His fake fiancée?
Artist Holly Motta arrives in New York to make a new start...only to find billionaire Ethan Benton occupying the apartment where she is meant to be staying! But there’s another surprise in store... Ethan needs a fake fiancée—fast!—and he wants her to fill the role!
But Ethan’s got no intention of trusting any woman with his heart. Until he lets beautiful Holly into his world...and discovers she is the only woman he’d really like to make his wife!
Ethan bent in and brought his mouth to Holly’s. Only it wasn’t a feather-soft dinner kiss meant to fool his aunt. No, his unexpected lips were bold. And hot. And they smashed against hers.
Their insistence didn’t let her pull away. Instead, she swirled inside. Got lost in the moment. Let it go on several beats too many.
Until she could finally separate herself from him.
Holly feared everyone at the table could hear her heart pounding outside of her chest.
Ethan looked as shocked as she felt. But, after a moment, he picked up his fork and resumed eating. Following his lead, she did the same.
Fortunately, neither Louise nor Fernando noticed anything strange. Holly and Ethan were engaged, after all. Why wouldn’t they spontaneously kiss?
But he wasn’t helping her any with a kiss like that. Let that be a warning to her.
Her New York Billionaire
Andrea Bolter
ANDREA BOLTER has always been fascinated by matters of the heart. In fact, she’s the one her girlfriends turn to for advice with their love lives. A city mouse, she lives in Los Angeles with her husband and daughter. She loves travel, rock ’n’ roll, sitting at cafés and watching romantic comedies she’s already seen a hundred times. Say hi at andreabolter.com.
Her New York Billionaire is Andrea Bolter’s debut title for Mills & Boon Cherish.
For Alex
Contents
“WHY IS YOUR face blue?”
Holly froze in shock. She had just opened the door to the apartment she’d expected to find empty. But instead of flicking on the lights in a vacant living room she’d walked in on lamps already blazing. And a shirtless man sitting in the center of the sofa. Reading a newspaper. A gorgeous brown-haired shirtless man was reading a newspaper.
“Why is your face blue?” he repeated. Broad shoulders peeked out over the newspaper he was holding.
Why is your face blue? Holly heard the individual words but couldn’t put them together to understand them as a question. She could hardly get over the fact that there was a man in the apartment, let alone make sense of the sounds coming from his mouth.
She checked the keys in her hand. Perhaps she was somehow in the wrong place.
And then she saw.
Her hands were blue. Cobalt Blue Two Eleven, to be exact. She’d know that color anywhere. It was one of her favorites.
It suddenly made sense. Just a few minutes ago she’d ducked out of the rain and under the front awning of the building to rifle through her duffel bag for the piece of paper that confirmed the address. The duffel held paint tubes and brushes, paperwork, clothes and heaven knew what else. The cap must have come off her Cobalt Two Eleven.
And she must have touched her face with paint-covered hands.
“What are you doing here?” Holly asked the shirtless man.
“This apartment belongs to my company.”
He lowered his newspaper, folded it matter-of-factly and laid it beside him. Giving Holly a full view of his long, lean torso that led down to the plaid pajama bottoms covering the lower half of his body.
“What is it that you are doing here?”
The lump that had balled in Holly’s throat delayed her response. She hadn’t seen a half-naked man in a very long time. And she hadn’t seen a man who looked like he did while he was busy being half-naked in...well, possibly ever.
“I’m staying here,” she answered.
It had been a grueling journey, and the last thing she’d expected was to have to reckon with someone once she got here.
She blinked her eyes hard to pull herself together and tried not to panic. “I was told I could use this apartment.”
“That must have been a mistake.”
Mistake?