Courting Danger. Kimberly Dean
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Yet in many ways she had – and he’d known it.
He’d evaded her at every turn. He’d always had an explanation. She was furious at having been played, but when she thought of the things that might have happened, going out with a stranger like that…
But she hadn’t been afraid of him.
She thought of the kiss they’d shared, and she burned her lip on her coffee.
‘Have you decided?’
‘Mmm.’ She pressed a napkin to her mouth and glanced at the waitress who’d come to take her order. No, she hadn’t made up her mind about him at all. ‘A cinnamon roll, please.’
After last night’s dinner, she shouldn’t have room for anything, but her sweet tooth acted up whenever her nerves did.
She’d kissed him, and she’d liked it. A lot. He was a mystery man. An enigma. The memory of that hot kiss should frighten her, but it had been real.
‘That’s the truth,’ he’d said to her. ‘Remember that.’
He’d known his cover was blown.
‘Here you go, hon.’ The cinnamon roll was spilling over with cream cheese frosting. Rielle swooped up a taste with her fingertip. It would mean extra time in the gym, but it was worth it.
She opened the newspaper she’d bought at the newsstand a few blocks down and skimmed the headlines. She didn’t know what she was looking for, but maybe something could help her put the pieces together. She didn’t like the possibilities running through her head. Politics, foreign relations, computer hacking, identity theft…She didn’t want to get involved with any of that.
Yet she couldn’t get the feel of his strong body out of her head. The sensation of his hand against her lower back. Her dress tangling with his legs…
The front page had news of the visit by the Prince and Princess of Sweden. It delved into the relationship between the countries and areas where they shared interests: protecting the environment, guarding against terrorism, and increasing trade. She took another bite of her cinnamon roll and it nearly stuck in her throat when she turned to the society page.
They had black and white photographs from the event, including one with her and Mel…her date …arriving outside the White House.
Her coffee cup tinkled against the saucer as she quickly set it down.
She’d been uneasy ever since last night, yet one glance at the photograph sent a shot of fear through her heart.
Her head jerked as she looked around the restaurant. She pulled her coat up around her shoulders and slid the newspaper closer to the window where the light was brighter.
Her date had turned away from the camera, but the picture showed off his tall form in a midnight-black tuxedo. He was close to blocking the view of her, too, with his head dipped down towards her. Instead of blocking their view, though, the photo gave the illusion that they were about to kiss.
She had her face lifted to him. Excitement was clear in her eyes. Happiness exuded from her smile. They looked like a power couple leading a magical life of parties and dancing and money.
‘Oh, no,’ she whispered.
It was a beautiful shot that told the wrong story. It was a moment in time that would capture people’s imagination and their attention.
She didn’t want the attention.
She folded the paper quickly when the waitress walked by her booth again. Inside her chest, her heart was pounding like a big bass drum. She jammed her arms into the sleeves of her jacket, left money on the table to cover the bill and hurried out into the cold. It caught her smack in the face, and she tucked her chin into her throat. Her gaze darted everywhere – the doorways, the cars along the kerb, the alley that she had to pass…
A picture in the newspaper was bad, but were there more online? Was it searchable?
Her heels beat a tattoo against the sidewalk as she hurried to Luxxor. She’d thought things had been bad last night.
But this was so much worse.
‘Bad day?’ Sienna asked.
Rielle sighed and rubbed a sore spot on her neck. ‘You have no idea.’
She’d had a lot of escorts heading out, now that Friday was here. They all seemed to have seen the picture and were commenting on her hot ‘boyfriend’. They’d kept asking his name, where they’d met and why she’d been hiding him.
Like she was a nun or something.
She hadn’t confessed that she’d only met him last night, and that she’d only gone on the date because none of them had been available. Or the right gender.
Sienna rested her hip against her desk. With her legs sleek and crossed, she looked ready for a magazine spread. ‘If it’s any consolation, you looked stunning.’
Sienna and Nina were the only ones who knew the full truth. The man in the photo wasn’t her boyfriend and he wasn’t a client. She didn’t even know his name.
‘Thanks, but now my photograph is plastered all over the society page of a major newspaper.’
‘Newspaper subscriptions have been plummeting.’ Sienna smiled weakly, but she knew she wasn’t helping.
Rielle finally gave up trying to search through their database for Mel’s picture. She braced her elbows against the desk and rubbed her temples. Her tension was resulting in knots that ached. ‘That photo is online, too.’
The photographer hadn’t gotten her name, thank God. She glanced at the database. Nobody could search for her either.
But they could open a newspaper and chance upon seeing her.
She stared at the photo. She’d had the newspaper on her desk all day. Sienna turned it in her direction to study it. ‘Do you think your guy knew the cameras were there? Is that why they didn’t get a good shot of him?’
‘He knew.’
Sienna ran a burgundy-coloured fingernail along the edge of the photo and Mel’s back. ‘I could wring his neck for the way he lied to you, but Nina said the date itself went well?’
Rielle glanced up in surprise, and Sienna lifted an eyebrow.
Rielle got up to straighten the magazines on the lobby table.
‘There’s a rumour about a hot kiss?’ her coworker said. ‘A melt-the-sidewalk kind?’
Rielle determinedly walked to the office door and locked it. Yet her shoulders slumped. She turned slowly. If anyone would understand, it was Sienna. Before she’d become their communications director, she’d fallen in love with the man she’d been assigned to escort.
‘That’s the part that’s so