“Three or four times removed, maybe, but Grandmama hasn’t heard from anyone there in decades.”
“No problem. We’ll make it work.”
She saw the doubt on Sarah’s face and pressed her point with ruthless determination.
“If what you give me is as full of glam and romance as I think it could be, it’ll send our circulation through the roof. And that, my sweet, will provide you with enough of a bonus to reimburse Hunter for his lost artifact. And pay off the last of your grandmother’s medical bills. And put a little extra in your bank account for a rainy day or two.”
The dazzling prospect hung before Sarah’s eyes for a brief, shining moment. She could extricate Gina from her latest mess. Become debt-free for the first time in longer than she could remember. Splurge on some totally unnecessary luxury for the duchess. Buy a new suit instead of retrofitting old classics.
She came within a breath of promising Alexis all the photos and R-rated copy she could print. Then her irritating sense of fair play raised its head.
“I can’t do it,” she said after a bitter internal struggle. “Hunter promised he wouldn’t file charges against Gina if I play the role of adoring fiancée. I’ll try to get him to agree to a photo shoot focusing on our—” she stopped, took a breath, continued “—on our engagement. I’m pretty sure he’ll agree to that.”
Primarily because it would serve his purpose. Once the word hit the street that he was taken, all those women shoving their phone numbers at him would just have to live with their disappointment. So would Alexis.
“That’s as far as I’ll go,” Sarah said firmly.
Her boss frowned and was priming her guns for another salvo when her intercom buzzed. Scowling, she stabbed at the instrument on her desk.
“Didn’t I tell you to hold all calls?”
“Yes, but...”
“What part of ‘hold’ don’t you understand?”
“It’s...”
“It’s what, dammit?”
“Number Three,” came the whispered reply. “He’s here.”
If Dev hadn’t just run past a gauntlet of snickering females, he might have been amused by the almost identical expressions of surprise on the faces of his fiancée and her boss. But he had, so he wasn’t.
Alexis Danvers didn’t help matters by looking him up and down with the same scrutiny an auctioneer might give a prize bull. As thin as baling wire, she sized him up with narrowed, calculating eyes before thrusting out a hand tipped with scarlet talons.
“Mr. Hunter. Good to meet you. Sarah says you and she are engaged.”
“Wish I could say the same, Ms. Danvers. And yes, we are.”
He shifted his gaze to Sarah, frowning when he noted her reddened eyes and tearstained cheeks. He didn’t have to search far for the reason behind them. The grainy color photo on Danvers’s desk said it all.
Hell! Sarah had hinted the crap would hit the fan if some magazine other than hers scooped the story. Looked as if it had just hit. He turned back to the senior editor and vectored the woman’s anger in his direction.
“I’m guessing you might be a little piqued that Sarah didn’t clue you in to our relationship before it became public knowledge.”
Danvers dipped her chin in a curt nod. “You guessed right.”
“I’m also guessing you understand why I wasn’t real anxious for another avalanche of obnoxious publicity.”
“If you’re referring to the Ten Sexiest Singles article...”
“I am.”
“Since you declined to let us interview you for that article, Mr. Hunter, everything we printed was in the public domain. Your military service. That cargo thingamajig you patented. Your corporation’s profits last quarter. Your marital status. All we did was collate the facts, glam them up a little, toss in a few pictures and offer you to an admiring audience.”
“Any more admiration from that audience and I’ll have to hire a bodyguard.”
“Or a fiancée?”
She slipped that in with the precision of a surgeon. Dev had to admire her skill even as he acknowledged the hit.
“Or a fiancée,” he agreed. “Luckily I found the perfect one right here at Beguile.”
Which reminded him of why he’d made a second trek to the magazine’s offices.
“Something’s come up,” he told Sarah. “I was going to explain it to you privately, but...”
“You heard from Gina?”
Her breathless relief had Dev swearing silently. Little Miss Gina deserved a swift kick in the behind for putting her sister through all this worry. And he might just be the one to deliver it.
“No, I haven’t.”
The relief evaporated. Sarah’s shoulders slumped. Only for a moment, though. The St. Sebastian steel reasserted itself almost immediately. Good thing, as she’d need every ounce of it for the sucker punch Dev was about to deliver.
“But I did hear from the CEO I’ve been negotiating with for the past few months. He’s ready to hammer out the final details and asked me to fly over to Paris.”
She sensed what was coming. He saw it in the widening of her green eyes, the instinctive shake of her head. Dev ignored both and pressed ahead.
“I told him I would. I also told him I might bring my fiancée. I explained we just got engaged, and that I’m thinking of taking some extra time so we can celebrate the occasion in his beautiful city.”
“Excuse me!” Danvers butted in, her expression frigid. “Sarah has an important job here at Beguile, with deadlines to meet. She can’t just flit off to Paris on your whim.”
“I appreciate that. It would only be for a few days. Maybe a week.”
Dev turned back to Sarah, holding her gaze, holding her to their bargain at the same time.
“We’ve been working this deal for months. I need to wrap it up. Monsieur Girault said his wife would be delighted to entertain you while we’re tied up in negotiations.”
He slipped in that veiled reminder of one of his touchiest problems deliberately. He’d been up front with her. He wanted her to provide cover from Elise Girault. In exchange, he’d let her light-fingered sister off the hook.
Sarah got the message. Her chin inched up. Her shoulders squared. The knowledge she would stick to her side of the bargain gave him a fiercer sense of satisfaction than he had time to analyze right now.
“When are you thinking of going?” she asked.
“My executive assistant has booked us seats on a seven-ten flight out of JFK.”
“Tonight?”
“Tonight. You have a current passport, don’t you?”
“Yes, but I can’t just jet off and leave Grandmama!”
“Not a problem. I also had my assistant check with the top home health-care agencies in the city. A licensed, bonded RN can report for duty this afternoon and stay with your grandmother until you get back.”
“Dear God, no!” A shudder shook her. “Grandmama would absolutely hate that invasion of her privacy. I’ll ask our housekeeper, Maria,