His glance shifted to Sarah. The memory of how she’d fit against him, how her mouth had opened under his, hit with almost the same sucker punch as the Žuta Osa.
“Or any evening,” he added, holding her gaze.
* * *
Sarah gripped her wineglass. She didn’t have any trouble reading the message in his eyes. It was a personal challenge. A not-so-private caress. Her grandmother would have to be blind to miss either.
Okay. All right. She’d hoped this meeting would blunt the surprise of a sudden engagement. Dev had done his part. The ball was now in her court.
“I can’t speak for Grandmama, but I’m free tomorrow evening. Or any evening,” she added with what felt like a silly, simpering smile.
She thought she’d overplayed her hand. Was sure of it when the duchess speared her with a sharp glance.
The question in her grandmother’s eyes ballooned Sarah’s guilt and worry to epic proportions. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t deceive the woman who’d sold every precious family heirloom she owned to provide for her granddaughters. A confession trembled on her lips. The duchess forestalled it by turning back Devon Hunter.
“I’m afraid I have another engagement tomorrow evening.”
Both women knew that to be a blatant lie. Too caught up in her own web of deceit to challenge her grandmother, Sarah tried not to squirm as the duchess slipped into the role of royal matchmaker.
“But I insist you take my granddaughter to dinner tomorrow. Or any evening,” she added drily. “Right now, however, I’d like to know a little more about you.”
Sarah braced herself. The duchess didn’t attack with the same snarling belligerence as Alexis, but she was every bit as skilled and tenacious when it came to extracting information. Dev didn’t stand a chance.
She had to admit he took the interrogation with good grace. Still, her nerves were stretched taunt when she went to bed some hours later. At least she’d mitigated the fallout from one potentially disastrous situation. If—when—she and Devon broke the news of their engagement, it wouldn’t come as a complete shock to Grandmama.
* * *
She woke up the next morning knowing she had to defuse another potentially explosive situation. A quick scan of her phone showed no return call or text from Gina. An equally quick scan of electronic, TV and print media showed the story hadn’t broken yet about Sarah and Number Three. It would, though. She sensed it with every instinct she’d developed after three years in the dog-eat-dog publishing business.
Alexis. She had to tell Alexis some version of her involvement with Devon Hunter. She tried out different slants as she hung from a handrail on the subway. Several more in the elevator that zoomed her up to Beguile’s offices. Every possible construction but one crumbled when Alexis summoned her into her corner office. Pacing like a caged tiger, the executive editor unleashed her claws.
“Jesus, Sarah!” Anger lowered Alexis’s smoker’s rasp to a frog-like croak. “You want to tell me why I have to hear secondhand that one of my editors swapped saliva with Sexy Single Number Three? On the street. In full view of every cabbie with a camera phone and an itch to sell a sensational story.”
“Come on, Alexis. How many New York cabbies read Beguile enough to recognize Number Three?”
“At least one, apparently.”
She flung the sheet of paper she was holding onto the slab of Lucite that was her desk. Sarah’s heart tripped as she skimmed the contents. It was a printed email, and below the printed message was a grainy color photo of a couple locked in each other’s arms. Sarah barely had time for a mental apology to Red for thinking she’d be the one to peddle the story before Alexis pounced.
“This joker wants five thousand for the picture.”
“You’re kidding!”
“See this face?” The executive editor stabbed a finger at her nose. “Does it look like I’m kidding?”
“This...this isn’t what you think, Alexis.”
“So maybe you’ll tell me what the hell it is, Lady Sarah.”
It might have been the biting sarcasm. Or the deliberate reference to her title. Or the worry about Gina or the guilt over lying to her grandmother or the pressure Devon Hunter had laid on her. Whatever caused Sarah’s sudden meltdown, the sudden burst of tears shocked her as much as it did Alexis.
“Oh, Christ!” Her boss flapped her hands like a PMS-ing hen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come at you so hard. Well, maybe I did. But you don’t have to cry about it.”
“Yes,” Sarah sobbed, “I do!”
The truth was she couldn’t have stopped if she wanted to. All the stress, all the strain, seemed to boil out of her. Not just the problems that had piled up in the past few days. The months of worrying about Grandmama’s health. The years of standing between Gina and the rest of the world. Everything just seemed to come to a head. Dropping into a chair, she crossed her arms on the half acre of unblemished Lucite and buried her face.
“Hey! It’s okay.” Alexis hovered over her, patting her shoulder, sounding more desperate and bullfroggish by the moment. “I’ll sit on this email. Do what I can to kill the story before it leaks.”
Sarah raised her head. She’d struck a deal. She’d stand by it. “You don’t have to kill it. Hunter... He and I...”
“You and Hunter...?”
She dropped her head back onto her arms and gave a muffled groan. “We’re engaged.”
“What! When? Where? How?”
Reverting to her natural self, Alexis was relentless. Within moments she’d wormed out every succulent detail. Hunter’s shocking accusation. The video with its incontrovertible proof. The outrageous proposal. The call from Gina stating that she was on her way to Switzerland.
“Your sister is a selfish little bitch,” Alexis pronounced in disgust. “When are you going to stop protecting her?”
“Never!” Blinking away her tears, Sarah fired back with both barrels. “Gina’s all I have. Gina and Grandmama. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to protect them.”
“That’s all well and good, but your sister...”
“Is my sister.”
“Okay, okay.” Alexis held up both palms. “She’s your sister. And Devon Hunter’s your fiancé for the next six months. Unless...”
Her face took on a calculating expression. One Sarah knew all too well. She almost didn’t want to ask, but the faint hope that her boss might see a way out of the mess prompted a tentative query.
“Unless what?”
“What if you keep a journal for the next few weeks? Better yet, a photo journal?”
Deep in thought, Alexis tapped a bloodred nail against her lips. Sarah could almost see the layout taking shape in her boss’s fertile mind.
“You and Hunter. The whirlwind romance. The surprise proposal. The romantic dinners for two. The long walks in Central Park. Our readers would eat it up.”
“Forget it, Alexis. I’m not churning out more juicy gossip for our readers.”
“Why not?”
The counter came as swift and as deadly as an adder. In full pursuit of a feature now, Alexis dropped into the chair next to Sarah and pressed her point.
“You and I both know celebrity gossip sells. And this batch comes with great bonus elements. Hunter’s not only rich, but handsome as hell. You’re a smart, savvy career