Kiss Me Forever (Bachelors & Bridesmaids #1)

by Barbara Freethy

  "No, but it's not like I'm their real kid." He kicked at a spot on the carpet. "It's okay. I don't really care. They're better than some of the people I've lived with."

  Alex nodded in agreement, wishing he could tell Tyler that everything would be fine. But would it? He knew firsthand how tough life could be, especially for a kid on his own. "I've got some things to do this weekend. Why don't you come by Monday after school? I'm going to test a new game that's still in early development. I could use your opinion." He liked to involve Tyler in the games for two reasons: one, to keep the kid engaged in life, and, two, because teenage boys were his target demographic.

  Tyler's face lit up. "Awesome. Can I run the train once before I go?"

  Alex smiled. In addition to his game business, his company constructed some of the most sophisticated model trains in the world, and one of those trains wound its way around his office on sleek silver tracks.

  Alex pushed the controller over to Tyler. "Go ahead."

  While Tyler started the train, Alex checked his calendar to see what he had scheduled for the weekend: dinner tonight, sailing on the bay tomorrow and another party tomorrow night. It should be enough to keep a reporter from World News Today happy. He could show her the wonderful, exciting life he led. She would be dazzled, and he would be Man of the Year.

  His smile turned into a sigh. Press was a necessary evil, but he didn't enjoy interviews, especially in-depth profiles. Hopefully, he would not have to answer too many questions.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he watched the train begin its path around the office, through the tunnel, under the chair, and over the file cabinet. He'd always loved trains. And while they were only a small part of his business, they were probably his favorite part.

  Tyler looked over at him in delight, his smile turning mischievous as they heard his assistant's voice outside the door. Alex gave a negative shake of his head, but as Ellen pushed the door open, Tyler hit the whistle. The shrill noise caused Ellen to take an abrupt step backward.

  Tyler laughed, and Alex bit back a smile.

  Ellen was a fifty-eight-year-old woman who'd been with him for the last five years, and while she was usually a good sport, she'd never been a big fan of all the games in his office.

  "Very funny," Ellen said dryly. "Do I need to remind both of you that this is a place of business?"

  "I better go," Tyler said quickly.

  "Good idea," Alex said. "And get your homework done before Sunday night. I don't want to have the Monroes on my case about letting you hang around here."

  "I will," Tyler promised, bolting out the door.

  As Tyler left, Ellen handed him an envelope. "Baseball tickets for the Cougars game next Friday night, courtesy of superstar Matt Kingsley."

  "Nice," he said with a smile. "If the reporter is still around then, that will give me something else to take her to."

  "Having this woman around for a week is going to be a lot different than granting a one-hour interview. I don't understand why you agreed to it," Ellen said, bewilderment in her eyes.

  "They caught me in a weak moment," he admitted. "And a cover story with a lot of free press just before the launch of my next game was impossible to resist."

  "She's going to be digging into your life, Alex."

  "She's not going to find out anything about me that I don't want her to find out. I'm an expert at this. Trust me.

  "I did some research on Andrea Blain. She covers politics and wars. She's not going to be a pushover. She's a serious journalist."

  "How serious could she be if she got this story?" He stood up. "I'm not worried. I can handle her. If she starts digging in too deep, I'll just turn her in the other direction."

  "That would be easy if she were a dog on a leash, but I don't think she is," Ellen replied.

  "You never know. Neither of us has actually seen this woman. If she's as hard as nails, she probably has a face like my aunt's old bulldog, a big pudgy nose and a fat pink tongue. In fact..." He stopped abruptly, realizing that he and Ellen were no longer alone. A slender, blonde woman stood in the doorway, her snapping blue eyes filled with outrage.

  "Please go on," she said.

  "Who are you?" he asked, even though he already knew.

  She gave him a grim smile. "I'm the bulldog."

  Chapter Two

  "Andrea Blain." Alex repeated her name while his gaze traveled slowly over her face. She did not resemble a bulldog in any way. Dressed in black pants with a short gray jacket over a silky top, she was slender and more than a little attractive. Her hair was pulled back from her face in a knot, setting off beautiful features, wide-set blue eyes, dark lashes, and a very pretty mouth that would have been even prettier if her lips weren't drawn in a tight angry line. She wasn't more than five feet and a couple of inches even with heels on, but her shoulders were stiff, and her slim body was poised in a way that exuded challenge.

  He exchanged a quick look with Ellen, whose gaze said I told you so.

  Then he stepped forward and extended his hand. "I'm Alex Donovan."

  "Of course you are," Andrea replied, giving his hand a brief shake. "I already know your name. It's everything else I'm here to find out."

  "This is my assistant, Ellen Hill."

  Andrea nodded in the older woman's direction. "It's nice to meet you. I hope we'll have time to talk, if not today, then another time. I'm sure you must have a different perspective on our Man of the Year."

  "He's a good employer. That's all I have to say." Ellen turned to Alex. "Do you need anything else tonight?"

  "Yes," he said quickly. "I'll walk you out." He turned to the reporter. "Miss Blain, if you'd like to have a seat, I'll be right with you."

  "All right," she said.

  He walked Ellen into the outer office, shutting his door behind him. "Maybe you could call me in a half hour. I might need an emergency exit."

  Ellen smiled as she took her purse out of a drawer. "That won't help. You've agreed to let her follow you around all weekend."

  "So maybe I'll have an emergency out of town."

  "I thought you weren't afraid of her."

  "That was before I saw her."

  "Good point. I think you should be worried."

  "Because she's that good of a reporter?"

  "No, because she's that pretty, and just your type."

  "I can get a blonde any night of the week." He wasn't being arrogant; he was speaking the truth.

  "But you can't get that kind of blonde any night of the week," she said with a sparkle in her eyes. "You've always liked a challenge, Alex. Have a good weekend. And good luck!"

  He had a feeling he was going to need it.

  * * *

  Andrea wandered around Alex's office, unwilling to admit that her first sight of Alex Donovan had been more unsettling than she'd expected, and it wasn't just because she'd overheard him call her a bulldog; she'd been called far worse on the job. It was because he was much better looking in person than he was in the pictures she'd reviewed. His hair was a darker, richer brown, with thick waves just made for a woman's fingers to run through, and his eyes were a piercing green. His smile was also incredibly charming and sexy, which probably got him everything he wanted. He wouldn't have trouble getting women if he didn't have a penny in his pocket.

  She cleared her throat, silently telling herself not to get carried away. He was just a man, after all. Actually, he might be more boy than man, she thought, noting the railroad tracks that traveled around the room, the videogames and monitors set up along one wall, the basketball hoop in the corner and the shelves of comic books. She probably shouldn't be surprised. Alex Donovan had made millions in the gaming industry. He had to have a good head for figuring out what kids wanted to play.

  "Sorry for the delay," he said as he returned to the office.

  She turned around to face him. "No problem. Are you ready to begin our interview?"

  "I'm always ready."

  "Good. I think we should set some gr
ound rules before we begin."

  Alex raised his eyebrows quizzically. "Like what?"

  "As to how we'll proceed. Since we're going to be spending some time together, we should decide just how we're going to fill it. For instance—"

  "I have decided." Alex cut her off in midsentence. "You're free to follow along on my activities, but they will be activities that I choose, not you. I'm only consenting to do this interview because I happen to enjoy reading your magazine."

  "You read World News Today?" she asked doubtfully.

  He met her gaze. "Does that surprise you?"

  "A little," she admitted.

  "So, you've already made a judgment—I thought you were here to get to know me."

  "I am, and you're right."

  A gleam came into his eyes. "A woman who can admit she is wrong—now I'm surprised."

  "And you're also making a generalization."

  He nodded. "Good point. So we table the snap judgments and generalizations?"

  "All right."

  "Getting back to the rules governing our interview. You may ask any question that you like, and I, in turn, will answer any question that I like."

  He delivered his terms with a charming smile, but Andrea wasn't at all fooled. He was not going to make getting his story easy, at least not the story she wanted—the one that would flesh out his true character. But she wasn't going to argue the point now. She would bide her time and wait for her opportunity. Hopefully, it would come sooner rather than later. Roger had given her ten days, and she could not come up short again, not after the last six weeks.

  "Well?" Alex prodded.

  "Whatever you say. I certainly want you to be comfortable."

  What she really wanted was to shake him up and get him to confess all sorts of scandalous secrets to her. But so far, she seemed to be the one feeling a little off balance.

  "Thank you," he said. "By the way, if I offended you with the bulldog remark, I apologize. I had no idea you were standing there."

  "So you're not sorry that you said it, only sorry that I heard you." She sent him a direct look and waited for him to squirm, but he didn't, and it was rather disconcerting. Instead of anger, she saw another smile play across his lips.

  "Would it surprise you to know that I was very fond of my aunt's bulldog?"

  His smile grew broader and more persuasive, and Andrea had to fight with herself not to respond. She decided to change the subject. "What plans do you have for this evening, Mr. Donovan? My boss mentioned something about dinner."

  "Why don't you call me Alex, and I'll call you Andrea? As for tonight, I have reservations for dinner at the Crystal Terrace."

  It was just what she had expected, the most expensive and trendiest restaurant in San Francisco. "Very nice. But you don't have to impress me. I'm much more interested in the real man than the image."

  "Really?" he asked dryly. "Then you're the first in a long time. Let me sign one contract, and we'll go."

  Andrea nodded. While he was reading through some paperwork on his desk, she walked across the room to take a closer look at the train. It was incredibly detailed she thought. Whoever had built this had done it with a great deal of love and passion.

  "You can start the train if you like," Alex said.

  "Oh. No, thanks."

  "You can't break it. It's built for kids."

  "It seems expensive."

  "It is, but it's also meant to be played with. Did you ever play with trains when you were a child?"

  She shook her head. "Never. I grew up with a sister and mother who both thought the only toys appropriate for girls were dolls and play kitchens."

  "Then you've missed out."

  She shrugged. "I wouldn't say that." Although she had wished for more variety when she was younger. She'd been a tomboy at heart.

  Alex walked around his desk and flipped the switch, sending the train on its way. "My favorite story growing up was The Little Engine That Could. I see my life like that train, just chugging away toward the top of the mountain."

  She raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? Your career is more like the flight of a jet airplane than a slow-moving train. You made your first million before age twenty-five and seven years later you're the Man of the Year for World News Today. If that's not moving fast, I don't know what is."

  Alex grinned. "You might have a point. What about you? Are you on a fast jet or a slow train?"

  "Me? At the moment, I'm on a horse going backward."

  Alex burst out laughing, a genuine smile crossing his lips. "You're very candid, aren't you?"

  "Yes. It sometimes gets me into trouble."

  "I'll bet."

  "I hope you'll be just as honest with me. I want to do an in-depth story on you, Alex. I want the world to know the real you—what makes you tick, what you think about, worry about, what your vision is for the future."

  "Your readers don't care about that. They just want to know who I'm dating."

  "Well, I want more."

  "Why did they give you this assignment?" he asked, a curious note in his voice. "I've read some of your work. It's serious and rather intense."

  She was shocked that he'd read her articles and a little skeptical. "Which one did you like the most?" she challenged.

  He gazed back at her. "Probably the one on pesticides in drinking water. It gave me chills. I haven't been able to turn on a faucet without thinking about it."

  "That was one of my best articles," she admitted.

  "So how did you get me?"

  "I got lucky," she said lightly. "And I always put one hundred percent into my work, no matter what the assignment."

  "Will this cover story help you get that horse you're on turned in the right direction?"

  He was definitely a smart man, she thought. She would have to be careful that she didn't allow him to outplay her.

  "Your story will be good for the magazine, which is good for me. And it will be great for you, too. You're releasing a new game soon. More exposure equals more sales, right?"

  "Yes, a win-win for both of us," he said.

  She certainly hoped so.

  * * *

  The Crystal Terrace was just what Andrea had expected. Set on the top floor in a building on Fisherman's Wharf, the dining room had a gorgeous view of the bay including the infamous island prison of Alcatraz and the iconic Golden Gate Bridge. The décor was warm and luxurious with gleaming hardwood floors, floor-to-ceiling windows and amazing crystal chandeliers.

  There wasn't an entrée on the menu under thirty-five dollars, with one steak going for eighty-two dollars. She couldn't imagine what would make a piece of meat worth that much money, but then again, she was more of a cheeseburger-kind-of-girl. Apparently, Alex Donovan was not. He'd shown no hesitancy ordering expensive wine, a sampler of gourmet appetizers and a lobster dish that looked amazing. She'd gone for the filet mignon, figuring she might as well take advantage of the rare opportunity to dine like a celebrity.

  Alex had obviously visited the restaurant on many occasions. The waiters greeted him by name, and he was treated with enormous courtesy and respect. A few other diners stopped by their table to say a quick hello, each giving her a rather curious look. She wasn't surprised by their interest; she doubted she was the kind of woman Alex usually took out to dinner.

  She sipped her wine as Alex finished his meal. So far, their conversation had been fairly inconsequential. She'd learned that Alex liked movies, especially science fiction, ran at least three times a week, enjoyed sports, rooted for the local teams and had played some baseball when he was a kid. She'd also discovered that while his charm came easy, hard answers were more difficult to come by—not that she'd really pressed him yet. She'd wanted to give him time to warm up to her, but he was going to be guarded no matter how much time she gave him.

  "So," she began.

  "So," he echoed, meeting her gaze.

  She smiled. "This doesn't have to be painful."

  "Not for you."

&nbs
p; "Let's talk about your company. How did you get into making games? Were you a big gamer as a child?"

  "Yes. I've always enjoyed games. The more challenging the better. As technology evolved, so has the way the world plays games. We've gone from simple board games to computer games, video games, virtual reality experiences and mobile apps that allow people to play wherever they are. They don't need friends for these games, they can play alone or with anyone in the world in a multi-player digital online game."

  She heard the passion in his voice. There was no doubt that Alex's business was more than just a moneymaker. It was something he believed in. She admired a man who pursued his goals with intensity and determination. Still, he was making games…

  "Wouldn't some people argue that your games encourage children to spend far too many hours inside, hooked up to electronics, when they should be experiencing the real world?" she asked.

  A smile played around his lips. "Would one of those persons be at this table? Do you not like games, Andrea?"

  "I like games," she said defensively. "And you haven't answered my question."

  "I would argue that for many of my customers, games connect them to the world. My team works hard to create games that are educational as well as entertaining."

  "What about the violence in video games?"

  "There's violence in the real world, too, but in games you have control."

  She thought about his words, wondering about the undercurrent in his voice, what he wasn't saying…

  When he didn't continue speaking, she moved on. "How did you get started? I know you were a millionaire by age twenty-five, so I assume your vision started a lot earlier."

  "I started making up games when I was in elementary school. By the time I was a teenager, I had sketched out rough illustrations of multiple worlds. But it was all just a very big and impossible dream back then. I didn't grow up in a world of opportunity, so I had to find my own way into the industry. I started out working in an arcade at a miniature golf course. In between selling tokens and cleaning up after birthday parties, I was doing research. I had access to the database of some of the games. I could see which games were the most popular, the most challenging and who played them. Some were geared more to girls, others to boys. I made notes and files, thinking some day I would use them."