Her Dirty Little Secret

by JC Harroway

  “I’m going to sneak into the Carmina Ball. Then I’m going to catch him in the act and make sure my sister doesn’t walk down the aisle with the wrong guy.”

  Lainey squinted at the picture, the intricate design of the gems and beads mesmerising her. It was impossible to see Imogen’s features. Add some dramatic makeup and a wig or change of hair colour, and her identity would truly be concealed.

  “You’re crazy,” Corinna said with a shake of her head. Her phone buzzed and she snatched it off the table. “Sorry, ladies, it’s Joe. I need to take this.”

  “Hi, Joe!” Lainey and Imogen chorused when she answered the phone, dissolving into laughter when Corinna rolled her eyes and headed into the house.

  “Where’s the loyalty?” Imogen said as she reached for her champagne and sloshed a little over the edge. They were definitely getting an Uber home tonight.

  “He does seem like a decent guy,” Lainey said. “She has better luck than me, that’s for damn sure. I haven’t been on a date in months.”

  Imogen laughed. “That means your life hasn’t been unnecessarily complicated for months.”

  “I thought you enjoyed hearing about my dating disasters.” Lainey grinned and scooped some icing off what was left of the cake. Her message was now an incoherent mess. “Solid entertainment value there.”

  Disasters was certainly the right word. While Corinna always attracted cute, decent men, Lainey ended up in every kind of impossible, couldn’t-make-it-up dating scenario there was. She’d dated a guy who turned out to be as old as her father, two ex-cons and a circus performer who liked to watch her walk around wearing only a pair of mismatched socks.

  “In a kind of masochistic way...yeah, I do.” Imogen forked some cake into her mouth.

  “Why is it masochistic?”

  “Because I know I’ll be picking up the pieces when it goes bad.” Imogen’s eyes sparkled as an amused smile formed. “What happened when that guy wanted you to move to the hippie commune in Nimben? I told you not to go with him.”

  “I didn’t go with him...well, not all the way.” Lainey bit down on her lip to stifle a laugh.

  Okay, so Imogen was usually the voice of reason. Which made her plans to sneak into the Carmina Ball all the more interesting. The thing was, if anyone was going to break the rules and do it properly, it would be Imogen. She’d have plans and contingencies and all the necessary details worked out.

  “I drove all the way to the state border to drag your butt home,” Imogen said, crossing her arms. “And what about the time you decided to go camping in the middle of nowhere with that guy who got arrested and left you stranded?”

  “I didn’t know the car was stolen.” Lainey shrugged. “Besides, I’m pretty sure Damian bailed me out that particular occasion.”

  Imogen chuckled. “Speak of the devil.”

  Lainey’s head whipped around. The object of her fantasies was in the doorway. Damian McKnight, in all his panty-singeing glory, wearing a pair of faded blue jeans that hugged his thighs to perfection. His blue checked shirt was open at the collar and rolled back at the sleeves, inviting Lainey’s eyes to linger on smooth olive skin.

  “What were you saying about me?” he asked warily as he walked over.

  As usual, Lainey gave him a saccharine smile, which he didn’t return. He might have been all biceps and close-up-worthy eyes, but Damian McKnight was the sworn enemy of all that was fun. Mr. Stick Up His Butt, she’d called him once.

  It was truly baffling why she found his seriousness so damn appealing.

  He used to be fun before Jenny broke his heart into a million little pieces. Maybe you need to show him how to have fun again...

  Yeah, right. Damian had always acted like she was a little bug that buzzed around him, invading his space. Hanging around where she wasn’t wanted. And the one time she’d gotten drunk and tried to kiss him the year after he got divorced, he’d made it clear he wouldn’t go there with her, despite the fact that he’d been giving her eyes all night. She was twenty-one then, and fully aware of what she wanted with him.

  “We were reminiscing about some of Lainey’s finer dating moments,” Imogen said.

  Damian smirked. “Like that time you had to climb out that lawyer’s window because his other girlfriend came home early?”

  “He told me he was single,” Lainey protested, reaching for her drink. “I would never have dated him if I’d known.”

  He shook his head. He often did that around her...they all did. “Where’s your third musketeer?”

  “Inside, talking to her lover boy,” Lainey replied.

  “And what about you?” His gaze skated over her. “Any recent victims?”

  Lainey drained the rest of her champagne and tried to appear as though she hadn’t noticed the searing look. Damian had the Blue Steel thing down pat, and she knew for a fact that women all over Melbourne would give their right arm to be on the receiving end of it. And since his stint on TV, the guy even had a fan club on Facebook. A freaking fan club!

  “I love being single, you know that. But I might head out later, see if anyone takes my interest.”

  His jaw tensed. Interesting. “If you do, be sure to give him my condolences.”

  There was a strange undercurrent in Damian’s tone, a little hum of tension that sent ripples of curiosity through her. Was it because he didn’t care or because he didn’t like the idea of her chatting someone up?

  She never could tell with him. He said he wasn’t interested, but his body language told a different story.

  “And what are you up to tonight?” she asked.

  “Not much. Mum needed a hand with the pipes in the kitchen, and Dad’s back is still giving him a hard time,” he said with a brisk nod. “I’m exchanging hard labour for lasagne.”

  Well, damn if that didn’t make her insides melt. Despite his sharp rise in business and wealth, Damian never forgot where he came from or who was important in his life. He was dedicated to his family, always making himself available for his parents or his sister.

  It still baffled Lainey why his wife had left. Who in their right mind would walk away from him?

  Damian’s eyes flicked over her once more, and she felt it all the way down to her toes. “Anyway, I’d better get to it. Behave yourselves, okay?”

  “Never.” Lainey had to contain a laugh as he rolled his eyes, walking away without a backward glance.

  The man had an ass so perfect it should be in a gallery.

  “So uptight,” Lainey muttered, her eyes locked onto the way his hips rolled as he disappeared into the house. “But so smoking hot.”

  Imogen snorted. “I think you mean ‘so unattainable.’”

  “Potato, po-tah-to.” Lainey tapped her nails against the table. “So, I want to know more about this whole Carmina Ball plan. I’m intrigued.”

  “I was going to keep it a secret.” Imogen dropped her face into her hands. “But Corinna kept topping up my glass and then with the shock of your news, I...ugh. Please don’t tell anyone.”

  “My lips are sealed.” Lainey mimicked turning a key in a lock. “How are you going to get in without an invitation?”

  “I know the caterer.” Imogen leaned forward. “I’ll arrive with her team and then slip off to change into my costume after the party starts.”

  Lainey sucked on her lower lip. The plan was totally insane. Absolutely and utterly bonkers.

  Speaking of Damian, did you know he scored a ticket to the Carmina Ball?

  Corinna’s words rang in her head like a siren song, along with the teasing thought of being able to do anything she wanted before leaving for London. If Imogen could sneak into the ball in disguise, Lainey could, too.

  What the hell will you do once you get in?

  Anything. A wicked smile curved on her lips. She could do anything at all.

 
“I don’t suppose there’s room for a sidekick on this grand adventure?” Lainey asked.

  “Now why would you want to do that?”

  While Lainey was confident in her seduction abilities with men in general, Damian seemed to be her white whale. He resisted her where other men didn’t, and she had her suspicions it wasn’t due to a lack of physical chemistry. They had it in excess. Her body sparked whenever he came near her. And as for him...well, she’d caught him looking at her before with that heated blue gaze. But for some reason, he never acted on her flirty suggestions, never returned any teasing innuendo.

  But the whole point of a masquerade ball was to have a little fun without revealing your identity, right? She could test her theory that they did have something between them.

  Damian McKnight had a hold over her unlike anyone else. He was a man among boys. A total and utter fantasy.

  In quiet moments, she’d wondered if he was the reason she chose to date flighty, flaky types. She could never have Damian, so she went for the opposite—the loose cannons and the jokers. The guys who would never tempt her into falling in love.

  “Let me revise that,” Imogen said, narrowing her eyes. “Do I want to know?”

  “Probably not,” Lainey admitted. Her eyes snagged on the empty doorway where Damian had exited a few minutes ago.

  “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” Imogen asked, tracking Lainey’s gaze. “Not a good idea.”

  “Please, Immie,” she said. “He won’t know it’s me. I’ll keep my mask on and I’ll get out of there if things go bad.”

  “I thought you were only trying to wind Corinna up.” Her friend gripped her drink, her hand hovering in midair as though she’d forgotten about it. “Were you serious about him this whole time?”

  “I was,” she admitted. “But he never treated me as anything more than a little sister type. Please. This might be my only chance. Once I’m gone...that’s it.”

  After a moment, Imogen threw her hands in the air. “Fine. But I will not take sides if this blows up.”

  Lainey bit her lip, trying to trap the excitement inside her. One night to see if her fantasies could come true. Then she’d move on and pretend it never happened.

  Copyright © 2018 by Stefanie Little

  ISBN-13: 9781488082436

  Her Dirty Little Secret

  Copyright © 2018 JC Harroway

  All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.

  www.Harlequin.com