Her Fictional Fling: Scandals in Scotland Contemporary Romance Series Book 1

by Summers, Jo

  He chalked it up to just being a bloke—of course he’d be amused by an attractive woman; it was only natural, and the fact she didn’t know who he was only added to her appeal. Allowing himself to be drawn into something deeper with Nicole had been his mistake, one he wasn’t stupid enough to make twice. But faced with the hot little tornado who’d knocked him on his ass, he wondered if maybe he wasn’t in need of a little casual fun, a good time, and if she was willing, maybe a little more to take his mind off of Nicole. God, how long had it been now? Too damn long.

  “So, you’re into Vikings, then?” he asked, baiting her. There were loads of advantages if she bit. Spending time with someone who appeared to be his ex’s complete opposite would do well in clearing his mind, and according to Charles, his agent, there could even be publicity advantages in getting caught up with a new woman.

  “Let’s just say I have more than a passing interest in them,” she said, grinning. “But I’m still wondering what one is doing in a hotel kitchen.” She crossed her arms and stared at him skeptically.

  “Hiding out, actually,” he said, not offering any further explanation in the vague hope she would ask for more. He had no plan to return to the damned party. He’d had his fill of playing nice for the day and being the film star that everyone expected, and he was ready to go back to his condo and get away from the limelight for a while. He studied the girl and could practically see her toying with the question of whether or not she actually cared what he was doing here. Evidently, curiosity won.

  “What from?” she asked.

  “You first.” He lifted a palm in her direction. He couldn’t quite read the sentiment that crossed her features next, but it was clear the scotch hadn’t been able to soften whatever it was she’d been running from when she’d slammed into him, and to his surprise, he found he wasn’t just asking to be polite.

  It had been ages since anyone had so much as piqued his interest, and it was good to have a conversation without feeling numb to everything the other person said or wondering what her motive might be in getting to know him. Most women had one in his experience—money, fame, or a cover page in a London tabloid. They were all the same until he’d been stupid enough to let himself fall for Nicole. His stomach churned at the thought of his ex.

  “I’m supposed to be in there,” Andi said.

  She pointed a thumb in the direction of the doors leading to the ballroom and Colin noticed a tiny tattoo on the inside of her right wrist, the detail of which he couldn’t see. Instinctively, he reached out and took the wrist in his hand, turning it over. In the second before she pulled away, he studied it: a tiny quill pen. He looked up, expecting to see anger or irritation, but instead she just stared back at him, eyebrows raised.

  “Anyway, I was in there giving a rereading, reading—er, actually, I never made it that far—I was meant to give a reading from a novel—my novel—but it didn’t turn out well.”

  She lowered her eyes to her lap and folded her hands. He realized she was nervous.

  “I sort of choked, actually.” She looked up at him and grimaced. “Not sort of. I totally ate it.” She shook her head and strands of black hair fell over her eyes.

  “Stage fright?” he asked. Colin was aware that public speaking was a major fear for lots of people, but he’d never been able to relate. Even as a kid, he’d been completely comfortable acting in front of a camcorder or a large crowd. It was why he’d gone into theater. Then he’d been discovered, setting off his movie career. He loved his work and had never looked back. It wasn’t until recently that the price of fame had begun to take its toll.

  “Sort of.” She seemed about to say more but stopped, shaking her head. “Your turn then, Viking. You look like how I imagine a character from my first book. Ironically, the one I just flubbed up reading from.” She ran a nervous finger through her wayward hair, brushing it away from her cobalt eyes.

  “Well, I kid you not, authoress. I’m the very same.” Colin stood and offered her a bow, then traded his British accent for the character’s and recited one of his lines as the Viking hero, Bjorn, from Andi’s novel-turned-movie.

  A look of pure delight spread across her face, lighting up her sapphire blues. If he wasn’t careful, he could very well risk sinking right to the bottom of them. She jumped up from the floor and slapped both hands over her red mouth.

  “You’re my hero!” she shouted, making Colin burst out laughing.

  “Thanks, love. All I did was keep you from crashing and sending both of us to the hospital, but who am I to argue over a little label?”

  She threw her head back and a bubble of laughter escaped, the sound of it sending warmth to the lowest part of his abdomen.

  “No, I mean, I invented you for my first book, as you seem to know, but”—she pointed a finger at him—”I thought James Madison was cast to play his part? The producer showed my agent the list in an email, and I just assumed he’d be here, but I didn’t see him out there with the rest of the crowd. And anyway, you’re the only one dressed up like this. Everyone else is in cocktail dress. I thought maybe you were kitchen staff or something, dressed in the movie theme.”

  “Sadly, no. This”—he motioned at his clothing—”is me losing a bet. James Madison had a problem with the contract conflicting with another of his projects and my agent arranged for me to replace him. So I flew in from London the day before filming to play your character, the great Bjorn.” Good job, he’d caught himself before throwing the word ridiculous in front of character. “I don’t normally agree to this sort of role.” There, that was better. “But the money is great—they actually doubled Madison’s fee in order to get me out here. That, plus the promise of getting away from London for awhile, was enough to make up for having to learn my lines in record time.”

  He’d been going on and on and hadn’t noticed that she’d gone cross. Her eyes had become slits and seemed to have darkened to a deep navy.

  “What do you mean, this sort of role?” She folded her arms over her chest.

  He thought he’d been careful not to insult her, but he’d inadvertently bashed her work.

  “I just mean, you know, romantic types. Not my thing.” It was true. Normally he took on action hero roles. At six foot four, he had the build that casting directors sought, and with his broad shoulders and disciplined workouts, he’d been exactly what they were looking for. That, and he rather enjoyed the work. He wasn’t known for starring in chick flicks, and he liked it that way. They condoned an institution he no longer believed in, thanks to his cheating ex.

  He’d gone down the romance road and had nothing to show for it except a bruised heart, not to mention ego. As an aspiring actor, he’d trained in Shakespearean theatre, where he hoped to return at some point when the highs of his current position started to wear off. But for films, he preferred to stick with characters who fought villains and slung busty blondes over their shoulders, staying just long enough for a roll in the sack before heading off to the next battle, no strings attached. He’d do well to live by the same code in his own life. Anything more was just asking to get burned.

  “If they’re not your type, then why are you here?” she asked.

  Rather than go into the detail of the decisions he’d made over the past few months, and worse, the ones made for him against his will, he kept it simple and played the humor card again. “Apparently to stop women from crashing in hotel kitchens.”

  She wasn’t having it.

  His pretty new friend blinked up at him and crossed her arms, clearly expecting more than he’d offered.

  Fine. He’d give a little, but only just.

  “My agent suggested I do something different to avoid typecasting this early in my career.” It wasn’t really so early—he’d started young, sure, but he was now nearing thirty—though she obviously had no idea who he was. He’d done only one small American film; the rest were more popular this side of the pond, so it wasn’t too surprising she wasn’t familiar with his work. Hopefully
, though, that would change soon and he could diversify his projects and maybe have a chance to experience life in the States for a bit. Doing the film version of Andi’s book would go a long way in helping since it was big with US readers. But he’d think twice before he took on the role of another softhearted cad.

  “Of course,” she said, challenge in her tone. “Who wouldn’t want to be known for playing gorgeous, sexy heroes who can have any woman they want? And who fight to keep her once they find the perfect one?”

  Her lips turned up and he was treated to another of her mischievous, tempting smiles. He’d like to kiss it right off her face and planned to play his cards to make that exact thing happen before the end of the evening. Her question was legitimate, but Colin didn’t need time to think about his answer.

  “Someone who doesn’t believe that there is a perfect one.”

  She nodded her head as if she knew his type and had him pegged. “Someone like you,” she said. It wasn’t a question.

  “Exactly.”

  Andi opened her mouth to say more but was interrupted by the electronic chorus of a popular song. She dug a mobile out of her dress, drawing his eyes once more to her chest. Just because he didn’t believe in the idea of a perfect mate, didn’t mean he wouldn’t like to see what else she kept tucked inside that black lace.

  There was something soft about her that drew him in. She had a gentle nature in such contrast to Nicole’s icy, almost too perfect, exterior. Maybe she would be game in helping him get back out there. If he read Andi correctly, maybe she was also running from something and would be up for a distraction. Charles had even advised something along those lines when he’d suggested that Colin’s finding a new serious girlfriend might take media attention off of him for a while. And no one needed to know that it wouldn’t truly be serious. His recent detachment from Nicole, who’d only been his fiancée for a few months when they’d split, had shoved him back into the role of London’s most talked about bachelor, and the tabloids were apparently elated by his new singlehood.

  Perhaps a thing with Andi would get them off his back. At least the papers would stop speculating about whether or not he would forgive Nicole—no—and whether or not he intended to get engaged again in the future—double no. Nicole was moving on at lightning speed with his former best bud, so why shouldn’t he do the same? As long as he made his intentions clear, there was no risk of harm. And Andi, the public-phobic writer, wasn’t likely to crave media attention, so from where he sat, she would be a wise choice to start off his foray back into bachelorhood.

  Andi scrolled a finger across the phone and began punching at it with her thumb. She scrunched up her nose. “It’s my agent wondering where I am. She’ll kill me if she finds me hiding in here,” Andi said, before returning to tapping away.

  “Same with my agent.” Charles would go on about Colin’s disappearance for a bit, but he could usually be talked down fairly easily. Andi, on the other hand, looked genuinely worried.

  “No, I mean I really screwed this up.”

  “No offense, but I doubt the cast will mind too much. This is the last week of filming and everyone is knackered from wrapping things up. And the director’s probably halfway to pissed by now. The female lead’s a bit of a drama queen and has been hell to work with since day one. Not to mention weather issues with the rain these past few months.”

  She didn’t seem at all comforted.

  “It’s not just about this, though,” she said, running a hand across her forehead. “The publisher is running out of patience with me. They’re really supportive of my writing, but this isn’t the first time I’ve bailed on a reading. I’m running out of excuses for why I don’t show up when the marketing department sets up events for me.”

  “So what’s the problem, then?” he asked.

  She was obviously pretty, and smart enough to write a book that a well-known producer had liked enough to buy the rights, and actually make the movie. From where he sat, there wasn’t any reason she shouldn’t be making public appearances. Then again, he barely knew her, and she had just come bolting out of a ballroom where she was the main event.

  “I guess I’m just not good in front of people.”

  He could see in her eyes that there was more to the story than what she’d chosen to reveal, but he left it alone. He wasn’t interested in getting to know her that closely. Getting under that polka-dotted skirt might be on his agenda, but acting as her therapist was absolutely not.

  “And Lily, my agent, just notified me that we have to talk when I go back to the party. Apparently, there’s an issue with the amount of sex in the chapters I’ve just turned in.”

  Colin’s ears perked up. Sex most definitely was on his agenda. “The amount of sex? Meaning…”

  Andi’s cheeks pinked and she went back to messing with her phone. “Meaning, well, there aren’t enough steamy scenes in the book I’m working on now. Apparently my readers are fond of them, and the new chapters are a little sparse in that area. And what’s in there already is apparently a bit…dry, which isn’t too surprising since…well, never mind. I can’t stand the thought of letting people down.”

  It was the perfect opening for him to suggest that they use each other for mutual benefit, but he’d probably need to get her a little more relaxed first. She was still tense and jumpy, and the kitchen wasn’t exactly the most amorous setting for what he wanted to discuss. Next thing he knew, he was helping her off the floor and holding onto her hand. He ran his own hand down the length of her arm, wiping away a few remaining gold droplets of scotch. She stood still, arms at her sides, her lack of protest spurring him on as he ran his thumbs under her eyes, erasing the traces of makeup that had blackened them. Her skin was tender and flawless, and when she bit her bottom lip, he had to force himself not to put his mouth on hers just yet.

  “Being good in front of people is a matter of practice.” He reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “And so is good sex.”

  Before she could argue, he grabbed her hand and began pulling her away from the dreaded kitchen and the adjoining ballroom that they both needed to escape. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before we’re found.”

  She stopped abruptly and he turned. Indecision played across her face.

  “Trust me. I know a place.”

  Chapter Three

  As if she had much of a choice.

  She couldn’t go back where she’d come from, and surely the evening couldn’t possibly get any weirder. First, Andi had flaked out at her own reading, in front of an entire film cast and crew. Then, she’d rammed straight into the hero from her own romance novel, and now, of all things, she was letting said Viking hero take her to who knew where. The past hour had her reeling, and a wicked headache was starting to throb at her temples. Then there was the fact of the kiss she was pretty sure he’d almost planted on her back there.

  Colin Walker. His name was vaguely familiar but Lily almost had an aneurysm via text when Andi had mentioned she was recovering from smashing into him and was being looked after in a kitchen by the actor himself. Lily had quickly schooled Andi in all things Colin 101. Heartthrob, rising star, recent scandalous breakup with a famous fiancée, though Andi had to cut her friend off when the subject of Andi’s new book lacking sex had come up and erased all other topics from her brain.

  Speaking of, Andi studied the backside of her Viking as he led her down the hall, and silently pronounced it an accurate likeness of her character, Bjorn’s. Tight and sculpted underneath his tunic, its outline sat between broad ripped shoulders and a narrow waist and tanned muscular legs. Although she was pretty sure his physique wasn’t a product of conquests and high seas adventures, it was nonetheless gorgeous and had her pulse going at top speed.

  Hot Viking or not, she was still a single girl letting a relatively strange guy take her somewhere unfamiliar, and she needed to look out for herself. At least Lily knew who she was with, assuming her friend had believed Andi’s texts.


  She’d forgotten what it was like to be spontaneous like this; it had been so long since a guy had shown any interest, and, she admitted, that was largely by choice. Following her breakup with Jared, she’d needed time to figure out who she was on her own, and to make sure she knew her own value well enough not to make the same mistake twice. Never mind that it was her fault for rarely leaving the house in anything other than yoga pants and a sweatshirt, and, of course, her enormous old lenses that Lily had dubbed birth control glasses.

  She couldn’t exactly blame the male species for not noticing her when she did her best to go, well…unnoticed. And she hadn’t been expecting to be hit on by her own fictional hero on the first occasion she’d been out in months.

  It didn’t matter anyway. She wasn’t in the market for a man. Her career was taking off, the pressure was on to follow-up her breakout book with something even better, and she was finally, finally, starting to get over Jared the Jerk.

  But still, she was a warm-blooded woman who’d suddenly found herself in the presence of a guy who did a fine job depicting the Norse god of her dreams. Good thing she’d listened to Lily’s advice and opted for contacts and a new dress tonight. At least she’d be at her best if she got the chance to ask him to take a snapshot of the two of them with her cell phone before they went their separate ways. It would be something for her readers to enjoy on her website.

  “Do they have more drinks where you’re taking me? Because I’m really thinking I could use another. Or, you know, ten.” she said as Colin pulled her down a deserted hallway.

  On top of the epic ruination of the reading that never was, Andi worried her figurative face-plant would soon reach her publisher. There was always the chance there’d been a live-Tweeting journalist in the audience. She consoled herself that she’d been just a writer among a large quantity of celebrities, so chances were slim that someone would have been interested in or even recognized her.