âWhat do you want?â
The question hung between them. Nate raised the champagne bottle to his mouth, tipping it back for a long swallow, before turning and pinning her to her spot with the full intensity of his gaze. âYou. I want you, Payton. I need you to pretend weâre involved. That weâve been involved for the last month, actually.â
Nate watched as Payton blanched and then went to beet, sputtering at length before she finally nailed that single word demand for clarification. âWhat?â
Well, he hadnât expected her to simply agree and climb into his lap.
And, man, as much as he liked the hot flush across her skin, he definitely didnât need to think of Paytonâs lush curves and petite frame curling into the seat of his thighs. Not a good idea at all. Never had been.
How was it he managed multi-billion-dollar deals without batting an eye, when he couldnât spit out a simple illicit proposal with any clarity or finesse at all?
He let loose a frustrated growl. âHereâs the deal. The press is on to me. Digging into something I donât want dug up. I need a distraction. Something juicy they can sink their teeth into. And I need a friendâsomeone I can trustâto help me pull it off. Youâre perfect. Youâre well-known, respected, and everyone will believe you wouldnât want a relationship with me publicized.â
Tabloid Affair, Secretly Pregnant!
By
MIRA LYN KELLY grew up in the Chicago area and earned her degree in Fine Arts from Loyola University. She met the love of her life while studying abroad in Rome, Italy, only to discover heâd been living right around the corner from her for the previous two years. Having spent her twenties working and playing in the Windy City, sheâs now settled with her husband in rural Minnesota, where their four beautiful children provide an excess of action, adventure and entertainment.
With writing as her passion, and inspiration striking at the most unpredictable times, Mira can always be found with a notebook at the ready. More than once sheâs been caught by the neighbours, covered in grass clippings, scribbling away atop the compost container!
When she isnât reading, writing, or running to keep up with the kids, she loves watching movies, blabbing with the girls, and cooking with her husband and friends. Check out her website www.miralynkelly.com for the latest dish!
Recent books by the same author:
WILD FLING OR A WEDDING RING?
To Mom and John,
with countless thanks for showing me true love and happily ever after arenât just for stories.
FLASHBULBS exploded. Shutters snapped like automatic fire around him as reporters from rags of all caliber called for attention, each voice clamoring to rise above the rest.
âMr. Evans!â
âOne more over here!â
Beneath the awning of the exclusive Chicago hotel, Nate Evans offered up a stock smile, responded to a few light questions with a handful of ambiguous words and waited for the question he knew would come.
It didnât take long.
âMr. Evans! Care to explain your sudden absence from the social circuit these past months?â
The question shot through the early autumn evening, silencing all others with its gathering strength while narrowing the focus on him like an interrogatorâs spotlight.
They knew when they were onto something.
But he was ready for the assault. Invited it.
Feigning surprise at the inquiry, Nate paused in mock consideration before answering. âGuess Iâve been so caught up in business, I hadnât realized Iâd gone off the map.â
His answer wouldnât satisfy even the most limited curiosity. And more than that, it was a lie. Heâd spent the last six months laying low. Flying under the radar to avoid notice while the nightmare of his life slowly, painfully, worked itself toward an unsatisfactory resolution. Six months out of the limelight, away from the cameras, only to find his absence conspicuous enough in itself to fuel new rumors and speculation as to the cause.
Whoâs the beauty behind this bachelorâs broken heart?
The squelched headline had hit him like a sucker punch to the gut and heâd spent a fortune making it go away. Buying time. But if he didnât get a stranglehold on the situation, the trash hounds would dig and dig until they found the truth. And then theyâd keep digging, making such a muck and mess that the dirt slung in their quest for ratings would reach anyone and everyone even remotely tied to his life.
His dad didnât need that.
Neither did Bella, the tiny baby whoâd dragged a commitment from his jaded heart with a fist too small to wrap around his thumb. She was pure and precious and new. And though she didnât belong to him, heâd sworn to protect her from whatever hardships he could. And preventing a media circus from assailing her home and her motherâwho wasnât in any shape to defend against itâwas top on the list.
Which brought him to tonight. The first whoâs-who gala event available to spin the press off his scent.