Engaging Alex
Engaging Alex
Kristin Gabriel
One year after being left at the altar, Paige Hanover has a new wardrobe, a new apartment and a new attitude. She's going to take another chance on love…but the last man she expects to want that chance is her long-lost fiancé, Alex Mack. He's claiming that it was all a mistake, that he never stopped loving her. But Paige isn't about to be fooled again. Armed with the "man-magnet" skirt, she intends to break his heart this time. Only, she doesn't know that the skirt's powerful attraction can work both ways.…
She’d fallen in love with a jerk
A handsome, sexy, charming jerk, but a jerk all the same. Paige blamed herself for indulging in a whirlwind romance. For agreeing to marry a man she’d known for barely a month. For letting him break her heart.
She blamed Alex for everything else, though. The cowardly way he’d run off before the wedding. All the silly hype that had followed. But most of all, she blamed him for the way he’d made her doubt herself.
So it was time to put him in the past, once and for all. Carefully pulling her chain over her head, Paige undid the clasp and a diamond ring fell into her palm. The platinum band glistened in the waning sunlight. She closed her fist around it…then hurled it over the balcony. “Goodbye, Alex.”
She leaned over the railing to watch the ring fly through the air. It bounced down the sidewalk several feet before she finally lost sight of it.
Gone forever. Just like Alex. A perfect ending to what she’d once believed was a perfect love.
Paige headed for the door, ready to step into her new life…and saw Alex Mack standing on the other side.
“Hi, honey,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I’m home.”
Dear Reader,
Most women have had one, at one time or another—an unforgettable love affair with a sexy, irresistible guy who steals their heart…and then steals away. But what would you do if that man came back? Would you let him in, or would you barricade the door?
Paige Hanover not only remembers the man who left her at the altar, she’s ready for him when he makes the mistake of coming back. She wants revenge on Alex Mackopoulos for romancing her under false pretenses—and under a phony name! Alex says he’s willing to do almost anything to make her love him again. Anything…except tell her the truth.
I hope you enjoy Alex and Paige’s story. It’s set in San Francisco, which was voted one of the sexiest cities in America on the SINGLE IN THE CITY Web site. You can find even more information about this popular Temptation miniseries at www.singleinthecity.org. And be sure to watch for Cara Summers’s Flirting with Temptation, the final SINGLE IN THE CITY book, available next month.
All my best,
Kristin Gabriel
The SINGLE IN THE CITY miniseries
860—MOONSTRUCK IN MANHATTAN—Cara Summers
864—TEMPTED IN TEXAS—Heather MacAllister
868—SEDUCED IN SEATTLE—Kristin Gabriel
892—SKIRTING THE ISSUE—Heather MacAllister
896—SHEERLY IRRESISTIBLE—Kristin Gabriel
900—SHORT, SWEET AND SEXY—Cara Summers
928—MALE CALL—Heather MacAllister
932—ENGAGING ALEX—Kristin Gabriel
936—FLIRTING WITH TEMPTATION—Cara Summers
SINGLE IN SAN FRANCISCO—Cara Summers, an eHarlequin online read
Engaging Alex
Kristin Gabriel
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Ann Auten—thanks for the party!
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u8efebd96-41d7-50cd-bd63-ef5a228e5032)
Chapter 2 (#u4ad43abd-74e8-50f0-9a53-e8a17bf58644)
Chapter 3 (#u8cb78a0e-29ff-5f61-b38b-437246a3a4d2)
Chapter 4 (#uf8968fb8-b1b9-5331-8b32-10684046cb0d)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
1
PAIGE HANOVER realized too late that she should have worn black sackcloth to celebrate her first wedding anniversary. Although it wasn’t technically her anniversary. After all, her fiancé, Alex Mack, had left her high and dry before the ceremony exactly one year ago today.
Now as she stood in the rain looking up at the old Victorian house that had been renovated into a four-unit apartment building, Paige could feel her new red leather pants literally shrinking onto her legs. Already skintight when dry, the pants would probably shut off her blood circulation before long.
She stepped forward to rap on the solid front door again, then peered through the ornate glass sidelight. A doorman sat with his back to her, totally engrossed in a television program on the small set in front of him. She could collapse from lack of blood flow to the brain and he probably wouldn’t even notice her on the doorstep for hours. Not that Paige needed a man to rescue her—not anymore.
Twisting the antique brass knob in her hand, she was surprised to hear it click open. Paige stepped into the foyer, dripping rainwater onto the clean tile floor. The doorman didn’t even flinch at her arrival. His gaze was firmly fixed on the screen that flickered in the gloomy light.
So the place wasn’t exactly a bastion of security. Paige didn’t plan to stay long anyway. But when she saw the program he was watching on television, she almost considered running back out into the downpour and forgetting this whole crazy idea.
She saw herself on the screen trying to escape a tenacious reporter who kept thrusting a microphone under her chin as she tried to hurry down the narrow sidewalk.
“Do you believe in UFO abductions?”
“No,” she said tersely, her eyes straight-ahead as she walked.
“Then how can you explain your fiancé’s sudden disappearance on the day of your wedding? Or the fact that his whereabouts are unknown?”
“No comment,” she clipped, before hastily ducking into a doorway.
The male reporter turned to the camera and spoke in a solemn tone. “One year ago today, this San Francisco woman woke up on her wedding day to discover that her fiancé had mysteriously disappeared. In our special edition of UFO Watch, we will hear why her mother believes aliens may be involved. And discuss why this left-behind bride is afraid to talk. Is the government responsible for silencing her? Or is it simply fear of the aliens that may have absconded with the love of her life?”
The reporter cleared his throat. “This is Cleo Dimont asking you to stay tuned and to always keep an eye on the sky.”
The doorman shook his head as the program went to commercial. “Amazing.”
“Pathetic,” Paige countered, feathering her fingers through her short curls.
The doorman jumped at the sound of her voice, whirling around as he clutched his slim hand to his chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a person like that! Especially a person watching a show about alien abductions.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I wasn’t scared,” he countered. “I have black belts in karate and judo. You could have been seriously injured.”
“Too bad you weren’t around when that UFO Watch reporter pounced on me outside my house last week.”
The doorman blinked, looked at the television, then back at Paige. “I don’t believe it! You’re her. You’re the Left-Behind Bride!”
She clenched her teeth at the moniker the show had given her. Not that many people watched it among the hundreds of other local cable shows available. Still, she didn’t like having her private life beamed down from a satellite in the sky for public viewing.
That’s what she called alien abduction.
“My fiancé was not abducted by a UFO,” Paige told the doorman, a story she’d repeated too many times to remember. “He just got cold feet. But that’s not what the reporter wanted to hear.”
The doorman nodded in sympathy. “Reporters can be pests. At least he was cute.”
Paige hadn’t noticed. She’d spent the last year avoiding any man who looked in her direction. But that was about to change. No more hiding from life. From love. It was time to forget about Alex Mack once and for all. To say a final goodbye to the happily ever after fantasy that she’d clung to for far too long.
That’s why she was here tonight.
“I’m looking for Franco Rossi,” she said, aware that a small puddle had formed on the floor around her.
The doorman grinned. “That’s me. You must be here about the apartment.”
Paige nodded, setting down the grocery bag she’d been holding. “I’m Paige Hanover. We spoke yesterday on the telephone.” She didn’t tell him she’d called as soon as she’d seen the For Rent sign in the apartment window.
The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Her mother had called it cosmic fate, though Paige tried not to encourage Margo Weaver’s increasing fascination with extraterrestrial life. It had gotten worse since Paige’s stepfather had disappeared from the Weaver home a year and a half ago. Even Paige had to admit his middle-of-the-night vanishing act was strange. Almost tailor-made for a show like UFO Watch.
Like mother, like daughter.
Only Paige didn’t believe in UFOs, alien abductions, little green men or any of that other nonsense. She cringed at sensationalistic shows like UFO Watch, hating the fact that she was now one of their subjects.
Paige simply believed that she’d picked the wrong man, just like her mother. But that didn’t mean they should give up. Or cling to some ridiculous theory about aliens abducting the men they loved. It was time to face reality.
That’s why she was here tonight. To prove to herself and to her mother that it was a mistake to hold on to the past. Renting this apartment was her first step toward moving into the future.
Even the unusual lease fit Paige’s purpose. It was a time-share, allowing her to use the apartment just two days out of the week—Friday and Saturday. She’d paid the required minimum of one month’s rent, though she’d have no reason to return after tonight. She would consider the extra expense well-spent if it would get Alex Mack out of her head—and her heart—once and for all.
“The place is already furnished,” Franco said, “courtesy of my ex-boyfriend, Marlon. He owns prime real estate all over the country. I lived with him in New York City until we broke up, then I won this apartment in a landmark palimony suit and moved to San Francisco.”
Paige looked around the foyer. “Was working as the building’s doorman part of the agreement?”
Franco smiled. “It’s more of a volunteer position. I’m writing my first screenplay and I thought this would be a great opportunity to meet a lot of different people for character sketches. People like you.”
“So you don’t actually live here?” Paige asked, still somewhat confused.
Franco leaned closer and whispered. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve turned the janitor’s room in the basement into my own little home away from home. It’s absolutely horrid, but writers are supposed to suffer for their craft. And the money I collect from leasing the apartment will help me produce my screenplay.”
At least her rent payment was going to a worthwhile cause. “Well, good luck.”
“Thanks.” Franco reached into his pocket. “Here’s the key to the apartment. You have to furnish your own linens, as I told you on the phone. But you’re welcome to use any of the CDs in the stereo. I highly recommend the Wizard of Oz soundtrack. You just can’t beat Judy Garland.”
Paige nodded as she took the key, not bothering to tell him that she’d brought a CD of her own. One that fit the occasion perfectly.
Franco crossed his arms across his narrow chest as he looked her up and down. “You look a lot different than you did on television.”
“I cut my hair.” She reached up to touch the damp fringe at her neck. The stylist had tried to talk her out of cutting her waist-length hair, but Paige was determined to make some changes in her life. Big changes.
Franco nodded with approval. “It looks good. Great outfit, too.”
Paige glanced down at her red halter top and matching leather pants, still unable to believe she’d bought something this outrageous—much less put it on. Thanks to the rain, she just hoped she could get it off.
“The forecast was sunny and warm when I left home this morning,” she explained, though she usually didn’t forget her umbrella. She’d obviously had too many other things on her mind today.
“I hope it’s not ruined,” Franco commiserated, his gaze on her leather pants. “You should probably take them off and lay them out to dry.” He opened a closet door behind him and reached inside. “Here, you can borrow this to wear in the meantime.”
She saw him pull out a hanger with a black skirt hanging from it. “Thanks, but I couldn’t possibly—”
“Please take it,” Franco insisted, shoving it into her hands. “I don’t want you sitting on my furniture in wet pants. Besides, it’s a great skirt.” He glanced down at the bottle of wine in her bag. “Men love it.”
Paige transferred the hanger to her other hand, then picked up the bag off the floor and headed for the staircase. “Thanks for lending me the skirt. I owe you.”
“Believe me, it’s my pleasure,” Franco called after her. “Apartment 2B is on the left at the top of the stairs. I’ll be happy to show you the way.”
“That’s all right,” she assured him, taking a deep breath as she started up the steps. “I already know it.”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Paige had her leather pants off and the borrowed black skirt on, somewhat surprised at how well it fit. She thought it a little strange that the doorman would have a spare skirt in the closet, but everything about Franco seemed a little strange.
Peeling those shrunken leather pants off had been an arduous process, but definitely worth it. The silky fabric of the short skirt whispered against her bare thighs and made her want to sway to the Frank Sinatra song playing on the stereo. The song Alex used to sing in her ear when they danced. At least hearing it didn’t make her cry anymore.
The rain had finally abated, so Paige opened the balcony doors to let some fresh air into the stale apartment. It was located at the back of the old Victorian. She stepped out onto the balcony to see the row of Painted Ladies, the nickname given to Victorian houses adorned with several shades of coordinating paint, across the street. Many of the houses were in various stages of renovation.
She could smell a hint of the ocean as the breeze picked up. Turning back into the apartment, her gaze moved slowly over the table she’d set so meticulously.
There were two plates with chocolate éclairs on them, the dessert she and Alex had shared on their first date. A bottle of premium champagne chilling in an ice bucket, the same brand Alex had purchased the day of their engagement. A dried arrangement of white gardenias and stephanotis in the center of the table—her wedding bouquet.
A ripple of apprehension fluttered through her. This was a big step in her life. Paige had spent the past year preparing herself for this moment. Telling herself that it was time to move on. But was she really ready to forget about Alex—forever?
Yes.
She took a determined step toward the table and picked up the folded sheet of paper lying there. Alex’s marriage proposal—sent via e-mail over a year ago. Paige had been stunned when she’d opened it. Hadn’t really believed it until she’d printed it out in black and white. Now her gaze flew over the words she’d memorized long ago. Words that were imprinted on her heart.
Paige,
We’ve only known each other a few weeks, but I think I fell in love with you the moment we met. Say you’ll marry me and be mine forever.
Alex
She took a deep breath, then held the paper over the candle, letting the flame lick at the edges until it caught. The corner of the paper turned black and began curling toward her palm. She dropped it in a crystal bowl and watched it burn until it was nothing but ashes.
Then she picked up the imported champagne bottle and poured both flutes full of the sparkling wine. “Here’s to you, Alex Mack.” She raised one glass high in the air. “May you rot in hell.”
Paige caught her reflection in the antique wall mirror, still surprised by the woman she saw there. Her thick brown hair was now short and sassy, tapered at her neck and streaked with auburn highlights.
She’d gone on a shopping spree, too, buying outfits like the slinky halter top and matching red leather pants she’d worn here tonight. No more shapeless linen shifts and boring pantsuits for the new Paige Hanover.
It was time for a fresh start, symbolized by the anemone tattoo on her ankle. In the language of flowers, anemones stood for anticipation. Paige had grown up with flowers, working in her paternal grandfather’s flower shop, Bay Bouquets, then inheriting it from him after his death five years ago.
Now she designed custom floral arrangements for the homes and businesses of some of the wealthiest citizens of San Francisco. Her mother ran the front of the store and her stepfather had made all the deliveries until his sudden disappearance eighteen months ago.
Bay Bouquets was definitely a family affair, but maybe it was time to expand. Once she put Alex behind her, she could concentrate fully on her business. Maybe even look into starting a franchise.
But first things first.
Paige walked over to the stereo and ejected the Sinatra CD, then stepped out onto the balcony. Lights shone in the houses around her and she knew families were sitting down to dinner together. Couples were telling each other about their day. She’d dreamed of doing the same with Alex in this very apartment.
A dream that had been hard to let go—until tonight.
Holding the CD in her hand like a Frisbee, she flipped her wrist and sent it spinning into the night. “Goodbye, Frank.”
Then her hand went to the engagement ring she kept on a chain around her neck. She’d worn it next to her heart for the past year. An exquisite half-carat diamond that had been a symbol of Alex’s commitment—until her handsome fiancé had disappeared without any explanation.
Her throat tightened, remembering the thrill that had soared through her when Alex had pulled the ring from his shirt pocket and presented it to her. The shy, almost embarrassed way he’d slipped it on her finger.
Paige had kissed him then, so full of passion for him that it had scorched her down to her very soul. Alex had lost all of his shyness, pulling her tightly against him and ravishing her lips with his mouth. She breathed a deep, wistful sigh, remembering the moment and the desire she could have sworn she’d seen in his eyes.
Paige had believed that they would finally consummate their relationship that night…but had only been disappointed once again.
Alex had wanted to wait until their wedding night. Had murmured something about wanting to make it special between them. She’d actually thought it rather sweet at the time—as well as a little frustrating.
Now she knew it had been a sign.
A bad sign. Alex hadn’t wanted her after all. Something…something about her had made him change his mind. He hadn’t even bothered to explain the reason in the note he’d left, which had contained only two words: Sorry, Alex. She’d spent months going over every moment they’d spent together, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong.
After months of torturous soul-searching and endless phone conversations with her friends analyzing every angle of the relationship, Paige had finally figured it out. She’d fallen in love with a jerk.
A handsome, sexy, charming jerk, but a jerk all the same. Paige blamed herself for indulging in a whirlwind romance. For agreeing to marry a man she’d known for barely a month. For letting him break her heart.
She blamed Alex for everything else. The cowardly way he ran off before the wedding. All the silly UFO hype that had followed. But most of all, she blamed him for the way he’d made her doubt herself.
So it was time to put him in the past once and for all. After tonight she’d never think about or cry over Alex again. Maybe her mother would even follow her example, though Paige didn’t hold out much hope.
Margo Weaver didn’t handle loss well. She’d had a mental breakdown twelve years ago when Paige’s father had been killed in a car accident, refusing to accept his death. Just like she was refusing to accept the fact that her second husband wasn’t coming back. Margo was certain Stanley would return to her some day—as soon as the aliens let him go.
Paige didn’t want to end up like her mother—clinging to a crazy fantasy instead of accepting reality. Carefully pulling the chain over her head, she undid the clasp and the diamond ring fell into her palm. The platinum band glistened in the waning sunlight. She closed her fist around it, then hurled it over the balcony. “Goodbye, Alex.”
She leaned over the railing to watch the ring fly through the air. It bounced down the sidewalk several feet before she finally lost sight of it.
Gone forever. Just like Alex.
A perfect ending to what she’d once believed was a perfect love.
Paige straightened and turned, her heart lighter than it had been for a long time. She walked over to the table, blew out the candles, then dumped the éclairs into the trash. She intended to leave all the rest behind—the dishes, the candlesticks, the champagne. A thank-you to Franco for lending her the skirt for the evening. She had no reason to ever return to this apartment.
Paige opened the door, ready to step into her new life.
And saw Alex Mack standing on the other side.
She grabbed the doorjamb to keep from falling over, his sexy smile still able to make her heart bounce in her chest.
Then he said, “Hi, honey. I’m home.”
2
ALEX KNEW he’d said the wrong thing as soon as the words came tumbling out of his mouth. His communication skills had obviously suffered from lack of exercise in the last year. That’s what happened when you found yourself confined to a ten-by-ten cell twenty hours out of every day for twelve straight months.
He was lucky he could speak at all with Paige standing there in front of him after all this time. A Paige he almost didn’t recognize.
She’d cut her beautiful long hair. Ditched her classic conservative clothes for a red halter top and a short black skirt that made him stare at her legs for far too long. Then his gaze fell lower and he saw the fire-red polish on her toenails. He blinked and looked down toward her feet again. Was that a tattoo on her ankle?
His gaze moved slowly up her lush body as his tongue struggled for something intelligent to say. She looked incredible. He’d dreamed of this moment every day for the past year. Dreamed of her. Now he stood here gaping at her like an idiot, wanting to tell her how much he’d missed her. How much he wanted to hold her again and never let her go.
But before he could say a word, Paige made her own feelings perfectly clear. She slammed the door in his face.
Alex stood staring at the solid oak in shocked disbelief. The old Paige would have given him a chance to explain. She would have listened quietly to his side of the story and tried to understand. This new Paige, judging by the homicidal sparks he’d just seen in her big blue eyes, wasn’t interested in his explanation.
Tough.
Alex put up his fist and pounded hard on the door. He hadn’t come this far—or given up this much—to turn back now. “Paige, let me in.”
“Go away!”
“We need to talk.”
“You’re three hundred and sixty-five days too late!”
He reached for the knob. “Open this door.”
“I’m warning you, Alex,” she shouted from the other side. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Alex wiggled the doorknob but it stayed firmly locked. “And I’m warning you. If you don’t open this door by the time I count to three, I’m going to knock it down.”
Silence. The door didn’t budge.
“One.” he called out, certain she’d open it before he got to three. Paige was a reasonable person. She wouldn’t call his bluff.
“Two.” Then again, he hadn’t seen her for a year. Maybe she’d changed on the inside as well as on the outside. He backed up a step, trying to gauge the thickness of the wood. He’d never actually knocked a door down before, though it always seemed easy enough in the movies. He backed up another couple of steps.
“Three!”
Alex lowered his shoulder and barreled forward at the same moment the door swung open. Paige sidestepped out of his way to avoid a collision. Alex wasn’t quite so lucky. He flew inside the room and careened into a table. The dishes and candlesticks on it went flying, crashing onto the floor. Like Alex.
For a moment he just lay there, trying to remain conscious after banging the back of his head on a chair. Shards of china and glass surrounded him. Something wet seeped through the back of his shirt.
At last he looked up to see Paige gazing down at him. “Guess you called my bluff.”
“Now it looks like I should call an ambulance.”
He shifted on the floor, wincing slightly at a sharp pain in his right shoulder. “You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “So what do I have to do to get you to leave? Set another wedding date?”
“Look, Paige…” Alex got up on one knee, then grew so dizzy he had to grab the leg of an overturned chair.
Paige reached out one hand to steady his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Was that concern he heard in her voice? It gave him hope and enough encouragement to rise unsteadily to his feet. “I think so.”
“Too bad.”
So much for her concern. The momentary dizziness passed and he wiped his hand across the sticky wetness on the back of his shirt. “What’s this?”
“Champagne. Dom Pérignon, 1992. A very good year.”
Too late Alex realized that Paige must be expecting someone. He’d glimpsed the intimate table setting for two just before he’d crashed into it. The candles. The champagne. Hell.
She was expecting a man.
Jealousy washed over him like a tidal wave. Just the thought of another man touching Paige made him want to grab her in his arms and stake his claim. Alex took a deep breath, then another, a little stunned by his visceral reaction to the fact that she was dating. Had he really expected her to wait for him? Especially when he’d given her no indication that he was coming back?
Yes.
His faith in Paige’s love had made it possible to endure the hell of the last year. He’d assumed she’d be angry. Hurt. Confused. But he’d never even considered the possibility that she’d move on to another man.
Which proved that he truly was an idiot. She was gorgeous. Then again, she’d always been beautiful to him. But now she was different. The shy, reserved Paige of his memory was gone. The woman before him now was full of fire. A kitten who had morphed into a hellcat.
But she was his hellcat. Alex would make that fact perfectly clear to any man who happened to walk through the door.
Paige took a step toward him, her brow furrowed. “You’re bleeding.”
He followed her gaze to the front of his gray T-shirt and saw a small red stain spreading in a circle on his chest. No doubt he’d landed on one of the slivers of glass on the floor.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he said wryly. “It’s probably not serious.”
She met his gaze. “You might need stitches.”
Pulling his T-shirt over his head, he wadded it up into a ball then dabbed away the blood on his chest. “See? Nothing serious. You can barely see the cut.”
She wrenched her gaze up from his chest and cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed. “Good. Okay, well, you can leave now.”
He tossed the shirt aside. “You’re awfully eager to get rid of me. Afraid your date won’t like finding another man here alone with you?”
She blinked. “My what?” Then her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, how did you know where to find me?”
“This is where you live,” he replied, confused by her question. He probably had a concussion.
She shook her head. “Not anymore. I sold this apartment eleven months ago.”
Alex couldn’t believe it. She had fallen in love with this old place the moment she’d set eyes on it. He remembered the way she’d danced around the apartment when she’d given him a tour after making the down payment, almost giddy with excitement. The way she’d wanted to turn it into the perfect newlywed nest—a place for just the two of them.
But most of all, he remembered the hot kiss she’d given him on the balcony. The lushness of her body pressed into his own. Her soft whispers of love in his ear.
He sucked in a deep breath, the ache of those memories slicing deeper than the superficial cut on his chest. He’d been fooling himself that they’d be able to resume where they’d left off after he explained everything.
Well, not everything.
He planned to tell her just enough to make her understand. Enough to keep her from asking more questions—questions he couldn’t answer. But now he sensed it wasn’t going to be that easy.
That didn’t stop him from asking a question of his own. “If you sold the apartment, why are you here now?”
“That’s really none of your business.”
Jealousy flared up in him once more. Was she living with another man? He looked around the room. “This doesn’t look like your furniture.”
“You’re right, it’s not,” she replied, with no further explanation.
“So what is it doing here? What are you doing here, Paige?”
She picked up one of the chairs and set it upright on the floor. “If you must know, I’m leasing the place on a time-share basis—weekends only. I thought it would give me a chance to get away from everything.”
That did make sense. He’d met her mother. But his instincts told him there was still something she wasn’t telling him. A year ago, Alex would have pushed her for a clearer answer. Digging deeper. Always digging. Paige had mentioned once that she liked the way he always listened to her. She hadn’t realized that was his job.
Paige’s voice cut through his reverie. “So why are you here?”
“Because I want to explain why I left.”
“Don’t bother. There’s absolutely nothing you can say that will change anything.”
“Maybe not. But I’ll feel better.”
She arched a finely winged brow. “This may come as a shock, Alex, but making you feel better isn’t high on my list of priorities.”
She was bitter. He couldn’t blame her. But Paige deserved to know the truth. Needed to know the truth. At least, some of it.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he blurted, realizing too late he should have rehearsed what he was going to say to her. He’d certainly had long enough to do it. “Everything just got out of control.”
“You should have told me you were having second thoughts,” she said haltingly. “Instead, you just…left.”
“Under the circumstances, I thought that would be for the best.”
“Best for you, maybe. You didn’t have to announce to everybody that the wedding was off. You didn’t have to deal with the caterer or the reception hall or the band. You didn’t have to pretend your heart wasn’t broken….” She sucked in a deep breath, then tipped up her chin. “Don’t you see, Alex? You did more than dump me. You humiliated me.”
Her words hit him low in the gut. Wrenching. Twisting. He braced himself against the pain, knowing it was only going to get worse before the night was over. He glanced at the door, tempted to walk out. To let her think he’d just suffered a case of cold feet.
But that wasn’t the case. He’d waited a year for this moment. Marking off every day on the calendar until he could tell her what was in his heart.
Alex didn’t plan to waste another second. “I’m sorry about everything you went through, Paige. But I have to make one thing perfectly clear.”
“What?” she asked.
“I never asked you to marry me.”
PAIGE STARED AT HIM, wondering if the collision with the floor had affected his brain. “That’s not true. I still have the proposal you e-mailed me.” She looked at the gray ashes scattered on the messy floor. “At least I had it until a few minutes ago.”
“I agree you received a proposal,” Alex said slowly, “but it wasn’t from me.”
Paige reached blindly behind her for a chair and sat down. Maybe it was the champagne or the shock of seeing Alex again or the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, but for some reason her knees felt a little wobbly.
“Are you just trying to torture me?” she asked. “I’m finally over you, Alex. The last thing I need is for you to come barging back into my life, causing more chaos. So I suggest you leave. Now. For both our sakes.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Just hear me out first.”
Nobody could say she hadn’t warned him. “Okay, fine. Tell your story.”
Alex pulled up another chair beside her, straddling the back of it in one easy motion. She couldn’t help but notice the ripple of taut muscle over his chest and belly. He was slimmer than he’d been a year ago. Fitter. Maybe the time away from her had been good for him. Maybe Franco had a shirt he could borrow.
When Paige met his gaze again, she couldn’t help but feel that Alex was a virtual stranger. Those wonderful few weeks of their whirlwind courtship almost seemed like a blur now. A crazy dream. Had she really agreed to marry this man?
“Promise me you’ll hear me out,” Alex said. “No matter what I say, you won’t leave or try to kick me out until I’m done.”
Her stomach twisted. It must really be bad. Was there another woman? Was he married? Was he an alien? Paige shook those unsettling thoughts from her head. She’d been spending too much time with her mother. “Okay, I promise.”
He hesitated, as if not sure how to begin. “Our first meeting was a setup, Paige. I was supposed to bump into you that day on the wharf. I was supposed to make you fall in love with me.”
Her mind flashed back to that fateful day on Fisherman’s Wharf, a place she loved despite all the tourist trappings. She spent almost every Sunday there if the weather was decent. It had been sunny the day she’d met Alex, if a little cool. She’d worn a khaki jacket. Alex had spilled raspberry iced tea on it when he’d bumped into her.
Now he was here telling her that had all been staged. All part of some scheme. Which left her with one simple question. “Why?”
“Because I was assigned to find information about your missing stepfather. We didn’t buy the story about his abduction by a UFO. We thought you and your mother were hiding the truth. So if I got close to you…”
“You could find out what really happened,” Paige breathed. It was all starting to make horrible sense to her now. The police had been called after her stepfather’s disappearance but they’d been highly skeptical of Margo’s UFO explanation. Even speculating that her mother might have something do with Stanley’s disappearance.
They’d obviously decided to send in one of their own to determine if there had been foul play. And what better way to get to the mother than through the daughter?
It also explained why Alex had never shared much about himself or his family. The fact that she’d never been to his home—or even knew his address. The way he’d listen so patiently when she talked on and on. The fact that he never complained about spending time with her kooky mother. She’d watched enough shows about undercover cops to know that’s how they operated.
No wonder she’d thought of him as a stranger just now. He was a stranger. And she’d been ready to marry him!
The impact of her own stupidity made her slump back in her chair. Alex had just been doing his job. He’d never cared about her. Never loved her. Never even been attracted to her.
Her cheeks flamed when she thought about the reason he’d given her for not wanting to make love. How he’d wanted to wait until their wedding night. She’d thought him an old-fashioned romantic at the time. What a fool.
One tiny, rational part of her brain told her she’d be even more upset if he’d slept with her under false pretenses, but Paige was in no mood to be rational.
“I think you’d better leave,” she said with an odd calmness she was far from feeling.
“I’m not done.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “There’s more?”
He gave a brisk nod. “I never meant our relationship to go that far. The engagement, I mean. That e-mail proposal was sent by someone else. Someone who thought an engagement between us might make you open up to me.”
She was going to be sick. Or else she was going to shoot him. The latter sounded more enjoyable than the former. If only she had a gun…and knew how to operate one. Maybe Alex would give her a few lessons. It was the least he could do after lying to her.
“I meant to call off the wedding before it was too late, Paige,” he continued. “But everything just spun out of control. I’m sorry.”
He was sorry. As if that made everything all right. Alex sat there shirtless in front of her, patiently letting her absorb everything in silence. Looking so sexy that she wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair. She’d been wild about him and he’d been…faking it.
She met his gaze and the expression on her face made him scoot his chair back a notch.
“Are you done?” she asked.
“For now.” He leaned forward. “I know this isn’t easy to hear, Paige, but I thought you deserved to know the truth.”
In her opinion, truth was highly overrated. She would have preferred to keep believing he’d dumped her, just like every other man in her life.
It was pathetic, really. During the past year, Paige had come to the depressing realization that every relationship she’d ever had, beginning when she was fifteen years old, had been ended by her male counterpart. Not once had she been the dumper instead of the dumpee. Not once had she broken someone’s heart.
She wouldn’t mind breaking Alex’s heart right now. Along with other assorted appendages. Most of which she’d never seen before. She wasn’t sure which was worse. The fact that he’d been playing her or that it had been so easy for him to do.
Talk about insulting. She mentally cringed at the thought of that night on the balcony. She’d brought him here to show him the apartment, blabbering endlessly about their future life together. Then she’d kissed him, practically throwing herself at him. But he’d nobly resisted her advances.
Saint Alex.
Now he was back, confessing all, looking for redemption. Fat chance. She’d rather push him off the balcony.
“Are you all right?” he asked at last, his face searching her own.
“It’s a little stuffy in here.” She fanned her warm cheeks, then looked toward the open balcony doors. “I could use some fresh air.”
The door chime forestalled his reply. Paige set her jaw and walked to the door, opening it to reveal two uniformed policemen.
“Please come in, officers.”
Alex slowly stood up as the cops entered the apartment, his gaze wary. “What’s going on?”
The older cop took in the shattered dishes on the floor and the upturned table. “That’s what we want to know. We received a telephone call from this apartment about a possible domestic disturbance.”
Alex turned to her. “You called the police?”
She nodded. “Just like I warned you I was going to do. Unlike you, Alex, I mean what I say.”
He took a step towards her but the younger cop moved into his path, putting himself squarely between Alex and Paige.
“Listen to me, Paige,” Alex entreated, craning his neck around the officer. “Despite everything, I fell in love with you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
The older cop turned to her. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“I’m not sure,” Paige said honestly.
“Look,” Alex explained, turning to the cops, “the two of us just need some time alone to work things out.”
“That’s what they all say,” the younger cop muttered under his breath.
The older cop ushered Paige to a chair. “Would you like to file a complaint?”
“What happens if I do?” she asked.
“We’ll take this man with us and make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”
“You mean arrest him?”
The cop nodded. “If you’re willing to file charges.”
She looked at Alex. “Absolutely.”
“Paige, this is crazy!” Alex exclaimed as the younger cop pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Tell them there’s been a mistake. Explain what really happened.”
“All right.” She turned to the cops. “Mr. Mack threatened to break down my door, then he barged in here and broke all of my good dishes. Then he proceeded to take his shirt off. Is that enough to file charges?”
The younger cop nodded. “Trespassing. Destruction of private property. Attempted assault. What do you think, Bill?”
“Sounds like he wins a trip down to the county jail to me. All expenses paid.”
Alex didn’t struggle as they led him out of the apartment in handcuffs. He just stared at Paige in stunned disbelief until they’d crossed the threshold and disappeared down the long hallway.
Paige followed after them. “Wait a minute, officers.”
The younger cop turned to her at the top of the stairs. “Yes, ma’am?”
Hope lit Alex’s dark eyes. The same eyes that had haunted her dreams for the last year.
“He forgot his shirt.” She shove the wadded gray T-shirt between Alex’s cuffed wrists, then turned back into the apartment and shut the door.
It wasn’t a gun or a shove off the balcony, but it was enough.
For now.
3
Franco’s Notes:
MY LATEST SUBJECT is Paige Hanover. She’s young and cute, the perfect prototype to test the power of the skirt. I’m thinking Ashley Judd to play her in the movie. Naturally, I didn’t tell her I’m writing a screenplay about the skirt’s effect on men. Things definitely sounded interesting upstairs after that young Greek stud headed up to her apartment. Lots of shouting and the sound of dishes breaking.
Did the sight of Paige in that skirt make the man go berserk? I know the aphrodisiac effect of the unique fabric is said to be quite powerful. However, it appears Paige wasn’t open to his advances. I saw the police take her hot-blooded admirer away in handcuffs. Perhaps I could make my screenplay a murder mystery. I’ll have to see what develops from here….
TWO DAYS LATER, Paige sat at her desk in the back office of Bay Bouquets. She’d inherited the business after her father’s death in a traffic accident had left her as Grandpa Hanover’s only heir. Her grandfather had taken Paige and her mother in shortly after Margo’s breakdown, giving her mother a job as a clerk in the store after she’d recovered while making Paige his apprentice. Grandpa Hanover had not only given Paige full ownership of Bay Bouquets in his will five years ago, but left her his house as well.
She’d inherited his natural talent with flowers, but not with numbers. She bent over the desk, trying to concentrate on the invoices and accounts receivable in front of her. There were some days she just wanted to chuck it all and camp out on a mountaintop somewhere and stare at the stars.
But that would meaning selling the store and Paige couldn’t conceive of letting go of her grandfather’s legacy. It had meant too much to him. Besides, her mother worked here, too, as well as Lena, a longtime assistant who could practically run the place by herself.
“More fan mail.” Her mother walked into the office and dropped a bundle of envelopes on top of the desk. Margo Weaver was half a foot shorter than her daughter, with ash-blonde hair, bright green eyes and a button nose. She wore a pink knit warm-up suit today with matching pink tennis shoes.
“I don’t want to read them,” Paige replied.
“But these are all addressed to you.” Margo pulled a chair up beside the desk and sat down with a contented sigh. “ UFO Watch aired that segment about Alex’s disappearance again Saturday night.”
“I know,” she said with a groan. “I saw it.”
Then she’d seen Alex. Literally. Although she hadn’t told her mother about their meeting—or about having him arrested.
She’d had two days to cool off and now Paige wondered if she might have overreacted just a little. Yes, Alex had taken her by surprise. Yes, she’d been stunned to learn that he’d romanced her under false pretenses.
Stunned might be an understatement. Paige was still reeling. She was also hurt and disillusioned. But as much as she wanted to wreak some old-fashioned justice, nothing that Alex had done to her was actually criminal.
Infuriating, but unfortunately not illegal.
Which left her with two alternatives. She could pursue revenge through the court system and let the lawyers worry about all the legalities. Or she could drop the charges and forget about her ex-fiancé once and for all. The former was the most tempting, but it also meant putting Alex front and center in her life once again.
“Earth to Paige.”
She looked up to see her mother’s forehead crinkled in concern.
“What’s wrong?” Margo asked.
“Nothing.” Paige stared blankly at the order forms on her desk.
“You’re thinking about Alex,” Margo surmised. “I can always tell. You get this look on your face.”
That settled it. “Alex is history.”
Margo reached across the desk and patted her daughter’s hand. “I know how you feel. Some days I worry that Stanley is never coming back.”
“Maybe it’s time to file for divorce,” Paige suggested for the hundredth time since Stanley had left her mother. “Time to move on with your life.”
Margo shook her head. “I can’t give up hope. Not when there’s a chance Stanley may return to me. I know you think it’s silly to give interviews to shows like UFO Watch, but maybe someone will be watching who can help us find Stanley and Alex.”
“Have you read any of these letters, Mom?” Paige pointed to the stack on her desk. “They’re all from crackpots.”
Margo sniffed. “Just because you don’t happen to believe in the existence of UFOs or alien abductions doesn’t make the rest of us crackpots.”
Paige swallowed her retort. They’d had this argument before and it had never gotten them anywhere. Margo clung tenaciously to the belief that her husband had left her against his will. Abduction by aliens seemed preferable to the possibility that he had simply walked away.
“How long are you going to wait for Stanley to come back to you, Mom?” Paige asked softly. “Another year? Five years? Ten?”
The chime of the laser door alarm signaled a customer had walked into the shop. Margo headed out of the office, pausing only a moment to reply to her daughter. “I’ll wait for him just as long as it takes, Paige. We shouldn’t give up on the people we love.”
Paige shook her head as her mother disappeared from the doorway. In her opinion, there was a huge difference between giving up and clinging to a romantic delusion. She’d waited a full year for the man she loved to come back to her. A man she now knew had never loved her at all. She didn’t intend to waste one more minute on Alex Mack.
Picking up the telephone, she looked up the number of the local precinct in the directory, then dialed the police. It took three operator transfers before she finally reached someone who could help her.
“Sergeant Phelps,” barked a low voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, this is Paige Hanover. I filed a complaint against Alex Mack on Saturday night and the police took him to jail. But now I’m thinking about dropping the charges.”
“Will you spell his last name for me, please.”
“It’s Mack—M-A-C-K.”
“Hold on,” he said in a clipped voice. She could hear voices in the background, as well as the shuffle of papers and the rapid-fire click of computer keys.
“Yes, we’ve got an Alex Mack in custody,” the sergeant said a few moments later. “He just posted bail. Alex Mack aka Alexander Mackopoulos.”
“Alexander who?” Paige couldn’t have heard him right.
“Alex Mack is an alias,” the sergeant informed him. “His legal name is Alexander Mackopoulos.”
Her grip tightened on the phone. “Are you absolutely certain we’re talking about the same man?”
“I’m positive. Alexander Mackopoulos was brought in this past Saturday night on charges of trespassing, destruction of private property and attempted assault.”
“Those were the charges,” Paige concurred, “but are you sure about the name?”
“It’s the same name that was on file when he was released from county jail a week ago,” Sergeant Phelps replied. “The fingerprints are the same, too.”
“Did you say county jail?”
His tone grew impatient. “Do you have a hearing problem, ma’am?”
“Why was Alex in jail?”
“We’re not allowed to release that information over the telephone. If you plan to drop the charges against him, then you’ll need to come down to the station and fill out the paperwork.”
“I will. Thank you, Sergeant.” Her head whirled as she hung up the phone. Alex Mack wasn’t Alex Mack. He was Alexander Mackopoulos. Ex-fiancé and ex-convict.
A complete stranger. She hadn’t even known the real name of the man she’d been about to marry. When Alex had shown up Saturday night and confessed that he’d been assigned to romance her, she’d just assumed he was a cop. A silly assumption, now that she thought about it. Would the police have arrested one of their own so easily? The officers who had taken him away in handcuffs Saturday night certainly hadn’t seemed to recognize him.
So if Alex wasn’t a cop, why had he been looking for her stepfather? Why had he been in jail? And why had he suddenly popped back into her life after all this time?
And the most important question of all—what was Paige going to do now?
LATE MONDAY MORNING, Alex walked out of the San Francisco county jail a free man. Temporarily, anyway.
His older half brother, Nico, waited for him in the narrow hallway, one burly shoulder propped against the painted cinder block. “I think we need to have a talk.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Alex said, walking past him. Nico had always had an annoying habit of trying to tell him what to do. It had gotten even worse after their father died three months ago, when Nico had declared himself the head of the Mackopoulos family.
But his brother didn’t give up easily. “I just shelled out five hundred dollars, so I think you can listen to what I have to say.”
Listening to Nico was what had gotten him into this mess with Paige in the first place. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back every penny.”
Five hundred dollars had been the price of his bond, set by the judge less than an hour ago. His court date was scheduled for one month from today.
“I don’t give a damn about the money,” Nico said as they walked out of the courthouse and into bright California sunshine. “But I am worried about our mother getting wind of this. She’s been through enough lately.”
Alex couldn’t argue with that. The death of Lucian Mackopoulos had hit his wife Thea very hard. It amazed Alex that she could love that old man so much. Enough to forgive him for cheating on her twenty-nine years ago.
Enough to take his bastard son into her home.
Thea had always treated Alex as one of her own. She’d loved him unconditionally, even though he must have been a daily reminder of her husband’s infidelity. She’d never made him feel like an interloper in the Mackopoulos home, expecting everyone to treat him like a member of the family or face her wrath.
Not that his stepmother was the least bit intimidating. She was warm and loving, with a talent for cooking that had earned her a reputation for serving some of the best Greek cuisine in San Francisco. She’d toyed with the idea of opening a restaurant, but she had never followed through, insisting that her family came first. That was only one of the reasons Alex would protect her with his life. And why he’d gone to jail for her.
“Just explain to me why you’d be crazy enough to pay a visit to Paige Hanover after all this time?” Nico dug in his pocket for his car keys.
Alex stopped next to the vintage red Corvette that belonged to his brother. “None of your damn business.”
“If it affects this family, then it is my business.” Nico pushed the unlock button on his remote control, then popped open the door. “What exactly did you tell her, Alex?”
“Enough to get me thrown into jail.” Alex slid into the front passenger seat, then unspooled the seat belt. He was in no mood to deal with his overbearing brother today.
“Do you know what your problem is?” Nico asked.
Alex clenched his jaw. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to tell me.”
“You’re too damn noble. You probably went to see her so you could apologize. Am I right?”
“You think you are. That’s all that ever matters.”
Nico gripped the steering wheel of the parked car as he stared straight ahead. “Just tell me you didn’t spill all the family secrets to clear your conscience.”
Alex turned to look at him. “I went to jail for almost a year to keep our father’s secret. A Mackopoulos never breaks his word.”
“Then promise me you won’t see her again.”
Alex stared out the passenger window. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
He couldn’t tell Nico the real reason. That Paige had gotten under his skin a year ago and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to forget her. Need for her pulsed through his veins, even after she’d had him thrown in jail. But Alex wasn’t about to give up. A Mackopoulos never surrendered.
Unfortunately, his brother shared that same trait. Which made it difficult to deal with him whenever they disagreed. Like now, for instance.
“Just drop me off at Bay Bouquets in the Embarcadero Center. We’ll talk about this later.”
Nico narrowed his eyes. “Paige’s flower shop? Are you crazy? She had you locked up the last time you saw her. She might shoot you this time.”
“She’s not a violent person,” Alex said, hoping it was true. He’d never seen Paige as angry as she’d been the other night, her cheeks flushed with indignation and her blue eyes flashing fire. But passion burned underneath that fire. He could see it in the way she looked at him.
“How much does she know?” Nico asked, pulling out of the parking lot.
Alex turned to him. “She knows I dated her to try and gather information about her stepfather. She doesn’t know why. Or that you were the one who sent her that damn e-mail proposal.”
“I only sent it because you weren’t making any progress in locating Stanley Weaver. It’s obvious to me now that I should have done the job myself.”
The thought of Nico romancing Paige set Alex’s teeth on edge. “She couldn’t have told you what she didn’t know.”
“Maybe,” Nico conceded. “But it looks like I’ll be making her acquaintance anyway.”
Alex frowned at him. “Why?”
“To convince her to drop these ridiculous charges against you. I don’t want you spending another minute in jail. Not when I should have gone in your place.”
He was talking about the year Alex had been incarcerated on contempt charges for refusing to testify before a grand jury. It had been his bad luck to draw a hardnosed judge who routinely jailed witnesses until they agreed to talk. A judge who didn’t care that Lucian Mackopoulos, the owner of the company under investigation for illegal distribution of funds, was too ill to even realize what was happening.
Alex thought back to how it had all started, when Nico had come across a blackmail threat meant for their father. There was an audiotape, proving that Lucian had recently had a fling with a stripper in his private office, along with a threat promising to send the tape to Thea unless their father handed over twenty thousand dollars.
The blackmailer obviously didn’t know that Lucian had just suffered his first heart attack the day before. Nico, shocked by the evidence of his father’s betrayal, had paid the money to protect his mother. That had been his first mistake. His second had been withdrawing the funds from the company account.
By the time he’d confided in Alex, it had been too late. An overzealous IRS agent had caught the discrepancy months later and an investigation had begun.
Alex and Nico had begun an investigation of their own during that time, after the security firm they’d hired had pegged Stanley Weaver as the probable blackmailer. That’s when Alex had gone undercover as Paige’s boyfriend, hoping to discover Stanley’s whereabouts and try to find the original of the explosive audiotape.
But nothing had turned out as they’d planned. And neither Alex nor Nico could reveal the truth behind the missing twenty thousand dollars. Not without breaking their mother’s heart.
If Lucian hadn’t died of heart complications three months ago, Alex might still be in jail. They’d let him out just long enough to tell his father goodbye. Just long enough for Lucian to extract a promise from both his sons to take good care of their mother.
A promise they both intended to keep.
With Lucian’s death, the investigation against Mackopoulos Imports came to a grinding halt. But it still took almost twelve weeks before the case was officially closed and Alex was released from jail. He certainly didn’t intend to go back again.
“I’ll talk to Paige myself,” Alex said.
“Are you sure?” Nico asked him, turning into the Embarcadero Center. “I’ll be happy to handle it for you.”
“I’m sure,” he said firmly.
Alex tried to ignore the thrill of anticipation in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her all weekend. Despite the fact that she’d had him thrown in jail, he still wanted her.
In truth, he wanted her more now than when he’d been forced to leave her a year ago. But he still couldn’t tell her about the grand-jury proceedings. Or the contempt charges. Not without revealing everything.
Alex rubbed one hand over his face, realizing Paige would probably never let him near her again. But at least now he had an excuse. A reason to see her again. It was a step in the right direction.
Nico pulled up to the curb in front of Bay Bouquets. “Just let me know if she gives you any more trouble.”
“Thanks for the ride,” Alex said, climbing out of the Corvette. He didn’t want Nico within one hundred feet of Paige. The intensity of his possessiveness shocked him. It also made one thing perfectly clear.
He wanted Paige back. For real this time.
Alex walked into the shop as the Corvette spun away. The scent of roses hit him immediately and he remembered the day he’d come to pick her up here for their first date. He’d intended to approach the project without emotion, just like he approached his job as the financial manager for his father’s company. But those intentions had evaporated the first time Paige had smiled at him.
And he’d never recovered.
When Alex walked inside the shop, his arrival set off a door chime and he saw Paige’s mother, Margo Weaver, turn from the potted rosebush she was grooming to greet him.
But the moment she saw his face, she fell to the floor in a dead faint.
Alex rushed around the counter, kneeling down beside her. He picked up the pruning shears that lay partially beneath her, then softly called her name. “Margo?”
The sound of footsteps made him look up. He saw Paige gaping at him, horror in her big blue eyes as she looked at her unconscious mother on the floor, then at the pruning shears he still held in his hand.
“Get away from my mother!”
4
PAIGE CHARGED toward Alex as he straightened to his full height. Her heart raced in her chest, but she couldn’t completely blame that reaction on fear.
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” he exclaimed, holding his hands out helplessly. “I just walked through the front door. She took one look at me and hit the floor.”
Paige moved to place herself between him and Margo. “Then why are you holding those?”
Alex looked down at the pruning shears in his right hand as if he’d never seen them before. “They fell out of your mother’s hand when she fainted. I thought it might be dangerous to leave them on the floor in case she started to flop around or something.”
Paige knelt down beside her mother, telling herself not to trust him. Despite falling madly in love with Alex a year ago, she didn’t know anything about him. A fact that still nagged at her.
Margo moaned and Paige sensed Alex moving closer beside her. Her traitorous body reacted to his nearness, a strange tingling emanating from somewhere deep inside of her.
“Is she all right?” he asked in a low voice. “Should I call an ambulance?”
“No,” Paige replied, picking up her mother’s limp hand from the floor and rubbing it vigorously between her own. “She’s fainted before. It’s how she reacts to a shock.”
The last time had been the night her husband disappeared. Margo had taken Paige out into the backyard to show her the unusual burn marks in the lawn. While they were outside, her mother had come across Stanley’s pocket watch half-hidden in the grass, the one she’d given him on their wedding day. And she’d fainted dead away.
“You didn’t tell her I was back?” Alex asked. “Or why I left?”
Paige remembered her own shock at seeing him at the door of the apartment. “No. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her, either. It’s bad enough everyone thinks you didn’t want to marry me. I’d prefer they didn’t learn you didn’t even want to date me.”
“That’s not true….” Alex protested, but another moan from Margo cut him off.
Paige kept rubbing her hand and soon Margo’s eyelids began to flutter.
“Mom?”
Margo opened her eyes and looked up at her daughter. “What…happened?”
“You fainted,” Paige replied, relieved to see some color flow back into her mother’s cheeks.
Margo’s gaze moved over her shoulder to where Alex stood. Her eyes widened. “He’s back.”
Paige reached for a large green florist’s sponge on the shelf behind her, then pillowed it gently beneath her mother’s head. “I know.”
Margo stared up at her daughter. “But how can you be so calm about this? It’s a miracle!”
“Not quite,” Paige said, reaching for her mother’s other hand. “Let’s try to sit you up.”
Margo shook off her help, then rose gingerly to her knees. “I’m fine. I just can’t believe they let Alex go.”
“They?” Alex intoned as Paige stifled a groan.
“The aliens who abducted you,” Margo explained. She grabbed the edge of the counter and hauled herself to her feet. “Just like my poor Stanley.”
Alex skittered a glance toward Paige and she knew he was about to suggest calling an ambulance again.
“Mom’s still a UFO buff,” she explained, brushing the floor dust off the back of her mother’s blue jumper. “She believes anyone who disappears under mysterious circumstances was the victim of alien foul play.”
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Kristin Gabriel
One year after being left at the altar, Paige Hanover has a new wardrobe, a new apartment and a new attitude. She's going to take another chance on love…but the last man she expects to want that chance is her long-lost fiancé, Alex Mack. He's claiming that it was all a mistake, that he never stopped loving her. But Paige isn't about to be fooled again. Armed with the "man-magnet" skirt, she intends to break his heart this time. Only, she doesn't know that the skirt's powerful attraction can work both ways.…
She’d fallen in love with a jerk
A handsome, sexy, charming jerk, but a jerk all the same. Paige blamed herself for indulging in a whirlwind romance. For agreeing to marry a man she’d known for barely a month. For letting him break her heart.
She blamed Alex for everything else, though. The cowardly way he’d run off before the wedding. All the silly hype that had followed. But most of all, she blamed him for the way he’d made her doubt herself.
So it was time to put him in the past, once and for all. Carefully pulling her chain over her head, Paige undid the clasp and a diamond ring fell into her palm. The platinum band glistened in the waning sunlight. She closed her fist around it…then hurled it over the balcony. “Goodbye, Alex.”
She leaned over the railing to watch the ring fly through the air. It bounced down the sidewalk several feet before she finally lost sight of it.
Gone forever. Just like Alex. A perfect ending to what she’d once believed was a perfect love.
Paige headed for the door, ready to step into her new life…and saw Alex Mack standing on the other side.
“Hi, honey,” he said with a sheepish grin. “I’m home.”
Dear Reader,
Most women have had one, at one time or another—an unforgettable love affair with a sexy, irresistible guy who steals their heart…and then steals away. But what would you do if that man came back? Would you let him in, or would you barricade the door?
Paige Hanover not only remembers the man who left her at the altar, she’s ready for him when he makes the mistake of coming back. She wants revenge on Alex Mackopoulos for romancing her under false pretenses—and under a phony name! Alex says he’s willing to do almost anything to make her love him again. Anything…except tell her the truth.
I hope you enjoy Alex and Paige’s story. It’s set in San Francisco, which was voted one of the sexiest cities in America on the SINGLE IN THE CITY Web site. You can find even more information about this popular Temptation miniseries at www.singleinthecity.org. And be sure to watch for Cara Summers’s Flirting with Temptation, the final SINGLE IN THE CITY book, available next month.
All my best,
Kristin Gabriel
The SINGLE IN THE CITY miniseries
860—MOONSTRUCK IN MANHATTAN—Cara Summers
864—TEMPTED IN TEXAS—Heather MacAllister
868—SEDUCED IN SEATTLE—Kristin Gabriel
892—SKIRTING THE ISSUE—Heather MacAllister
896—SHEERLY IRRESISTIBLE—Kristin Gabriel
900—SHORT, SWEET AND SEXY—Cara Summers
928—MALE CALL—Heather MacAllister
932—ENGAGING ALEX—Kristin Gabriel
936—FLIRTING WITH TEMPTATION—Cara Summers
SINGLE IN SAN FRANCISCO—Cara Summers, an eHarlequin online read
Engaging Alex
Kristin Gabriel
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For Ann Auten—thanks for the party!
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u8efebd96-41d7-50cd-bd63-ef5a228e5032)
Chapter 2 (#u4ad43abd-74e8-50f0-9a53-e8a17bf58644)
Chapter 3 (#u8cb78a0e-29ff-5f61-b38b-437246a3a4d2)
Chapter 4 (#uf8968fb8-b1b9-5331-8b32-10684046cb0d)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
1
PAIGE HANOVER realized too late that she should have worn black sackcloth to celebrate her first wedding anniversary. Although it wasn’t technically her anniversary. After all, her fiancé, Alex Mack, had left her high and dry before the ceremony exactly one year ago today.
Now as she stood in the rain looking up at the old Victorian house that had been renovated into a four-unit apartment building, Paige could feel her new red leather pants literally shrinking onto her legs. Already skintight when dry, the pants would probably shut off her blood circulation before long.
She stepped forward to rap on the solid front door again, then peered through the ornate glass sidelight. A doorman sat with his back to her, totally engrossed in a television program on the small set in front of him. She could collapse from lack of blood flow to the brain and he probably wouldn’t even notice her on the doorstep for hours. Not that Paige needed a man to rescue her—not anymore.
Twisting the antique brass knob in her hand, she was surprised to hear it click open. Paige stepped into the foyer, dripping rainwater onto the clean tile floor. The doorman didn’t even flinch at her arrival. His gaze was firmly fixed on the screen that flickered in the gloomy light.
So the place wasn’t exactly a bastion of security. Paige didn’t plan to stay long anyway. But when she saw the program he was watching on television, she almost considered running back out into the downpour and forgetting this whole crazy idea.
She saw herself on the screen trying to escape a tenacious reporter who kept thrusting a microphone under her chin as she tried to hurry down the narrow sidewalk.
“Do you believe in UFO abductions?”
“No,” she said tersely, her eyes straight-ahead as she walked.
“Then how can you explain your fiancé’s sudden disappearance on the day of your wedding? Or the fact that his whereabouts are unknown?”
“No comment,” she clipped, before hastily ducking into a doorway.
The male reporter turned to the camera and spoke in a solemn tone. “One year ago today, this San Francisco woman woke up on her wedding day to discover that her fiancé had mysteriously disappeared. In our special edition of UFO Watch, we will hear why her mother believes aliens may be involved. And discuss why this left-behind bride is afraid to talk. Is the government responsible for silencing her? Or is it simply fear of the aliens that may have absconded with the love of her life?”
The reporter cleared his throat. “This is Cleo Dimont asking you to stay tuned and to always keep an eye on the sky.”
The doorman shook his head as the program went to commercial. “Amazing.”
“Pathetic,” Paige countered, feathering her fingers through her short curls.
The doorman jumped at the sound of her voice, whirling around as he clutched his slim hand to his chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on a person like that! Especially a person watching a show about alien abductions.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I wasn’t scared,” he countered. “I have black belts in karate and judo. You could have been seriously injured.”
“Too bad you weren’t around when that UFO Watch reporter pounced on me outside my house last week.”
The doorman blinked, looked at the television, then back at Paige. “I don’t believe it! You’re her. You’re the Left-Behind Bride!”
She clenched her teeth at the moniker the show had given her. Not that many people watched it among the hundreds of other local cable shows available. Still, she didn’t like having her private life beamed down from a satellite in the sky for public viewing.
That’s what she called alien abduction.
“My fiancé was not abducted by a UFO,” Paige told the doorman, a story she’d repeated too many times to remember. “He just got cold feet. But that’s not what the reporter wanted to hear.”
The doorman nodded in sympathy. “Reporters can be pests. At least he was cute.”
Paige hadn’t noticed. She’d spent the last year avoiding any man who looked in her direction. But that was about to change. No more hiding from life. From love. It was time to forget about Alex Mack once and for all. To say a final goodbye to the happily ever after fantasy that she’d clung to for far too long.
That’s why she was here tonight.
“I’m looking for Franco Rossi,” she said, aware that a small puddle had formed on the floor around her.
The doorman grinned. “That’s me. You must be here about the apartment.”
Paige nodded, setting down the grocery bag she’d been holding. “I’m Paige Hanover. We spoke yesterday on the telephone.” She didn’t tell him she’d called as soon as she’d seen the For Rent sign in the apartment window.
The timing couldn’t be more perfect. Her mother had called it cosmic fate, though Paige tried not to encourage Margo Weaver’s increasing fascination with extraterrestrial life. It had gotten worse since Paige’s stepfather had disappeared from the Weaver home a year and a half ago. Even Paige had to admit his middle-of-the-night vanishing act was strange. Almost tailor-made for a show like UFO Watch.
Like mother, like daughter.
Only Paige didn’t believe in UFOs, alien abductions, little green men or any of that other nonsense. She cringed at sensationalistic shows like UFO Watch, hating the fact that she was now one of their subjects.
Paige simply believed that she’d picked the wrong man, just like her mother. But that didn’t mean they should give up. Or cling to some ridiculous theory about aliens abducting the men they loved. It was time to face reality.
That’s why she was here tonight. To prove to herself and to her mother that it was a mistake to hold on to the past. Renting this apartment was her first step toward moving into the future.
Even the unusual lease fit Paige’s purpose. It was a time-share, allowing her to use the apartment just two days out of the week—Friday and Saturday. She’d paid the required minimum of one month’s rent, though she’d have no reason to return after tonight. She would consider the extra expense well-spent if it would get Alex Mack out of her head—and her heart—once and for all.
“The place is already furnished,” Franco said, “courtesy of my ex-boyfriend, Marlon. He owns prime real estate all over the country. I lived with him in New York City until we broke up, then I won this apartment in a landmark palimony suit and moved to San Francisco.”
Paige looked around the foyer. “Was working as the building’s doorman part of the agreement?”
Franco smiled. “It’s more of a volunteer position. I’m writing my first screenplay and I thought this would be a great opportunity to meet a lot of different people for character sketches. People like you.”
“So you don’t actually live here?” Paige asked, still somewhat confused.
Franco leaned closer and whispered. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’ve turned the janitor’s room in the basement into my own little home away from home. It’s absolutely horrid, but writers are supposed to suffer for their craft. And the money I collect from leasing the apartment will help me produce my screenplay.”
At least her rent payment was going to a worthwhile cause. “Well, good luck.”
“Thanks.” Franco reached into his pocket. “Here’s the key to the apartment. You have to furnish your own linens, as I told you on the phone. But you’re welcome to use any of the CDs in the stereo. I highly recommend the Wizard of Oz soundtrack. You just can’t beat Judy Garland.”
Paige nodded as she took the key, not bothering to tell him that she’d brought a CD of her own. One that fit the occasion perfectly.
Franco crossed his arms across his narrow chest as he looked her up and down. “You look a lot different than you did on television.”
“I cut my hair.” She reached up to touch the damp fringe at her neck. The stylist had tried to talk her out of cutting her waist-length hair, but Paige was determined to make some changes in her life. Big changes.
Franco nodded with approval. “It looks good. Great outfit, too.”
Paige glanced down at her red halter top and matching leather pants, still unable to believe she’d bought something this outrageous—much less put it on. Thanks to the rain, she just hoped she could get it off.
“The forecast was sunny and warm when I left home this morning,” she explained, though she usually didn’t forget her umbrella. She’d obviously had too many other things on her mind today.
“I hope it’s not ruined,” Franco commiserated, his gaze on her leather pants. “You should probably take them off and lay them out to dry.” He opened a closet door behind him and reached inside. “Here, you can borrow this to wear in the meantime.”
She saw him pull out a hanger with a black skirt hanging from it. “Thanks, but I couldn’t possibly—”
“Please take it,” Franco insisted, shoving it into her hands. “I don’t want you sitting on my furniture in wet pants. Besides, it’s a great skirt.” He glanced down at the bottle of wine in her bag. “Men love it.”
Paige transferred the hanger to her other hand, then picked up the bag off the floor and headed for the staircase. “Thanks for lending me the skirt. I owe you.”
“Believe me, it’s my pleasure,” Franco called after her. “Apartment 2B is on the left at the top of the stairs. I’ll be happy to show you the way.”
“That’s all right,” she assured him, taking a deep breath as she started up the steps. “I already know it.”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Paige had her leather pants off and the borrowed black skirt on, somewhat surprised at how well it fit. She thought it a little strange that the doorman would have a spare skirt in the closet, but everything about Franco seemed a little strange.
Peeling those shrunken leather pants off had been an arduous process, but definitely worth it. The silky fabric of the short skirt whispered against her bare thighs and made her want to sway to the Frank Sinatra song playing on the stereo. The song Alex used to sing in her ear when they danced. At least hearing it didn’t make her cry anymore.
The rain had finally abated, so Paige opened the balcony doors to let some fresh air into the stale apartment. It was located at the back of the old Victorian. She stepped out onto the balcony to see the row of Painted Ladies, the nickname given to Victorian houses adorned with several shades of coordinating paint, across the street. Many of the houses were in various stages of renovation.
She could smell a hint of the ocean as the breeze picked up. Turning back into the apartment, her gaze moved slowly over the table she’d set so meticulously.
There were two plates with chocolate éclairs on them, the dessert she and Alex had shared on their first date. A bottle of premium champagne chilling in an ice bucket, the same brand Alex had purchased the day of their engagement. A dried arrangement of white gardenias and stephanotis in the center of the table—her wedding bouquet.
A ripple of apprehension fluttered through her. This was a big step in her life. Paige had spent the past year preparing herself for this moment. Telling herself that it was time to move on. But was she really ready to forget about Alex—forever?
Yes.
She took a determined step toward the table and picked up the folded sheet of paper lying there. Alex’s marriage proposal—sent via e-mail over a year ago. Paige had been stunned when she’d opened it. Hadn’t really believed it until she’d printed it out in black and white. Now her gaze flew over the words she’d memorized long ago. Words that were imprinted on her heart.
Paige,
We’ve only known each other a few weeks, but I think I fell in love with you the moment we met. Say you’ll marry me and be mine forever.
Alex
She took a deep breath, then held the paper over the candle, letting the flame lick at the edges until it caught. The corner of the paper turned black and began curling toward her palm. She dropped it in a crystal bowl and watched it burn until it was nothing but ashes.
Then she picked up the imported champagne bottle and poured both flutes full of the sparkling wine. “Here’s to you, Alex Mack.” She raised one glass high in the air. “May you rot in hell.”
Paige caught her reflection in the antique wall mirror, still surprised by the woman she saw there. Her thick brown hair was now short and sassy, tapered at her neck and streaked with auburn highlights.
She’d gone on a shopping spree, too, buying outfits like the slinky halter top and matching red leather pants she’d worn here tonight. No more shapeless linen shifts and boring pantsuits for the new Paige Hanover.
It was time for a fresh start, symbolized by the anemone tattoo on her ankle. In the language of flowers, anemones stood for anticipation. Paige had grown up with flowers, working in her paternal grandfather’s flower shop, Bay Bouquets, then inheriting it from him after his death five years ago.
Now she designed custom floral arrangements for the homes and businesses of some of the wealthiest citizens of San Francisco. Her mother ran the front of the store and her stepfather had made all the deliveries until his sudden disappearance eighteen months ago.
Bay Bouquets was definitely a family affair, but maybe it was time to expand. Once she put Alex behind her, she could concentrate fully on her business. Maybe even look into starting a franchise.
But first things first.
Paige walked over to the stereo and ejected the Sinatra CD, then stepped out onto the balcony. Lights shone in the houses around her and she knew families were sitting down to dinner together. Couples were telling each other about their day. She’d dreamed of doing the same with Alex in this very apartment.
A dream that had been hard to let go—until tonight.
Holding the CD in her hand like a Frisbee, she flipped her wrist and sent it spinning into the night. “Goodbye, Frank.”
Then her hand went to the engagement ring she kept on a chain around her neck. She’d worn it next to her heart for the past year. An exquisite half-carat diamond that had been a symbol of Alex’s commitment—until her handsome fiancé had disappeared without any explanation.
Her throat tightened, remembering the thrill that had soared through her when Alex had pulled the ring from his shirt pocket and presented it to her. The shy, almost embarrassed way he’d slipped it on her finger.
Paige had kissed him then, so full of passion for him that it had scorched her down to her very soul. Alex had lost all of his shyness, pulling her tightly against him and ravishing her lips with his mouth. She breathed a deep, wistful sigh, remembering the moment and the desire she could have sworn she’d seen in his eyes.
Paige had believed that they would finally consummate their relationship that night…but had only been disappointed once again.
Alex had wanted to wait until their wedding night. Had murmured something about wanting to make it special between them. She’d actually thought it rather sweet at the time—as well as a little frustrating.
Now she knew it had been a sign.
A bad sign. Alex hadn’t wanted her after all. Something…something about her had made him change his mind. He hadn’t even bothered to explain the reason in the note he’d left, which had contained only two words: Sorry, Alex. She’d spent months going over every moment they’d spent together, trying to figure out what she’d done wrong.
After months of torturous soul-searching and endless phone conversations with her friends analyzing every angle of the relationship, Paige had finally figured it out. She’d fallen in love with a jerk.
A handsome, sexy, charming jerk, but a jerk all the same. Paige blamed herself for indulging in a whirlwind romance. For agreeing to marry a man she’d known for barely a month. For letting him break her heart.
She blamed Alex for everything else. The cowardly way he ran off before the wedding. All the silly UFO hype that had followed. But most of all, she blamed him for the way he’d made her doubt herself.
So it was time to put him in the past once and for all. After tonight she’d never think about or cry over Alex again. Maybe her mother would even follow her example, though Paige didn’t hold out much hope.
Margo Weaver didn’t handle loss well. She’d had a mental breakdown twelve years ago when Paige’s father had been killed in a car accident, refusing to accept his death. Just like she was refusing to accept the fact that her second husband wasn’t coming back. Margo was certain Stanley would return to her some day—as soon as the aliens let him go.
Paige didn’t want to end up like her mother—clinging to a crazy fantasy instead of accepting reality. Carefully pulling the chain over her head, she undid the clasp and the diamond ring fell into her palm. The platinum band glistened in the waning sunlight. She closed her fist around it, then hurled it over the balcony. “Goodbye, Alex.”
She leaned over the railing to watch the ring fly through the air. It bounced down the sidewalk several feet before she finally lost sight of it.
Gone forever. Just like Alex.
A perfect ending to what she’d once believed was a perfect love.
Paige straightened and turned, her heart lighter than it had been for a long time. She walked over to the table, blew out the candles, then dumped the éclairs into the trash. She intended to leave all the rest behind—the dishes, the candlesticks, the champagne. A thank-you to Franco for lending her the skirt for the evening. She had no reason to ever return to this apartment.
Paige opened the door, ready to step into her new life.
And saw Alex Mack standing on the other side.
She grabbed the doorjamb to keep from falling over, his sexy smile still able to make her heart bounce in her chest.
Then he said, “Hi, honey. I’m home.”
2
ALEX KNEW he’d said the wrong thing as soon as the words came tumbling out of his mouth. His communication skills had obviously suffered from lack of exercise in the last year. That’s what happened when you found yourself confined to a ten-by-ten cell twenty hours out of every day for twelve straight months.
He was lucky he could speak at all with Paige standing there in front of him after all this time. A Paige he almost didn’t recognize.
She’d cut her beautiful long hair. Ditched her classic conservative clothes for a red halter top and a short black skirt that made him stare at her legs for far too long. Then his gaze fell lower and he saw the fire-red polish on her toenails. He blinked and looked down toward her feet again. Was that a tattoo on her ankle?
His gaze moved slowly up her lush body as his tongue struggled for something intelligent to say. She looked incredible. He’d dreamed of this moment every day for the past year. Dreamed of her. Now he stood here gaping at her like an idiot, wanting to tell her how much he’d missed her. How much he wanted to hold her again and never let her go.
But before he could say a word, Paige made her own feelings perfectly clear. She slammed the door in his face.
Alex stood staring at the solid oak in shocked disbelief. The old Paige would have given him a chance to explain. She would have listened quietly to his side of the story and tried to understand. This new Paige, judging by the homicidal sparks he’d just seen in her big blue eyes, wasn’t interested in his explanation.
Tough.
Alex put up his fist and pounded hard on the door. He hadn’t come this far—or given up this much—to turn back now. “Paige, let me in.”
“Go away!”
“We need to talk.”
“You’re three hundred and sixty-five days too late!”
He reached for the knob. “Open this door.”
“I’m warning you, Alex,” she shouted from the other side. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Alex wiggled the doorknob but it stayed firmly locked. “And I’m warning you. If you don’t open this door by the time I count to three, I’m going to knock it down.”
Silence. The door didn’t budge.
“One.” he called out, certain she’d open it before he got to three. Paige was a reasonable person. She wouldn’t call his bluff.
“Two.” Then again, he hadn’t seen her for a year. Maybe she’d changed on the inside as well as on the outside. He backed up a step, trying to gauge the thickness of the wood. He’d never actually knocked a door down before, though it always seemed easy enough in the movies. He backed up another couple of steps.
“Three!”
Alex lowered his shoulder and barreled forward at the same moment the door swung open. Paige sidestepped out of his way to avoid a collision. Alex wasn’t quite so lucky. He flew inside the room and careened into a table. The dishes and candlesticks on it went flying, crashing onto the floor. Like Alex.
For a moment he just lay there, trying to remain conscious after banging the back of his head on a chair. Shards of china and glass surrounded him. Something wet seeped through the back of his shirt.
At last he looked up to see Paige gazing down at him. “Guess you called my bluff.”
“Now it looks like I should call an ambulance.”
He shifted on the floor, wincing slightly at a sharp pain in his right shoulder. “You’re not getting rid of me so easily.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “So what do I have to do to get you to leave? Set another wedding date?”
“Look, Paige…” Alex got up on one knee, then grew so dizzy he had to grab the leg of an overturned chair.
Paige reached out one hand to steady his shoulder. “Are you all right?”
Was that concern he heard in her voice? It gave him hope and enough encouragement to rise unsteadily to his feet. “I think so.”
“Too bad.”
So much for her concern. The momentary dizziness passed and he wiped his hand across the sticky wetness on the back of his shirt. “What’s this?”
“Champagne. Dom Pérignon, 1992. A very good year.”
Too late Alex realized that Paige must be expecting someone. He’d glimpsed the intimate table setting for two just before he’d crashed into it. The candles. The champagne. Hell.
She was expecting a man.
Jealousy washed over him like a tidal wave. Just the thought of another man touching Paige made him want to grab her in his arms and stake his claim. Alex took a deep breath, then another, a little stunned by his visceral reaction to the fact that she was dating. Had he really expected her to wait for him? Especially when he’d given her no indication that he was coming back?
Yes.
His faith in Paige’s love had made it possible to endure the hell of the last year. He’d assumed she’d be angry. Hurt. Confused. But he’d never even considered the possibility that she’d move on to another man.
Which proved that he truly was an idiot. She was gorgeous. Then again, she’d always been beautiful to him. But now she was different. The shy, reserved Paige of his memory was gone. The woman before him now was full of fire. A kitten who had morphed into a hellcat.
But she was his hellcat. Alex would make that fact perfectly clear to any man who happened to walk through the door.
Paige took a step toward him, her brow furrowed. “You’re bleeding.”
He followed her gaze to the front of his gray T-shirt and saw a small red stain spreading in a circle on his chest. No doubt he’d landed on one of the slivers of glass on the floor.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” he said wryly. “It’s probably not serious.”
She met his gaze. “You might need stitches.”
Pulling his T-shirt over his head, he wadded it up into a ball then dabbed away the blood on his chest. “See? Nothing serious. You can barely see the cut.”
She wrenched her gaze up from his chest and cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed. “Good. Okay, well, you can leave now.”
He tossed the shirt aside. “You’re awfully eager to get rid of me. Afraid your date won’t like finding another man here alone with you?”
She blinked. “My what?” Then her eyes narrowed. “Wait a minute, how did you know where to find me?”
“This is where you live,” he replied, confused by her question. He probably had a concussion.
She shook her head. “Not anymore. I sold this apartment eleven months ago.”
Alex couldn’t believe it. She had fallen in love with this old place the moment she’d set eyes on it. He remembered the way she’d danced around the apartment when she’d given him a tour after making the down payment, almost giddy with excitement. The way she’d wanted to turn it into the perfect newlywed nest—a place for just the two of them.
But most of all, he remembered the hot kiss she’d given him on the balcony. The lushness of her body pressed into his own. Her soft whispers of love in his ear.
He sucked in a deep breath, the ache of those memories slicing deeper than the superficial cut on his chest. He’d been fooling himself that they’d be able to resume where they’d left off after he explained everything.
Well, not everything.
He planned to tell her just enough to make her understand. Enough to keep her from asking more questions—questions he couldn’t answer. But now he sensed it wasn’t going to be that easy.
That didn’t stop him from asking a question of his own. “If you sold the apartment, why are you here now?”
“That’s really none of your business.”
Jealousy flared up in him once more. Was she living with another man? He looked around the room. “This doesn’t look like your furniture.”
“You’re right, it’s not,” she replied, with no further explanation.
“So what is it doing here? What are you doing here, Paige?”
She picked up one of the chairs and set it upright on the floor. “If you must know, I’m leasing the place on a time-share basis—weekends only. I thought it would give me a chance to get away from everything.”
That did make sense. He’d met her mother. But his instincts told him there was still something she wasn’t telling him. A year ago, Alex would have pushed her for a clearer answer. Digging deeper. Always digging. Paige had mentioned once that she liked the way he always listened to her. She hadn’t realized that was his job.
Paige’s voice cut through his reverie. “So why are you here?”
“Because I want to explain why I left.”
“Don’t bother. There’s absolutely nothing you can say that will change anything.”
“Maybe not. But I’ll feel better.”
She arched a finely winged brow. “This may come as a shock, Alex, but making you feel better isn’t high on my list of priorities.”
She was bitter. He couldn’t blame her. But Paige deserved to know the truth. Needed to know the truth. At least, some of it.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he blurted, realizing too late he should have rehearsed what he was going to say to her. He’d certainly had long enough to do it. “Everything just got out of control.”
“You should have told me you were having second thoughts,” she said haltingly. “Instead, you just…left.”
“Under the circumstances, I thought that would be for the best.”
“Best for you, maybe. You didn’t have to announce to everybody that the wedding was off. You didn’t have to deal with the caterer or the reception hall or the band. You didn’t have to pretend your heart wasn’t broken….” She sucked in a deep breath, then tipped up her chin. “Don’t you see, Alex? You did more than dump me. You humiliated me.”
Her words hit him low in the gut. Wrenching. Twisting. He braced himself against the pain, knowing it was only going to get worse before the night was over. He glanced at the door, tempted to walk out. To let her think he’d just suffered a case of cold feet.
But that wasn’t the case. He’d waited a year for this moment. Marking off every day on the calendar until he could tell her what was in his heart.
Alex didn’t plan to waste another second. “I’m sorry about everything you went through, Paige. But I have to make one thing perfectly clear.”
“What?” she asked.
“I never asked you to marry me.”
PAIGE STARED AT HIM, wondering if the collision with the floor had affected his brain. “That’s not true. I still have the proposal you e-mailed me.” She looked at the gray ashes scattered on the messy floor. “At least I had it until a few minutes ago.”
“I agree you received a proposal,” Alex said slowly, “but it wasn’t from me.”
Paige reached blindly behind her for a chair and sat down. Maybe it was the champagne or the shock of seeing Alex again or the fact that he wasn’t wearing a shirt, but for some reason her knees felt a little wobbly.
“Are you just trying to torture me?” she asked. “I’m finally over you, Alex. The last thing I need is for you to come barging back into my life, causing more chaos. So I suggest you leave. Now. For both our sakes.”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “Just hear me out first.”
Nobody could say she hadn’t warned him. “Okay, fine. Tell your story.”
Alex pulled up another chair beside her, straddling the back of it in one easy motion. She couldn’t help but notice the ripple of taut muscle over his chest and belly. He was slimmer than he’d been a year ago. Fitter. Maybe the time away from her had been good for him. Maybe Franco had a shirt he could borrow.
When Paige met his gaze again, she couldn’t help but feel that Alex was a virtual stranger. Those wonderful few weeks of their whirlwind courtship almost seemed like a blur now. A crazy dream. Had she really agreed to marry this man?
“Promise me you’ll hear me out,” Alex said. “No matter what I say, you won’t leave or try to kick me out until I’m done.”
Her stomach twisted. It must really be bad. Was there another woman? Was he married? Was he an alien? Paige shook those unsettling thoughts from her head. She’d been spending too much time with her mother. “Okay, I promise.”
He hesitated, as if not sure how to begin. “Our first meeting was a setup, Paige. I was supposed to bump into you that day on the wharf. I was supposed to make you fall in love with me.”
Her mind flashed back to that fateful day on Fisherman’s Wharf, a place she loved despite all the tourist trappings. She spent almost every Sunday there if the weather was decent. It had been sunny the day she’d met Alex, if a little cool. She’d worn a khaki jacket. Alex had spilled raspberry iced tea on it when he’d bumped into her.
Now he was here telling her that had all been staged. All part of some scheme. Which left her with one simple question. “Why?”
“Because I was assigned to find information about your missing stepfather. We didn’t buy the story about his abduction by a UFO. We thought you and your mother were hiding the truth. So if I got close to you…”
“You could find out what really happened,” Paige breathed. It was all starting to make horrible sense to her now. The police had been called after her stepfather’s disappearance but they’d been highly skeptical of Margo’s UFO explanation. Even speculating that her mother might have something do with Stanley’s disappearance.
They’d obviously decided to send in one of their own to determine if there had been foul play. And what better way to get to the mother than through the daughter?
It also explained why Alex had never shared much about himself or his family. The fact that she’d never been to his home—or even knew his address. The way he’d listen so patiently when she talked on and on. The fact that he never complained about spending time with her kooky mother. She’d watched enough shows about undercover cops to know that’s how they operated.
No wonder she’d thought of him as a stranger just now. He was a stranger. And she’d been ready to marry him!
The impact of her own stupidity made her slump back in her chair. Alex had just been doing his job. He’d never cared about her. Never loved her. Never even been attracted to her.
Her cheeks flamed when she thought about the reason he’d given her for not wanting to make love. How he’d wanted to wait until their wedding night. She’d thought him an old-fashioned romantic at the time. What a fool.
One tiny, rational part of her brain told her she’d be even more upset if he’d slept with her under false pretenses, but Paige was in no mood to be rational.
“I think you’d better leave,” she said with an odd calmness she was far from feeling.
“I’m not done.”
She looked at him in disbelief. “There’s more?”
He gave a brisk nod. “I never meant our relationship to go that far. The engagement, I mean. That e-mail proposal was sent by someone else. Someone who thought an engagement between us might make you open up to me.”
She was going to be sick. Or else she was going to shoot him. The latter sounded more enjoyable than the former. If only she had a gun…and knew how to operate one. Maybe Alex would give her a few lessons. It was the least he could do after lying to her.
“I meant to call off the wedding before it was too late, Paige,” he continued. “But everything just spun out of control. I’m sorry.”
He was sorry. As if that made everything all right. Alex sat there shirtless in front of her, patiently letting her absorb everything in silence. Looking so sexy that she wanted to scream. It wasn’t fair. She’d been wild about him and he’d been…faking it.
She met his gaze and the expression on her face made him scoot his chair back a notch.
“Are you done?” she asked.
“For now.” He leaned forward. “I know this isn’t easy to hear, Paige, but I thought you deserved to know the truth.”
In her opinion, truth was highly overrated. She would have preferred to keep believing he’d dumped her, just like every other man in her life.
It was pathetic, really. During the past year, Paige had come to the depressing realization that every relationship she’d ever had, beginning when she was fifteen years old, had been ended by her male counterpart. Not once had she been the dumper instead of the dumpee. Not once had she broken someone’s heart.
She wouldn’t mind breaking Alex’s heart right now. Along with other assorted appendages. Most of which she’d never seen before. She wasn’t sure which was worse. The fact that he’d been playing her or that it had been so easy for him to do.
Talk about insulting. She mentally cringed at the thought of that night on the balcony. She’d brought him here to show him the apartment, blabbering endlessly about their future life together. Then she’d kissed him, practically throwing herself at him. But he’d nobly resisted her advances.
Saint Alex.
Now he was back, confessing all, looking for redemption. Fat chance. She’d rather push him off the balcony.
“Are you all right?” he asked at last, his face searching her own.
“It’s a little stuffy in here.” She fanned her warm cheeks, then looked toward the open balcony doors. “I could use some fresh air.”
The door chime forestalled his reply. Paige set her jaw and walked to the door, opening it to reveal two uniformed policemen.
“Please come in, officers.”
Alex slowly stood up as the cops entered the apartment, his gaze wary. “What’s going on?”
The older cop took in the shattered dishes on the floor and the upturned table. “That’s what we want to know. We received a telephone call from this apartment about a possible domestic disturbance.”
Alex turned to her. “You called the police?”
She nodded. “Just like I warned you I was going to do. Unlike you, Alex, I mean what I say.”
He took a step towards her but the younger cop moved into his path, putting himself squarely between Alex and Paige.
“Listen to me, Paige,” Alex entreated, craning his neck around the officer. “Despite everything, I fell in love with you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”
The older cop turned to her. “Are you all right, ma’am?”
“I’m not sure,” Paige said honestly.
“Look,” Alex explained, turning to the cops, “the two of us just need some time alone to work things out.”
“That’s what they all say,” the younger cop muttered under his breath.
The older cop ushered Paige to a chair. “Would you like to file a complaint?”
“What happens if I do?” she asked.
“We’ll take this man with us and make sure he doesn’t bother you again.”
“You mean arrest him?”
The cop nodded. “If you’re willing to file charges.”
She looked at Alex. “Absolutely.”
“Paige, this is crazy!” Alex exclaimed as the younger cop pulled out a pair of handcuffs. “Tell them there’s been a mistake. Explain what really happened.”
“All right.” She turned to the cops. “Mr. Mack threatened to break down my door, then he barged in here and broke all of my good dishes. Then he proceeded to take his shirt off. Is that enough to file charges?”
The younger cop nodded. “Trespassing. Destruction of private property. Attempted assault. What do you think, Bill?”
“Sounds like he wins a trip down to the county jail to me. All expenses paid.”
Alex didn’t struggle as they led him out of the apartment in handcuffs. He just stared at Paige in stunned disbelief until they’d crossed the threshold and disappeared down the long hallway.
Paige followed after them. “Wait a minute, officers.”
The younger cop turned to her at the top of the stairs. “Yes, ma’am?”
Hope lit Alex’s dark eyes. The same eyes that had haunted her dreams for the last year.
“He forgot his shirt.” She shove the wadded gray T-shirt between Alex’s cuffed wrists, then turned back into the apartment and shut the door.
It wasn’t a gun or a shove off the balcony, but it was enough.
For now.
3
Franco’s Notes:
MY LATEST SUBJECT is Paige Hanover. She’s young and cute, the perfect prototype to test the power of the skirt. I’m thinking Ashley Judd to play her in the movie. Naturally, I didn’t tell her I’m writing a screenplay about the skirt’s effect on men. Things definitely sounded interesting upstairs after that young Greek stud headed up to her apartment. Lots of shouting and the sound of dishes breaking.
Did the sight of Paige in that skirt make the man go berserk? I know the aphrodisiac effect of the unique fabric is said to be quite powerful. However, it appears Paige wasn’t open to his advances. I saw the police take her hot-blooded admirer away in handcuffs. Perhaps I could make my screenplay a murder mystery. I’ll have to see what develops from here….
TWO DAYS LATER, Paige sat at her desk in the back office of Bay Bouquets. She’d inherited the business after her father’s death in a traffic accident had left her as Grandpa Hanover’s only heir. Her grandfather had taken Paige and her mother in shortly after Margo’s breakdown, giving her mother a job as a clerk in the store after she’d recovered while making Paige his apprentice. Grandpa Hanover had not only given Paige full ownership of Bay Bouquets in his will five years ago, but left her his house as well.
She’d inherited his natural talent with flowers, but not with numbers. She bent over the desk, trying to concentrate on the invoices and accounts receivable in front of her. There were some days she just wanted to chuck it all and camp out on a mountaintop somewhere and stare at the stars.
But that would meaning selling the store and Paige couldn’t conceive of letting go of her grandfather’s legacy. It had meant too much to him. Besides, her mother worked here, too, as well as Lena, a longtime assistant who could practically run the place by herself.
“More fan mail.” Her mother walked into the office and dropped a bundle of envelopes on top of the desk. Margo Weaver was half a foot shorter than her daughter, with ash-blonde hair, bright green eyes and a button nose. She wore a pink knit warm-up suit today with matching pink tennis shoes.
“I don’t want to read them,” Paige replied.
“But these are all addressed to you.” Margo pulled a chair up beside the desk and sat down with a contented sigh. “ UFO Watch aired that segment about Alex’s disappearance again Saturday night.”
“I know,” she said with a groan. “I saw it.”
Then she’d seen Alex. Literally. Although she hadn’t told her mother about their meeting—or about having him arrested.
She’d had two days to cool off and now Paige wondered if she might have overreacted just a little. Yes, Alex had taken her by surprise. Yes, she’d been stunned to learn that he’d romanced her under false pretenses.
Stunned might be an understatement. Paige was still reeling. She was also hurt and disillusioned. But as much as she wanted to wreak some old-fashioned justice, nothing that Alex had done to her was actually criminal.
Infuriating, but unfortunately not illegal.
Which left her with two alternatives. She could pursue revenge through the court system and let the lawyers worry about all the legalities. Or she could drop the charges and forget about her ex-fiancé once and for all. The former was the most tempting, but it also meant putting Alex front and center in her life once again.
“Earth to Paige.”
She looked up to see her mother’s forehead crinkled in concern.
“What’s wrong?” Margo asked.
“Nothing.” Paige stared blankly at the order forms on her desk.
“You’re thinking about Alex,” Margo surmised. “I can always tell. You get this look on your face.”
That settled it. “Alex is history.”
Margo reached across the desk and patted her daughter’s hand. “I know how you feel. Some days I worry that Stanley is never coming back.”
“Maybe it’s time to file for divorce,” Paige suggested for the hundredth time since Stanley had left her mother. “Time to move on with your life.”
Margo shook her head. “I can’t give up hope. Not when there’s a chance Stanley may return to me. I know you think it’s silly to give interviews to shows like UFO Watch, but maybe someone will be watching who can help us find Stanley and Alex.”
“Have you read any of these letters, Mom?” Paige pointed to the stack on her desk. “They’re all from crackpots.”
Margo sniffed. “Just because you don’t happen to believe in the existence of UFOs or alien abductions doesn’t make the rest of us crackpots.”
Paige swallowed her retort. They’d had this argument before and it had never gotten them anywhere. Margo clung tenaciously to the belief that her husband had left her against his will. Abduction by aliens seemed preferable to the possibility that he had simply walked away.
“How long are you going to wait for Stanley to come back to you, Mom?” Paige asked softly. “Another year? Five years? Ten?”
The chime of the laser door alarm signaled a customer had walked into the shop. Margo headed out of the office, pausing only a moment to reply to her daughter. “I’ll wait for him just as long as it takes, Paige. We shouldn’t give up on the people we love.”
Paige shook her head as her mother disappeared from the doorway. In her opinion, there was a huge difference between giving up and clinging to a romantic delusion. She’d waited a full year for the man she loved to come back to her. A man she now knew had never loved her at all. She didn’t intend to waste one more minute on Alex Mack.
Picking up the telephone, she looked up the number of the local precinct in the directory, then dialed the police. It took three operator transfers before she finally reached someone who could help her.
“Sergeant Phelps,” barked a low voice on the other end of the line.
“Hello, this is Paige Hanover. I filed a complaint against Alex Mack on Saturday night and the police took him to jail. But now I’m thinking about dropping the charges.”
“Will you spell his last name for me, please.”
“It’s Mack—M-A-C-K.”
“Hold on,” he said in a clipped voice. She could hear voices in the background, as well as the shuffle of papers and the rapid-fire click of computer keys.
“Yes, we’ve got an Alex Mack in custody,” the sergeant said a few moments later. “He just posted bail. Alex Mack aka Alexander Mackopoulos.”
“Alexander who?” Paige couldn’t have heard him right.
“Alex Mack is an alias,” the sergeant informed him. “His legal name is Alexander Mackopoulos.”
Her grip tightened on the phone. “Are you absolutely certain we’re talking about the same man?”
“I’m positive. Alexander Mackopoulos was brought in this past Saturday night on charges of trespassing, destruction of private property and attempted assault.”
“Those were the charges,” Paige concurred, “but are you sure about the name?”
“It’s the same name that was on file when he was released from county jail a week ago,” Sergeant Phelps replied. “The fingerprints are the same, too.”
“Did you say county jail?”
His tone grew impatient. “Do you have a hearing problem, ma’am?”
“Why was Alex in jail?”
“We’re not allowed to release that information over the telephone. If you plan to drop the charges against him, then you’ll need to come down to the station and fill out the paperwork.”
“I will. Thank you, Sergeant.” Her head whirled as she hung up the phone. Alex Mack wasn’t Alex Mack. He was Alexander Mackopoulos. Ex-fiancé and ex-convict.
A complete stranger. She hadn’t even known the real name of the man she’d been about to marry. When Alex had shown up Saturday night and confessed that he’d been assigned to romance her, she’d just assumed he was a cop. A silly assumption, now that she thought about it. Would the police have arrested one of their own so easily? The officers who had taken him away in handcuffs Saturday night certainly hadn’t seemed to recognize him.
So if Alex wasn’t a cop, why had he been looking for her stepfather? Why had he been in jail? And why had he suddenly popped back into her life after all this time?
And the most important question of all—what was Paige going to do now?
LATE MONDAY MORNING, Alex walked out of the San Francisco county jail a free man. Temporarily, anyway.
His older half brother, Nico, waited for him in the narrow hallway, one burly shoulder propped against the painted cinder block. “I think we need to have a talk.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” Alex said, walking past him. Nico had always had an annoying habit of trying to tell him what to do. It had gotten even worse after their father died three months ago, when Nico had declared himself the head of the Mackopoulos family.
But his brother didn’t give up easily. “I just shelled out five hundred dollars, so I think you can listen to what I have to say.”
Listening to Nico was what had gotten him into this mess with Paige in the first place. “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back every penny.”
Five hundred dollars had been the price of his bond, set by the judge less than an hour ago. His court date was scheduled for one month from today.
“I don’t give a damn about the money,” Nico said as they walked out of the courthouse and into bright California sunshine. “But I am worried about our mother getting wind of this. She’s been through enough lately.”
Alex couldn’t argue with that. The death of Lucian Mackopoulos had hit his wife Thea very hard. It amazed Alex that she could love that old man so much. Enough to forgive him for cheating on her twenty-nine years ago.
Enough to take his bastard son into her home.
Thea had always treated Alex as one of her own. She’d loved him unconditionally, even though he must have been a daily reminder of her husband’s infidelity. She’d never made him feel like an interloper in the Mackopoulos home, expecting everyone to treat him like a member of the family or face her wrath.
Not that his stepmother was the least bit intimidating. She was warm and loving, with a talent for cooking that had earned her a reputation for serving some of the best Greek cuisine in San Francisco. She’d toyed with the idea of opening a restaurant, but she had never followed through, insisting that her family came first. That was only one of the reasons Alex would protect her with his life. And why he’d gone to jail for her.
“Just explain to me why you’d be crazy enough to pay a visit to Paige Hanover after all this time?” Nico dug in his pocket for his car keys.
Alex stopped next to the vintage red Corvette that belonged to his brother. “None of your damn business.”
“If it affects this family, then it is my business.” Nico pushed the unlock button on his remote control, then popped open the door. “What exactly did you tell her, Alex?”
“Enough to get me thrown into jail.” Alex slid into the front passenger seat, then unspooled the seat belt. He was in no mood to deal with his overbearing brother today.
“Do you know what your problem is?” Nico asked.
Alex clenched his jaw. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to tell me.”
“You’re too damn noble. You probably went to see her so you could apologize. Am I right?”
“You think you are. That’s all that ever matters.”
Nico gripped the steering wheel of the parked car as he stared straight ahead. “Just tell me you didn’t spill all the family secrets to clear your conscience.”
Alex turned to look at him. “I went to jail for almost a year to keep our father’s secret. A Mackopoulos never breaks his word.”
“Then promise me you won’t see her again.”
Alex stared out the passenger window. “I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
He couldn’t tell Nico the real reason. That Paige had gotten under his skin a year ago and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to forget her. Need for her pulsed through his veins, even after she’d had him thrown in jail. But Alex wasn’t about to give up. A Mackopoulos never surrendered.
Unfortunately, his brother shared that same trait. Which made it difficult to deal with him whenever they disagreed. Like now, for instance.
“Just drop me off at Bay Bouquets in the Embarcadero Center. We’ll talk about this later.”
Nico narrowed his eyes. “Paige’s flower shop? Are you crazy? She had you locked up the last time you saw her. She might shoot you this time.”
“She’s not a violent person,” Alex said, hoping it was true. He’d never seen Paige as angry as she’d been the other night, her cheeks flushed with indignation and her blue eyes flashing fire. But passion burned underneath that fire. He could see it in the way she looked at him.
“How much does she know?” Nico asked, pulling out of the parking lot.
Alex turned to him. “She knows I dated her to try and gather information about her stepfather. She doesn’t know why. Or that you were the one who sent her that damn e-mail proposal.”
“I only sent it because you weren’t making any progress in locating Stanley Weaver. It’s obvious to me now that I should have done the job myself.”
The thought of Nico romancing Paige set Alex’s teeth on edge. “She couldn’t have told you what she didn’t know.”
“Maybe,” Nico conceded. “But it looks like I’ll be making her acquaintance anyway.”
Alex frowned at him. “Why?”
“To convince her to drop these ridiculous charges against you. I don’t want you spending another minute in jail. Not when I should have gone in your place.”
He was talking about the year Alex had been incarcerated on contempt charges for refusing to testify before a grand jury. It had been his bad luck to draw a hardnosed judge who routinely jailed witnesses until they agreed to talk. A judge who didn’t care that Lucian Mackopoulos, the owner of the company under investigation for illegal distribution of funds, was too ill to even realize what was happening.
Alex thought back to how it had all started, when Nico had come across a blackmail threat meant for their father. There was an audiotape, proving that Lucian had recently had a fling with a stripper in his private office, along with a threat promising to send the tape to Thea unless their father handed over twenty thousand dollars.
The blackmailer obviously didn’t know that Lucian had just suffered his first heart attack the day before. Nico, shocked by the evidence of his father’s betrayal, had paid the money to protect his mother. That had been his first mistake. His second had been withdrawing the funds from the company account.
By the time he’d confided in Alex, it had been too late. An overzealous IRS agent had caught the discrepancy months later and an investigation had begun.
Alex and Nico had begun an investigation of their own during that time, after the security firm they’d hired had pegged Stanley Weaver as the probable blackmailer. That’s when Alex had gone undercover as Paige’s boyfriend, hoping to discover Stanley’s whereabouts and try to find the original of the explosive audiotape.
But nothing had turned out as they’d planned. And neither Alex nor Nico could reveal the truth behind the missing twenty thousand dollars. Not without breaking their mother’s heart.
If Lucian hadn’t died of heart complications three months ago, Alex might still be in jail. They’d let him out just long enough to tell his father goodbye. Just long enough for Lucian to extract a promise from both his sons to take good care of their mother.
A promise they both intended to keep.
With Lucian’s death, the investigation against Mackopoulos Imports came to a grinding halt. But it still took almost twelve weeks before the case was officially closed and Alex was released from jail. He certainly didn’t intend to go back again.
“I’ll talk to Paige myself,” Alex said.
“Are you sure?” Nico asked him, turning into the Embarcadero Center. “I’ll be happy to handle it for you.”
“I’m sure,” he said firmly.
Alex tried to ignore the thrill of anticipation in the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her all weekend. Despite the fact that she’d had him thrown in jail, he still wanted her.
In truth, he wanted her more now than when he’d been forced to leave her a year ago. But he still couldn’t tell her about the grand-jury proceedings. Or the contempt charges. Not without revealing everything.
Alex rubbed one hand over his face, realizing Paige would probably never let him near her again. But at least now he had an excuse. A reason to see her again. It was a step in the right direction.
Nico pulled up to the curb in front of Bay Bouquets. “Just let me know if she gives you any more trouble.”
“Thanks for the ride,” Alex said, climbing out of the Corvette. He didn’t want Nico within one hundred feet of Paige. The intensity of his possessiveness shocked him. It also made one thing perfectly clear.
He wanted Paige back. For real this time.
Alex walked into the shop as the Corvette spun away. The scent of roses hit him immediately and he remembered the day he’d come to pick her up here for their first date. He’d intended to approach the project without emotion, just like he approached his job as the financial manager for his father’s company. But those intentions had evaporated the first time Paige had smiled at him.
And he’d never recovered.
When Alex walked inside the shop, his arrival set off a door chime and he saw Paige’s mother, Margo Weaver, turn from the potted rosebush she was grooming to greet him.
But the moment she saw his face, she fell to the floor in a dead faint.
Alex rushed around the counter, kneeling down beside her. He picked up the pruning shears that lay partially beneath her, then softly called her name. “Margo?”
The sound of footsteps made him look up. He saw Paige gaping at him, horror in her big blue eyes as she looked at her unconscious mother on the floor, then at the pruning shears he still held in his hand.
“Get away from my mother!”
4
PAIGE CHARGED toward Alex as he straightened to his full height. Her heart raced in her chest, but she couldn’t completely blame that reaction on fear.
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” he exclaimed, holding his hands out helplessly. “I just walked through the front door. She took one look at me and hit the floor.”
Paige moved to place herself between him and Margo. “Then why are you holding those?”
Alex looked down at the pruning shears in his right hand as if he’d never seen them before. “They fell out of your mother’s hand when she fainted. I thought it might be dangerous to leave them on the floor in case she started to flop around or something.”
Paige knelt down beside her mother, telling herself not to trust him. Despite falling madly in love with Alex a year ago, she didn’t know anything about him. A fact that still nagged at her.
Margo moaned and Paige sensed Alex moving closer beside her. Her traitorous body reacted to his nearness, a strange tingling emanating from somewhere deep inside of her.
“Is she all right?” he asked in a low voice. “Should I call an ambulance?”
“No,” Paige replied, picking up her mother’s limp hand from the floor and rubbing it vigorously between her own. “She’s fainted before. It’s how she reacts to a shock.”
The last time had been the night her husband disappeared. Margo had taken Paige out into the backyard to show her the unusual burn marks in the lawn. While they were outside, her mother had come across Stanley’s pocket watch half-hidden in the grass, the one she’d given him on their wedding day. And she’d fainted dead away.
“You didn’t tell her I was back?” Alex asked. “Or why I left?”
Paige remembered her own shock at seeing him at the door of the apartment. “No. And I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell her, either. It’s bad enough everyone thinks you didn’t want to marry me. I’d prefer they didn’t learn you didn’t even want to date me.”
“That’s not true….” Alex protested, but another moan from Margo cut him off.
Paige kept rubbing her hand and soon Margo’s eyelids began to flutter.
“Mom?”
Margo opened her eyes and looked up at her daughter. “What…happened?”
“You fainted,” Paige replied, relieved to see some color flow back into her mother’s cheeks.
Margo’s gaze moved over her shoulder to where Alex stood. Her eyes widened. “He’s back.”
Paige reached for a large green florist’s sponge on the shelf behind her, then pillowed it gently beneath her mother’s head. “I know.”
Margo stared up at her daughter. “But how can you be so calm about this? It’s a miracle!”
“Not quite,” Paige said, reaching for her mother’s other hand. “Let’s try to sit you up.”
Margo shook off her help, then rose gingerly to her knees. “I’m fine. I just can’t believe they let Alex go.”
“They?” Alex intoned as Paige stifled a groan.
“The aliens who abducted you,” Margo explained. She grabbed the edge of the counter and hauled herself to her feet. “Just like my poor Stanley.”
Alex skittered a glance toward Paige and she knew he was about to suggest calling an ambulance again.
“Mom’s still a UFO buff,” she explained, brushing the floor dust off the back of her mother’s blue jumper. “She believes anyone who disappears under mysterious circumstances was the victim of alien foul play.”
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Kristin Gabriel
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: One year after being left at the altar, Paige Hanover has a new wardrobe, a new apartment and a new attitude. She′s going to take another chance on love…but the last man she expects to want that chance is her long-lost fiancé, Alex Mack. He′s claiming that it was all a mistake, that he never stopped loving her. But Paige isn′t about to be fooled again. Armed with the «man-magnet» skirt, she intends to break his heart this time. Only, she doesn′t know that the skirt′s powerful attraction can work both ways.…