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Secret Gifts_Steamy Version

Page 3

by Elena Aitken


  “Just leaving.” Bobby the bellboy spoke up. “Come on, Lisa. Carmen will be pissed if she hears about this.” He shot a look in Megan’s direction, and she tried her best to look very serious, and very intimidating.

  Lisa looked like she was going to protest. She opened her mouth and closed it again and finally with a huff, grabbed her purse and marched to the door. “I’ll see you later, Gage,” she said. “You know where to find me.”

  He moved to get up from his chair, but with one look from Megan, he dropped back down. The last thing she needed was for Gage to do something stupid like kiss the blond groupie goodbye or promise her something more. It would definitely make her job easier if there was a clean break.

  “Thanks for the drinks, umm…” He raised his arm in a semblance of a wave.

  “Lisa,” Megan provided.

  “I knew that,” he said with a grin. Gage faced the blond and blew her a kiss. “Thank you, Lisa.” He emphasized her name and wiggled his eyebrows in Megan’s direction. “It was real.”

  Lisa swooned a little, obviously totally unconcerned with the fact that the man she was throwing herself at could barely remember her name, and judging from the smell of him and the pile of empty bottles, probably couldn’t remember his own. Bobby dragged her out the door and when it closed, she turned towards her client, whose eyes had once again resumed their half-lidded state.

  “It was real?” she repeated. “Who says that?”

  Gage smiled at her and despite the fact that he was clearly liquored, his smile was intoxicating, and Megan could easily see what had earned him mega-star status. It didn’t matter how good your acting was when you were as good-looking as Gage Mitchell. The problem was, he knew it. And Megan had spent enough time around celebrities of all kinds to know that once they knew how attractive they were, there was a direct correlation with how big their egos were. Which is why Megan made it a policy to never date anyone even remotely famous.

  “I say it,” he said after a moment. Megan was beginning to think he’d passed out. “So, you’re my new babysitter.” Gage sat up in his chair, and looked at her with suddenly very alert eyes.

  “I’m not a babysitter,” she said. “But yes, I’m from the Grace Agency and it’s my job to make sure you stay out of trouble.”

  “A babysitter.”

  “If you insist on calling it that,” she said, “then maybe you should stop and ask yourself why it is a grown man such as yourself would need a babysitter.” She stared him down, not breaking contact with his smoldering eyes despite the fact they were causing her body to react in ways she hadn’t felt in a long time, and definitely did not want to feel at the moment. Especially with Gage Mitchell. His eyes were so dark they were almost black.

  “Touché,” he said after a moment. “But if you were to ask me.” He stretched his arms up before crossing them behind his head. “And nobody ever seems to.” He paused and looked at her until she softened her stance. “Well, I’d tell you I don’t need a babysitter. I’m doing just fine on my own, thank you very much.”

  Megan sighed and went to the sink to get him a glass of water. She handed it to him and sank into the couch across from him. “So you think you’re doing just fine? All the drinking, partying, and women…that’s just fine to you?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it be fine with you? If you were a guy, of course. But then again, maybe—“

  “No,” she said, stopping any further discussion. “It wouldn’t be okay with me. In fact, your lifestyle—” Megan stopped herself a moment before saying too much. “And I’m not a guy, so it’s a moot point.”

  “Moot?” His eyes sparkled with laughter and even Megan had to smile. “You really shouldn’t take yourself so seriously.”

  “Okay,” she said. “But either way, the party’s over.”

  “But it’s just beginning,” he said. His voice was incredibly sexy, which not only surprised Megan, but disturbed her too. He stood up and before she realized what he was doing, he grabbed her hand and pulled her down to his lap.

  “Mr. Mitchell!”

  “Gage.”

  “Gage,” she corrected herself and swatted at his arms. “Let me go. This isn’t—“

  His strong arms easily turned her so she was facing him. Only inches from her, his breath was hot on her face and his nearness sparked something in Megan low in her belly she hadn’t felt in far too long.

  “It isn’t what?” he whispered and held her gaze. His proximity was intoxicating and completely unprofessional, but Megan couldn’t seem to pull away. She breathed deeply. He smelled of a musky cologne, raw maleness and…alcohol.

  Megan sighed and tried to wiggle her arms from his grasp, but Gage pulled her close and before she knew what was happening, his lips were on hers in a persistent but gentle kiss.

  It took a few seconds for her brain to process what was happening and exactly why it shouldn’t be happening, but as soon as the connection was made, Megan pushed him away and hopped up from his lap.

  “Mr. Mitchell.” She wiped at her lips, and even as she did it, longed for the taste of him again. “That’s absolutely unacceptable.” She forced herself to sound as official as she could manage, and hoped he couldn’t hear the waver in her voice.

  “I told you to call me Gage,” he said. He reclined in the chair again, and tucked his hands behind his head. He didn’t appear to be remorseful or embarrassed in the least, which is probably because he was used to women throwing themselves at him.

  Megan straightened her shirt and smoothed her hair back.

  “I think it’s time you went to bed,” she said in her best “I mean business” voice. “Alone.” She headed off any more innuendo.

  Surprising her, Gage pushed up from the chair and sauntered across the room. He only swayed a little, but by the amount of empties on the table, he’d have a headache in the morning. Before he left the room, he turned and winked. “Sweet dreams, darlin’. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Despite the slight slur, his voice was steeped in sexiness, and Megan swallowed hard. No, she would not be one of his tabloid conquests. Especially since her job was on the line.

  Gage was used to the headache that greeted him the next morning when he finally opened his eyes. What he was not used to was the twisted feeling in his stomach he wished he could attribute to the alcohol from the night before. He rolled over and the memories of what he’d done flashed through his mind. There was a woman. A blond. Yes. But there was another woman, too.

  “Crap.” Gage pulled a pillow over his head. He’d kissed her. And while he couldn’t remember why exactly he shouldn’t have kissed her, he did remember her reaction. Which, if his instinct and somewhat muddled memory was anything to go on, wasn’t the reaction he would have liked from her.

  He tossed the pillow to the side and contemplated rolling over and sleeping until his headache was gone and his memory had completely returned. And he might have succumbed to the lure of his bed, too, if the door hadn’t swung open.

  “Good morning,” a female and much too cheery voice called out. “Rise and shine.”

  Before Gage had a chance to cover his eyes again, the woman, whoever she was, pulled the curtains open and the room flooded with sunlight.

  “Dammit,” he groaned. In an effort to hide, he rolled to the side and tried to yank the blanket up.

  “Oh no you don’t.” The quilt was ripped out of his hands. “It’s time to get up. You’re not sleeping all day on my watch.”

  Gage rolled onto his back and opened his eyes again. This time slower, blinking against the grit under his lids. “And who,” he asked, “are you?”

  She looked familiar. She was the woman keeping him company the night before. She’d been sitting on his…no. Realization dawned. She was the one he shouldn’t have kissed.

  “My name is Megan,” she said. “Megan Powers. I’m your new PR rep.”

  “Dammit,” he muttered, and rubbed the heels of his hands into his eye socket. His
PR rep? “Did I—“

  “You drank too much, yes,” she said. He opened his eyes again and propped himself up in bed, unconcerned with the blanket that fell to his waist, exposing his bare chest.

  “I’m sorry if I did…well…sometimes when I drink too much, I—“

  “It’s fine,” Megan said. “But it better not happen again.” She said the words, but Gage got the distinct impression she didn’t mean them. Or maybe that was his own wishful thinking. “I’m here to do a job and I’d appreciate it if you would remember that.” She turned away and walked to the door. “Now get up. We have a few things we need to go over.”

  She left him as quickly as she’d come and despite the pounding in his head, Gage couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips.

  He showered and dressed quickly, and by the time he walked into the main room of the villa, Gage was feeling much better and the smell of the fresh coffee brewing was definitely helping.

  “Cheers,” he said when Megan handed him a mug.

  “I wasn’t sure how you liked it,” she said. He had no end of sexual innuendos he could make from that statement, but before he had a chance to say anything, she added, “Could you put a shirt on? I don’t think it’s proper for you to be walking around like that.”

  Gage looked down at his bare chest. He was wearing jeans but was still holding his t-shirt in his hand. “What? I was still a bit damp after the shower.”

  “You’ve never heard of a towel?” She looked away, but not before Gage saw her blush.

  “Does it bother you that I’m not wearing a shirt?” He walked closer to her, happy for the opportunity to tease her.

  She turned around so quickly, he almost spilled hot coffee all over his bare chest. “I’m trying my best to be professional,” she said with fire in her eyes. “But let me tell you, between the stunt you pulled last night and now.” She waved her hand up and down. “Well, you’re making it very hard,” she finished lamely.

  Gage grinned, the way he knew would affect her. His grin affected every woman. “So, I’m making it hard on you, am I?” He knew it probably wasn’t a good idea, but he couldn’t resist. He closed the gap between them until there were mere inches between them. “You know what else—“

  “That’s enough.” She pushed him away and stalked to the other end of the room. “I am not remotely interested in you, Mr. Mitchell. Not beyond my interest as a client. And that,” she turned and pointed a finger in his direction, ”is where my interest ends.”

  Gage straightened and took a sip of his coffee, trying to pretend it didn’t scald his tongue. “Surely Ms.…Powers, was it?”

  She tipped her head and arched her eyebrows.

  “You can’t be all work, no play, can you?”

  “I assure you, Mr. Mitchell, I take my job very seriously. And you, at least until the foreseeable future, are my job.”

  Gage sighed and tugged his shirt over his head. “Fine,” he said. “So I suppose Lucas put you up to this? The last rep I had from your agency wasn’t exactly, well…maybe I’ll just say, he wasn’t very good at his job.”

  That was putting it mildly, Gage thought. His last rep was addicted to coke and if he’d had his way, Gage would be too. If Lucas was trying to keep him from partying, that was the wrong approach.

  “I heard,” Megan said. “And I can assure you, there won’t be a repeat of Phillip’s actions. I was sent here for one thing—damage control.” A shadow passed across Megan’s face, but when Gage blinked, it was gone, replaced by the scowl he’d seen on her pretty much from the moment he’d opened his eyes.

  The words “damage control” rang in his head. He was sick of hearing those words, of everyone thinking he was a train wreck, a star who rose too fast and couldn’t handle fame. “I don’t need a babysitter,” he growled.

  Unaffected by his mood change, Megan moved past him and helped herself to a cup of coffee.

  “Why are you in my kitchen?” he asked.

  Megan shrugged and added a spoon of sugar. “It’s my kitchen too.”

  She’d been there when he went to bed the night before, but surely she went to her own room afterwards. He said as much. “You didn’t go back to your own room, then?”

  She shrugged again. “This is where I’m staying.”

  “You’re not staying here.”

  “Yes I am. Especially if you plan on pulling anymore little benders like last night.”

  He squared off and crossed his arms. “That was a private party.”

  She mirrored his pose. “The same kind of private party that gets you into trouble with the press. No more.”

  “You can’t tell me what to—“

  “From now on, there will be no late nights, no excessive drinking, no visits with unsupervised girls and—“

  “You’re an unsupervised girl.”

  Megan smirked and raised an eyebrow in a way that under normal circumstances he would have found incredibly hot. “I am the supervision,” she said. “This is non-negotiable, Mr. Mitchell. Our agency has been hired to do a job and we’re going to do it.”

  Gage thought about opening his mouth to protest again, but there didn’t seem to be any point. He’d hired Lucas to handle his career, and despite the fact that Gage knew he could fire him at any time, he wouldn’t. They both knew that. He paced the kitchen and ran his hands through his still damp hair, no longer concerned if Megan was affected by his charm. He was sick of reading the headlines about himself, proclaiming that he was going to burn out, ruin his own career before it barely began. He was tired of reading those headlines, because he knew they were true. Hadn’t Lucas said as much?

  “Dammit,” he said after a moment.

  “Mr. Mitchell?” He turned around to see Megan with a genuine look of concern on her face. “Are you okay?”

  “You mean besides the fact that I feel like a caged animal?” he snapped, and immediately felt bad. “I’m fine,” he added after a second.

  They lapsed into silence, both sipping their coffee and staring at each other across the kitchen. When Megan was done with hers, she put the mug into the sink and said, “It won’t be so bad, Mr. Mitchell. I understand there’s lots to do at the Lodge. Things that don’t involve parties,” she added quickly. “I was just going to head over to the main building and see what I could do about booking you some activities. Would you rather go on a hike or maybe a trail ride? I thought since you work with horses on set, you might want to take a break—“

  “And will you cut up my food and feed it to me as well?” He knew he was being a jerk, but he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

  “I’ll see what I can do.” She winked and there was a trace of a smile, but despite the fact that Gage knew she was trying to make peace, he wouldn’t accept. At least not yet.

  He watched and waited while Megan grabbed a sweater and pulled it over her tight t-shirt. It was too bad she was his jailer, he thought, because despite the blur of the night before, he’d clearly remembered how sweet she’d tasted. She’d made it clear that their relationship would be strictly professional. But it didn’t matter, because if he was going to be trapped in the mountains with a babysitter, he might as well try to enjoy himself. After all, it’d been a long time since he’d had any kind of fun that didn’t involve too many bottles and women whose names he couldn’t remember.

  He poured himself another cup of coffee and grabbed a bagel from the plate Megan had left. He took a bite and chewed thoughtfully while he looked out at the amazing view. When he’d arrived the night before, he hadn’t paid much attention to the mountains and the towering pines outside his window. Staring at them, Gage couldn’t help but think maybe there’d be some good in his temporary exile. It might be good for him to get back to the man he used to be. The type of man his family might want to talk to again.

  CHAPTER THREE

  The moment Megan stepped outside into the mountain air, she let herself take a deep breath. And not just because she couldn’t remember the last time
she’d been in the outdoors, but because the heat of the suite was too much. Gage was too much. She wasn’t stupid; she’d been around enough men, and enough good-looking men with entitlement issues, to know what he was trying to do. He was trying to get her to let down her guard, and fall for him.

  Men like Gage Mitchell were all the same. They thought if they could get you into bed, they could get whatever they wanted out of you. Even if she hadn’t been coming off a breakup, she knew better than to get messed up with Gage. For more reasons than one.

  But damn. Megan took another breath and started walking down the wooded path. She wasn’t usually so affected by men. Not even Ryan had stirred her up like that, which was one of the reasons she’d had to end it with him. He wanted to get married and how could she even think about spending the rest of her life with a man who didn’t give her shivers when she looked at him? When she didn’t feel any heat in his kiss? She couldn’t.

  A familiar twinge of guilt flickered in her gut, thinking about Ryan again. She pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket and hit the autodial for his number, but didn’t hit send. Her finger hovered over the button. Whatever lack of passion there was between them, she still missed him. They’d been best friends and partners for years. And that didn’t go away overnight. Megan stopped to watch two squirrels dart in front of her on the path. One was chasing the other, and together they ran up a tree. A smile crossed her face and she almost pressed the button to call Ryan. It would have been nice to be able to share the experience with him. Heck, it would’ve been nice to be able to talk through the entire assignment with him. He’d know how to handle Gage Mitchell.

  But not how to handle the way he made her feel, Megan thought. With a push of a button, she cleared Ryan’s number from her phone and sighed in frustration.

  “I made my choice, didn’t I?” she asked the squirrels, who were now perched on a branch, staring at her. “And I must be totally losing my mind,” she added with a laugh.

  Megan didn’t have time to worry about Ryan and how he might or might not be handling their breakup; she had to focus on Gage and what she was going to do with him. Or what she wanted to do with him. The thought took her off guard. Ryan may not give her those feelings, but even after just meeting Gage Mitchell, he did make her feel that way. And how she longed to feel it more. It wouldn’t be terrible if she…no! She had no business thinking like that. She had bigger problems. Much bigger.

 

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