PALE Series Box Set (New Adult Romance)

by Flynn, Mac

  I narrowed my eyes. "What about that dark study and all that crap you said to me?"

  "The dark study was for my benefit. I didn't trust myself to keep my true emotions hidden from you without it," he explained to me. "As for what I said, well, that was to throw the reporters off your scent and give you a few days rest."

  "So you still love me?"

  "More than ever."

  I wanted to kiss him and slap him, so I did both, and in that order. He frowned and rubbed his cheek. "What was that for?"

  "What do you think that was for? You tricked me!"

  He slyly grinned and shrugged. "We needed your part to be convincing."

  "My part? Convincing?" I poked my finger against his chest and with each jab he retreated a foot until he backed up into the brick wall of a building. "Who the hell do you think you are to be doing that to my emotions?"

  He sheepishly smiled. "Your future husband?" he guessed.

  I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him. "You've got a funny way of showing it."

  He stepped forward, swept me into his arms and trapped my lips in a kiss so passionate that the world around us disappeared. There was only his warm body against mine, and his lips sending an electrical charge of deep, heady emotions. It communicated his longing and love for me, and when we broke apart for air I could see the pain in his eyes. He'd really missed me, and I couldn't deny that I'd desperately missed him.

  "Is that a funny way of showing it?" he teased me.

  I caught enough air to reply, and playfully scowled at him. "It's a start, but you're still in the doghouse with me," I warned him.

  He smirked and wagged his eyebrows. "Woof," he replied.

  I rolled my eyes and pushed him away. "Down boy, I don't want you drooling all over me."

  "Even if I had that intention that won't be the dress you're going to wear," he told me.

  "Huh?"

  He reached into his suit and pulled out a magazine. "I don't know what you've been doing this past week-"

  "One long infomercial for anti-depressants," I replied.

  He paused and winced. "And I'll make sure that never happens again, but first we have some loose ends to tie up." He held out the magazine and I caught a glimpse of the cover story. It was all about how we'd broken up because I'd stolen valuable documents from him. My jaw dropped open and I glanced up into John's now-serious face. "I was hoping the cover stories would slow down, but there's been more fuel to the fire."

  "And courtesy of our old friends?" I guessed.

  "Exactly, but we're going to make them regret spilling their own story," he told me.

  I raised an eyebrow. "How? By chauffeuring them around the dark alleys of the city?"

  He chuckled. "Not exactly. Do you remember Cecil mentioning a Reporter's Dinner that's happening today."

  "I can barely remember what I had for my last meal," I replied. It'd been white bread with a single pickle. Like I said, my cupboards were bare.

  "The Reporter's Dinner is the chance for the media to rub elbows with the high-society people they report on."

  "Sounds like the perfect time for back-room dealing," I mused.

  "And the perfect time to out a reporter and his accomplices for the frauds they are," he added.

  I crossed my arms over my chest and tilted my head to one side. "And how are we going to do that?"

  John pulled down his sleeve again, and I saw the pale skin again. I could have slapped myself for not putting two-and-two together earlier. "How about I explain when we get there?"

  "Where's there?"

  "The Reporter's Dinner."

  I looked askance at him. "I know you're rich, John, but how are you going to get into a fancy affair without us being noticed?"

  He nodded at his seat where lay the hat and wig. "With a little help from the theater department at the university."

  CHAPTER 10

  "You're mad, you know that?" I asked him from the rear seat. John sat in the driver's seat and drove us to the Reporter's Dinner at the city's convention center. The normally mundane hall was now packed with more security than around the president, and there were throngs of people taking pictures of stars and their media watchdogs. This night they were going to be the lapdogs as deals were cut to avoid bad publicity in exchange for exclusives.

  "There may be a slight touch of madness in my family, but my plan isn't crazy," he insisted.

  I scoffed at his comment. "A slight touch of madness? You can't lie to me, I've met Cecil," I reminded him.

  John chuckled. "Good point, but this isn't madness."

  I leaned over the partition between the seats and Sassy at my side imitated me with her front paws. "You know, I might do a better job of arguing against this madness if you told me what you're planning to do."

  "You might, but I admire your bravery to argue in the face of ignorance," he teased.

  I knocked my fist against the back of his head. "Behave," I scolded him.

  He playfully cringed. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Good, now tell the nice ma'am what your plan is. You said you wanted to get us into the Dinner so we could get revenge on Andy and the other two. How are we going to do any of that?"

  John grinned, and it was full of mischievous evil. "The plan was put into action the day I sent you away. Our fake separation ensnared Mr. Parks into believing we weren't together, and his two anonymous sources also took the bait. Cecil and I have-"

  "Wait, Cecil's in on this, too?" I interrupted.

  "You think he'd want to stay out of all this fun?" he countered.

  "If he were sane, yes, but we are talking about your family here," I mused.

  "Exactly, so Cecil pulled a few strings at one of the larger, and more reputable, newspapers and we've set up an article to run tomorrow in a special edition of the paper."

  "Isn't that going to cost a mint? Newspapers don't usually run on Sundays," I pointed out.

  "It will, but since Cecil and I have a controlling interest in the company the editorial board had a hard time saying no. We also expect this to be a huge hit with the public so in the long run the paper will make back the costs."

  I snorted. "You're starting to sound like the bold businessman I knew you could be, and you're out in public without a chaperon."

  He smiled and glanced back at me. "You're with me," he reminded me.

  I waved aside his comment. "Right now, but nobody got you into this car and drove you to my place," I argued.

  He shrugged. "I suppose I didn't want to sit in my study moping for the rest of my life."

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. With the unexpected distraction he nearly drove us off the road. "I'm proud of you."

  "Don't be proud of me yet, you haven't seen me exact revenge on my enemies," he playfully countered.

  "But they're my enemies, too," I reminded him. "And on that note, you got as far as telling they were going to be humiliated in your paper, but not why we're going to the Reporter's Dinner."

  "That's for the revenge on Mr. Parks," John told me. "He's made quite a name for himself snooping into our lives and we're going to show him how wrong he is."

  "By barging into the Dinner and doing what?"

  "Not barging, sneaking in and presenting ourselves to the public as the romantic couple we truly are."

  "Is that what we are?" I coyly wondered.

  "Unless you have other ideas."

  "Maybe I didn't miss you during all those long days."

  "Then those days wouldn't have been long, and you wouldn't have slapped me."

  "You got me there. I'm always violent towards the ones I love."

  "Violently in love with them," he corrected me.

  "All right, lover boy, how are we supposed to sneak in and present ourselves as the love-sick couple?"

  He jerked his thumb back to the rear seats. "There's a package in the trunk from the theater department. They designed some disguises for us so we could sneak in, and Cecil pul
led some strings to get us a pair of tickets with fake names on them."

  "Does Cecil control the entire city?" I half-seriously asked him.

  "Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to," he scolded me.

  "Fine, but I do want to know what we're supposed to do once we get inside."

  John smirked and pulled off into an alley a block away from the convention center. "That's something you'll have to trust me on, but I'll give you a signal to take off your disguise." He turned off the engine and got out. I followed, and remembered a problem when I nearly shut the door on Sassy's face.

  "But what about Sassy?" I reminded him.

  "I have someone in mind to babysit her, but we won't be gone too long," he told me.

  I raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Does this person know they're going to be the babysitter?"

  John smiled back. "Not yet, but I don't think Uncle Cecil will mind too much."

  "You might be mistaken in that assumption," a voice spoke up. I yelped and jumped against John, and Cecil emerged from the shadows wearing a smirk. "Sorry about that, bad habit."

  "I don't see a problem with this situation," John quipped.

  I growled and pushed myself away from him. "Who needs enemies when I have you two plotting against me?"

  "Enemies are exactly what we're here to deal with, so focus on them," Cecil scolded.

  "Are the leaflets ready?" John asked him.

  In response Cecil pulled out a pack of leaflets and handed them to his nephew. "See for yourself."

  I slipped against John's side and looked over the pieces of paper. They were announcements for the following day's special newspaper printing, complete with a few intimate pictures of Monroe and Sievers. Nothing racy, but nothing to write home about. "Uh, where did you get these pictures?" I asked him. Cecil only smirked, crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "You're evil, you know that?"

  "I'm very aware of that."

  "I'm afraid we don't have much time for chatting," John spoke up. He glanced to his uncle. "Would you mind watching over Sassy while we have our fun inside?"

  "Very well, but don't have too much fun without us," he playfully requested.

  John's eyes gleamed with a mischievous light. "If we do you'll know by the people racing outside in a wild panic to escape our vengeance," he replied.

  "Hadn't you better hurry on with your vengeance before the night's finished? The Dinner is about to start," Cecil pointed out.

  John pulled out the bundle from the trunk and set it on the hood. He unwrapped it and I found myself staring at a flowered moo moo complete with a permed-hair wig and a pillow to fill out the dress. "You've got to be kidding me," I remarked. I grabbed the moo moo and held it out in front of me. "Is this some sort of sick joke put on by the theater people? Did they hate me that much?"

  "Hate you? Take a look at mine," John challenged me. I turned and my jaw dropped down when I saw him holding up a dark purple suit with a fluffy blouse that had ruffled cuffs.

  "Maybe they hate us both?" I guessed.

  John chuckled. "Actually, they saw it as a chance at free advertisement, so they created disguises that would be the complete opposite of our normal clothes." He held up a case full of makeup supplies. "And they showed me how to apply some very drastic makeup, as you saw from my act as your chauffeur."

  I smirked. "Act? I was hoping you were going to keep doing that. It was nice to be the passenger for once," I quipped.

  "Teasing later, dressing now."

  I pointed a finger at the moo moo. "Um, if that's the disguise, what am I supposed to show to everyone at the big reveal? My birthday suit."

  John grinned. "As much as I would like to see it, I have another outfit for you."

  "Uh-huh, you just want to keep me all to yourself," I teased him as he leaned into the back of the limo.

  "Possibly, but this is what I had in mind for you beneath your costume." He pulled out and showed me a long, silver, close-fitting dress with a low cut and practically no back.

  I raised my eyebrows. "You want me to try to fit into that?" I asked him.

  "It was made for your size," he assured me.

  I tested the cloth between two fingers and was amazed at how smooth the material felt. I was also amazed at how many of the silver hairs were from Sassy. "Was this in a box or did you let your cat walk all over it?"

  "It was in a box, and she did walk all over it," he replied.

  I laughed and took the dress from him. "I hope I don't blind anyone with this thing."

  "The clock is ticking, children," Cecil scolded us.

  We suited up, in John's case literally. His suit was easy to slip on, and he reapplied the dark makeup to his pale skin. He helped me apply a thick dose of makeup that gave me a heavy tan, and positioned the wig to perfectly cover my natural hair. By the time we were done I couldn't recognize myself in the car's rear-view mirror. I also didn't want to look in another mirror until I had this bulky, heavy, unflattering disguise off.

  "We done?" I asked my changed lover. John had on his purple suit with a wig of long black hair and a pair of large sunglasses.

  He stuck a fake gold cap over one tooth, spread his arms, and grinned at me. "What do you think?"

  "I think thinking wasn't involved in the making of these costumes."

  "Let's hope the low IQ of the attendees won't figure that out."

  "Um, these are reporters. Aren't they supposed to be good sleuths?" I pointed out.

  "Like Andy and his story about our separation?" he wondered.

  "Like Andy and his story about my car," I countered. "They're not all dumb, and these disguises are a little, well-"

  "-loud," Cecil finished for me.

  "Yeah, what he said."

  "We won't need them for very long, and at the time of revealing they will get us noticed by the crowd," John replied. He offered me his arm and an encouraging smile. "Now come on, Angel. Let's show them how wrong they were to count us out as a couple."

  I smirked and took his arm. "All right, boss."

  CHAPTER 11

  We left Cecil with Sassy and strolled down the block to the red carpet outside the convention center. Swarms of reporters and cameramen not invited to the event were along the carpet taking interviews and pictures. We stood out like two sore left thumbs, but John's step never faltered and I followed his lead. He toothily smiled at anyone who glanced our way and they gaped or turned away.

  We stepped onto the red carpet behind some bigwig movie stars and I pressed up against John. He leaned down so I could hear his whispering voice. "Steady there, Angel. Just keep smiling and we'll be okay."

  I nodded and plastered a wide, stupid grin on my face. A baby nearby burst into tears and a few people flinched away, but so did the cameramen. We strode the carpet like two walking carpet bags and came up to the door, where John handed the doorman our tickets. There was a tense moment when the man glanced down at our clothing with a raised eyebrow. "We're trying to blend in," John explained to his questioning glance.

  "I'm sure," the man replied. He checked the roster, and I almost collapsed from relief when he checked off two names and jerked his thumb behind him to the open doors.

  John led us inside the crowded convention hall. It was a single, large room with round tables placed in front of a stage at the end opposite the front doors. Doors stood on either side of the room and those led to small conference rooms. A few of them were open in case the main room needed a spill-over area. People milled around talking in groups and dining on the food offered by the waiters who made the rounds. I noticed some crab puffs on one of their trays, but when I reached for one John lightly smacked my hand. "Your makeup," he reminded me.

  My lips pouted together, but I sighed and nodded. We didn't want to be unmasked before John was ready. He guided us through the crowds, but I stopped him when I heard a familiar voice. "It's not easy dealing with the targets, but you get used to it," a man replied to an unheard question.

 
I frowned and pulled John in the direction of the man to find Andy among a group of eager listeners. The group was made up of both admirers and rival news men. One of the admirers looked in awe at her hero. "And you're never found out?" she asked him.

  Andy smirked and shrugged. "How? I never have my picture in my articles, and I make sure I get assigned to the ladies."

  "Why the ladies?" his admirer teased.

  "Because I treat them right, say to dinner, and they reward me with what I want to hear." He wagged his eyebrows and some of the women giggled. I wanted to sock him, but John kept me from doing the world a favor by firmly holding onto my arm.

  "Is that how ya got yer last lady to talk to ya?" John drawled out. I whipped my head up at him in shock at his changed accent.

  Andy glanced our direction and jerked back in revolution. One side of his mouth tilted up in a sneer. "It was," he admitted. He wouldn't miss a chance to brag. "She was pretty easy, especially after I rescued her from the mob in her apartment building and hired a guy to pretend he was trying to get into her apartment." I stiffened and my eye twitched. Andy noticed and his own eyes narrowed. "Something wrong with you?" he asked me.

  "Nervous tick," John hastily replied. He guided me away before I was put on trial for justifiable homicide. We stopped a half room away and he leaned down close beside my ear. "You have to do a better job of acting," he scolded me.

  "It's really hard when all I want to do is strangle him," I growled back. I glanced around the room and my eyes fell on two more familiar faces. They were Monroe and Sievers arm-in-arm and their other arms rubbing elbows with the paper people and celebrities. A sly smirk spread across my lips and I glanced up at John. "You want to see me act?" I challenged him.

  John frowned and I jerked my head in their direction. He followed my pointing, and when his eyes fell on the pair his lips pursed together and his eyes filled with a deep hatred. Nothing was better at stoking the flames of disgust than seeing a pair of traitors living the high-life without remorse. "Perhaps we had better avoid them," he growled.

  "Oh no, you had your fun so I can have mine," I insisted. I tugged him over to them and we caught the tail-end of a conversation.