God, did he …”
“Yeah.” Bronson gritted his teeth, taking a step back to put some space between them. “He snapped our picture and now he’s probably running back to whatever rag he works for.”
Mia held a hand over her mouth, eyes wide as she stared back at him. “Oh, Bronson, I’m so sorry.”
“Sorry because we kissed or sorry because we got caught?”
She smoothed that dangling strand of hair back. “Is that your way of finding out my feelings about what just happened? I’m not sorry we kissed. Surprised, but not sorry. I am sorry if what just happened ends up in the newspaper and causes more grief for your family in the press, especially with my recent scandal.”
Her concern seemed genuine—but so had her French accent.
Bronson shrugged. “My body blocked your face, so as far as the media’s concerned, you’re a nameless woman.”
But now that he’d had a sample, Bronson wanted the rest of what she had to offer.
Three
Nameless woman.
Mia wished those words from two nights ago still didn’t cut right into her heart, but they did. Is that how Bronson saw her? Was he just kissing her as a prelude to a passing fling? How many women walked away from this Hollywood playboy on weak knees, nursing a broken heart?
God knew hers were still shaking from that toe-curling kiss. But would she just be a statistic when this week was all over? How flattering.
Mia touched up her lip gloss over lips that ached for more of Bronson’s touch and examined herself in the ballroom’s bathroom mirror. The short, deep plum dress with one shoulder bare and the other with a long, flowing sleeve made her feel just as sexy and feminine as the previous dresses.
Night three of the festival was no different than the others … except that she was aching even more for Bronson, and she knew she was every kind of a fool for feeling this way.
She was realistic, though. He may want her physically, but that’s where their relationship ended. That didn’t stop her from daydreaming, and their smoldering kiss certainly hadn’t done a thing to diminish her attraction. Bronson Dane was every woman’s walking fantasy, and her hormones were no different than those of any other female who’d had the fortunate opportunity to be close to the Hollywood powerhouse.
Mia smoothed a hand over her belly, trying to calm her jumbled nerves. Only a few more days and they would be back in Hollywood, and Bronson would be off to meetings about his next movie prospect.
She’d watched him charm actresses and build up actors’ egos, though Mia knew it was just for leverage if he wanted them in a film one day. Hollywood was all about getting everything you wanted, no matter who you had to play to get it. And Bronson played the game like a pro.
But she doubted he needed to do all the charming. Bronson Dane was a force to be reckoned with in the industry. Turning down a chance to work with him would be an idiotic career move for anyone.
Mia smiled at an elderly woman and exited the bathroom. Just as she turned at the end of the hallway, she ran into Anthony Price.
“Mia.” He pulled her into his strong arms for a friendly hug. “I thought I saw you the other night, but discounted the idea. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
She jerked back. “You can’t do that. What if someone had taken a picture?” What if Bronson had seen them?
Anthony glanced around. “Paparazzi aren’t allowed in here, but I do apologize. I was just shocked and happy to see you. Are you here with Olivia?”
Mia smiled at her previous employer. “And Bronson.”
Anthony’s smile dimmed. “Really. Do they—”
“I haven’t said a word, Anthony.” She knew he was nervous about opening a nearly forty-year-old secret and potentially ruining lives—she didn’t blame him. “I told you I wouldn’t reveal the secret and I keep my word.”
“I know you do.” He sighed. “I just haven’t figured out how to handle this. I mean, after all these years, lives will be changed forever. Not only that, but with my situation at home …”
Glancing behind her, Mia offered a smile. “I know. I’m here for you any time you need me. Don’t think because I’m not working for you that I’m not available to talk.”
“I appreciate that, Mia.” Anthony smiled. “I’m still trying to figure out why I let you go.”
“Because your marriage is more important than your assistant,” she reminded him. “You’ll be just fine, Anthony. You both need some time. But I should get back to the party before Bronson starts looking for me or someone sees us. It certainly won’t help your case.”
“You’re right. I can’t afford to lose Charlotte. But it was so good to see you again.”
“Perfect timing.”
Mia jerked around at Bronson’s deep voice. “Bronson.”
“Don’t let me interrupt,” he told her, his gaze on Anthony. “I was wondering if you were okay, but now I see you are.”
Why did she feel like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have? Damn. Could she not talk to a close friend without someone assuming something more sinister was going on?
Mia was smack dab in the middle of two of the most powerful men she knew. The air around them crackled with tension. Now that she could see them both up close, she studied their faces.
Yes, the resemblance was there. Subtle, but it was there.
Ironic that biological half brothers, raised in two separate families, could both grow up to be Hollywood moguls and totally despise each other.
“I didn’t realize Mia was your date,” Anthony told Bronson. “You’re a lucky man.”
Bronson’s gaze narrowed. “Yes.”
Mia couldn’t handle the awkward silence. God, if she was this uncomfortable, she couldn’t imagine how Anthony felt, having known the truth for the past six months.
When Anthony chose to reveal the secret to Olivia, he’d told Mia he would not cause a big scene and make more scandal than necessary. Even though he and Bronson despised each other, Anthony had always expressed his respect and admiration for the Grand Dane and wouldn’t do anything to purposely hurt her. Though he would confront her, eventually. He had a lot of questions for her.
Well, Mia knew one thing. She didn’t want these two together any longer. All they needed to do was have an argument about anything at all and news of it would be sent to every media outlet within moments—complete with pictures that would fuel the press even more.
She moved over to Bronson, placing a hand on his arm. “You ready? I could use some champagne.”
The muscle in Bronson’s jaw ticked. Mia gave a subtle tug on his arm.
