The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ wormed out every succulent detail. Hunter’s shocking accusation. The video with its incontrovertible proof. The outrageous proposal. The call from Gina stating that she was on her way to Switzerland.

      “Your sister is a selfish little bitch,” Alexis pronounced in disgust. “When are you going to stop protecting her?”

      “Never!” Blinking away her tears, Sarah fired back with both barrels. “Gina’s all I have. Gina and Grandmama. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect them.”

      “That’s all well and good, but your sister...”

      “Is my sister.”

      “Okay, okay.” Alexis held up both palms. “She’s your sister. And Devon Hunter’s your fiancé for the next six months. Unless...”

      Her face took on a calculating expression. One Sarah knew all too well. She almost didn’t want to ask, but the faint hope that her boss might see a way out of the mess prompted a tentative query.

      “Unless what?”

      “What if you keep a journal for the next few weeks? Better yet, a photo journal?”

      Deep in thought, Alexis tapped a bloodred nail against her lips. Sarah could almost see the layout taking shape in her boss’s fertile mind.

      “You and Hunter. The whirlwind romance. The surprise proposal. The romantic dinners for two. The long walks in Central Park. Our readers would eat it up.”

      “Forget it, Alexis. I’m not churning out more juicy gossip for our readers.”

      “Why not?”

      The counter came as swift and as deadly as an adder. In full pursuit of a feature now, Alexis dropped into the chair next to Sarah and pressed her point.

      “You and I both know celebrity gossip sells. And this batch comes with great bonus elements. Hunter’s not only rich, but handsome as hell. You’re a smart, savvy career woman with a connection to royalty.”

      “A connection to a royal house that doesn’t exist anymore!”

      “So? We resurrect it. Embellish it. Maybe send a photographer over to shoot some local color from your grandmother’s homeland. Didn’t you say you still had some cousins there?”

      “Three or four times removed, maybe, but Grandmama hasn’t heard from anyone there in decades.”

      “No problem. We’ll make it work.”

      She saw the doubt on Sarah’s face and pressed her point with ruthless determination.

      “If what you give me is as full of glam and romance as I think it could be, it’ll send our circulation through the roof. And that, my sweet, will provide you with enough of a bonus to reimburse Hunter for his lost artifact. And pay off the last of your grandmother’s medical bills. And put a little extra in your bank account for a rainy day or two.”

      The dazzling prospect hung before Sarah’s eyes for a brief, shining moment. She could extricate Gina from her latest mess. Become debt-free for the first time in longer than she could remember. Splurge on some totally unnecessary luxury for the duchess. Buy a new suit instead of retrofitting old classics.

      She came within a breath of promising Alexis all the photos and R-rated copy she could print. Then her irritating sense of fair play raised its head.

      “I can’t do it,” she said after a bitter internal struggle. “Hunter promised he wouldn’t file charges against Gina if I play the role of adoring fiancée. I’ll try to get him to agree to a photo shoot focusing on our—” she stopped, took a breath, continued “—on our engagement. I’m pretty sure he’ll agree to that.”

      Primarily because it would serve his purpose. Once the word hit the street that he was taken, all those women shoving their phone numbers at him would just have to live with their disappointment. So would Alexis.

      “That’s as far as I’ll go,” Sarah said firmly.

      Her boss frowned and was priming her guns for another salvo when her intercom buzzed. Scowling, she stabbed at the instrument on her desk.

      “Didn’t I tell you to hold all calls?”

      “Yes, but...”

      “What part of ‘hold’ don’t you understand?”

      “It’s...”

      “It’s what, dammit?”

      “Number Three,” came the whispered reply. “He’s here.”

       Five

      If Dev hadn’t just run past a gauntlet of snickering females, he might have been amused by the almost identical expressions of surprise on the faces of his fiancée and her boss. But he had, so he wasn’t.

      Alexis Danvers didn’t help matters by looking him up and down with the same scrutiny an auctioneer might give a prize bull. As thin as baling wire, she sized him up with narrowed, calculating eyes before thrusting out a hand tipped with scarlet talons.

      “Mr. Hunter. Good to meet you. Sarah says you and she are engaged.”

      “Wish I could say the same, Ms. Danvers. And yes, we are.”

      He shifted his gaze to Sarah, frowning when he noted her reddened eyes and tearstained cheeks. He didn’t have to search far for the reason behind them. The grainy color photo on Danvers’s desk said it all.

      Hell! Sarah had hinted the crap would hit the fan if some magazine other than hers scooped the story. Looked as if it had just hit. He turned back to the senior editor and vectored the woman’s anger in his direction.

      “I’m guessing you might be a little piqued that Sarah didn’t clue you in to our relationship before it became public knowledge.”

      Danvers dipped her chin in a curt nod. “You guessed right.”

      “I’m also guessing you understand why I wasn’t real anxious for another avalanche of obnoxious publicity.”

      “If you’re referring to the Ten Sexiest Singles article...”

      “I am.”

      “Since you declined to let us interview you for that article, Mr. Hunter, everything we printed was in the public domain. Your military service. That cargo thingamajig you patented. Your corporation’s profits last quarter. Your marital status. All we did was collate the facts, glam them up a little, toss in a few pictures and offer you to an admiring audience.”

      “Any more admiration from that audience and I’ll have to hire a bodyguard.”

      “Or a fiancée?”

      She slipped that in with the precision of a surgeon. Dev had to admire her skill even as he acknowledged the hit.

      “Or a fiancée,” СКАЧАТЬ