One-Click Buy: March 2009 Silhouette Desire

by Katherine Garbera

  “I’m not…” She gazed into his mocking eyes.

  He raised a brow.

  Instinct told her to grab the yes before he could change his mind. But here? With Alec? For weeks on end?

  She thought back to the hotel room key, and to the way her stomach had quivered in daring anticipation for the split second when she’d thought about accepting it. She was older now, wiser, and she knew full well the importance of leading a perfectly circumspect life—one that didn’t include a stint on the front page of the tabloids.

  But the quiver was still there. And she knew that he knew. She could fight it all she wanted, intellectualize it all she wanted, but the bald truth was that she was attracted to the man. She and several thousand other women fantasized about a night in Alec Montcalm’s bed. And Alec would take advantage of that in any way he could.

  But then she pictured Jack’s joy, her pride when she told him she’d succeeded. She thought about her grandmother and the whole Hudson clan. For once, she’d be part of the team.

  “I’ll stay,” she told Alec.

  Raine squealed in delight.

  Alec reached for his wineglass, raising it in a mock toast while his dark, molten eyes told her the chase was on.

  “They will hound you,” said Kiefer, as he geared his mountain bike down for the incline.

  “She’s a friend of Raine’s,” Alec defended, following suit, putting more power to his pedals.

  They were on a dirt road that wound along the ridgeline above the Montcalm estate. The tires bumped beneath Alec, and sweat began to form at his hairline as the sun cleared the eastern horizon, lighting up the river and the patchwork of fields and woods below.

  “So?” Kiefer demanded. “It’s a Hollywood movie. There’ll be press all over it. You know how the Japanese are going to react—”

  “It’s under control,” Alec cut in, even though the venture wasn’t anywhere near under control. He was attracted to Charlotte, and he’d let that attraction overrule his logic. Filming a movie in his living room? Kiefer, his vice president, was right to be ticked off. They’d met with a high-priced image consultant only last week, and Alec had agreed to try to be more circumspect in his personal life.

  “Kana Hanako wants a business partner, not a playboy.”

  “It’s a business deal,” said Alec, taking a swig from his water bottle, refusing to acknowledge Kiefer’s point. “They’re renting the château.”

  “Who’s the star?”

  “Ridley Sinclair.”

  Kiefer snorted. “You know what I mean.”

  “Isabella Hudson. I’ve never even met her.”

  Kiefer gaped at him. “The Isabella Hudson?”

  Like there would be another. “She is a member of the family.”

  “You’re going to have Isabella Hudson staying at the Château Montcalm. Good God, Alec, why not just go ahead and murder someone? Even the Japanese tabloids will pick up you and Isabella Hudson.”

  “I’m not going near Isabella Hudson. There’ll be no pictures, nothing whatsoever for them to report.”

  But Kiefer wasn’t listening. He was inside his own head, obviously dreaming up one dire scenario after another. “You’re going to have to move out.”

  “No,” said Alec.

  “Go stay in Rome. Better still, go to Tokyo and work with Akiko on the prototype.”

  “They don’t need me in the bike lab.” If the one he was riding was anything to go on, R & D had made great strides with the frame alloy.

  “Well, I need you out of Provence.”

  They crested the hill, and Alec grabbed a higher gear, putting his frustration into muscle power that produced speed. Let a film crew invade his house yet miss his chance with Charlotte? No way.

  “I am staying in my home,” he told Kiefer, bending his head into the wind.

  “We need a mitigation strategy,” Kiefer called, falling slightly behind.

  “Mitigate this!” Alec sent back a rude hand gesture.

  “Don’t let the press catch you doing that.” Kiefer caught up. “Could you maybe get married?” he huffed.

  Alec rolled his eyes. He’d yet to meet a woman who wasn’t after his money or his status—usually both.

  “At least find a girlfriend? Not forever, just while Isabella is there. Somebody who’s a nobody, a plain Jane who won’t get you into any trouble.”

  Alec didn’t want a plain Jane nobody. And he had zero interest in Isabella Hudson. He wanted Charlotte.

  And then he realized he’d missed his big chance. “Damn,” he spat out.

  “What?” Kiefer glanced from side to side.

  He could have made that a condition of the movie location deal. What was he thinking? Charlotte could have played his girlfriend for a couple of months.

  “What?” Kiefer repeated.

  But it was too late now. She didn’t strike him as the kind of person who would renegotiate.

  “I almost had a girl we could bribe,” Alec admitted.

  “Who?”

  Alec shook his head. “We missed the boat on that one.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Nobody.”

  “Perfect,” said Kiefer with enthusiasm.

  “I lost my leverage.” Alec slowed his bike, taking a right-hand turn into the pullout beside Crystal Lake.

  “Well, what was your leverage?” Kiefer’s voice was eager.

  “Oh, no, you don’t.” Alec braked to a halt and put his feet down, taking in the view of the lake while they took a breather.

  “Oh, no, I don’t what?”

  “She’s smart, tough and unreasonable.”

  “At least give me a shot.” Kiefer squirted a stream of water into his open mouth.

  “There’s no real problem,” said Alec. “The Kana Hanako brass aren’t going to give up my Tour de France connection, no matter what the tabloids write.”

  “Yeah, but they can make my life hell in the meantime. Do you know how much time I waste being yelled at by Takahiro’s translator?”

  “Do you know how much I pay you to get yelled at by Takahiro’s translator?”

  “Not nearly enough,” Kiefer grumbled. Then he recapped his water bottle and ran spread fingers through his short hair. “Who were you talking about?”

  Alec shook his head.

  “I swear I won’t even talk to her.”

  Alec paused. “Charlotte Hudson. She’s the friend of Raine’s.”

  “Ah.” Kiefer instantly caught on. “You could have bribed her with access to the château.”

  Alec nodded.

  “She’s not Isabella’s sister or something?”

  “Maybe a cousin. I’m not sure. Raine says Charlotte grew up with her maternal grandparents, mostly in Europe. Her grandfather’s the U.S. ambassador to Monte Allegro. She works for him.”

  “Sounds tame enough,” Kiefer mused.

  “The plan’s off the table. I had a hard enough time getting her to stay at the château for the shoot.”

  Kiefer came alert. “She’s staying at the château?”

  “Don’t touch it.” Alec’s tone was flat.

  “I’m just sayin’—”

  “You are not leaking her to the press.”

  “Well, somebody’s going to ‘leak’ something. Better it’s her than Isabella.”

  “In whose opinion?”

  “Mine.”

  “You don’t count. You’re the hired help.” Alec snapped one foot back onto the pedal and pushed off.

  Kiefer quickly followed suit. “Will you at least ask her?”

  “I will not.”

  “If she says no, she says no. But she might—”

  “She’ll never agree.”

  “How do you know?”

  Alec pulled onto the rough road for the return trip. “It’s like this,” he explained with exaggerated patience. “You’re executive assistant to an ambassador. You like your job. In fact, the ambassador is your own grandfather. A man with a public reputation like mine
asks you to pretend to date him in order to protect his reputation. You say…what, exactly?”

  “Point taken,” Kiefer admitted.

  They rode in silence to the crest of the hill, where Alec’s thoughts turned to the croissants his cook had been putting in the oven when they left the château.

  “Still,” Kiefer continued, as their speed picked up and the morning air whipped past, “the worst she can do is say no.”

  “No, no, no,” Charlotte emphasized into the cordless telephone. “You can’t put Syria next to Bulgaria. Put them next to Canada, or the Swiss—”

  The telephone handset was summarily tugged out of Charlotte’s hand.

  “Hey!” She twisted her head to Raine, who was lying back in the next deck lounger.

  “Charlotte has to go now, Emily,” Raine said into the handset. “She’s in the middle of a pedicure.”

  “You can’t do that,” Charlotte protested.

  But Raine calmly hit the off button.

  “You need to hold still,” warned the esthetician working on Charlotte’s toes. “Or you’ll have purple passion streaked halfway to your ankle.”

  “You listen to her.” Raine gestured with the phone.

  “You hung up on Emily.”

  “You’ve been on the phone with her for half an hour.”

  “It’s the summit dinner. She was about to put Syria next to Bulgaria.”

  “Will it cause a war?”

  “Maybe,” said Charlotte, glancing down at her toes. The purple passion sparkled in the sunshine. She’d borrowed a sea-blue two-piece bathing suit from Raine, and they were lounging on thickly padded lounge chairs next to the Montcalm pool. An emerald lawn stretched out in front of them, while lush cypress trees and flowering shrubs screened them from the house, offering dappled shade.

  “They’re cultural attachés,” Raine pointed out. “I doubt they have the launch codes.”

  “Maybe not. But I can’t just walk away from my responsibilities on a moment’s notice.” Charlotte had spoken with her grandfather this morning, and he’d been more than gracious in giving her the time off, telling her not to worry. But there were about a thousand details she had to make sure were passed on to other staff members.

  “I did,” said Raine. “When I heard you were here, I walked right off the shoot in Malta and onto the corporate jet.”

  “Is that a problem?” Charlotte quickly asked.

  “I guess we’ll find out when the October issue hits the stands, won’t we?”

  “No, seriously—”

  “The magazine will survive, and so will the ambassador. You need to relax.”

  “You should not move for at least half an hour,” Charlotte’s esthetician advised, admiring Charlotte’s toes as she rose from her chair.

  “Thank you,” said Charlotte, raising her newly polished fingernails and fluttering them to compare to her matching toes.

  Raine’s esthetician finished a final topcoat, and the two women began to pack their things.

  Charlotte leaned over to whisper to Raine. “Do we tip or something?”

  “All taken care of,” Raine whispered back. “Shall I ring for strawberries and champagne?”

  “It’s still morning.”

  “You’re on vacation. And you’re in Provence.” Raine grinned and hit a speed-dial button on the phone.

  “At this rate, I may never leave,” Charlotte muttered, sighing and relaxing back into the soft lounger.

  While Raine talked to the kitchen, Charlotte closed her eyes, letting the soft breeze caress her face and listening to the gentle hum of the cicadas fill in the background.

  “Quick!” Raine’s elbow jolted Charlotte back to reality. “Take a look.”

  Charlotte blinked against the bright sunshine, scanning the lawn beyond the pool and coming to two male figures.

  Alec. And he was dressed in bicycle shorts and a spandex shirt that clung to every sculpted muscle.

  “Isn’t he the hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” asked Raine.

  He was, but it seemed an odd thing for Raine to notice. “Alec?”

  “Nooo.” Raine grimaced. “Kiefer. The guy with him.”

  “Oh.” Charlotte hadn’t paid the least bit of attention to the slightly shorter man with short, sandy-blond hair striding down the brick pathway next to Alec.

  “He’s our vice president,” Raine elaborated. “The girls in the office go ga-ga over him.”

  “Sounds like you do, too.” Charlotte chuckled, watching the man named Kiefer saunter closer. He was probably six foot two. Though a slighter build than Alec, he was well muscled with an angular face, square jaw and an easy, self-confident stride.

  “Don’t you dare say a word,” Raine warned.

  “You don’t want to date an employee?” Charlotte asked, her gaze moving involuntarily to Alec. Now that was a gorgeous man. Everything about him moved in perfect symmetry.

  “I don’t want him to think I’m one of his groupies,” Raine corrected.

  “It’s that bad?”

  “Just look at him,” Raine scoffed.

  Charlotte glanced back for a split second. Sure, he was attractive enough. But she wasn’t sensing the animal magnetism she saw in Alec. If the girls in the office were going to go ga-ga, she would have thought Alec would be their target.

  The two women halted their conversation as the men came within earshot. They stopped in front of the two loungers. Kiefer’s gaze swept Charlotte without sparing a single glance for Raine.

  “This is your plain Jane?” Kiefer asked Alec, astonishment clear in his tone.

  Charlotte shot Alec an exaggerated expression of offense. “I’m your what?”

  Alec’s jaw tightened. “Smooth, Kiefer.” He drew a breath. “Charlotte, this is my vice president, Kiefer Knight. He’s just come up with the most ridiculous idea in the world.”

  Three

  Kiefer pulled a deck chair up next to Charlotte’s lounger, angling away from Raine. She could feel Alec’s gaze on her honey-brown skin. Maybe a bikini hadn’t been such a good idea after all. His attention was raising goose bumps, and she couldn’t help imagining his fingers trailing over her stomach, down the length of her legs…

  “I’m concerned about Alec’s reputation,” Kiefer began in a gentle, cajoling voice.

  Charlotte forced herself to concentrate on Kiefer’s words.

  “I understand Isabella Hudson is starring in your movie.”

  “My family’s movie,” Charlotte corrected. All she’d done was secure the location. Well, and she was going to babysit the shoot. But that was only because Alec was being obstinate. She really had no role here except pandering to his need for power and control.

  “If they’re together here, rumors about Alec and Isabella are bound to circulate.”

  Her gaze shifted to Alec, who still stood indolently at the foot of her lounger, taking in the color of her toenails.

  “You’re involved with Bella?” she asked him. For some reason, the idea put a cramp in her belly.

  “You’re botching this,” Alec growled at Kiefer.

  Kiefer held up his hands in surrender. “Be my guest.”

  “Kiefer wants you to pretend to be my girlfriend to forestall any gossip about me and Isabella.”

  Charlotte tried to sort out his words. “You’re dating Bella?” Why hadn’t Isabella asked for the use of the château? Why had Jack sent Charlotte? And what was Alec doing flirting with her?

  “I am not dating Isabella,” he huffed in exasperation.

  “But she’s high profile,” Kiefer put in. “And beautiful. And the press will invent their own headlines.”

  Charlotte got the picture. They wanted to throw her to the wolves to save Alec’s reputation. Like there was any hope for Alec’s reputation.

  “Is this a joke?” she asked.

  “Sadly,” said Alec, “Kiefer is completely serious.”

  “He’s been gracious enough to let you use the château,” Kiefer put in.
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  “Here’s a thought,” suggested Charlotte, an edge to her tone. “Alec can keep his hands off Isabella, and then there’ll be no reason for a ruse with ‘Plain Jane.’”

  “I am not going to have my hands on Isabella,” Alec practically shouted.

  Charlotte barely glanced at him then turned to Kiefer. “Problem solved.”

  “The tabloids don’t rely on the truth,” said Kiefer.

  “Apparently,” Charlotte shot back, “neither do you.”

  “Has anyone thought about Charlotte’s reputation?” asked Raine.

  “Charlotte has,” said Charlotte.

  “He could have made it a condition of the contract,” Kiefer pointed out.

  “He didn’t,” Alec said flatly.

  Charlotte turned to Alec once more. “Do you think it’s a good idea?” Not that she’d go along with it in any event. And thank goodness Alec hadn’t asked for it before they closed the deal.

  “I think it’s an idea,” he said, obviously choosing his words carefully. “Good? Not sure. But it might deflect speculation.”

  “Since when have you cared about speculation on your love life?”

  Kiefer jumped in again. “Since the president of Kana Hanako, our Japanese partner, expressed concern.”

  “Something I should know about?” asked Raine, her alert, businesslike tone at odds with her bikini-clad pose on the lounger.

  Kiefer’s attention went to her for the briefest of seconds, but then he blinked and focused on the small pool house behind her. “It’s not that serious.”

  “Then why are we having this conversation? Charlotte’s not going to trash her reputation by being seen with Alec—”

  “Hello?” Alec tossed in.

  Raine waved a dismissive hand. “You made your bed a long time ago, mon frère.”

  “Just don’t make a bed with Isabella,” Charlotte advised.

  “I have no interest in Isabella.” His eyes darkened to walnut, pinning Charlotte in place. “Can I talk to you in private?”

  Not when he looked like that. Not when the predatory set of his jaw made her skin tingle and her spine turn to jelly. “I’m letting my toenails dry.”

  Both Raine and Kiefer stilled, while Alec stared at her in silence. Clearly, people didn’t normally turn down Alec’s requests.