The Tycoon's Scandalous Proposition--A Marriage of Convenience Romance

by Miranda Lee

  ‘Speaking of movies,’ Kate said, ‘I’ve been thinking about my part and I have a suggestion to make. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘Good grief! Her first movie role and she’s already trying to change the script,’ he said, but he was laughing.

  ‘Not at all. I just don’t like the part where I reach for a cigarette. I mean, I hate smoking, and so do most people now. I know I’m supposed to be a bad girl in this movie, but her smoking doesn’t really add anything to the role and I’d rather not do it. Couldn’t I reach for a glass of champagne instead? That would be just as effective.’

  ‘I don’t see why not. Is that all?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Absolutely.’

  ‘Good. I’m not a man who likes it when actors try to change my scripts.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare.’

  He laughed. ‘I think perhaps you would. In time. God, I wish I didn’t have to go to this dinner tonight. I’d much rather be in bed with you.’

  ‘I’d rather you were in bed with me too.’

  ‘Have you booked your flight yet?’

  ‘Yes. I fly out late Friday evening and I get into LAX around six Friday evening your time. Australia is seventeen hours ahead of you, so I found out.’

  ‘It’s a non-stop flight, then?’

  ‘Yes.’ She gave him the flight number.

  ‘I’ll just write that down,’ he said. ‘You’ll be glad you’re flying business class.’

  ‘I still can’t believe Mum and Dad forked out that much money. Maddie’s going to be so jealous.’

  ‘How will she know? She’s in Europe on her honeymoon for the next month or so.’

  ‘That won’t stop her ringing Mum every day.’

  ‘I will never understand this obsession women have for talking on the phone all the time. I can’t stand it.’

  ‘You’re talking to me on the phone right now.’

  ‘You’re the exception to my rule. I like talking to you. Of course I’d prefer to be talking to you with your naked body next to me, but since I can’t have that, then I have to settle for this. Damn—it’s just occurred to me that I won’t be enjoying that privilege again for over four days. You wouldn’t consider catching a taxi here at around eleven tonight, would you? I should be finished with my business dinner by then. You could stay the night, perhaps?’

  It was tempting. Very.

  ‘I’m sorry, Blake, but I can’t do that. I told my mother I didn’t sleep with you last night and I couldn’t stand the next few days if she found out I’d lied. Which she would if I did what you’re asking.’

  ‘Fair enough. It’ll probably be better for the waiting. Anticipation is one of the best forms of foreplay.’

  She could believe that. She was already turned on, just thinking about being with him again.

  ‘Your silence betrays you, sweet Kate. Just think what we could have got up to tonight. There are so many things I want to do to you and haven’t done yet. We could have had such fun.’

  Kate was glad he couldn’t see her red cheeks. Or hear her thudding heart. But something—a kind of pride, perhaps—demanded that she did not let him think he could do whatever he liked to her and she wouldn’t object.

  Last night had been amazing, sexually, showing her how good it was to move on with her life, to put Lachlan behind her and find pleasure in another man’s body. But that didn’t mean she was going to become Blake’s mindless plaything. She did have a mind of her own and she aimed to use it.

  ‘There are things I want to do to you too, Blake,’ she countered coolly. ‘But, as you just said, it will be all be better for the waiting.’

  Now he was the one who was silent. But then he laughed—a low, sexily sardonic laugh.

  ‘I’ll meet you at the airport,’ he said, letting the matter drop.

  Kate’s independent mode was not easily dropped. ‘Won’t that be a bother? You’ll have to pay for parking, and maybe wait if the flight is late, or customs are slow. I could just as easily catch a taxi if you give me the address.’

  ‘Cab, Kate. In LA they’re called cabs.’

  ‘Oh. A cab, then.’

  ‘No, I’ll meet you,’ he insisted. ‘Carlos can drive me and wait somewhere until we’re ready to be picked up.’

  ‘You have a chauffeur?’

  She shouldn’t be surprised, but she was, which showed her that she hadn’t truly absorbed just yet how wealthy Blake was. The penthouse she’d spent last night in hadn’t been his, after all.

  ‘Not exactly,’ Blake replied. ‘Though I often use Carlos to drive me places. Carlos is my housekeeper’s husband. Her name’s Juanita. She does the cooking and cleaning. Carlos is handyman, gardener and sometimes chauffeur. They’re from Mexico, though they’ve lived in the USA for over twenty years. They came with the house and I thank God every day for them both. They’re a great couple. Good workers and always cheerful. I feel very blessed to have them.’

  Kate was taken aback by this last statement.

  ‘I didn’t know you were religious,’ she said.

  ‘What? Oh, the “blessed” thing. No, I’m not—but most of America is. I dare say I’ve picked up a few phrases.’

  ‘I rather like it. It’s sweet.’

  ‘Americans can be sweet. But sometimes their sweetness is only on the surface—especially in Hollywood, and especially in the movie business. Thankfully Carlos and Juanita didn’t come to LA to try their hand at acting. All they wanted, they told me, was a better life for themselves and their children.’

  ‘They have children?’

  ‘Unfortunately, no. They weren’t lucky that way. Juanita said they left it too late before they tried and then it didn’t happen. But they’re not bitter about it. They’re thankful for what they have.’

  ‘They sound like a great couple.’

  ‘Yes, you’ll like them.’

  ‘I’m sure I will. And I’m sure I’ll like Hollywood—no matter what dire warnings you give me. I can’t wait to get there.’

  ‘And I can’t wait for you to get there too,’ he said, with heavy irony in his voice.

  Kate laughed. ‘Will you stop that? Let’s talk about something else besides sex.’

  But even as she said the word it occurred to Kate that a man like Blake would rarely have to wait for the pleasure of a woman in his bed. Maybe he wouldn’t wait. Maybe when he got back to LA he’d ring up one of his lady-friends—he was sure to have heaps—and have her fill the gap in his sex life until Kate arrived on the scene.

  Jealousy jabbed at Kate. Yet it wasn’t the same kind of jealousy she’d used to feel about Lachlan and Maddie. Strangely, this was more disturbing—and infinitely more confusing. Because she didn’t love Blake the way she’d loved Lachlan. She didn’t love Blake at all! She liked him a lot—found him terribly sexy and quite fascinating. But she didn’t want to marry him or spend the rest of her life with him. She didn’t romanticise her feelings for him in any way. She saw them for what they were.

  Why the jealousy, then?

  Kate decided it was just her newly found feminine ego—the ego that thought her performance in bed last night had been oh, so good.

  Silly Kate. Don’t go thinking you’re anything special to Blake, because you aren’t. Your mother is right. There’s no such thing as a free lunch. Yes, Blake might want to help you with your career—he probably gets off on the idea of being a magnanimous mentor—but there is a price to be paid. In his bed.

  Just because you’ll love every minute of it, that doesn’t mean sleeping with Blake is without danger. What if you do fall in love with the man? It could happen now that Lachlan seems to be history.

  Never forget that Blake doesn’t want a real relationship with you, came the stern warning. There is no future with him—no prospect of you becoming a proper girlfriend. And if you can’t come to terms with that
before you go to LA then you’re a fool and you shouldn’t go.

  Kate resolved not to be a fool. Because nothing was going to stop her going to Hollywood.

  ‘What would you like to talk about?’ Blake asked.

  ‘Movies. What else?’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  BLAKE STOOD IN the arrivals area, close to the gate where Kate was due to emerge. Her flight had landed a good twenty minutes ago, but still there was no sign of her. Patience was not his strong suit, and his agitation was increasing with each passing second.

  And then suddenly there she was, pulling a black suitcase behind her, her eyes scanning the crowd for him. She didn’t see him straight away, giving Blake a thankful few seconds to drink her in unobserved.

  She was a sight for sore eyes, despite being dressed in sensible travelling clothes—stone-washed grey jeans, a white T-shirt and a black jacket. Hardly an outfit which would usually fire up his male hormones. But it did. As did everything else about her. Her hair was bundled up on top of her head in a haphazard style which he found extremely sexy, and her face was freshly made-up, bringing attention to her lovely dark eyes and wide, luscious mouth.

  Blake could not wait to get her home and alone. He’d had enough of just talking to her over the past few days, having spent more time on the phone to Kate than he had with any woman in his life—including his ex.

  Aside from their long discussions about movies and acting, he now knew more about Kate than he’d ever found out about Claudia. She’d told him all about her upbringing—including her not very happy days at school, when she’d been totally overshadowed by her younger’s sister vibrant personality, her self-esteem plummeting until she’d discovered acting in the school’s drama class. Once portraying another character, her confidence had soared. Though it had always shrunk again once she was off the stage.

  There had been no boyfriends for her—not until she’d met Tom, the boy who made the sets for the drama class, who had basically been as introverted as she was. Blake already knew that sex with Tom had been ordinary, at best. But at least she’d had a boyfriend for a while.

  Her meagre sexual experiences at university had been of a similar ilk. Then, of course, had come the fiasco with Lachlan. It pleased Blake that Kate could talk about Lachlan now with more pragmatism. Her rose-tinted glasses were well and truly off. Who knew? Maybe she was finally getting over the guy? He sure hoped so. She deserved better than a self-obsessed narcissist who would never love anyone as much as he loved himself.

  Suddenly she spied him, her face lighting up, her expression a mixture of joy and relief.

  He moved forward, all smiles, taking the case away from her. ‘You made it,’ he said, and bent to peck her on the cheek. Blake was not a big hugger and kisser in public.

  ‘Only just. My shoulder bag sparked off some machine and I was taken aside like I was a criminal. They emptied out all the contents and checked it over for drugs. It came back clear, of course. I mean, I would never do drugs. Still, I almost wet myself with terror whilst I was waiting.’

  Blake nodded in sympathy. ‘That happened to me once. Puts the wind up you, doesn’t it? Still, store that emotion for when you have to act a part that requires terror. Nothing is wasted when you’re an actor. Or a scriptwriter, for that matter.’

  Kate took the bag off her shoulder and sighed as she stared into it. ‘They just threw everything back in. My make-up is all over the place. And they’ve squashed up the magazine I bought.’

  She pulled it out. Blake recognised the beaming couple on the cover immediately. He would hardly forget that bride and groom in a hurry. Clearly Maddie hadn’t either, no matter how pragmatic their conversation over the phone. The headline caught his eye too: Hunky Aussie Actor Weds.

  ‘I couldn’t resist,’ she said a little sheepishly. ‘I saw it on a stand at the airport in Sydney and just had to buy it.’

  An emotion Blake wasn’t overly familiar with grabbed at his insides. It took him a split second to recognise it as jealousy.

  Blake had experienced jealousy when Claudia had dumped him for that Hollywood fat-cat—along with fury and confusion and a whole raft of other conscience-blasting emotions.

  He hadn’t been able to think straight, but his arrogant male ego had refused to let him cry, or get counselling for his hurt. Instead he’d behaved badly, working his pain out by indulging in revenge sex with a couple of actresses who had made a play for him.

  Thankfully, neither of them had been the type to suffer from a broken heart afterwards, but one of them had told him in no uncertain terms what she thought of his callous attitude the morning after. It had been a sobering experience, and one which he’d taken to heart. After that he’d been more careful with women, always making it clear that dating him wasn’t a long-term proposition. He was into flings and affairs, not relationships.

  He had had what might be termed a girlfriend or two since his divorce, but nothing serious. He certainly had never invited a girl to stay at his place for more than a night.

  Or he hadn’t until Kate had come along.

  It worried him now...what he was getting himself into with this girl. If he didn’t know better he might think he was falling in love. Which would never do. If and when he was foolish enough to fall in love it wouldn’t be with someone who’d spent the last four years of her life dreaming of another man. For all he knew Kate was still dreaming of him. She might talk big about moving on, but she’d bought that magazine, hadn’t she? Had probably spent hours during the flight admiring photos of him and wishing she were in Maddie’s place.

  ‘Not that I really wanted the damned thing,’ Kate went on. ‘I was just curious. I also hoped there would be some pictures of you and me—but, no, they were all of Lachlan and Maddie. Typical.’

  And without a backward glance, she tossed the magazine into a nearby bin, before throwing him a remorseful glance.

  ‘You didn’t want to look at it, did you?’

  Blake could have kissed her. She wasn’t pining for that fool, and the thought brought him a type of joy which might have worried him if he hadn’t been so relieved.

  ‘I’ve already seen the photos, Kate. As soon as that magazine came out they were all over social media.’

  ‘Oh, yes. I imagine they are. I’m not into social media. But Maddie is.’

  ‘And Lachlan as well. He’s an incorrigible show pony. Can’t say I’m overly keen on the way technology has gone. But it’s the way of the world, Kate. Speaking of technology,’ he went on ruefully, and whipped out his phone, ‘I’ll just text Carlos and tell him to make his way to the pick-up point.’

  ‘And I’ll text Mum and Dad—let them know I’ve arrived safely.’

  They both finished together, and Kate turned her phone off before dropping it back into her bag. Blake slipped his phone into his pocket, then took her elbow.

  ‘Let’s go.’ Blake pulled her suitcase along behind them. ‘I have a web page, of course,’ he continued as they walked companionably together. ‘And various other links which my PA attends to. But that’s for business only. I like to keep my personal life to myself.’

  ‘I do too. I don’t understand why ordinary people—not celebrities—take photos of everything they do, even the most mundane things, then post it somewhere on the internet for people to see. I just don’t get it.’

  ‘I suppose it’s a form of entertainment. And it makes them feel important. Like they’re celebrities.’

  ‘But it opens them up to criticism and bullying.’

  ‘True. But that’s become a fact of modern life, too. Social media isn’t going to go away, so you might as well embrace it. You have to develop a thick skin, Kate, if you want to be a success in Hollywood. Because if and when that happens you’ll be criticised to death over everything from your clothes to your weight and whoever you have by your side. You’ll be stalked by the paparazzi
and your life generally won’t be yours.’

  Kate stopped and stared at him. ‘You make success sound so attractive!’

  Blake shrugged. ‘It’s a sink-or-swim existence, being in the spotlight, but it can be very exciting. Though only if you don’t let it go to your head...like someone who will remain nameless.’

  ‘Oh, I suppose you mean Lachlan.’

  ‘Lachlan who?’ he said, with just a touch of malice. ‘Ah, here’s our ride.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  KATE GAPED WHEN a white limousine braked abruptly at the kerb, next to where they were standing.

  ‘Oh, my goodness!’ she exclaimed, both impressed and slightly overawed.

  Blake grinned at her. ‘When in Rome, you know...’

  The driver—a short, middle-aged man with black curly hair and swarthy skin—jumped out from behind the wheel, flashing Kate a welcoming smile before grabbing her suitcase.

  ‘Better get inside, boss,’ Carlos said, with only the slightest accent. ‘The Indians are circling.’

  ‘What does he mean?’ Kate said as Blake yanked open the back door.

  Just then a photographer stepped forward from Lord knew where and snapped a couple of shots of them both. Blake didn’t say a word, just hustled Kate into the limo, throwing the photographer a big smile before climbing in after her and shutting the door. By this time Carlos was back behind the wheel and they were soon off.

  ‘Carlos, this is Kate,’ Blake introduced. ‘Kate, this is Carlos.’

  ‘Hello, Carlos.’

  ‘Welcome to LA, Kate. Sorry I was a bit slow picking you up, boss. Friday evenings, you know... Lots of comings and goings.’

  ‘No sweat, Carlos. If I didn’t want to be photographed then I shouldn’t have had you drive up in a limo.’

  Carlos laughed.

  ‘You didn’t mind us being photographed?’ Kate asked Blake.