Полная версия
Six Hot Summer Nights
Six Hot Summer Nights
Caught in the Spotlight
Jules Bennett
Night After Night…
Kathy Lyons
Unfinished Business
Cat Schield
Coming up for Air
Karen Foley
A Breathless Bride
Fiona Brand
Underneath It All
Leslie Kelly
MILLS & BOON
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Contents
Cover
Title Page
Caught in the Spotlight
About the Author
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Epilogue
Caught in the Spotlight
Extract
About the Author
Dear Reader
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
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Unfinished Business
Extract
Dear Reader
About the Author
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Coming up for Air
Dear Reader
About the Author
Dedication
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
A Breathless Bride
Extract
Dear Reader
About the Author
Dedication
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Underneath It All
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Copyright
About the Author
JULES BENNETT’s love of storytelling started when she would get in trouble as a child and would tell her parents her imaginary friend Mimi did it. Since then, her vivid imagination has taken her down a path she’d only dreamed of.
When Jules isn’t spending time with her wonderful supportive husband and two daughters, you will find her reading her favorite authors. Though she calls that time “research.” She loves to hear from readers! Contact her at authorjules@gmail.com, visit her website at www.julesbennett.com or send her a letter at PO Box 396, Minford, OH 45653, USA. You can also visit her fan page on Facebook or follow her on Twitter (@Jules-Bennett).
One
When a dripping-wet female yelled his name, Bronson Dane didn’t even try to stop his eyes from roaming over all of her.
With only a short white towel covering her glistening dark, Italian skin, his mother’s personal assistant of only six months certainly knew how to catch a man’s attention.
“Mr. Dane,” she repeated, clutching the towel to her chest with both hands. She’d stopped short as she’d stepped from the bath when she saw him standing at the desk in his mother’s adjoining office.
“Formalities are unnecessary when you’re only wearing water droplets and a towel. Call me Bronson.” He shoved his hands in his pants pockets, thankful he’d shed his jacket because, damn, the temperature just rose at least ten degrees. “Where is my mother and why are you showering in her private bath?”
Wide eyes, nearly as dark as her ebony hair, blinked in rapid succession. “Olivia is gone for the day. I often use the gym, and since I’m working this afternoon, she told me just to freshen up here instead of running back to my guest cottage.”
Bronson muttered a curse at his naive mother. It was bad enough Mia Spinelli lived on the Dane estate, but now she was given free rein of the house? Hadn’t his mother learned her lesson from the last “loyal” assistant? When would the woman realize she couldn’t trust everyone who looked innocent?
This was Hollywood, for pity’s sake. Lies and manipulation were as common as breast implants and collagen injections.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Dane. I had no idea anyone would be coming by,” Mia continued, squaring her shoulders as if having a conversation wearing only a scrap of terry cloth was normal. “Weren’t you supposed to be shooting in Australia until next week?”
“Call me Bronson,” he reminded her, gritting his teeth at the floral aroma wafting from the bathroom. “The movie wrapped a week early. I stopped by to talk to my mother about the film festival next week. Did she say when she’d be back?”
“She’ll be back later in the afternoon. She’s having lunch with her attorney to go over the final contract for her next book.” The knuckles on the hand fisting her towel between her breasts turned white as she crossed the room. “If you’ll excuse me, I dropped my toiletry bag on the desk chair when I came in because the phone was ringing.”
Before she could pass by him, he blocked her and reached for the simple black bag from the leather desk chair. She grabbed for it, but he held the small bag out to the side, away from her grasp.
He didn’t trust her, especially since she’d just come off the heels of working for the one man he despised in the industry, Anthony Price. He loathed the man with every fiber of his being. But he certainly didn’t want to think about all those reasons now.
His mother had assured him that Mia was “a doll” and completely trustworthy and dependable. His sister, Victoria, had jumped on the Mia bandwagon as well, stating that Mia was such a joy and pleasure to be around. When they’d chatted on the phone last, Victoria had gone so far as to say that she’d instantly clicked with their mother’s new assistant.
Granted, Mia had been around for six months, but was that enough time for his mother and sister to be such diehard Mia Spinelli fans?
Bronson wasn’t blind, though. Anthony sending his assistant here to snoop was really sinking to a low he never expected.
The rumors of Mia and Anthony’s relationship were anything but businesslike. And that irked him even more. The fact his mother had hired Mia while he’d been on location in Australia still grated on him. True, his mother could have any assistant she chose, but why bring in one fresh from his nemesis?
The Hollywood rumor mill had pegged the mesmerizing Mia as the main problem in Anthony’s rocky marriage. Whom Mia slept with was none of his concern, but it was his business if she was taking Dane family secrets back to her lover.
Bronson and his mother were secretly working on a huge film that he knew the media would die to get their hands on. He and his mother had worked for years honing this project, and he had no doubt Anthony Price, Hollywood’s top director, wanted to know just what the big secret was.
Just because his mother wasn’t suspicious didn’t mean he’d be letting his guard down any time soon.
Bronson intended to find out just what this conveniently placed assistant’s intentions were before she uncovered the script and slid back in between Anthony’s sheets with it in hand. The thought of this sexy siren in bed with the devil made his stomach knot up.
He thrust the bag her way because he needed her to get dressed. Whether he trusted her or not had no bearing on matters; she was fresh from the shower smelling of something sexy and floral—her own because that certainly wasn’t his mother’s scent—and he was having a hard time focusing on the task at hand.
Not to mention that he was not one bit happy with the immediate physical attraction he felt to his enemy’s lover.
“Get dressed. We’ll talk.”
With a slight nod, she turned, crossed the room and entered the still-steamy bath, shutting the door at her back. He had no room on his plate for lustful feelings, and he was a damn fool for even letting them creep into his thoughts. His main concern right now was to keep his mother and his fashion designer sister out of any more scandal.
His mother’s last assistant had stolen nearly half a million dollars from Olivia’s personal account over the span of several months. The media loved feeding off the Dane name right now, which is why they needed to be a bit more cautious about whom they let into their lives—especially if he had any hopes of keeping this script under wraps.
Was it any wonder his blood pressure had soared since he stepped into his mother’s office? Olivia Dane was an icon, and the media would love to get some dirt on her—though he doubted there was any. They had a way of twisting even the innocent to make them look sordid.
Olivia Dane had been Hollywood’s sweetheart, had starred in more films than any other female in the industry and had been dubbed the “Grand Dane” years ago. The media loved her. Which is precisely why he needed to keep a close watch on her new assistant.
The bathroom door opened once again and Mia emerged wearing crisp white capris and a black, sleeveless button-down shirt. She had twisted her long dark hair into some sort of knot at the nape of her neck. Her feet were still bare, except for the subtle pink polish on her toes. A simple gold locket lay in the open V of her shirt.
Everything about this woman screamed innocence and simplicity, so how the hell did she end up working for the most glamorous woman in Hollywood?
Olivia had told him how impeccable Mia’s credentials were and Mia’s reasons for leaving her job with Anthony. Supposedly she didn’t want to be the cause of any more rumors and aid in destroying Anthony’s marriage.
His mother had said she admired a woman who put others’ needs ahead of her own. She assured him the background check also confirmed her initial thoughts—Mia was flawless and perfect for the job.
A background check could easily make a person look good on paper, and Mia had certainly appeared to be innocent as an angel, but Bronson wanted to get to know more about the quiet, subtle Miss Spinelli. The one who, no matter what line she fed his mother, still may be sleeping with—and possibly spying for—his enemy.
And fate had just handed him the perfect opportunity. What better way to get to know someone than a little one-on-one time? With the exotic, sexy ambiance of the Cannes Film Festival next week, how could she resist succumbing to his charms as his escort? He hadn’t been dubbed People’s Sexiest Man Alive for nothing.
“I have a proposition for you,” he told her. “You’re traveling to Cannes with my mother. Correct?”
Mia nodded.
“There are ceremonies every evening with parties afterward. I want you to escort me to those events.”
“Escort you?” she asked, eyes wide. “But I’m only going to work with Olivia, and I hadn’t planned on attending any of the evenings’ festivities.”
He hadn’t planned on asking her to be his escort, but he also hadn’t planned on his first impression of her covered in iridescent droplets and wearing nothing but a piece of terry cloth. God knows he could invite any woman he knew, but he really didn’t want to have to entertain and make sure some diva was properly pampered. This woman, this virtual stranger, would be the ideal companion. He’d been on location nearly the entire time she’d been employed by his mother. He couldn’t think of a better venue to get to know Mia than to have her as his “date” for five nights in a row.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Mia said, taking a seat behind his mother’s desk and booting up the computer. “I’m pretty busy with Olivia, and I know we’ll be working just as hard in Cannes because she’s trying to finish this book by midsummer.”
Bronson stood on the other side of the desk, watching Mia’s delicate, ringless fingers fly over the keyboard. “I assure you, my mother will have no problem with your being my escort. You just worry about getting to the plane on time and packing light. I’ll have Victoria ship all the dresses you’ll need. She’s a whiz in a pinch.”
She looked up from the screen, licking her naked lips. “But why me?”
“Why not you?” he countered, liking this idea more and more.
“I’m just an assistant.”
Bronson shrugged. “All the more reason. Unless you don’t want to be seen with me because of your recent scandal with your previous employer.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Or you have a jealous lover.”
Mia’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe that out of all the women you know, you’d want to take me.”
Her swift dodge of his question wasn’t very subtle, but he’d let it pass. For now.
“I won’t lie.” Leaning on his palms on the edge of the mahogany desk, Bronson offered a crooked grin and eased back just a bit so he didn’t seem too overbearing. “I’m protective of my mother. I’m using this as a prime opportunity to get to know you better.”
A sinful, beautiful smile spread across her face. “I understand being protective about family. In that case, I’d love to attend with you, as long as Olivia doesn’t mind.”
Bronson stood straight up and returned her smile. “She won’t. Trust me.”
Trust me.
It had been four days since Bronson had flashed his sexy smile and charmed her into turning her working trip into something more social.
And she should’ve flat-out told him no. He wouldn’t have asked her to attend parties and ceremonies with him, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have asked her to trust him, if he knew the secret she held. A secret that would ruin his family’s tight bond.
Mia shook the guilt off and concentrated on her immediate mission: she was in Cannes and she was going to be waltzing into glamorous events on the arm of Hollywood’s sexiest bachelor. She had to look better than her best.
Which shouldn’t be a problem. Looking back at her were five—yes, five—glamorous Victoria Dane original designs. Mia took a step back in her luxurious suite, unable to catch her breath. Olivia had told her that Victoria always kept multiple designs on hand for any star who needed a dress last minute.
Cinderella and her fairy godmother had nothing on Mia and this amazing array of glitzy dresses.
She had to keep reminding herself that she was just an assistant, but Mia certainly felt like a star as she spun in a little-girl-like circle, giddiness overwhelming her.
Was this really happening? Was she really in Cannes working for Olivia Dane by day, dressing up in a Victoria Dane gown at night and mingling with celebrities on the arm of hotshot producer Bronson Dane? Did she hit the job jackpot or what?
She and Olivia had worked a couple hours on the long flight over and Olivia had given Mia the rest of the day off. Of course, Mia figured Olivia was shopping at all the specialty shops.
Mia smiled as she recalled how surprised, yet excited Olivia was when she’d learned Mia was escorting Bronson to the parties and awards ceremonies. The Grand Dane had smiled, clasped her jeweled fingers together and said, “Wonderful.”
Everything about working for the Grand Dane was incredible. Mia had been scared to leave Anthony at first, but now she knew this was the best decision for everyone. She’d come to love him like family—though not in the way the family-wrecking tabloids had portrayed their relationship. She hoped he could put his marriage back together.
Mia’s heart ached for Anthony. Never once had their relationship turned intimate, but the tabloids assumed and printed the worst, in turn hurting his wife. Yes, they’d spent a lot of time together, but they were always working.
Mia knew Olivia believed her, but what about Bronson? Did he also assume the worst about her? More than likely. There was no love lost between the two Hollywood big shots, which meant he probably believed the rumors. He’d already implied as much.
Hopefully, her actions would win his trust in time. He’d had his fair share of scandal in the media. Surely he didn’t believe everything he heard or read. Hollywood certainly wasn’t known for honesty.
And she’d never expected anything like this when she’d come to work for Olivia. When she’d been employed by Anthony, she’d traveled with him to film sites, but never, ever to a glamorous film festival. And here she was in Cannes. Just the trip itself was thrilling, but adding all the extras on top of that was fabulous.
First, she’d expected a simple room, not a suite, and she never, in her wildest dreams, thought she’d be treated like a princess when she was just … an assistant. But she’d take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and not question the whys.
With a delicate touch, because God knew she’d never be able to cover the expense of just one of these dresses, even though her pay was very generous, she looked over the gowns as she envisioned dancing the night away in each one.
Spending money on clothes was not a priority in Mia’s life, unlike many women who lived in Hollywood. But she certainly wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to wear these classy, elegant designs.
Would she be dancing with Bronson all night? Would her body press against his as they swayed? She’d be lying to herself if she pretended she hadn’t thought of being close to him, feeling his arms around her.
More than likely he had a whole slew of women who danced with him at such events, but he’d chosen her to escort him. What did that mean? And he’d gone to the trouble of getting his sister involved. Did he just want to get to know her better, as he’d said? She could understand that, but somewhere deep inside she thought he must find her attractive or he wouldn’t have asked her to accompany him every single night.
The memory of his eyes taking in her bare skin when he’d caught her coming out of the shower had her body humming. She wasn’t vain, but she also wasn’t stupid. Bronson hadn’t been immune to the fact she’d been pretty much naked.
Reality check.
To think that Bronson Dane found her attractive sounded absurd, even in her own head. He worked with movie starlets, dated models and had literally seen women who exemplified perfection in the flesh. He’d even been engaged to a stunning makeup artist. But still, his eyes had widened on seeing her, and the muscle had ticked in his jaw. Her body heated again when she recalled how close they’d been as he’d held her bag away from her. He’d smelled so … masculine, powerful. Sexy.
Mia pulled the short, black, chiffon dress from the closet and held it in front of her as she turned to the full-length mirror. This would be for the first party. All the dresses were gorgeous, but this one—this would make the biggest impact. She wanted Bronson’s first impression of her in Cannes to be memorable.
The simplicity of the black gown and her black hair would complement each other and hopefully help her blend in with the rich and famous. She certainly didn’t want to be an embarrassment on Bronson’s arm. She may have immature thoughts, but she wanted him to notice her as more than his mother’s assistant.
Nerves danced around in her belly. How could she even compare to the arm candy Bronson normally had draped over him?
A laugh escaped her as she hung the dress back up. Had she just compared herself to arm candy? She wasn’t here to try to win Bronson over as her boyfriend or even her lover … but that didn’t stop her from wishing to be noticed by Hollywood’s sexiest bachelor. What woman wouldn’t want to be desired by such a strong, powerful man who ranked his loving family at the top of his priority list? There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t want to be part of his inner circle.
But amid the excitement and arousal, guilt gnawed away at Mia as she pulled another dress from the closet. How could she take so much from this family when she knew a secret that could very well destroy their perfect happiness?
Unfortunately, the secret wasn’t hers to reveal. And since she had come to care about all the key players, she felt torn between her loyalty to her former employer and her loyalty to her current employer.
Right now all she could do was keep her own counsel and enjoy herself in one of the most exotic, memorable places on earth. Borrowing trouble that was utterly out of her hands wouldn’t help ease the guilt or make the nearly forty-year-old secret disappear.
Mia’s cell rang, breaking into her thoughts. She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit the Talk button.
“Hello?”
“I trust you found the dresses to your satisfaction.”
Mia’s gaze traveled back to the open closet. “Yes, Bronson, they’re gorgeous. I could never thank you or Victoria enough.”
“And the jewelry is all to your liking?” he asked. “If not, I can call the jeweler and have some pieces traded out.”
Mia’s eyes went to the dresser where velvet boxes were stacked. She hadn’t even opened them, but she knew the contents were surely more glamorous than anything she’d ever seen.
She fingered the simple locket around her neck. “Everything is more than I’d hoped for. Thank you.”
“Tonight’s viewing begins at seven-thirty,” he went on. “We have to be on the red carpet by quarter to seven, so I’ll meet you down in the lobby by the elevator at six-thirty.”
Without another word, he hung up. Mia didn’t quite know what to make of his abruptness. On the jet en route to Cannes he’d made idle chitchat—nothing personal. At times she’d feel someone staring at her and turn to see those crystal-blue eyes on her as if he were just as intrigued with her as she was with him—at least, she liked to think that was the reason. And when she caught him, he didn’t even pretend that he hadn’t been studying her. But why would a strong, powerful playboy be shy or coy? He could have any woman he wanted, and that woman would gladly follow those endless baby blues anywhere. She was no exception.
