Free Secrets of the Rich & Famous by Charlotte Phillips - Secrets of the Rich, Famous

added.
    As she put her empty coffee cup down on the table he got to his feet and reached for it.
    ‘I’ll make some more coffee,’ he said.
    She grabbed his hand as he picked up her mug. Sparks of heat tingled through his wrist and zipped down his spine. There was something so alluring about her—and it messed with his body, not just with his mind. Her upturned face was imploring, the blue eyes clear.
    ‘I’m no threat to you. I honestly have no interest in making trouble for you. And we’re not that different. You told me you started out with ideas above your station and that’s what I’ve got. I just need this chance.’
    He looked into the pleading blue eyes. He must be mad.
    She took her hand back and he straightened up, made his way back to the kitchen, knowing that he should be ejecting her from the apartment right now.
    She was right about selling her story. She could still make life difficult for him if she wanted to.
    He had a choice. He could make her move out now, take a chance that any fuel she added to the scandal fire would be short-lived. Orhe could go along with her crazy scheme, get the gag order in place and keep her here with him for the month. The inherent danger in that thought made his pulse-rate climb. He ignored it.
    It burned that he was expected to toe the line of the studios, the management, to restrain his private life. After clawing his way up from nothing to get where he was, and having been knocked halfway down again by Susan, being held back in any way now was abhorrent to him. His one failed attempt at family life had been dissected and trampled on by the media. Living the high life was payback for that. He enjoyed spending time in the company of beautiful women, but he never let it get serious enough to have emotional consequences. Let them print that he was screwing this model, or that actress. He didn’t care whether it was true or not.
    Jen wanted him to spend a bit of time giving his opinion on clothes and the like? How hard could that be? With his social life reined in he’d have plenty of time on his hands. Let her stay here and work on her mad project. It would give him a few laughs if nothing else. And he’d far rather look at her long legs and big blue eyes than stare at these four walls.
    He could tell Mark he’d secured her silence. No need to mention that he’d given in a little on the terms of the agreement. Or that he foundthe prospect of spending a month living side-by-side with Jen dangerously attractive.
    He refilled their coffee cups and made his way back into the den. He stopped in the doorway. She was curled up in the corner of the sofa, brown hair spilling over the cushion, sleeping. His heart turned over gently. For a split second he toyed with picking her up and carrying her to her bed. And then the memory of the other night drifted back—the thought of her beneath him, his for the taking. He mouth felt too dry all of a sudden.
    There was kicking back and there was recklessness.
    He put the coffee down on the table and grabbed the hideous patchwork throw she was so attached to. He tucked it around her and left the room.
    Every movement around the kitchen jarred Jen’s aching head. She cooked dry toast, took headache pills, then sat on one of the stools and swigged orange juice. All the usual tricks for dealing with a hangover. If she was going to feel this grim at the very least she should have had the luxury of memory loss—the kind where you missed hour-long sections from the previous night as if you’d been abducted by aliens rather than drunk too much champagne.
    The humiliation of being escorted from theexhibition by Alex played on a loop in her head. She’d tossed a drink over a member of the aristocracy. For a professional journalist she knew her behaviour had been pitiful. And the
coup de grâce
that really made her cringe? Collapsing in Alex Hammond’s arms on the gallery steps. Her face burned just at the thought of it. That they hadn’t