Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

by Milly Taiden

  “Mr. Mortimer. Can I see what he looks like?”

  Ellis juggled through the file folders and pulled out a photograph. “Here he is. Meet Evan Mortimer—billionaire. Must be nice, huh?”

  “I guess.” Bella chewed on the end of her hair thoughtfully as she looked over the photograph. It showed a man in his early thirties with dark hair and cool, assessing eyes. He had a strong face that spoke of a sharp mind and decisive personality. He looked to be an impressive adversary.

  Suddenly this all felt like a very, very bad idea.

  “That ain’t a man, that’s a monkey,” Jamie pronounced, looking over her shoulder. “Look at that getup he’s wearing. No way he can do an honest day’s work in that. You ought to marry a cowboy, Bella. Don’t we know anyone?” He looked meaningfully at Cab, the only single one of the bunch.

  “Leave Cab alone,” Ethan drawled. “He’ll get married sooner or later.”

  “Emphasis on later,” Rob said. “The man’s slower than molasses.”

  “Who you calling slow?” Cab said.

  “Time, people,” Madelyn snapped. “We have a lot of ground to cover.”

  Bella tried to ignore the cowboys and listen to the woman’s description of the shooting schedule, the types of contests she might face and a list of rules that seemed endless, but her attention kept returning to Evan’s photograph. Despite Jamie’s assessment of his suit, he was very handsome.

  What if she lost? Could she really marry this man and spend a year with him? Would he expect her to sleep with him during that time? She felt her cheeks begin to heat—it had been a long time since she’d slept with anyone; she wasn’t sure she knew what to do anymore. He seemed so self-assured, he probably knew exactly what to do, and he’d quickly become bored with her limited repertoire of sexual moves.

  Whoa. Earth to Bella; you’re not going to sleep with him, no matter what.

  She gave herself a little shake. She definitely wouldn’t sleep with someone she married after losing a contest. That was ridiculous.

  And besides, if she lost it meant she’d have to close the clinic for good. She’d only been able to open it in the first place because she’d received a small inheritance. That was long gone, so once she shut down—even temporarily—it would be just about impossible to start it up again.

  Her stomach sank at the thought. She’d lived through her parents’ money troubles and knew how awful that was. She’d have to go to work for someone else—like her brother, Craig. She’d be an employee rather than her own boss, and if he mandated a time limit that abandoned animals could stay in the pound, she’d have to euthanize the ones that overstayed their welcome. She couldn’t bear that.

  And she couldn’t bear being around horses, either—not close up like Craig was on a daily basis. Horses reared and tried to smash you to bits. They bit and kicked and threw their riders. She hadn’t been able to go near a horse since the day Caramel died.

  The gunshot rang again through her mind. The bullet that had ended Cyclone’s life. That was her fault, too. If only she had listened to her father, both Caramel and Cyclone would have lived. Her father would have made a mint on Cyclone’s stud fees.

  They wouldn’t have had to sell half the ranch that had been owned by Chathams since the 1800s.

  “Do you understand what I’ve said?” Madelyn asked, breaking into her reverie, and Bella had the awful feeling it wasn’t the first time she’d repeated the question.

  “Yes—of course!”

  Madelyn gave her a long look. “Take a minute to read over the contract. One minute—we’re already very behind. Ellis, call the camera crew—see when they’re arriving.”

  When Bella glanced over at the receptionist’s desk, Hannah waved her notebook—now full of notes—and Bella breathed a sigh of relief. She had to pay attention from here on in. What happened during the next seven days could determine the course of her life. One thing she knew for sure—she couldn’t become Mrs. Evan Mortimer. Because if she did, most of the animals she loved would die.

  *

  “Jasper National Park? In Canada?” Evan said into his cell phone as he pulled together notes for his next meeting.

  “Yep. Canada. It’s supposed to be gorgeous,” Amanda said.

  “Hell, what’s wrong with Yosemite? I could be there in a few hours.”

  “Yeah, and you know it like the back of your hand—unfair advantage.”

  Exactly his point. He’d take all the unfair advantages he could get if it meant he could marry Betty Bumpkin the cowgirl and get the board of directors off his back. “So—wilderness challenges, that kind of thing?”

  “Most likely. I’ve generated a list of the challenges they’ve thrown at contestants in previous years. There’s nothing here you can’t handle.”

  He felt pretty confident about that. He was an expert cyclist, a strong sailor, he’d been skiing since he was ten years old and he was even a fair hand at rock climbing. He hadn’t tackled Half Dome yet, mind you, but he was getting there.

  “All right. When are they picking us up?”

  “Five o’clock. I’ll have your bags and passport ready.”

  “Fine—you’ve made sure my phone has coverage in Canada?”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. “Evan, didn’t you pay attention when I read you the rules? Once you get on their plane, you can’t have any contact with the outside world, remember? That includes me.”

  Something in her voice told him she was looking forward to the break, and the thought stung him. He talked to Amanda on the phone far more than he saw her in person, but she was part of his day-to-day life—an invisible genie smoothing the road before him in a million different ways. He guessed he couldn’t blame her for wanting some time off—she was really too old to work as hard as she did, although if anyone said so she’d be the first to eviscerate them. Evan swallowed the feeling of abandonment that swelled his throat for some unaccountable reason.

  “All right; I’m heading into my last meeting right now. I’ll be ready to go at five.”

  “Go get her, killer. You can take that cowgirl.”

  “Damn straight. Get ready to meet the wifey, Amanda.”

  “I hate her already. Good luck.”

  And she was gone. Evan clicked off the phone and stared out at the view. He’d never been to Canada before—something of an oversight, now that he thought of it. He called up a browser on his computer and checked out the Jasper National Park website. Looked pretty cool. Maybe he’d get some climbing in.

  Seven days away from work, without even a cell phone to keep him tied to his desk. Evan straightened with new determination. This would be fun.

  Yeah, right.

  ***

  CHAPTER THREE

  Bella climbed out of the SUV and stared at the rustic lodge in front of her. She felt off-balance from the hours of travel behind her. First the plane ride to Calgary and a night spent in a passable hotel by the airport. Next, she’d been hustled into the SUV and driven 298 miles to Jasper, via Banff. The scenery along the Icefields Parkway between the two towns in the Canadian Rockies was jaw-dropping, and she’d wanted to beg the driver to stop at least once at one of the many viewpoint turnouts, but other than a brief layover for lunch at the Num-Ti-Jah Lodge they drove straight through.

  The rules of the Can You Beat a Billionaire television show forbade her from bringing a cell phone or camera, and it killed her to watch glacier-fed lakes, spectacular mountains and wildlife of every description slip past without snapping a shot. I’ll come here again, she promised herself, and nearly snorted out loud. She was broke—about to lose her business and her home. If she wanted to go sightseeing again in this lifetime, she’d better win the show.

  She’d better win if she wanted to stay single.

  Her thoughts drifted back to the conversation she had with Madelyn at the airport the night before, and her lips thinned with distaste. Madelyn Framingham wasn’t even human. The way she played with people’s lives
and apparently relished pitting them against each other—there was something grisly about that. The director had taken her aside as they waited to board the network’s corporate jet.

  “You’ve probably considered throwing the show,” she announced.

  “Why would I throw it?” Bella had no idea what she meant.

  “Marrying a billionaire? Probably sounds like a dream come true to a girl from the sticks.”

  “Uh…not really,” Bella said. “I’m not looking for a husband, I’m looking for money.” Aside from saving her business, she would finally be able to pay her father back for the land he’d lost. Only then would she feel like she’d made up for the damage she’d caused him all those years ago.

  Maybe he’d forgive her.

  “Right. I don’t believe you,” Madelyn said. “So let me make it clear. If Evan wins, you will sign an ironclad prenuptial agreement so when he divorces you after a year you will walk away just as poor as you are today.” She leaned closer, her scarlet lips inches from Bella’s face. “He’s looking for a prop, not a partner. In order to remain in control of his family’s business he must be married for a year. So don’t get excited…and don’t think you can profit from throwing the show.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Bella said, rounding on her. “You think I’d give up five million dollars to be Mrs. Evan…Whatever his name is? That’s insane!” Even if the man was as handsome as a rugged movie star.

  “What’s five million compared with five billion?” Madelyn arched an eyebrow. “Surely you’re smart enough to do the math.”

  “I wouldn’t want five trillion if it came with a man attached to it.” Bella shook her head at the woman’s stupidity. And she was the one in charge of this show?

  Madelyn considered her, a calculating look in her eyes. “You’re really that dead set against marriage? Even to a guy like Evan?”

  “Hello—if I lose, it’s bye-bye Chance Creek Pet Clinic! What do you think happens to all the animals living there? You think magically they’ll all get adopted? Even the ones missing a limb or an eye or maimed by the neglect of their previous owners? No—they won’t. They’ll be killed. Murdered! And people like you won’t even bat an eyelash. Just another dead kitten—no big deal! Who cares about that puppy—I want more wedding cake!”

  Bella knew she was losing it. A number of people in the corporate waiting room had turned to stare at her as her voice raised, but she couldn’t help it. She’d never been away from the clinic for a single night since she’d accepted her first batch of unwanted puppies, and now she’d been gone for eighteen hours. What if something happened and her brother was too busy to come and help?

  A wave of panic crashed over her, and suddenly she knew for certain disaster had struck back at home. Hannah couldn’t handle emergencies like she could, and her brother would never prioritize a pet over a useful animal, as he termed horses and cows.

  “Give me your phone.” She snatched at Madelyn’s state-of-the-art device. “Give it to me—I need to call the clinic!”

  Madelyn looked over her shoulder and made a strange, rolling gesture with her right hand. Bella turned to follow her gaze and was horrified to see that the camera crew had crept up behind her to film this interchange. She looked up and ducked in alarm at the microphone boom one portly crew member dangled over her head.

  “What the hell? What are you doing?” Crimson with rage and humiliation, Bella ducked and covered her head with her arms. Damn it, she must look and sound like an utter fool, and they were planning to broadcast that? Now she understood all too well what she’d let herself in for. She would have to be in perfect control for the next seven days and never betray her true thoughts to the show’s producers or its audience. She couldn’t let them turn her into a laughing stock or ruin in her life.

  If they hadn’t already.

  “Cut!” Madelyn said with a sigh. “We’re filming back story. Our viewers want to know what makes you tick and I think we just found out. You care more about those animals than you care about your own sex life. Kinda sad, but makes for great television. There’s our plane. Come on, everyone—get your gear together. We’ll board in ten minutes.”

  Now, viewing their first night’s rustic accommodations, Bella wondered for the thousandth time how she’d survive this week. If she won, she’d have smooth sailing for the rest of her life and the means to save thousands of animals. If she lost, she’d lose everything—including herself, body and soul, for a year to a man who cared for nothing except making money. What a lonely, awful year it would be as the puppet wife for a callous, jaded businessman. And then what would she do? She’d have to go home to her parents, her tail tucked between her legs until some other veterinary clinic took pity on her and hired her on.

  Maybe she could move to a larger town where the pound was separate from the veterinary clinics and she wouldn’t have to see the animals who were doomed to die.

  She’d know they were out there, though. And she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Chance Creek.

  She had to win. That was all there was to it. No matter what, she had to win.

  *

  Several hours later, Evan stepped out of a second SUV and surveyed the log-framed lodge before him. As he took a long breath of the fresh mountain air, he acknowledged that this break from work was probably good for him. He’d return sharper, clearheaded.

  He’d return with a wife.

  She was in there somewhere, he thought as he ran his gaze over the rustic exterior of the lodge. A crew member informed him she’d arrived earlier and was already ensconced in her room. They’d meet over dinner tonight and hear a last round of rules and directions from Madelyn Framingham, and the taping would begin tomorrow morning at eight.

  Would she be as lovely as her photograph?

  What would their wedding night be like?

  He knew he needed to keep his mind on the contest to come, but the idea of a wedding night had preyed on his mind during the long ride to Jasper. His situation had made him a loner and he missed female companionship more than he’d admitted to himself. Generally he was too busy to give his choice to remain single a second thought, but he wasn’t a monk, and Bella was beautiful.

  If they were man and wife they’d have to spend time together, right?

  He hadn’t actually planned on that. He’d figured he’d set her up in one of his extra bedrooms, and spend more time than usual in his laboratories and on his trips. They’d barely need to see each other, except for the occasional public appearance to make it all seem on the up-and-up.

  Now, however, he was rethinking that strategy. With the question of marriage and money already solved, maybe he and Bella could enjoy each other’s company. Get to know each other.

  Have some fun.

  Something stirred to life within him; a part of himself he’d done his best to ignore for quite a long time. Would Bella be different from the women he’d known? Could the two of them get beyond his money to the things that really mattered?

  No. No woman had ever gotten past his money. Bella would be the same as the rest of them; why else would she go on a show like Can You Beat a Billionaire?

  “Evan Mortimer. Welcome to Jasper!” Madelyn’s jarring voice brought him back to the present.

  “Madelyn. Good to see you again.” He put the image of Bella out of his mind. This was just another business transaction.

  “Come right in. Your room is ready for you. Dinner will be in one hour and we’ll let you get some rest.”

  *

  Bella smoothed her hands over the long denim skirt she wore, paired with a mint green shirt and leather sandals. She’d been instructed to bring clothes suited for intense outdoor activities, plus one casual but dressy outfit for this first dinner. She hoped she’d gotten it right. She wore simple, small hoop earrings and a silver bangle bracelet as her only jewelry, and she’d kept her makeup light. All in all she looked neat and fresh, she thought as she fluffed her hair. She wore it down around her s
houlders in soft waves for this occasion. She planned to return to her usual pony-tail for the rest of the contest.

  Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse, turned out the lights and let herself into the hall just in time to hear the clack of Madelyn’s unmistakable high heels. Would she wear them when they got to the outside portions of the show?

  “You’re dressed, good. Let’s get you to makeup.” Madelyn waved her along the corridor.

  “I’ve already done my makeup.” But Bella, caught up in the director’s wake, followed her helplessly to another room.

  “Television requires different makeup. Bolder. Otherwise you’ll look like a cup of milk onscreen.” Madelyn opened the door and pushed her into a room where the beds had been removed and additional portable tables set up. Bella sat down uncertainly in the chair she indicated and a small, cheerful, middle-aged woman with curly auburn hair in a jumble on top of her head pounced on her, makeup brush in hand.

  “I’m Natalie,” she said, swiping the brush over Bella’s face. “You’ll be seeing a lot of me, so get used to it!”

  She set to work with a vengeance, covering Bella’s face, neck, upper body, and even her hands in foundation. She pencil-darkened her eyebrows, lined her eyes and applied shadow and mascara. She swiped various shades of blush and powder all over her cheeks, nose and forehead, lined her lips with a pencil and filled them in with lipstick. Bella felt like she was wearing a mask by the time all was said and done—a stiff, itchy, uncomfortable mask.

  “Voila!” Natalie exclaimed, turning her toward the mirror.

  Bella gazed at her reflection with horror. She looked as made up as a rodeo prostitute. “I’m sorry—I’m sure you’re very good at your job,” she said to Natalie, “but I look…” she waved a hand.

  “The cameras will love it,” Natalie assured her. “You don’t wear makeup very much, do you? I made you up to look natural. If we were going for a glamour shot, I’d have applied twice as much.” She laughed at Bella’s expression. “Get going—you’ll be late for dinner.”