Snow White Espionage (Barely a Fairy Tale Book 2)

by Maggie Dallen

  “Are you happy now?” she asked when they came up for air.

  He grinned. “Ecstatic.”

  She found herself struggling not to laugh again, just because she was too happy to keep it in. “Now can we get out of here?”

  “Absolutely.” He scooped her up into his arms and strode to the door, ignoring her laughing protests that this kind of behavior was not appropriate in the office.

  Grudgingly he set her down before opening the door. “After you, Snow White.”

  Jenna stopped in her tracks. “What did you just call me?”

  He clamped his lips together but she saw him struggling not to laugh.

  “You’ve been talking to Mackenzie, haven’t you?”

  He leaned down and kissed her on the nose. “I may have called her to find out where you’d be this morning. I didn’t know the name of your firm and didn’t have time to investigate.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes. “I’m sure Mack was more than happy to help you.”

  “Mmm,” he agreed. “Your former stepsister has some interesting thoughts about you and me.”

  Jenna laughed. “That’s a nice way of putting it. She’s been living in a fantasy world ever since she and Jacob got together. Now she wants the fairy-tale ending for everyone she loves.”

  He smiled down at her as he held the door open. “I don’t know. Happily ever after doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

  Jenna returned the smile as she took his hand and led him out of the office. “I suppose I could get used to it too. You know… eventually.”

  Epilogue

  Mackenzie sat on Jenna’s kitchen counter and watched Jenna unpack one of the boxes that Jacob and Hunter had brought in.

  “What happened to taking it slow?”

  Jenna sniffed and tilted her chin up. “He’s just moving in, we’re not getting married or anything.”

  “Uh huh.” Mackenzie looked highly amused and Jenna couldn’t bring herself to argue the point any further. So maybe they were moving quicker than expected. But they were also happier than she could ever have expected.

  They both had some trust issues to work through but they were getting there…together.

  “Where’s Rose Red? I thought you said she’d be coming over to help.”

  Jenna shot Mack a look. “Stop calling her that.”

  “She likes it.”

  “Andie is just being nice. She clearly hasn’t learned yet that you shouldn’t be too nice to crazy people.”

  “Very funny.” Mack hopped of the counter. “But where is she?”

  Jenna shrugged. “Something’s going on with her and that guy…I was going to call her today to find out more.”

  Mack’s eyes lit up.

  “Uh uh. You’re staying out of it. We both are. She’s just getting used to this sister thing.”

  Mack’s protests were cut short by Hunter and Jacob walking in. “You ready to go, hon?” Jacob asked. Mack nodded. “Sorry, guys, but we’ve got a hot date.”

  She and Hunter showed them out and when they shut the door behind them he turned to face her. “So…”

  “So,” she echoed. A rare flutter of nerves had her taking a deep breath. Moving in was a big step, after all. But it was right, she knew that. She’d gotten better at listening to her gut—a skill Hunter had helped her develop.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I guess this is my home now, huh?”

  And that was when she realized that he was nervous too. Because this was a big step and he was worried that she would bolt. Hadn’t she taught him anything? She closed the distance between them as she nodded slowly. “I love you, you know.”

  His smile was slow and seductive. “You’ve gotten awfully good at saying that.”

  She shrugged. “I’ve always been a quick study.”

  He reached out an arm and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her close. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

  “I know.” She smiled up at him and cast a quick glance around the apartment. “This is your home.” She placed a hand over his heart and met his warm, tender gaze. “And this is mine.”

  “That’s right,” he said as he dropped a soft kiss on the tip of her nose. “And don’t you forget it.”

  Thank you for reading Snow White Espionage! If you enjoyed it, reviews are greatly appreciated.

  Missed Mackenzie and Jacob’s story? You can find it here: Cinderella Blackmail

  Stay tuned for Andie’s story in Rose Red Rebellion, coming May 2017.

  To stay up to date on Maggie Dallen’s latest releases (and for giveaways, sneak peeks, and sale alerts), sign up for her monthly newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bFEVsL

  Keep reading for a free sample of Maggie Dallen’s romantic comedy, Less Than Three

  Less Than Three

  A Romantic Comedy

  Chapter 1

  IT WAS A butt-dialing disaster of epic proportions.

  It happened as Lacey scrambled to gather the last of her belongings from the hotel room. She’d said goodbye to her boss an hour earlier after wrapping up with their Chicago client, and he’d wished her luck, assuring her once again that she was ready to handle a client on her own.

  Lacey sucked in a deep breath. Not just any client. Newsom Industries was one of the biggest clients her firm had ever landed. It was only out of sheer luck that all of the other consultants were already booked and the plum job had landed in her lap. “You’re ready for this,” she muttered to herself.

  Her boss’s parting words had become a sort of mantra as she threw her belongings into her luggage. “You’re ready for this. You’re ready for this.”

  And then it happened.

  While leaning over to pick up a pair of undies, she somehow managed to sideswipe her phone. She grabbed it out of her back pocket and stared in horror as the screen lit up with Lawrence Newsom’s name.

  Lawrence Newsom III, as in the grandson of Lawrence Newsom, Sr., and the heir apparent to his family’s private jet empire. As in, her next client.

  She moved to hit the “end call” button, but she was a second too late. A deep voice on the other end said “Hello?” just before her finger hit its mark and the phone was silenced.

  Oh God. She’d hung up on him.

  Which was worse, butt dialing your new client or hanging up on him?

  Lacey debated calling him to apologize. No, that would make things worse. She’d just forget about it; he would never know it was her. She went to turn off the offensive piece of technology when it happened.

  She did it again. One of her fingers barely grazed the screen—the stupid, overly sensitive screen that was now lighting up again. She jabbed the “end call” button.

  Why had she let her roommate talk her into buying a new phone? Her old one was a piece of junk, but it never ever became possessed by the devil, unlike this new device.

  Tentatively, and with the utmost care, she reached over to turn off the phone and stick it in her bag. For a moment she thought she’d willed the phone to ring. But no, someone was calling her. He was calling.

  Maybe he knew it was her. Maybe they’d given him her cell number as well, and he’d programmed it into his phone. Unlikely.

  Maybe she should answer—explain the situation. She grimaced at the thought of such a terrible first impression. No, she would just let it go. Ignore, ignore, ignore.

  But as the phone’s ringtone pierced the air for a third time, panic set in. One more ring and her voicemail would pick up. He’d hear her chipper message saying, “Hi, you’ve reached Lacey Ames.”

  He’d know it was her; she had to pick up. She hit the answer button and opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What was she going to say?

  She drew in a deep breath, but he spoke first.

  “Hello? Who is this?”

  Lacey’s mouth opened and closed as she struggled to come up with something—anything—to put an end to this call.

  He sounded impatient when he spoke again. “I know you’re there,
I can hear you breathing.”

  Something like a squeak came out of her throat before she fumbled for the off button. She was panting as though she’d run a marathon.

  Now is not the time to panic. Think, Lacey.

  She would call him. That was the only answer. Even if he didn’t have her number now, he would soon enough. She had to come clean.

  She took a deep breath and reached for the phone. She jumped when it let out a dinging noise. It was a text. From him. Her sweaty palms fumbled to find the message.

  “Who is this?”

  She started to type in an explanation. Then she deleted it. She was on revision number three when the phone dinged again.

  “I figure there are three options: #1 You’re a stalker #2 you’re a secret admirer or #3 you got the wrong number.”

  Yes, yes, number three! This was her out. She’d tell him it was a wrong number and he’d drop it. This whole ridiculous episode would be over.

  She scrambled to type #3 and hit send.

  Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. This could not be happening.

  She tried to stop the message from sending and moaned in horror when her phone made a swishing noise that signaled the text had been sent.

  In her haste, she had mistyped. She’d hit the ‘less than’ symbol just below the pound sign. She watched in horrified fascination as the phone transformed ‘<3’ into a bright red heart emoticon.

  This could not be happening.

  Lawrence Newsom called again. No doubt to threaten his lunatic admirer with a restraining order. She answered and hung up. Five minutes later as she rushed out of the hotel room, she answered and hung up again.

  By the time she arrived at the airport she had hung up on Lawrence Newsom a total of six times and was in a perpetual state of fear that her phone would ring again.

  This was ridiculous. She couldn’t keep this up forever. What if he called when she was in the shower or fast asleep? He’d get her voicemail and assume that his new public speaking coach was a full-blown crazyface.

  She would disconnect her number. That was it. She would get a new number. But then her family and friends would have no way of reaching her. Her overprotective parents would have the National Guard hunting for her if she fell off the face of the earth.

  “Miss, this way please.” The driver who had dropped her off ushered her into a small waiting room in a hangar set apart from the main terminal. A beautiful man was already in there. Beautiful was not often a word she associated with men but in this case, it was fitting. He was long and lean, stretched out in a low-slung chair by the door. He had black hair and dark skin and the sort of features that sculptors loved.

  When he glanced up at her, she had to remind herself to breathe. Those eyes. They would have been a lovely shade of green on any face but set against the bronzed skin of a Greek god— they looked unreal.

  “Are you Lacey?”

  She nodded and let go of the handle of her suitcase. It promptly toppled over. If she was going to keep up this traveling saleswoman routine, she should invest in a good set of luggage.

  “Here, let me help you,” the god said.

  Beautiful and polite? He had to be gay.

  He maneuvered her lopsided suitcase so it was leaning against the wall and gestured toward the seat across from his. “You might as well get comfortable. We may be here for a while. No flights are taking off until the snow lets up.”

  “Oh.” She watched him turn his attention to the phone in his hand and wished she could think of anything interesting to say to hold his attention. Not for the first time, she had to marvel at the bitter irony of being a public speaking coach who was forever at a loss for words.

  “So do you, uh…do you work for Newsom Industries?”

  That earned her a half-smile and quite possibly the most adorable dimple in the universe. “Yes. I wear various hats there. Today I’ll be the pilot flying you to New York.”

  She nodded like an idiot. She assumed he would turn to whatever it was on his phone that was entertaining him but instead he stuck it in his pocket and shifted so he could lean back in his chair.

  Lacey fingered her own phone in her hand. Not even the presence of a god could keep her from the persistent fear that Lawrence Newsom would call again and get her voicemail.

  “You waiting for a call?” He nodded toward the phone in her hand.

  “Um, sort of.”

  The sound of the pilot’s phone ringing broke what was about to become an awkward silence.

  “Yeah, this is Alex,” the pilot said. Whatever the person on the other end said annoyed him because the Greek god pilot frowned. Was it possible he was even more beautiful when he frowned?

  He muttered a curse that made Lacey shift in her seat uncomfortably. “Is everything okay?” she asked once he’d hung up.

  He stood and picked up the overnight bag at his feet. “There’s another storm heading our way. We’re not going anywhere tonight.”

  He slung his bag over one shoulder, grabbed the handle of her suitcase and started walking out of the office.

  “Wait, where are we going?”

  He glanced over his shoulder and watched as she chased after him—not an easy feat in three-inch heels. “I’m taking you to the hotel. We should get there before the storm hits.”

  They caught the driver in time and hitched a ride to the city. Alex spent most of the car ride on the phone with someone at office headquarters giving details about their predicament.

  The pilot seemed severely put out by the change of plans but Lacey could barely conceal her relief. She was excited about the prospect of soloing with her first major client but she was also a ball of nerves. Now she had one more evening of respite before she was thrown to the wolves.

  She looked at the phone in her hand, which had been silent since she’d reached the airport. Lawrence Newsom seemed to have given up on his quest to figure out the identity of his stalker and hopefully it would all be forgotten by the time she arrived in New York the next day.

  “What do you mean, there’s only one room left?” Lacey was aware that her voice had entered the shrill territory and took a deep breath. The bored looking woman at the front desk looked unfazed by Lacey’s distress.

  Lacey pasted on a smile and tried a different tactic. “I stayed here last night. Can’t I have that room? Room 601?”

  The woman didn’t even pretend to check the computer. “That room is currently occupied. The only room available is the penthouse suite.”

  “We’ll take it.” Alex came up behind her and slapped his company card on the front desk. He looked amused by the look on her face. If everyone found her as funny as this guy did, she would quit her job and become a stand-up comic.

  “Relax,” he said. “It’s a suite. I’m sure there are plenty of places to sleep. Besides, I just called around and all the hotels near here are booked solid with stranded passengers in the same boat. We’re lucky to get a room at all.”

  Lacey gnawed on her bottom lip. “But a penthouse suite? That’s so expensive…”

  “The company is paying for it, remember? And it’s on my expense account, not yours. If anyone gets in trouble, it’ll be me.”

  That thought only made her feel worse. Twelve years of Catholic schooling had left her with a decent education and an overly developed guilty conscience.

  Apparently Alex misconstrued her concern because he leaned down so he could look her in the eye and gave her a reassuring smile. “Hey, I’m a good guy, I promise. I won’t lay a hand on you tonight.”

  Lacey’s cheeks burned as a delicious image of a half-naked Alex flashed through her mind. She thought he must have read her mind because he winked and leaned in closer so the front desk attendant couldn’t hear. “Unless you want me to.”

  He was joking. She knew he was joking. But that didn’t stop her stomach from doing a nervous backflip.

  She followed him into the elevator and down the hall to the suite, nervous at the thought of sharing a hotel
room with a perfect stranger.

  The suite was huge. Enormous even. But it only had one bed. An enormous king-size bed, but still just one bed. Lacey stared at it as though hypnotized by the down comforter’s floral pattern.

  Alex walked past her, tossed his bag on a leather recliner and flopped onto the bed. He crossed his arms behind his head. “So which side do you want? Left or right?”

  His teasing grin was too cute not to laugh. “Very funny.”

  He sighed in mock sadness. “Fine. I’ll take the couch.”

  Lacey perched on the end of the bed and looked around her. What were they supposed to do now? It was still early to go to sleep. What did two strangers do when they were stuck alone in a hotel room together? Watch TV?

  “Want a drink?”

  Alex walked over to the mini-bar and held up two tiny bottles of vodka.

  Lacey’s nod was so emphatic she nearly slid off the bed. Yes.

  The first drink went down quickly and went straight to Lacey’s head. “I think I’m going to head to the restaurant and grab some food. Do you want to come?”

  The restaurant was packed. A harried hostess informed them that it would be a twenty-minute wait. “We’ll just wait at the bar,” Alex said.

  And that was the end, as far as Lacey was concerned. An hour and two cocktails later, they were still waiting to be seated and she was far more than two sheets to the wind. But she was having fun. Oh, was she having fun.

  “So, let me get this straight,” Alex said. “Up until six months ago you were working as a waitress at a bar in San Francisco?”

  Lacey slurped up the last sip of her drink and nodded. “That is correct.”

  “And now you’re a life coach,” he finished.

  Lacey giggled. “I’m not a life coach, just a public speaking coach.” She rolled her eyes. “God, no one in their right mind would want me as their life coach. I can’t even get my own act together, let alone someone else’s.”

  Alex seemed to be studying her. “You seem to be doing all right for yourself.”