Effortless
LYNN MONTAGANO
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HarperImpulse an imprint of
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First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2015
Copyright © Lynn Montagano 2015
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Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
Lynn Montagano asserts the moral right
to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
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Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
Ebook Edition © January 2015 ISBN: 9780007558445
Version 2015-02-10
For you, the reader.
Thank you for taking this journey with me. See you on the next adventure…
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EPILOGUE
Also by Lynn Montagano…
Also by Lynn Montagano…
Lynn Montagano
About HarperImpulse
About the Publisher
CHAPTER ONE
“Amelia Meyers.”
Julian Archer always announced my name so the entire newsroom could hear it even though we were in the confines of my office. Part of me liked the way it sounded wrapped in his Scottish accent. The other part of me knew he wanted something big. He perched himself on the edge of my desk and fidgeted with a pen. The brash, allegedly difficult host of The Archer Hour bubbled with excited energy. I leaned back in my chair, ready for whatever insane request he’d no doubt throw at me.
“We have Brent Garrison on this week.” His sharp blue eyes gleamed. I stifled an eye roll. I’d been dreading this week’s show since my first day of work here.
“He’s my biggest get all year and I expect nothing but perfection,” he continued. “Your track record so far is impeccable. Since you started our ratings have soared. This week should be no exception.”
Julian hopped off the desk and started pacing. Everything he did had a certain flourish to it. Tugging at his shirtsleeves, he spouted off another round of ‘expectations’ mostly to hear himself talk.
“It’s a five minute segment,” I interrupted. “Just stick to the talking points and you’ll be fine.”
“Be prepared to make changes if needed.”
“Be prepared to follow the rundown exactly as I’ve laid it out.” I lifted an eyebrow. “This isn’t the Brent Garrison hour. He’s part of one segment.”
Exhaling in dramatic fashion, he placed his hands on his hips and looked at me. “I don’t like being on a leash. Although I’ve grown quite fond of the way you tug at me.” His smile was flirtatious and gross at the same time. “Alastair Holden is a lucky man.”
Not a day goes by when Julian doesn’t invoke the name of my fiancé. Not that I minded too much. Anytime Alastair filled my thoughts was like being in heaven. Julian’s constant mentioning of his name was done out of pure determination. He wanted an interview with Alastair and he wanted it yesterday. I was the concrete wall he’d have to bust through in order for that to happen. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t about to budge.
“Tell that boyfriend of yours if he ever changes his mind about that exclusive—”
“—to call me,” I said in unison with him. “Don’t hold your breath waiting for the phone to ring.”
“Feisty.” He grinned.
After Julian finally left my office, I sighed and focused on the checklist of tasks I wanted to finish before noon. I had a standing lunch date with my best friend Stephanie Tempe and couldn’t wait to get out of the office for a little while.
Before that could happen though, I had my morning meeting with my news director, Sam Dunning and producer, Robbie Watson. They’d both welcomed me into The Archer Hour family with open arms before summarily throwing me out of the frying pan and into the fire. This program was in shambles when I’d started. There’d been a revolving door of executive producers, a lack of direction and a general feeling of apathy among the staff. The past few weeks had seen a drastic improvement but we still had a long way to go.
“Excuse me, Miss Meyers?”
I looked up and was greeted by my intern smiling shyly, holding several files.
“Mr. Dunning asked me to drop these at your desk. It’s for Friday’s show.”
“Thanks, Meredith.”
Robbie waltzed in several minutes later and we chatted on our way to Sam’s office. Unlike my old news director, Sam exuded an air of sophistication. Not one blond hair sat out of place on his head. He was younger than I’d expect someone in his position to be as well. My estimation put him at around thirty-four. Once he finished typing, he turned his attention towards us.
“Another brilliant show last Friday you two. The ratings are still at a steady climb. I think the program is finally getting the injection it needs.”
Our meeting was mostly spent brainstorming and planning. Sam was a sharp guy. He had some definite ideas of how he wanted the show to be presented and I thought he was on the right track. In the past, the news magazine program had been a frenetic series of over-dramatic, packaged stories. My thoughts on making it more focused and more conversational with viewers dovetailed nicely with his ideas.
We both wanted the hour to be designed around providing in-depth coverage of the week’s biggest headlines, but we also wanted to give the audience something unexpected. Turn the news on its head, so to speak.
Once I returned to my office, I threw myself in
to the week’s preparations. Seeing as I’d spent the majority of Sunday night awake, putting my brain to good use was therapeutic. Alastair had flown to London this morning and decided to keep me occupied most of the night. I smiled. My enigmatic Englishman did not have an off switch. Turning my attention to the files the intern had dropped off, I sifted through some of the pages. I’d barely read through the first one when my desk phone rang.
“Lia Meyers.”
“Don’t kill me but I have to cancel lunch. This day sucks balls and I’m not just talking about the non-stop cold and rain outside.” Stephanie sounded agitated.
“What’s the emergency now?”
“These layouts are stressing me out and I’m going to go cross eyed if I stare at them another second. Why did I take this job again?”
“Because you’re awesome and talented and you love it.”
She sighed. “I would give anything to go sit out in the sun for, like, the rest of the day. Can we fly back to Orlando this weekend? Alastair has a zillion planes. He won’t mind if we use one.”
“You ask him.”
“The guy can’t say no to you. We’ll have a more positive outcome if you do it.”
“Go back to work, Steph.” I laughed, ending the call.
A few minutes later, Meredith entered my office grinning widely and carrying a small box. “This just arrived for you,” she said, leaving the box on my desk.
My heart fluttered as I admired the warm, caramel colored wrapping paper. This was Alastair’s call sign. He liked to use this particular shade because he’d always told me how much he loved the rich, amber color of my eyes. I picked it up, smiling as the familiar pleasurable rush flowed through my body.
Opening it, I was mesmerized by the gorgeous platinum cuff bracelet nestled inside. Diamonds swirled in an elegant design, sparkling in the light.
“Wow,” I whispered, wanting nothing more than to kiss him endlessly. And it had nothing to do with the jewelry. Alastair Holden was the love of my life for far better reasons. To the rest of the world he was the wealthy orphan and heir to a mind numbing fortune who never let anybody see behind his well-crafted stoic exterior. Only I knew the true man behind the mask. And he was all mine.
I noticed a small slip of paper in the box and unfolded it. Written in his unmistakable, perfect block penmanship were the words WEAR THIS TONIGHT AND NOTHING ELSE.
A yearning filled me so fast and furious that I almost forgot to breathe. Flustered, I placed the cuff back in the box and focused on getting back to work.
* * *
I powered through lunch and into the late afternoon going through most of the files the intern had dropped off. A chiming echoed through my office, disrupting my flow. Confused, I looked for the source of the sound. It was my cell phone.
3:54pm How’s your day, kitten? Did you get my special delivery?
3:55pm I did. Meant to text you earlier. So beautiful.
3:57pm Yes, you are
4:00pm Still the charmer. How’s the board meeting?
4:01pm Still happening. I’m afraid I’ll be home very late tonight.
4:03pm That sucks. Everything OK?
4:07pm Mostly.
Frowning, I tapped a pen on my desk. I knew there had been some issues within the music division of Holden World Media recently. Sales were much lower than Samuel Holden thought were acceptable. Even though he was retired, he still gave Alastair an earful whenever he could. The company’s other areas -broadband, television and cell phones- seemed to be performing above expectations. I didn’t even pretend to understand what it took to run a huge corporation like that. All I knew was it weighed heavily on Alastair and forced him to work long, unforgiving hours.
I hadn’t noticed it as much when he was in Orlando with me because I’d been so wrapped up in my own drama. Since I’d moved here, seeing how much stress he was under broke my heart. I’d often wondered why his uncle, Jason, hadn’t been named CEO.
4:15pm Don’t work too hard, chief. Love you xx
4:22pm xx
* * *
The taxi dropped me off at Alastair’s house a little after seven. I still thought of it as his house because I hadn’t been here long and, well, it still felt like him. Translation: it remained pristine and sterile and lacking in any personal effects.
I plopped my handbag onto the couch in the living room and sighed. An idea hit me so fast I bounced up and down with excitement. Scurrying off to the bedroom, I flung the door to the walk-in closet open. A couple of boxes that had been shipped out here from my apartment in Florida sat beneath a wall of my clothes. I dragged them to the center of the floor and ripped off the packing tape. Inside were some of my framed photos that I’d had hanging on the wall in my living room. I rummaged through them and picked out a few. I also grabbed the flash drive that I’d filled with pictures before I’d tossed out my old laptop.
Trotting down the hallway to Alastair’s home office, I grinned like an idiot. Everything was in its place on his dark wooden desk. I moved a few files out of the way, making sure not to disrupt their order. I was pretty sure he’d arranged them in a specific way for the countless meetings he had each week. Pausing momentarily, I glanced at the cluster of photos hanging on his wall, focusing on the one of him as a sad little boy throwing leaves in the air. How far you’ve come, Holden.
After flicking on his laptop, a picture of him and me from the county fair we’d gone to in May appeared as the wallpaper. I melted. His gorgeous green eyes practically sparkled. So did his genuine smile. He was so beautiful it made my heart hurt. I looked content snuggled into his side. My smile matched his in brightness and almost muted the yellow sundress I’d worn.
“Okay, Meyers. Enough with the gawking,” I muttered to myself, sliding the flash drive into the USB port.
Craning my neck, I searched around the room to see where the printer was set up. After scrolling through dozens of photos, I printed out some of my favorites and put them in the frames. Back out in the living room, I placed a few frames on his end tables and a couple on the fireplace mantle. They warmed up the room and softened the impersonal aura that had lingered here for far too long. Inspired by my progress, I dashed to the home office and printed out one more photo. By the time I’d finished, his living room finally started to feel lived in.
Satisfied, I changed out of my work clothes into some yoga pants and a tank top, grabbed some leftovers and flopped onto the couch.
I wasn’t sure how long it would take for me to get used to Scottish programming. Sure, there were American shows sprinkled in but I wasn’t really into watching reruns of The Big Bang Theory or Frasier.
Oooh, reality shows. Fortunately, they were as popular here as they were back home so I settled in to revel in the food and mindless television. The couch was so comfy and the food was so carb heavy, I stretched out on the cushions.
* * *
The skin near my collarbone warmed from the gentle kisses brushing against it. I moaned softly, opening my eyes. The TV was off and the room was dark but I could see the outline of a figure hovering over me. I could also smell shampoo and body wash.
“Alastair,” I whispered, lifting my hands and finding his warm, damp body close to mine. He was naked. Wait, no, he had on a towel.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said in a low, seductive voice directly into my ear. “Sorry I woke you.”
“What time is it?”
“Late.”
“Did you shower?” I asked, distracted by his mouth on my neck.
“Yes. I see you’ve been busy.”
I have? Oh, right. The pictures.
He lowered himself so the full weight of his body pressed against mine and continued to kiss along my neck and shoulders. I attempted to hook my legs around his waist and inadvertently dislodged his towel.
“Do you like what I’ve done?” I asked, knotting my fingers through his damp hair.
His lips brushed mine, setting off all sorts of tingles and shivers. “Do I like t
hat you’ve gotten me naked? Yes. What do you plan to do with me?”
He kissed me long and slow, running a hand along my curves. My mind drifted into a wonderful, fuzzy oblivion as I traced my fingers down his athletic body, pausing just above the curve of his backside. His kisses became more insistent.
A low groan vibrated in his throat when I pushed the towel to the floor.
“My Lia.” The humid warmth of his breath tickled my skin. “Tell me all about your day.”
“Not much to tell,” I mumbled, stroking his lower back. The lovely kisses came to a halt as he lifted his head. My eyes were slightly more adjusted to the dark and I could see him staring at me. “Why are you stopping?”
“I missed you.”
I laughed. “So you’d rather stare at me than kiss me?”
“Cheeky. No present for you.”
The divine heat of his body disappeared when he pushed himself up off the couch. I watched him wrap the towel around his waist, wishing he’d left it on the floor. Seeming to read my mind, he grinned and draped it over his shoulder instead.
“You mean the one you sent me at work?” I asked, not making an effort to tear my eyes away from his naked body.
“No. I’m up here.”
I flicked my eyes up. “And your point is?”
He folded his arms with a wicked grin. “Give me two minutes and we’ll finish what we’ve started here.”
He flipped on a light before walking to the bedroom. I stared at his bare backside until he disappeared around the corner. I sat up, flustered and turned on and curious as to what he was up to. He reappeared, as promised, two minutes later dressed in boxers and a t-shirt.
“Why are you wearing clothes?” I asked, failing to hide my disappointment.
Fixing a dark stare on me, he flashed a sexy smile, reaching out his hand. “Come here, love.”
Effortless: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance Page 1
