Her Leading Hero

by Maggie Dallen

  “You did help me,” she said. “You helped me to face my ghosts. If it wasn’t for you pushing me, who knows how long I would have stayed hidden in the shadows, hiding from my former life.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck as she said it, tugging him down for another kiss.

  After another lengthy kiss that drowned out the fact that they were still in public and still the center of attention, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “That may be so, but I can’t thank you enough for being strong enough for both of us.”

  He nodded toward the stage. “That, what you did… It took guts. You put yourself out there and risked your pride for me.”

  She shrugged as if it was no big deal. “You’re worth a little wounded pride. And besides, it all worked out the way I’d hoped.”

  “Mmm,” he murmured as he leaned down for another kiss. He pulled away just enough to meet her gaze, to make sure she could see how serious he was. “I’m going to do my best to live up to your faith in me. I’ll do everything I can to be the man you deserve. Because you deserve the best, you deserve—”

  “I deserve you,” she said, her voice solemn. “I want you. I need you. I love you.”

  He forced himself to let it in. The love, the commitment, the new life. It wouldn’t be easy—redefining himself was an undertaking that might take years. But he could do it with her at his side. “Then you have me.”

  Now it was her turn to let out a short, choked laugh. “What’s so funny, my love?”

  She shook her head, glancing around at the packed theater and her friends, who were watching them with gleeful grins. “This. All of it. It’s like the happily ever after I only dreamed about. The happy ending that only happens in black-and-white movies. It almost doesn’t feel real.”

  He pulled her closer in his arms and held her tight. “That’s because it’s not an ending.” He leaned down and planted a kiss on the tip of her nose. “This is just the beginning.”

  Epilogue

  The theater looked the same, but different. The restorations Tamara and Gregory had paid for and implemented over the past two years had brought the theater back to its former glory. It had taken a couple of years, but the theater’s popularity had caught on, and it had become the “it” spot. They had a regular crowd of moviegoers on the weeknights, and the theater was booked out for the remainder of the year for events during the weekends.

  All in all, she’d call it a success. She knew his father thought so. Gregory teased him on a regular basis about how he’d won the challenge and turned a small pro bono project into a moneymaking success. At that point, his father typically pointed out that Gregory should be glad he’d pushed him—if he hadn’t, Gregory might never have won over the woman who would become his wife.

  And now the mother of his child. She absently smoothed a hand over her rounded belly as Alice and Nicholas, laughing, rehearsed their opening speech onstage. The doors would open any minute for the third annual bachelor auction, and the only person missing was the star bachelor.

  “Sorry I’m late,” Gregory called as he made his way down the aisle toward her.

  The sight of him made her smile and brought a flutter of butterflies—or maybe that was the baby kicking? All she knew was that she still had a schoolgirl crush on this man, on top of loving the hell out of him.

  “Are Caitlyn and Ben with you?” she asked.

  Meg and Jake walked in. Her friends were always the first to arrive for these big functions at the theater. They said it was for moral support, but she had a sneaking suspicion that they all missed the Operation Petticoat meet-ups as much as she did. Of course they all still hung out, but there was something about working together at the theater that held a special place in their hearts. Now, instead of scraping gum and scrubbing floors every other Saturday, they settled for volunteering at all of the charity fundraisers.

  “Their babysitter was running late,” Meg answered. “But they’re on their way.”

  Gregory had reached her side and wrapped a possessive arm around her waist, placing his hand against her belly. “How’s our boy?”

  “He’s fine,” she said, leaning back against him and closing her eyes for one blissful moment as she let him take some of the weight off her aching feet. “His mother, on the other hand… She could use a nap.”

  His laughter was soft and low and sent shivers down her spine. “After all the work you’ve put into tonight, I’d say you deserve a back rub, a hot bath, and then a good night’s sleep. What do you think?”

  She moaned softly at the tempting image. “Don’t tease me,” she said. “You know we can’t leave. Not until you’re done with your part.”

  He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He’d been such a hit at the first bachelor auction that he’d continued to star as the “bachelor” at these events. Of course, everyone knew he was taken—he’d made that very clear at the first auction. But the elderly woman who’d won him raved to all her friends about the incredible financial advice he’d given her, and now he was the catch of the night for his brain rather than his body.

  “They only love me for my mind,” he said with a melodramatic sigh.

  “Yes, it must be hard to be objectified like that,” she teased. “Thank goodness you have a wife who loves you for the whole package.”

  “That’s right. For better or for worse, for richer or poorer… You promised.”

  “Mmm.” She turned in his arms so she could face her husband. “And so did you. You know, for someone who was so afraid he couldn’t commit, you leapt into that whole ‘till death do us part’ thing awfully fast.”

  He shrugged. “I’m a quick study.”

  “Thank God,” she said with a laugh. “This baby will certainly be glad his daddy finally worked through his demons.”

  “Thanks to his mommy,” he added. She didn’t try to argue that it was the other way around—he’d saved her. They’d agreed ages ago that they each played a part in helping the other heal. There wasn’t just one hero in this relationship.

  “Did I tell you that Marc wants to throw the baby shower here at The Ellen?”

  “Fitting,” he said. “Since this is where it all started.”

  She ran her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. “Marc says I still owe Alex for forcing me into that ridiculous Veronica Lake costume.”

  “I would have spotted you in that crowd no matter what you were wearing.” He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Although, I wouldn’t mind seeing you in that costume again.”

  She laughed as he nibbled on her ear. “I hate to break it to you, but it’ll be a while before I fit into that dress again.”

  He pulled back to give her a seductive grin. “Have I mentioned that I like you even better without the dress?”

  Her answering kiss was cut short by Alice’s announcement that they were ready to open the doors for the auction. Which meant her husband was due up on stage at any moment.

  As she watched him walk away to his assigned waiting area, she couldn’t help but smile. Thank God this bachelor wasn’t up for grabs—he was all hers.

  He’d promised.

  And don’t miss Maggie Dallen’s A Chance Romance series.

  The Accidental Engagement and The Accidental Boyfriend are now available!

  Oops...

  It started as a regular night for New York City restaurant hostess Ivy Sinclair, until a rowdy customer turned out to be world famous playboy Jack Everett. Thanks to the paparazzi, now the world thinks they’re a couple—which couldn’t be further from the truth. But when a brooding, sexy businessman offers her a simply irresistible proposition...

  Uh oh...

  Just when cutthroat venture capitalist Daniel Gladwell thought he’d never close the deal with an Italian conglomerate, a simple mistake becomes the perfect opportunity. All he has to do is convi
nce Ivy to pretend to be Jack’s fiancée while on a business trip to Italy to offset Jack’s bad boy reputation. As long as Daniel doesn’t sabotage the plan by claiming the tempting waitress for himself...

  Oh yes!

  It was supposed to be a business only arrangement. But in the magic of the Tuscan countryside, neither Ivy nor Daniel can fight the attraction building between them. In the world’s most romantic setting, the line between business and pleasure is one that begs to be crossed...

  Chapter 1

  Ivy Sinclair thought she’d seen it all as a hostess at a hotel bar—but when a young man came running up to her with a look of panic before diving behind her hostess stand—well, now she’d really seen everything.

  “Excuse me, can I help you?” she asked, looking down at the top of his head as he crouched beside her.

  The young man barely looked at her. He was too busy peering around the edge of the stand toward the door. He muttered a curse as a large, brutish man wearing an intimidating scowl walked in.

  “I’m not here,” the young man at her feet whispered.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Please,” he added. His eyes widened and filled with panic. Ivy couldn’t help but take pity.

  The large man who looked ready to kill zeroed in on her. “Where is he?”

  She swallowed a lump of fear at the aggressive tone.

  “Where is who?”

  Ivy tried to keep her voice innocent but it came out as a squeak.

  She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m afraid I don’t know to whom you’re referring.”

  He leaned in closer and Ivy fought the impulse to run. “Where is Everett?” he growled.

  Ivy stared down the oversized thug who was leaning over the hostess stand. She tried not to flinch even as his hot, rancid breath hit her square in the face.

  “As I said before, sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  Several guests had paused in the hotel lobby, en route to the restaurant, to watch the drama unfold. The giant didn’t seem to mind the attention but this job was Ivy’s only source of income and she could repeat the manager’s lecture on courtesy and service verbatim. But above all else, her job was to be discreet.

  Ivy had to believe that meant covering for the well-dressed, albeit rumpled young man who was currently crouching behind the hostess stand, uncomfortably close to her legs. She didn’t know what the hidden man had done but she couldn’t blame him for hiding from the heavyset giant who loomed over her—he looked like a man who was capable of causing serious pain.

  And at this particular moment he looked like he would throttle her given the slightest provocation. Ivy was a good foot shorter than the brute, with a petite frame—not exactly an even match. She tried to keep her voice soft but stern—the same tone she used to cajole Otis, her parents’ German shepherd, into his cage when it was time to visit the vet.

  “I don’t know what this Mr.—uh—”

  “Everett. Jack Everett,” the man sneered.

  The name caused even more passersby to stop in their tracks. Why did that name sound familiar?

  “I don’t know what Mr. Everett has done, but I assure you I have not seen the man you described come into this restaurant.”

  His frown deepened into a menacing glare and she added, “If Mr. Everett comes looking for you, I’d be happy to pass along a message, Mr.—”

  He leaned in even closer. “You tell Jack that if I see him with my wife again, he’s a dead man.”

  Ivy’s hands clenched at her side. That was it. She couldn’t have people making death threats in her restaurant. She drew a deep breath and mustered her courage. “If you don’t leave immediately, I’m afraid I’ll be forced to call the police.”

  The burly man slammed a fist against the podium. “Listen, lady, I’ll do whatever I—” His voice cut off abruptly when she snatched up the phone and started dialing, keeping eye contact all the while.

  The man muttered a curse, shook his head, and backed toward the door. “You tell that little bastard I’m coming for him.”

  When she was certain the man was gone from view, Ivy let out a deep breath and looked down at the young man.

  “You are my hero,” he said with a grin.

  Ivy rolled her eyes and reached out a hand to help him to his feet. “You’re Jack, I presume?”

  The young man paused on his knees, a lock of floppy brown hair partially covering eyes that were filled with mischief.

  “If I were you, I would get out of here quick, before he comes back,” she said.

  He ignored her advice and grasped her hands in his. “I’m serious, I owe you my life. That guy was going to kill me.”

  Ivy stifled a laugh at his melodramatic tone. He looked to be around the same age as her—most likely in his late twenties—but everything from his laughing eyes to his mussed hair said he was a little boy in a grown man’s body.

  “In case you didn’t hear, that nice gentleman would prefer that you stay away from his wife. I hope you take his advice,” she added, allowing honesty to outweigh discretion for a moment.

  His look was sheepish and he gave her an adorable lopsided grin but he made no attempt to deny the accusations. The man had the face of a movie star and clearly the charm and confidence to go with it. She shouldn’t be surprised that he was a ladies’ man. Working in a hotel restaurant she’d witnessed more than her fair share of adulterous rendezvous. She’d thought she was worldly-wise when she’d first started working at the hotel. She was no longer fresh off the bus from her tiny hometown in Ohio, but she’d still been shocked by the constant and casual affairs. Now, after two years in one of New York’s swankiest hotels her scandalized disgust had given way to weary disapproval.

  The young man was still on his knees and resisted her insistent tug. She was horrified to realize that the crowd of people who’d gathered to witness the earlier scene were now watching her—with more than a little amusement. Heat flooded her cheeks and she dipped her head. “Please stand up,” she muttered.

  He flashed her a wicked grin. “Not until you accept my sincere gratitude—”

  “Fine, you’re welcome. Now stand up, please.”

  “And tell me how I can repay you,” he finished.

  “You can repay me by standing up.” Whether it was her pleading tone or the red cheeks, he did stand up—and planted a sloppy kiss on her lips. Sputtering with surprise and embarrassment, she pushed him away and turned her face from the people who were now laughing and clapping. Ivy ducked her head, trying to hide her flaming cheeks behind a curtain of hair. She grabbed Jack by the hand and dragged him into the hallway leading to the restrooms, away from the prying eyes of strangers. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Sorry,” he drawled. “I just wanted to say thank you.” His eyes were wide with innocence but the unapologetic grin told her that he found her distress entertaining.

  “You’ve said it,” Ivy said with a scowl. She tugged her hand out of his and crossed her arms into her chest.

  His lips twitched in what she assumed was a valiant attempt to keep from laughing. “Do you know who I am?”

  Ivy blinked at the sudden turn in conversation. “According to your friend who was just here, I’d assume you’re Jack Everett.”

  He crossed his arms and leaned back, his eyes searching her face, waiting for something—some sort of recognition, no doubt. The hotel where she worked was one of the most exclusive in the city; nearly every guest thought they were famous as well as rich. They were almost always wrong.

  “Should that mean something to me?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Nothing at all. So now that we’ve established my name, why don’t you tell me yours?”

  “Ivy Sinclair.”

  “As in poison ivy?”

  “As in ‘The Holly and the
Ivy’.” At his raised eyebrow, she explained.

  “My mom has a thing for Christmas.”

  “Don’t tell me you have a sister named Holly,” he teased. She gave a sheepish shrug and he burst out laughing.

  He gave a jaunty salute as he walked back toward the hotel lobby.

  “Thank you for saving my life, Ivy Sinclair. I’ll be in touch.”

  * * * *

  Word had spread quickly in the hotel and less than twenty minutes after Jack left, Ivy had been summoned to the manager’s office. Franklin Webster was known for being a tough boss but he kept his mouth shut through the entire tale, giving her a chance to fully explain her side of the story.

  Ivy cleared her throat and forced herself to continue despite Franklin’s intimidating frown. “So you see, sir, I really didn’t intend to cause such a scene. I was trying my best to keep the situation under wraps. But this young man...well, I’m afraid he was a bit of a ham and he sort of made me—er, us—the center of attention.”

  When she’d finished explaining, he took his time polishing his glasses and made a show of straightening his tie. Ivy tried not to squirm in her seat. Every time she was called into Franklin’s office she couldn’t help but feel like she’d been called in to see the principal. More nerve-wracking since the only times she was called on to speak to the principal were when her sister Holly was in trouble.

  “Ivy, do you have any idea who Jack Everett is?”

  Ivy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Uh, no sir.”

  Franklin sighed. He handed her a copy of one of the tabloids that were sold in the hotel’s gift shop.

  Ivy stared at the front cover, momentarily speechless. There he was—the man who’d huddled by her feet while she fended off an angry husband. He was flashing the camera that now-familiar cocky grin, one hand on the back of a supermodel as they made their way toward a waiting limo. “Tech Mogul Out on the Town,” the headline read. Ivy had never taken much interest in gossip columns or celebrities and today her willful ignorance was on display.