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

by Summers, Jo

  “I don’t know much about Scottish food,” she said, feeling guilty already at the knowledge that she wasn’t about to let him feed her after all he had already done for her, with nothing in return. “Although I’ve heard some scary things.” She made a face, causing Colin’s lips to turn up at the corners in a way that made her squirm inside. “Particularly regarding haggis.”

  “Duly noted,” he answered, his British accent melting her for the thousandth time that night. Andi lamented the disappearance of his backside into the jeans. Chances were very, very slim that she’d ever have the unique pleasure of seeing it again, unless he chose to grace the world with it in one of his movies. She released a heavy sigh.

  Colin picked up his now wrinkled shirt and tugged it on. There went another nice view.

  It was then that Andi realized she was still naked, with only a pillow to cover what it could. As soon as he left the room, she’d get dressed and leave with as much dignity as she could salvage.

  “Alright then,” he said, “help yourself to anything you need.” He pointed a finger at her. “I’ll be right back. Don’t you go anywhere.”

  She only nodded.

  “Good,” he said, offering her a smile that made her heart clench just before he grabbed his motorcycle helmet and keys and pulled the door closed behind him.

  I’ve told enough lies for the evening, Andi thought, letting out the breath she’d been holding as soon as her hero was gone. At this point, she could tell he meant well, but she wasn’t about to sit around and let him do more kind things for her. She wasn’t stupid. As soon as she was gone, he’d forget about her because of one simple truth.

  Men like Colin Walker did not remember women like Andi McKenna.

  If only she could forget him as easily.

  Chapter Six

  It’d been a long time since Colin had a naked woman in his bed. Too damn long.

  Despite that fact, no one was more surprised than he at how much he anticipated getting back to this one. Andi McKenna was incredibly sexy, even though he was starting to see how little she knew that about herself, but as much as she piqued his interest, she was a far cry from his usual type.

  Although he had to admit, ages had passed since he’d been with anyone besides Nicole, so he was no longer certain what exactly his type was.

  There he was thinking about his ex again, against his will. He might have been a womanizer at one point, taking full advantage of one of the many perks of his job and the identity he’d built, but he’d always been clear about his intentions. Never had he let a woman believe she was anything more to him than short-term entertainment. When he’d met Nicole, he thought things were different. He’d settled down with her and had begun to see a future for them. He’d been faithful to her; why couldn’t she have returned the courtesy?

  He resented what Nicole had done. More than that, though, he was angry that his best friend, Erik, was the one she’d replaced him with. Colin choked out a scathing laugh. Recently, she’d even had the audacity to try and push the ex-mates back together, in the interest of clearing Erik’s conscience and making her own life easier.

  But Andi was something new, something fresh to break him out from the perpetual raincloud he’d been under for months. Not only was he keen to explore the delicious curves he’d seen when he’d pulled off her dress; he needed her to provide a distraction—to help get the media wolves off his back. They seemed to relish in his pain from the breakup, their fire fueled by Nicole’s public infidelity and his resulting humiliation and grief. He needed something new to give them—something that appeared permanent enough that they’d stop speculating as to when he’d get back on the proverbial horse. If they believed him to be in a new committed relationship, they’d move on to something more interesting. Especially if his new apparent love interest was someone unknown in his world. Then he could go back to the occasional photographer following him, rather than a pack of them.

  Andi fit the bill perfectly. And, even better, she wasn’t interested in permanence.

  Feeling better about things, Colin pulled into the condo parking garage and unloaded the food from the back of his bike. There was a great pub nearby, and he’d picked up fish and chips, hoping the choice would suit Andi. Thankfully, his trip out and back had been free of paparazzi.

  He had rented the condo under a fake name and, with his helmet on and out of the Viking garb, he looked like any other guy. Despite the crowd of young people out partying, he’d gone unnoticed at the quiet restaurant.

  All in all, the evening was looking up, though he worried a little at what had happened with Andi earlier. She’d confused him when she’d gone from all confidence and spunk to what could only be described as fearful. It was possible she was just overwhelmed at the thought of being with him because of who he was, although such a thing had never happened before. Usually, women couldn’t wait to get him under their skirts so they could tell their friends about it the next day or make a small fortune running their mouths to the media.

  Maybe that was why he found Andi so fascinating. She made him feel more normal than he had since his career had taken off, and although he wouldn’t trade what he had now—he enjoyed the lifestyle, the money, and the often twelve-hour days that kept him out of his own head—sometimes, he missed being anonymous, missed being able to move through life without constant attention from people who didn’t even know him, and didn’t give a shit about him beyond the entertainment he provided.

  Still, why had she frozen up so suddenly, after flirting with him? What was it that caused her to shut down and turn inside herself the way she had? He knew it wasn’t any of his business, and he wasn’t about to get in that deep, but something about her raw vulnerability tugged at him, and even though he knew it was irrational, he couldn’t help wanting to know more.

  Colin took the back stairs two at a time up to his rooms, holding the bag of food in one arm as he turned the key. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find when he opened the door. Perhaps Andi would be on the couch, having poured herself a new glass of wine. Maybe she was on the bed, waiting for him, still warm from the shower. She could be freshening up in the bath, or lounging on the balcony, enjoying the crisp air. Any of those scenarios would have been fine.

  What wasn’t fine was that when he called her name, no one answered. And when he dropped the food on the counter and hurriedly searched the whole place for her, she was nowhere to be found. A tiny spot of color near the balcony caught his eye, and for a moment he was hopeful, but when he went to pick it up, he discovered it was only a small plastic thumb drive. Andi must have dropped it on her way out, but she hadn’t even the courtesy to leave a note with her cell number or any other way to reach her. He tucked the drive—his only connection to her— in his pocket.

  Colin Walker, rising star and tabloid king, had been stood up.

  Shit.

  His jaw clenched tight at the nerve of her. He wasn’t in the habit of chasing down

  women; it had never been necessary.

  And yet, the simple fact that she’d been the one to leave without a trace made Andi

  McKenna all the more interesting, and he found it difficult to remain annoyed for long.

  Simultaneously grinning and cursing to himself for being such a chump, Colin picked up his cell and set to the idiotic task of finding his mystery girl.

  Andi stared at the blank screen of her laptop, eyes glazed over with lack of sleep and the perpetual worry that the words she needed for the new book, due in just a few months, wouldn’t show up. Her first three books had been a joy to write, and she remembered the nights she’d stayed up late to finish that very first one, fingers racing over the keyboard after endless shifts at various greasy spoon diners where her ass had been pinched by dirty old men too many times to count. That very same keyboard now seemed to mock her.

  She’d never had this much trouble with her work before. What was wrong?

  Lily had said it was a problem with the sex scenes she�
��d written so far, but deep down Andi knew it was much more than that. After she’d left Jared the Jerk, writing books about heroes and heroines finding love had sustained her, had given her a reason to get up each morning even when her life had felt like it was on a fast train to nowhere. Living their adventures had been her saving grace, and she’d held onto it, terrified of what would happen if she let go. Reviewers might rave about her deft plotting, pace, and characterization, but Andi knew that anything shining in her writing really all boiled down to one thing—hope. She’d given her characters hope when she hadn’t had any herself, and, one step at a time, she’d turned their hope into her own and used it to build a career she loved.

  So what was the deal now?

  She looked away from the blur of the shamefully low number of words she’d managed to choke out over the past few hours, pulling off her glasses to rub her tired eyes. Maybe she just needed a fresh cup of coffee and a break. She opened up a packet of coffee and threw it into the small coffee maker to brew. It took only seconds for a tiny cup to pour out—far less time than she needed. She knew she ought to go down to the lobby for breakfast, but there was still a chance she might run into one of the journalists who’d been at the cast party the night before. Fresh humiliation flooded through her at the thought. She’d have to settle for this mud-like stuff instead.

  She padded back to the dreaded laptop, which sat staring at her like a mountain she needed to scale before she’d have any peace. Knowing full well that the Internet was her worst enemy at that particular moment, Andi opened a browser. It wasn’t like she was getting any work done anyway, so what was the harm in checking her email and possibly updating her Facebook page. Maybe she’d even look up a place to grab a bite to eat, somewhere new where she could plug in and get some work done. Though that would mean the unfortunate task of trading her favorite worn sweatshirt and pajama bottoms for actual clothes.

  As she clicked open her email, her eyes widened at a name that stood out among all the others. She grabbed for her glasses, certain she wasn’t reading it accurately.

  Nope. It was correct, all right.

  Colin Walker had sent a note to her personal email account.

  Andi coughed and sprayed coffee over her computer. Only one person could be at fault for this, but she would deal with Lily later. She set her cup down, grabbing a napkin to wipe her screen. Right now, she had to face whatever it was that the actor had to say after she’d freaked and snuck out of his condo like a coward.

  She closed both eyes and tilted her head away from the screen, then turned back fast. Slowly, she opened only one eye and dared another peek.

  Damn. The message was still there.

  She recalled a time when she’d sent an email to a new gym in her neighborhood, asking about signing up for one of their offered bootcamp classes. An instructor had emailed her back with great enthusiasm to see if she’d like to schedule a session. Andi, in typical Andi fashion, had chickened out and deleted the email without responding. She’d only felt a tiny bit guilty when he’d tried once more, and she’d deleted the trainer’s second attempt. After that, he seemed to have gotten the message. With Colin, she was one hundred percent sure he would not respond by backing away.

  But why? The question still bothered her, even after his explanation. She was a total stranger, so why was he contacting her after the disastrous couple of hours she’d spent with him. Did he enjoy getting turned on and then not being able to do anything about it? Andi sure didn’t. She’d gone home desperately wishing she could redo the whole night. Did he feel the same way?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Just click the stupid subject line already. Might as well rip off the bandage.

  Andi scrolled her mouse over Colin’s email and finally, with a deep breath, clicked it open.

  Andi,

  I trust this message finds you well. I don’t know what happened last night, and that’s okay, but I do know that I’d like to spend more time with you. You and I could both benefit from the arrangement I have in mind. Also, I discovered something that you left at my condo, and I’d like to return it to you. You’re to meet me in on set this morning at eleven. Transportation has been arranged.

  Cheers,

  Colin

  Where to begin? Andi’s website listed Lily as her agent, so she guessed that he’d contacted Lily, and she could bet her best friend had been all too pleased to pass along her email address.

  Andi sighed.

  Lily was just trying to help out. She knew as well as Andi that it wasn’t just her busy writing schedule keeping her off the dating scene. Lily probably figured Andi just needed a little push in the right direction, and the woman wasn’t totally wrong. Plus, he’d found her lucky thumb drive. Even though she saved all her manuscripts to a digital cloud she didn’t one-hundred-percent trust, the stupid pink plastic brought her comfort, and she wanted it back. She didn’t take any risks concerning her career—it was the key to providing for her mom and staying out of a life she didn’t want to go back to—and so far she’d saved all of her completed manuscripts onto the thing.

  She read the email over again, three—okay, maybe ten—times, searching for clues between the lines of Colin’s words. She finally decided that he didn’t have any ulterior motive. He was perfectly forward with his intentions. They’d briefly discussed the benefits of a short-term-fling, but that still didn’t quite explain why he wanted it with her.

  She thought several times about simply deleting the email. If he was any other normal guy, his arrogance alone, the nerve at his assumption she’d show up at eleven, regardless of any other plans she might have, was enough to put her off. But then she would never know why a famous actor had taken a sudden, unexplained interest in her. The only way to know for sure whether or not she could trust Colin was to agree to meet with him.

  She paced back to the coffee maker, poured herself a second cup, adding ample amounts of sugar, and returned to the laptop. She wiggled her mouse to wake up the screen, and before she could think about it any further, opened a search engine in her browser.

  Colin Walker, she typed, and a million hits covered her screen.

  The usual celebrity stuff, mostly: links to magazine articles, images of Colin jogging, getting coffee or groceries, gracing the red carpet at various movie premieres, the same gorgeous, polished woman on his arm in most of the photos—a woman who looked like the complete opposite of Andi. Fascinating how obsessive people were when it came to the rich and famous. Andi couldn’t imagine anyone ever caring about her running errands, and she liked it that way. She had no desire to live her life under a magnifying glass.

  Skimming a few of the top articles, Andi gleaned vague information about a recent breakup and some other random mumbo jumbo, none of which really interested her. She wasn’t invested in what the media had to say about Colin; she could decide for herself whether or not he was worth spending a little time with.

  Andi closed the search window and checked her email one more time, refusing to spend the rest of her morning staring at photos of that damned, sexy-as-hell Viking.

  She did have work to do, after all, and the producer had paid for a full week in the glorious hotel she now occupied. Plus, she had an hour and a half before she needed to meet Colin, and she wasn’t about to spend it all fussing over her looks. Might as well make use of the uninterrupted quiet, and the pretty polished laminate desk that shone, uncluttered, in sharp contrast to the messy one at home in the dining room she used as an office.

  Despite her decision not to spend more valuable time snooping into Colin’s life, the urge to do so was shamefully difficult to resist, so she picked up the laptop and shoved it into her tote. After a quick shower and change of clothes, she left the room to head down to the hotel’s coffee shop for another cup, this time with real cream. She was going to need it.

  When it was time to leave for the set, Andi walked to the hotel lobby and found a driver and car waiting for her. She was glad fo
r the scenery on the drive over, and the time to think about the story she was working on. Trying to work on, anyway. She’d been able to pound out a decent chunk of words after her second and far superior cup of coffee that morning, though there was a good chance she’d end up deleting every last one of them later, once she’d had a chance to read over the dreck she’d written.

  “Just up ahead, lass,” the driver tossed over his shoulder in the thick Scottish brogue Andi loved. Hearing Colin’s flawless version of the accent the night before, reciting dialogue from her own story after they got back to his condo, had given her a thrill like no other. She hated to admit it, but she’d do just about anything to hear it again. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to spend the afternoon with him. Besides, she was only in the country for a week. Whatever happened during that time, she’d just file away as “research” and go back to her normal life in the U.S.

  Back to her normal, mundane life.

  As she pressed her forehead against the cool window to admire the rich green landscape and the gray clouds above, a deep sense of emptiness flooded through her.

  The feelings Colin stirred up in her may have been unwelcome at first, and sure, they scared the living daylights out of her, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that they’d also awakened pieces of her she’d locked away in darkness since she had last been with Jared. And, unlike when Jared had touched her, Colin had a gentleness and a way of handling her that made her feel…incredibly aroused, yes, but also…safe. His exterior persona hid that tender side of him from the world, but he’d let her see it. Whether it was his intention or not, he had let her in, and what she’d perceived of him was so different from what the tabloids portrayed that she began to second-guess everything she’d read about him during her online search. Not that she believed all of that stuff to begin with, but it was easy to see he’d had his share of women, like any other young playboy actor. She supposed his well-documented behavior before he’d met his ex-fiancée was normal for a guy in his position, and she didn’t judge him for it, but it didn’t suit her, either.