He narrowed his eyes and looked at her a little more closely. ‘Do we know each other?’
She shook her head, and the way the movement sent silky blonde hair swirling around her shoulders would have had him imagining his fingers winding through it had he not been ignoring that side of things in favour of finding out what this was all about.
‘No,’ she said. ‘I mean, not really. At least not in the strictest sense of the word.’
‘I’m afraid you’ve lost me.’
‘It is all a bit bemusing, I’ll grant you,’ she said. ‘But the thing is I’ve got myself into a bit of a fix and I need your help.’
‘What kind of a fix?’
She blushed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. ‘I seem to have—ah—sort of invented a boyfriend.’
‘Sort of?’
She sighed. ‘OK, not sort of. I did invent a boyfriend.’
Dear Reader
Some people say that your schooldays, with few responsibilities, hordes of friends and long, long holidays, are the happiest of your life. Others add that, whether you loved them or hated them, they can shape you for years.
Who hasn’t idly browsed through Facebook to see what’s become of the class bully or the prettiest, most popular girl in the year? And who hasn’t wished they could sail into a reunion looking a million dollars, brimming with confidence and showing everyone what a fabulous success of their life they’ve made?
That’s perennially single Zoe Montgomery’s plan when, against her better instincts, she decides to attend her fifteen-year school reunion. Her schooldays definitely weren’t the happiest of her life, and much to her dismay they’ve subsequently had quite an impact, so she’s out to get closure. But, as can happen with the best-laid plans, things rapidly go awry—and before she knows it she’s not only invented a fabulous fake boyfriend, she’s brought him to life. When gorgeous advertising exec and latest tabloid hottie Dan Forrester and a very active grapevine become involved things start to get really complicated!
The school reunion that I went to, which provided the initial spark for this story, wasn’t nearly as dramatic as Zoe’s, but I can’t help wishing it had been! I had a blast writing Dan and Zoe’s story—I hope you enjoy it.
Lucy x
The Reunion Lie
Lucy King
LUCY KING spent her formative years lost in the world of Mills & Boon® romance when she really ought to have been paying attention to her teachers. Up against sparkling heroines, gorgeous heroes and the magic of falling in love, trigonometry and absolute ablatives didn’t stand a chance.
But as she couldn’t live in a dream world for ever she eventually acquired a degree in languages and an eclectic collection of jobs. A stroll to the River Thames one Saturday morning led her to her very own hero. The minute she laid eyes on the hunky rower getting out of a boat, clad only in Lycra and carrying a three-metre oar as if it was a toothpick, she knew she’d met the man she was going to marry. Luckily the rower thought the same.
She will always be grateful to whatever it was that made her stop dithering and actually sit down to type Chapter One, because dreaming up her own sparkling heroines and gorgeous heroes is pretty much her idea of the perfect job.
Originally a Londoner, Lucy now lives in Spain, where she spends much of the time reading, failing to finish cryptic crosswords, and trying to convince herself that lying on the beach really is the best way to work.
Visit her at www.lucykingbooks.com
This and other titles by Lucy King are available in eBook format—check out www.millsandboon.co.uk
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To the class of 1990
(none of whom are anything like the girls in this story!)
and our fun and fabulous school reunion.
Contents
ONE
In all her thirty-two years, Zoe Montgomery had never once entertained a truly violent thought, but if one more person asked her whether she had a husband and children and then tutted in sympathy when she said she had neither she was going to have to hit something hard. Possibly the gin.
Did it matter that she’d been running her own mystery shopping agency for the past five years and was responsible for a two-million-pound turnover? No, it did not. Did anyone care that she’d started off refurbishing a tiny studio flat in an insalubrious part of London, sold it for double what she’d paid and had subsequently leapt up the property ladder to the spacious Hoxton maisonette she lived in now? Of course they didn’t. And what about the doctorate she’d toiled over for five long but happy years? Did that have them gasping in awe? Not a bit of it.
All