by Jo Raven
THE TRUTH SEEKERS' FIRST EXPOSE.
My heart stops beating for a moment, then starts again, double-time.
I'm trying to read the article, but the words are blurring together. I see my name, my real name, and Landon Steele's. Over and over again. I don't know exactly when I realize that I handed fucking Caleb my driver's license, and while nobody else knows or cares about my real name, I've been using it in connection with Landon Steele and it never even occurred to me how stupid that was.
They're comparing, side by side, passages from my Kimberly Tuggey books and my Landon Steele books. Although I've consciously tried for a different style, a different voice, there are little personal anecdotes and details that I'd forgotten I even wrote into the Kimberly books. No one else would ever notice, but if you're looking for them, the connections are there.
I'm numb.
Josh is sitting next to me, I realize, vaguely, with the small part of my brain that's still aware of what's happening in the real world. My head throbs, my heart is pumping painfully hard and fast.
"What is it? Kim, you're kinda...you're kinda scaring me a little."
"It's Blackwood," I manage to say. "Fucking Truth Seekers. He figured out who Landon Steele really is."
I swallow thickly.
"It's all over for me now."
Josh is looking at me, earnestly. His hand comes to my chin, lifting it up. "Kim, no. It's not. I promise it's not. You're smart, you're creative. You'll make something new, something that's not a gimmick. There'll be nothing to uncover, because it'll be real. Or some kind of real. It doesn't matter. You'll make something great. You did it before, and you can do it again."
I'm crying. I'm crying for my own stupidity, for the mistakes I've made, for every time I ran away from Josh when I should have been running towards him. I'm crying because I have an inbox full of messages accusing me of being a liar. I'm crying because this all spun so far out of control, so far, and when I came up with the idea I never dreamed any of this would happen. Never wanted any of it, really. It was a series of small events, one after the other, and each one was a choice that seemed insignificant at the time. But it all led to this.
I'm crying, and Josh holds me.
"Shhh," he tells me. "I promise you, baby, this is all gonna blow over in no time. It's the fucking internet."
At that, he manages to coax a smile out of me.
"Seriously," he says. "Miley Cyrus comes out with a new video, everybody forgets about Landon Steele. You can start over. That's the upside. You may only get fifteen minutes, but so does the scandal."
***
As usual, Josh is right.
It doesn't take long for people to forget. To stop caring. I try to avoid the discussion as much as I can, for my own sanity's sake. But I see bits and pieces - people speculating on who the "Landon Steele" was who appeared on TV. Most of them are right that he's an actor, but amazingly, no one manages to dig up Josh's headshot. And ultimately, I only get a few hate letters by snail mail.
Within a few months, none of it matters anymore.
And I do start over. This time, I'm not a personality. I'm just an author. I'm just someone with stories to tell, which is who I always was. Who I always wanted to be. I'm still writing romance, but I do it as a happily anonymous woman among a sea of similar names.
THE TRUTH SEEKERS never end up targeting anyone else. I practically gift-wrapped myself for them, and it seems they don't have the detective skills to ferret out anyone who's even slightly more subtle than me. Now that the whole thing's blown over, I can laugh about it, about how ridiculous and petty the whole thing is. When it comes out that Blackwood and Caleb were spotted getting a little handsy in the back of a cab after a New Orleans romance convention, I just smile to myself and privately wish them well.
Okay, okay, I know what you're wondering. What about Josh and me?
Josh and me are just fine.
In some odd twist of fate, he actually does end up meeting my parents at a wedding. It's my cousin's, though. He wears the same suit he wore as Landon Steele, and a couple of the guests ask if they know him from somewhere, but he just demurs that he's an actor and they might've noticed him on Lifetime or something. My mom absolutely loves him at first sight, and my dad lights up when they start talking about antique cars. Of course. I should've guessed.
"He's a keeper, honey," is what my mom says to me as we're hugging goodbye. Right in front of him.
"Mom," I protest, blushing like a traffic light. Josh just puts his arm around my shoulders and smiles.
Josh, as it turns out, has this weird gift for languages. One day, when he's helping me clean out my office, he finds some of the work I was doing on my fantasy worlds, and his eyes light up like a kid on Christmas. The next day, when I've finished my word count, I come out and find that he's filled a notebook with all the world-building I would never do. It's mostly pictograms and unreadable scrawls, but he knows what it means, and that's all that matters.
Together, we start building the world I always wanted to create. I realize now what was missing. Not love, not romance, and God, no, not a man - just someone to understand. Someone to share it with. The fact that he also happens to be an incredibly sexy man, who does in fact love me, is just gravy.
I'm still an idiot, but at least I'm an idiot in love.
And you can't ask for much better than that.
***
Want more steamy lies and the naughty liars who tell them?
Here's another hot story from New York Times bestselling author Melanie Marchande:
NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER!
I’m about to throw an ashtray at my boss’s head.
Turns out, the mind behind my favorite, steamy romance novels...the ones I only read in private...the ones that are my only escape after a long day of dealing with The Boss From Hell? It’s not Natalie McBride, the sweet, rural housewife.
It’s him.
That’s right: my boss, Adrian Risinger, the thirty-three-year-old, maddeningly sexy, pissant billionaire “bad boy" who thinks he runs my life. He is also the author of all my deepest, most secret fantasies. And to make matters worse, he needs me to impersonate “Natalie” at a series of book signings and conventions. But, of course, that’s only if I want to keep my job.
On second thought, I’m going to need something heavier than an ashtray.
HIS SECRETARY: UNDONE
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Melanie is a young writer who loves telling stories about dominant alpha males, sassy heroines, and the tangled webs they weave when they pretend to be something they're not. Oh, and kissing. Lots of kissing. Among other things.
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Table of Contents
Red Hot Alphas
MICAH (DAMAGE CONTROL 1)
by Jo Raven
SOMEBODY TO LOVE
(ROCK STARS IN DISGUISE: TRYP)
by Blair Babylon
HOT PURSUIT
by Olivia Rigal
MEETING MR. STEELE
By Melanie Marchande
MIXED UP
by Sky Corgan
MIDNIGHT MOONLIGHT
by V. J. Chambers
SORORITY SAINT
by Daizie Draper
CROSSED
by Lacey Silks
GET TO ME
by Holly Hood
ELECTRIC BLUE BUTTERFLIES
by Irma Geddon
SWEETEST TEMPTATIONS
by J.C. Valentine
Disclaimers and Copyright Notices
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MIXED UP
by Sky Corgan
MIXED UP
by Sky Corgan
MIXED UP © Sky Corgan 2014
Kira Golden needed a job, and just about anything would do. When she walked up the steps of the imposing Enkidu Industries building, she thought she’d just be interviewing for the receptionist position. She never expected to come face to face with a naked man.
Parker Bernier is a world-famous entrepreneur, and he has the ego that goes with it. Nothing seems out of bounds for the handsome blonde billionaire, and he’s not afraid to do what it takes to have his way. That includes having his way with Kira’s body.
Captivated by his skill and charm, Kira finds herself giving him more than her body. There’s another man after her heart though, and he’s not about to give up. When secret lovers come to light, there’s no way of knowing if Parker’s feelings are sincere, or if he’s just setting Kira up to fall.
CHAPTER ONE
Nine. That's the number of job interviews I've gone to this month. This is number ten, and it's going far worse than any of the ones before it.
There was a long gray hair in the takeout burrito I ordered for lunch, and when I started walking up to the imposing Enkidu Industries building, my heel slipped through a crack in the sidewalk and snapped right off. Up to that point, I was early. I'm always early. But an emergency trip back to my apartment to grab a new pair of shoes has put me fifteen minutes behind.
As I rush towards the building, I wonder why I'm even bothering. Who wants to hire someone who is fifteen minutes late? I'm already here though, so there's no harm in seeing if they'll still be willing to interview me.
My optimism is at an all-time low. Job-hunting is soul-sucking, and when you've been rejected as many times as I have, it's hard to keep a smile on your face and hope in your heart. I'm not even qualified for this job. It was a miracle they offered me an interview in the first place.
The woman at the front desk smiles pleasantly at me. I'll have to smile pleasantly at everyone who enters this building if I get this job.
“I'm Kira. I have a one—”
“Mister Bernier has been waiting for you. Third floor. Take a left, and it's the fifth door to the right.” She nods towards the elevator. The look she's giving me is odd, somewhere between annoyance and disdain.
I don't reply. I simply head to the elevator and thank God that I wasn't dismissed completely. At least they were nice enough to give me a chance. That's more than most companies would do.
As I ride the elevator up, I wonder how I got so lucky. Hopefully, Mister Bernier will be sympathetic to my excuse. Then again, guys have little sympathy for women's fashion crises. Maybe he'll be a kindly old man, or a perverted one. It's getting to the point where I'll resort to desperate measures to get a job. I take a moment to unfasten the top button on my blouse, letting a bit of cleavage show. If you've got it, you might as well use it. And I've definitely got it.
The air conditioner blows down on me as I walk through the hallway, helping to cool off the perspiration, making me look a bit more presentable. When I get in front of the door to Mister Bernier's office, I pause, gathering whatever fake confidence I can muster.
I knock hard, and a male voice from the other side tells me to come in. I inhale deeply before grabbing the door handle and twisting it to step into the room.
Whatever thoughts were occupying my head plummet off a cliff as my eyes land on muscular naked flesh. The breath I took only seconds earlier stills inside of me when my gaze falls to the thick, erect cock poised to greet me. My body throbs with unexpected desire; my mind goes insane with confusion.
“Close the door,” the man says firmly.
“I think I'm in the wrong room,” I stutter, taking a step back. Even though I know it's rude to stare, I can't pull my eyes away from his body. He's so breathtakingly handsome. Even if I don't get the job, the day definitely doesn't feel wasted.
“You're Kira, right?” He stares straight at me, his baby blues burning into me.
“Yes.” I hesitate. This has to be some mistake. How does this guy know my name, and why is he naked? This isn't even an office. It's just a small room with a massage table.
“Come inside and close the door.” He crosses his arms over his chest impatiently. When I don't budge, he reaches for my wrist and pulls me inside. Instinctively, I flinch, stumbling into the room and watching him close the door behind us. The look he gives me bites right through me. “What's wrong with you? Are you new?”
Am I new? I don't even know how to answer that. I have no idea what's going on. It's like I'm in some surreal fever dream.
My heart is beating incredibly fast. My voice is caught in my throat. And all I can do is stare at this gorgeous stranger as he stands naked before me, cock dangling to and fro.
“You're naked.” Dear God, Kira. Seriously? Did you just state the obvious? He's going to think you're a complete moron.
“I am.” His expression is unyielding as he rounds the table and pulls himself up onto it. “How do you want me?”
In so many ways. I would totally forgo my job interview to fuck him. I've never seen a man this attractive in all my life.
“I think you've mistaken me for someone else.” Despite my arousal, I slowly back towards the door. Once he realizes this is all just a case of mistaken identity, I'll be out the door and back to my boring life. Maybe I won't even bother trying to find Mister Bernier. Now that I've run into Mister Buck Naked, I'm late beyond saving. There's no way this level of tardiness is acceptable.
He casts an irritated look at me. “You're Kira from Zenway Massage, right? Mary's replacement.”
Relief flushes through me, though I don't know why. He did have me mixed up with someone else. I can't even imagine how embarrassed he's going to be when I tell him. “No. I'm Kira who's here for the receptionist position.”
The muscles in his shoulders tense as my words sink in. For a moment, the room is silent. I soak in the sculpting of his back while I wait to be dismissed.
“You're here for the receptionist position,” he repeats slowly as if he still doesn't quite understand. Then he scowls. “Idiot.” The harshness of his tone makes me want to cower. I'm just about to ask to be excused when there's a knock on the door. As I glance towards it, the man pulls himself around so that he's facing the door, his erect cock still on display for the next visitor. “Come in.”
A petite girl with long wavy black hair and a warm smile steps inside. She's wearing blue scrubs with the name Kira embroidered in red just below her left shoulder. This is the woman he was expecting. Not me, some clueless woman who still has no idea what's going on.
How the girl's eyes don't fall directly to the man's cock is beyond me. It's like she's seen him naked one hundred times before, like it doesn't even faze her. She casts a confused glance in my direction before outstretching her hand to Mister Naked. “Mister Bernier, I'm Kira. Sorry I'm late. I was stuck in traffic.” Her voice is sickeningly chipper.
Mister Bernier? Wasn't this the guy I was supposed to be interviewing with? Now I'm completely lost.
He doesn't even jump down from the massage table as he gives her hand a terse shake before looking between us. The tension in the air rises about ten levels as he carelessly rakes his eyes over our bodies. There's no hiding that he's checking us out like some lecher. My cheeks heat up as his eyes meet mine. Good God, a woman could get lost in those eyes for hours. Such a pale shade of blue with tiny flecks of gold. Gold, like his hair. I don't typically like blonds, but he's absolutely yummy. And natural. The curtains match the drapes. Just thinking about it makes my blush deepen.
“You said you're looking for a job.” His gaze is so intense I want to look away, but I don't. He's so intimidating in all of his naked glory.
“Mm-hmm,” I practically hum.
He turns his attention to the other Kira. “You can go.”
Her demeanor changes in a heartbeat as she casts a glance at me like I'm some kind of competition. “Was I s
o late that you called someone else?” The pitch of her voice makes it sound like she's accusing him of cheating on her, which is certainly not the case. I still don't know what's happening, but at least I'll have a story to tell Yolanda later.
“No. I've decided I no longer require your services today.”
She shifts her weight. “With all due respect, sir, it was a long drive over here, and while I realize I was late, Zenway does have a cancellation policy. You're still going to be charged for this visit.”
The annoyed look returns to his face. “That's fine. Just bill my account.”
“Would you like to reschedule?”
“I'll have the receptionist do it later.” He stares directly at me as he speaks. I can't help but wonder if that's a hint. If he was the guy that I'm supposed to interview with, then maybe he'll hire me after all due to this embarrassing mishap. One can only hope.
“All right.” The other Kira hesitates, noticing that his full attention is on me. “Well, I promise I won't be late next time.”
“That will be all.” He waves his hand towards her dismissively. In my peripheral vision, I can see her backing away. She bows politely, mutters something, and then disappears out the door, leaving me alone with Mister Naked. “I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding, Miss…”
“Golden. Kira Golden.” I fill in the blank for him.