,” a white-haired man joked from a bench in the inviting shade of a blossoming tree.

  Smiling, she shrugged one shoulder. “Thanks, but one’s my limit. I would’ve introduced my foot to that jerk’s head, but I didn’t want to stub my toes.” She wandered across the manicured lawn. “Do you mind if I join you?” She needed to cool down before her dentist appointment that afternoon.

  “I’d love some company.” The man puffed on his pipe the way her late grandpa had. “I’m Edward.”

  “Hannah Oliver.” She shook his hand, sinking onto the bench next to him.

  “So whose head were you mentally kicking?”

  She told him about her ordeal with the sexist bastard in the HR department, and when she finished, Edward frowned. “He didn’t even interview you?”

  “Not really. Apparently a woman needs talents besides stellar administrative skills to land a job at Calder.” Like perhaps certification in Kama sutra yoga and a fondness for the downward-facing dog position. “I guarantee—if I looked like some bulimic lingerie model, Mr. Pulaski would’ve hired me on the spot.”

  Edward patted her arm. “You have every right to be upset. And, for what it’s worth, I think you’re much more attractive than those skinny giraffes in the underwear catalogs.”

  “Thanks.” She smiled. The old guy obviously needed a pair of glasses. “Now that you’ve validated me, I won’t feel so guilty if I console myself.” She dug a bag of her homemade cinnamon-almond squares from her handbag and offered him one.

  The sweet old man smiled his thanks and fished out a cookie. “Did you make these?”

  She nodded, praying her cheeks hadn’t turned as pink as they felt. Her friends considered her hobby old-fashioned, but baking was a way to spend time with her grandma. “Enjoy. If I eat them all, my butt will spread like the Delaware River in a flash flood.”

  “You young girls worry far too much about your figures.”

  “Young? I’m almost thirty. And with men like Pervert Pulaski around, do you blame me? I mean, seriously—I have ten years of experience, and I’m only twelve credits shy of getting my business degree.” She handed Edward a copy of her résumé to emphasize her point. “Would you reject an applicant with my qualifications just because she doesn’t look like a model?”

  “Not if she brought cookies like these with her.” He chuckled, scanning the page listing her credentials. “If you type half as well as you bake, I’m sure you’ll have a job in no time.”

  Assuming she interviewed with someone who didn’t care if she could do splits.

  She inhaled the sweet perfume of flowers mingling with the smell of his tobacco smoke. “I’m sorry for venting. I can’t believe I’m jabbering on like this. I usually break out in a cold sweat around men.”

  His gaze shot up from her résumé. “You’re afraid of men?”

  “Not afraid. I’m just a little self-conscious with them.”

  “It didn’t sound like you had a problem talking to Don Juan Pulaski.”

  “I only get tongue-tied with good-looking guys.”

  “Ohhh.” Edward laughed. “You don’t find me attractive?”

  In truth, she found his craggy face and neatly trimmed beard extremely appealing in a mature way. Before meeting Edward, she’d considered it unnatural for a woman her age to be romantically interested in a senior citizen. Now, she almost understood the attraction. Edward had no doubt been a real lady-killer in his day.

  “That’s not what I meant,” she explained. You’re very handsome for—”

  “I understand.” He squeezed her arm. “You just don’t see me as a prospective admirer.”

  She envied women who could relax around the opposite sex. After years of living in her centerfold/actress mother’s shadow, Hannah’s matronly figure and short stature made her feel as desirable as a fire hydrant. Not surprising, seeing as Cotton Candy Oliver’s X-rated body and beautiful face could make even a NFL cheerleader feel plain and frumpy.

  “You know—” Edward cocked one bushy white eyebrow. “—my grandson works here and has been looking for a new assistant. I could probably get you an interview this afternoon.”

  “You’re kidding? That’d be great!” Now that she was paying the rent on her own, she needed to find a job fast—as in yesterday. Her dentist would just have to understand if she had to cancel. She pressed the bag with the two remaining cookies into Edward’s hand. “Have these, too. You deserve them.”

  “I’m glad to help. You’re exactly the kind of assistant Jordan needs.” As he folded her résumé and stood, the top of his head brushed the canopy of blossoms. “Let’s go.”

  Even with pink flower petals scattered in his hair, the distinguished old man still looked virile and debonair. Hannah waited while he tapped the ashes out of his pipe and stowed it in the pocket of his pale blue sport shirt with the cookies.

  She followed the aromatic scent of tobacco clinging to him into the lobby where the uniformed guard at the reception desk snapped to attention. “How are you today, Sir?”

  “You signed Miss Oliver in earlier. I’m taking her up to meet my grandson.”

  “Sure thing.” The redheaded man handed her another visitor’s pass. “Good luck.” His conspiratorial wink seemed to include more than his best wishes.

  “Thanks,” Hannah responded. While crossing the lobby, their clicking footsteps echoed off the glass atrium’s marble floor. Glancing sideways at Edward, she whispered, “You must visit pretty often.”

  “Actually, I worked here until I retired ten months ago.”

  “Oh.” She tipped her head and studied him while they waited for the elevator. “Has anyone ever mentioned you look a lot like Sean Connery when he made Hunt for Red October?”

  “Dozens of people. And I’m insulted every time.”

  “Why? I’d think you’d be flattered. People magazine once named him the Sexiest Man Alive.”

  “For one, I don’t lisp. And I’m much better looking than Mr. Connery.” Edward smiled, patting his head. “I still have most of my hair.” He guided her into the elevator and punched the button marked twelve.

  “Your grandson must be pretty high in the pecking order to have an office on the top floor.”

  “He is.” Edward opened his mouth as if he were about to say more and then clamped it shut a moment. “Uhh—don’t let Jordan intimidate you. He’s a bit overbearing at times, but deep down he’s a softie.”

  “Does he look like James Bond, too?”

  “Only if you have a younger Pierce Brosnan in mind.”

  Even better. As a teenager, she’d developed a crush on the gorgeous actor on the only occasion her mother took her to see a movie, which had been Tomorrow Never Dies. Of course, considering Hannah’s last reckless relationship, if she ever agreed to work for a movie star, she’d be smart to stick with someone like Woody Allen.

  “Unfortunately, Jordan makes 007 seem like an amateur with the ladies.”

  Great. Just what she needed—working for another skirt-chaser. “Did I happen to mention my worm of an ex-fiancé was also my last boss?”

  “Don’t worry. My grandson may be a womanizer, but I promise he never mixes his love life with business. Anything you hear to the contrary is pure rumor.” Edward heaved a sigh. “Still, at the rate he’s going, I may never get any great-grandchildren.”

  She understood how Edward felt. Since a woman’s fertility dropped drastically after thirty-five, time was running out on her white-picket-fence fantasy. If Mr. Right didn’t show up in the next year or so, she’d have to seriously consider ar
tificial insemination. Ick.

  She had no desire to engage in a ménage à trois with a doctor and a sterile turkey baster. Not to mention, being illegitimate, she wanted her child to know his father and be part of the traditional family she’d always missed.

  When the elevator slid open, a shapely brunette ran into Edward in her haste to board. Sobbing, she pointed a trembling finger at the double carved doors across the hall. “Don’t go in there unless you want to get your head bitten off.”

  A deep voice bellowed inside, “Damn it! What the hell could she have done to it?”

  All at once, Hannah’s postponed date with the dentist’s drill seemed almost appealing.

  Edward opened one of the cherry doors. She swallowed hard, accompanying him into a posh office where two tall, raven-haired men leaned over a large reception workstation.

  One had rolled up the sleeves on his pale blue dress shirt. The muscles in his sinewy forearms flexed from bracing himself against the polished mahogany desk.

  “What’s the problem, fellas?” Edward asked.

  The jacketless man scowled over his shoulder, his bright blue gaze blazing like the center of a flame. She gulped and stepped behind Edward, praying the man in the charcoal suit was his grandson.

  “Hi, Gramps,” Mr. Sunshine muttered.

  No such luck.

  His companion smiled at Edward. “How’re you, Mr. Calder?”

  “Calder?” she whispered, her throat rebelling as if she’d swallowed a cockroach. “As in Calder Pharmaceutical?”

  ~*~

  Jordan Calder raked his fingers through his hair and gave thanks he had plenty to spare, seeing as he was about to yank out a handful. “I can’t figure out how the temp fouled this up.”

  The ditzy woman had saved whatever she’d done to the document onto the network drive. Every time he opened the file, a bunch of hieroglyphics popped up.