Adored: A Love Letters Novel

by Kristen Blakely

  Leon looked straight into the cameras. “We’d like some privacy, if you don’t mind,” he said, but the encouraging smile he wore made a lie of his words.

  Bastard. Maggie kept her pace steady. The swarm of people blocking her path folded back to avoid getting run over.

  Leon’s hand tightened on her hip. He leaned in close as if to kiss her cheek, but his voice whispered in her ear. “What’s the rush, babe? Can’t you see they want us to play it up?”

  She placed her hand on his hand, her gesture casual, even friendly, but her fingers pried his fingers off her hip.

  Surprise and alarm flashed across his face. His hand dropped away, but he stayed close as she pushed her way through the paparazzi and into her condominium complex.

  Leon shot her an assessing glance as they stepped into the elevator together. He kept his voice casual. “Thank God, we’re rid of that bunch.”

  She tilted her head. “Really? That’s not the impression I got from your flirting with them.”

  “My what?”

  “You’re playing up to them, Leon. You want the attention, fine. I don’t, and I don’t appreciate being used to attract the spotlight.”

  He frowned. “What’s the problem? We’re celebrities. You know this is part of the deal, the price of fame.”

  She sighed. Leon was right. He was no different, really, from most of the other celebrities she had dated—actors, singers, athletes, even some models, like herself. The spotlight was the key to staying relevant, and there was no worse sentence than being a non-relevant celebrity.

  For now, for all that she despised the spotlight, she was still relevant. At some point, she would not be—female models had notoriously short careers—and then what would she do? The flicker of panic over an undefined future grew stronger every day.

  Maggie stopped in front of her door and turned to face Leon. “Thank you for dinner.”

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in? A nightcap, or something more?”

  “I have an early morning shoot tomorrow.”

  “Just a quick drink, then, to round out the evening.”

  “I’m not in the mood for it, Leon. Thank you for bringing me home. Your chauffeur is waiting.”

  “Hang the chauffeur.” Leon waved a hand at the front of the building. “The paparazzi’s camping out there—not just the tabloids, but mainstream media too. I walk out now, and they’ll know I didn’t bed you.”

  Maggie’s eyes widened. “Is that what’s bothering you? You want people to think you slept with me?”

  “Of course. How many hits do you think my reputation can take? I haven’t done a movie in a year. I’m fading out of the spotlight, Marguerite. If people learn that you turned me down, it’s going to make the headline news.”

  She shook her head wearily. “No, not really. No one cares that much who I sleep with.”

  “Yes, they do. If you don’t think so, then you haven’t been reading the news enough. Let me in. I insist. You owe me.”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “Dinner doesn’t buy you access to my apartment or to my body.”

  Leon’s eyes narrowed, and then he inhaled sharply and seemed to relax. His tone came out wheedling instead of belligerent. “You can’t send me away. Those piranhas out there will eat me alive.”

  He did have a point. Maggie walked down the corridor and peeked out of the window overlooking the front entrance. The paparazzi showed no inclination of leaving. Darn. She thought hard for a moment, and then reached for her smartphone and dialed a number.

  Vera Rios picked up the phone on the other end moments later. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Vera. It’s Maggie Ferrara.”

  “Hey, Maggie.” Vera’s voice warmed. “You’ve called my cell phone. Did you want to talk to Rowan? He’s in the living room—”

  “No, I wanted to talk to you. I need a favor.”

  “Okay?”

  “There’s a bunch of paparazzi camping outside my condo. I need to lure them away.”

  “And you’re hoping Rowan will volunteer for the job?”

  Maggie grinned. That Dr. Vera Rios was a smart cookie.

  Vera continued. “You know he’s not fond of the paparazzi.”

  “I know, and that’s why I’m calling you, not him. Do you think that maybe you could convince him to take a walk by the front of my condo? They’ll follow him. He’s hotter news than I am—supermodel, new baby, all that stuff.”

  Vera laughed, a sparkling sound. “So now you want to use my daughter as bait too?”

  “Babies are pretty bait. Please, Vera. I really need this favor.”

  “Well, Brianna’s fussy tonight, and a walk usually settles her down. I suppose I can convince Rowan to take a stroll outside.”

  “You won’t tell him, will you?”

  “And now you want me to lie to my husband?” Vera’s tone had an edge of mock sternness. She laughed again. “No, of course I won’t tell him, but it won’t take him too long to figure out that you’ve sicced the paparazzi on him. Hang in there. We’re on our way.

  Vera was as good as her word. Less than fifteen minutes later, the paparazzi in front of Maggie’s building scurried across the street to accost a couple pushing a stroller and the little girl skipping alongside them. The man swept the little girl into his arms, his stance protective. Maggie flinched guiltily. She could not hear the buzz of conversation from behind the glass, but as she had predicted, the reporters followed Rowan Forrester, no doubt peppering him with questions about his wife and his two daughters.

  Maggie waited until the crowd vanished around the corner. She turned to Leon. “The front’s clear. You can leave now.”

  He flashed a smile that had charmed thousands of women. “You’re not going to send me off now, are you? Not after you went to so much effort for me.”

  That time she could not disguise the eye roll. He was missing the point. She went through all the effort to get rid of him, not keep him. “Please, go.”

  Leon frowned. “You’re not serious, Marguerite.”

  “Deadly serious. I want you to leave, Leon.”

  He gripped her upper arm. “You can’t just send me away. You knew, when you accepted my dinner invitation, we would end up in bed.”

  She gaped at him. “A dinner invitation is a dinner invitation. Did you think you could buy me with steak and wine?”

  “Can’t I?” Leon stared at her through narrowed eyes. He slid close to her. His warmth stifled her; his cologne assaulted her senses. He caressed the back of his other hand against her cheek. “You take a different man home each night of the week. You’re such a tease.” His hand glided down along the length of her neck and traced the upper curve of her breast. His voice thickened; its husky edge reeked with lust.

  Trembling with anger, she shoved him away. His vice-like grip on her arm gave way, but not without tugging painfully against her flesh. She clutched her handbag to her chest. “You will leave now or you’ll be in the headlines tomorrow, and it won’t be good.”

  Like a petulant child deprived of a favorite toy, Leon’s handsome face twisted into a scowl. “Tease is too good for you.” He bared his teeth in a mocking grin. “You’re a slut. Can’t believe I wasted my time on you.”

  He stalked away. Maggie did not turn her back on him until the elevator doors closed behind him. Her hand shook as she slid her key into the lock and pushed open the door to her condominium. Darkness, warm and comforting, enveloped her. She kicked off her high heels and sank down on the couch.

  The heavy pressure against her chest caused her eyes to sting.

  Damn it. She pressed her lips together to hold back the tears.

  Drew Jackson’s familiar face flashed through her mind. Her pulse jolted. Her heartbeat raced. She clung to the image—his unyielding expression, his firm, unsmiling mouth, and the kindness in his brown eyes that made a lie of his stern façade.

  At least he doesn’t know. That thought gave her comfort.

  Or care. />
  That thought wrecked her.

  Continue your journey through Love Letters with BETRAYED.

  Love Letters

  ADORED

  Gratefully divorced and not looking.

  Well, okay, maybe just peeking.

  Single parenthood to a two-year old toddler and a full-time job doesn’t leave me with any time to find Mr. Right. Not that he exists. But when a sexy male escort walks into my volunteer clinic for his annual checkup, I’m startled—okay, fine, tempted—into accepting his invitation.

  Rowan Forrester’s model-gorgeous looks are the least of his attributes; he’s like no other man I’ve ever known. His single-minded attentiveness boosts my shaky confidence. I know better than to believe his interest is genuine, but his easy sincerity is irresistible. his fantasy can’t last—after all, he’s an escort—but I can’t turn away from someone who adores my daughter and makes me believe in love again.

  But when the truth of his past finally catches up with him…with us…it crushes my fragile hope for a future together. And it’s entirely up to me if I’m going to allow it to destroy our love...

  BETRAYED

  I can turn every man’s head…except his.

  I command attention on the haute couture catwalks of Milan, Paris, and New York, but whenever I’m face-to-face with Drew Jackson, I feel like a gawky thirteen-year-old again—in love with a superstar who will never see me as anything more than his younger brother’s ex-girlfriend.

  I tell myself Drew’s no longer a superstar. A long-ago car accident shattered his knee and destroyed his football career. What is he compared to the celebrities who whirl me through one-night stands or Tyler, the brilliant and witty social media maverick who is determined to win my love?

  Drew’s just…Drew. All logic and rationality aside, I want him.

  When betrayal knocks me off my supermodel pedestal, it’s a long way to the bottom. Will my tenuous friendship with Drew survive my career, my fame, and the rocky transition to love?

  CRUSHED

  I need a rescue, but he’s not the hero I want…

  Losing my job wouldn’t have fazed me.

  Losing my brother and then my job almost broke me. I’m down to my last hundred dollars and ready to accept help in any shape or form when Cody turns up on my doorstep with a job offer. And not just any job offer.

  My dream job.

  I can’t accept. I’m not that desperate.

  Because I know Cody.

  He’s the daredevil black sheep of the esteemed Hart clan, and should never have made it to his twenty-fifth birthday. What he probably hadn’t counted on, though, was his best friend dying instead of him.

  His best friend. My brother.

  I’m out of options, but nothing on Earth could possibly entice me into the arms of the man who killed my brother.

  About the Author

  “Heart, Humor, Heat, and Happiness…”

  At 4 a.m., when her husband and three sons are asleep, Kristen Blakely weaves unforgettable characters into unexpected stories.

  Love Letters, starting with Adored, features Kristen's contemporary romance series, which proves that, at the very least, she knows how to alphabetize books.

  Kristen's devious plan for world domination begins with making all her readers as sleep deprived as she is.

  LOVE LETTERS by KRISTEN BLAKELY