High-Stakes Bachelor

Something akin to a magnetic field emanated from him.

It enshrouded her, energizing her from head to toe. What was it? Charisma? Raw, animal sex appeal? Whatever it was, she could see why he’d become a movie star.

He stared at her, his eyes black pools in the shadows of his face. Even wreathed in darkness like this, he was beautiful.

The zinging between them built until she thought she would explode.

“Say something,” she whispered. “You’re making me nervous.” Not nervous in the way he was going to think, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.

“My grandmother likes you.”

“I like her, too. I bet you I could convince her we’re dating.”

He exhaled a gust of laughter. “You could convince me without too much trouble.”

Ana blinked up at him in shock. Her and a movie star? The notion of the two of them as a couple knocked words completely out of her brain.

She blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Kiss me.”

High-Stakes Bachelor

Cindy Dees

CINDY DEES started flying airplanes while sitting in her dad’s lap at the age of three and got a pilot’s license before she got a driver’s license. At age fifteen, she dropped out of high school and left the horse farm in Michigan, where she grew up, to attend the University of Michigan. After earning a degree in Russian and East European studies, she joined the US Air Force and became the youngest female pilot in its history. She flew supersonic jets, VIP airlift and the C-5 Galaxy, the world’s largest airplane. During her military career, she traveled to forty countries on five continents, was detained by the KGB and East German secret police, got shot at, flew in the first Gulf War and amassed a lifetime’s worth of war stories.

Her hobbies include medieval re-enacting, professional Middle Eastern dancing and Japanese gardening.

This RITA^>® Award-winning author’s first book was published in 2002 and since then she has published more than twenty-five bestselling and award-winning novels. She loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at www.cindydees.com.

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Title Page

About the Author

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

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

Anabelle Izzolo looked around at the gorgeous young women waiting their turn to go out on the mat and wrestle with a stuntman. At barely five foot two, she noticed how her eyes were at chest height to the mob of leggy, boobtacular, Hollywood-starlet-wannabes who’d shown up for this audition. Crud. She had no business being there. It had seemed like a good idea when she’d signed up for it. But now that the moment was upon her, she felt a giant humiliation coming on.

Thing was, the write-up on the open casting call had been specific in saying that a fight sequence would be auditioned. She was trying to break into the business as a stuntwoman, so a fight was right up her alley. Of course, she wasn’t going to get the acting part, but she was hoping to catch the casting director’s eye and nab a bit part for some stunt work.

Yet another blonde bombshell went out onto the green gym mats and prissied her way through the fight sequence. God, none of the girls could even make a proper fist, let alone throw a decent punch. You had to drive through the elbow and down the arm into the knuckles. Put your weight behind it. Of course, this fight sequence was more about grappling and falling than throwing punches. Still, Ana was embarrassed on behalf of all women to watch the other girls muff their way through fake fighting.

The stuntman and casting director looked bored out of their minds. Whenever a superhot blonde with impressive cleavage came along, they perked up a little. But that was the extent of it.

“Next!” an assistant with a clipboard called.

“Hold up,” the stuntman complained. “I need to piss.”

The casting director huffed. “Make it fast.”

A male voice, familiar to her from movie theaters, piped up. “I’ll take over fighting until he gets back.”

Ana turned, gaping. OMG. Jackson Prescott in the flesh. The star of the movie being cast stepped out of the shadows beyond the stage lights. He was a muscular, bronzed god of a man with sun-bleached hair and golden-hazel eyes that leaped off a movie screen and melted hearts all over the movie-going world. And in person...well, he was even hotter. Squeals, followed by an audible series of sighs, went up from the crowd of starlets. Ana was a little ashamed to realize she’d contributed to the collective swoon.

“Who’s next?” Jackson asked the clipboard girl.

“That would be Number 127.”

Oh. Crap. That was her. Ana lurched forward. She caught her foot on the edge of the raised stage and narrowly avoided face-planting as she stumbled into the wash of down lighting.

“You sure you want to try fighting?” Jackson joked. “Maybe you should master walking first?”