Книга - This Is Love: Illusion of Love / From My Heart

This Is Love: Illusion of Love / From My Heart
Nana Malone

Sienna Mynx


Valentine’s Day holds sensual and sexy surprises in these two irresistible stories…Illusion of Love, Nana MaloneValentine Anderson’s parents clearly gave her the wrong first name. Her last two relationships ended on Valentine’s Day, and her current one implodes right before her sister’s wedding. Then the dashing and adventurous photographer next door suggests a fake relationship to keep her family and his boss’s over-attentive wife at bay. It’s just an act, until Val starts acting on her impulses…and make-believe becomes undeniably too real!From My Heart, Sienna MynxFirst Aniyah Stevens is jilted a week before her wedding. Now she’s stuck with the bill for a romantic and lavish Italian honeymoon. Rising above her disappointment, she goes solo—only to find that it’s a couples only getaway. Charming resort owner Niccolo Montenegro has his own heartache to bear. But kindred spirit Aniyah tempts him with an offer that could make their Valentine’s Day memorable for all the right reasons…







Valentine’s Day holds sensual and sexy surprises in these two irresistible stories...

Illusion of Love by Nana Malone

Valentine Anderson’s parents clearly gave her the wrong first name. Her last two relationships ended on Valentine’s Day, and her current one implodes right before her sister’s wedding. Then the dashing and adventurous photographer next door suggests a fake relationship to keep her family and his boss’s overattentive wife at bay. It’s just an act, until Val starts acting on her impulses...and make-believe becomes undeniably too real!

From My Heart by Sienna Mynx

First Aniyah Stevens is jilted a week before her wedding. Now she’s stuck with the bill for a romantic and lavish Italian honeymoon. Rising above her disappointment, she goes solo—only to find that it’s a couples-only getaway. Charming resort owner Niccolo Montenegro has his own heartache to bear. But kindred spirit Aniyah tempts him with an offer that could make their Valentine’s Day memorable for all the right reasons...


Illusion of Love

by Nana Malone

With a deep inhale, she said, “Well, good night, Bennett. Tonight was fun.”

His gaze dropped to her lips. “It was.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow for the photos if you’re still interested.”

“Oh, I’m interested.”

Val wished she had more time to mentally brace herself, but when Bennett leaned close she couldn’t move. Not a millimeter. All she wanted was his lips on hers, making her feel alive. Like the ride on his bike.

When he stepped close to her body, his whisper was low, harsh. “I have been dying to do this since you opened the door tonight.”



From My Heart

by Sienna Mynx

“I guess this is good night,” she said. “Thanks again.”

She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek but her gesture was off by a fraction of an inch, bringing her mouth to the corner of his. Niccolo wasn’t sure what came over him, but it happened with lightning-like speed. He turned his face and he kissed her. She gasped and went into his arms, opening her mouth fully to him. He brought an arm around her. Lust was rising up so hard and fast he was unable to keep it down.


NANA MALONE is a USA TODAY bestselling author. Her love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she borrowed from her cousin on a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana at a precocious thirteen. She’s been in love with kick-butt heroines ever since. You’ll find Nana working hard on additional books for her series. And if she’s not working or hiding in the closet reading, she’s acting out scenes for her husband, daughter and puppy in sunny San Diego.

SIENNA MYNX writes contemporary and historical multicultural romance. Her dramatic tales of forbidden love are for readers who love bad boys and desire to be the one to tame them. Sienna currently has thirty-four published books both as an indie author and with Harlequin Kimani Romance.

To learn more about future releases and projects currently underway, please visit The Diva’s Pen, thedivaspen.com (http://www.thedivaspen.com).


This is Love

Illusion of Love

Nana Malone

From my Heart

Sienna Mynx






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Contents

Cover (#uc2c17370-0bba-5b10-bda6-74675b7a907e)

Back Cover Text (#uf90a65bc-117a-554b-9597-f08bc9d49cea)

Introduction (#u27a4edd7-e71a-544a-bcd5-ed98370b54f8)

About the Authors (#ufb95f374-714c-5e1a-b342-32556a306678)

Title Page (#ua36ad79d-862a-58ec-a6dd-7d9f9217fa29)

Illusion of Love (#u1ac41c2f-1e0a-5966-beea-afaf0e40c233)

Chapter 1 (#u99597b0c-d347-5335-a421-bef3b9dcbc14)

Chapter 2 (#ulink_b4a014cd-6c05-5f6a-a1c3-06a40589c6f5)

Chapter 3 (#ulink_be3eb559-a07b-5d80-8195-e57bf7527af6)

Chapter 4 (#ulink_79ed413e-114d-5a71-90a7-ae9609569486)

Chapter 5 (#ulink_faea4a93-2627-5e2c-95a0-9ce63e5bc1ab)

Chapter 6 (#ulink_e7db9dba-b9ae-510d-a7c0-263a5a978198)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)

From My Heart (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 1 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 2 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 3 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 4 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Illusion of Love (#uce5cf9b9-7bad-5145-a0cd-9b8b74c7316e)

Nana Malone


To Erik, I love you. You know why.


Dear Reader (#uce5cf9b9-7bad-5145-a0cd-9b8b74c7316e)

Thank you so much for reading Illusion of Love. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am Type A to the max! I love rules, plans and schedules. In Illusion of Love, I can feel Val’s pain when she meets her complete opposite, Bennett. He frustrates her and pushes her to step out of the box. As someone who married her total opposite, I’ll tell you, it makes for a fun adventure.

Next up for me—more books, including more Kimani Romances. So sit back, relax and happy reading!

If you want to chat with me, I’m pretty easy to find!

Nana Malone

www.nanamalone.com (http://www.nanamalone.com)www.Facebook.com/nanamalonewriter (https://www.facebook.com/nanamalonewriter)www.Twitter.com/nanamalone (https://twitter.com/nanamalone)


Chapter 1 (#ulink_4e58fa78-09a5-5b90-b7f6-ea3c251f872a)

Something was very wrong.

Valentine Anderson shifted in her oh-so-pretty Louboutins as she stared at her boyfriend. He was gesturing nervously and talking. Almost babbling. But try as she might to concentrate, all she heard was a monotone drone. Focus, Val. She forced her ears to pay attention.

“Here’s the thing. I think you’re great... I wasn’t really looking for a relationship...you’re fantastic...it’s not you, it’s me... I really care about you, but I need to find myself.”

The find myself excuse was her personal favorite. Because it invited her to all those ragey places deep inside, where she never allowed herself to go. But then this was the third time she was being dumped on or just before Valentine’s Day. She was allowed to get a little furious...right? Especially because this time she needed a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day.

If she had time to analyze, she’d examine all the possible reasons why her last two boyfriends had dumped her when everything was seemingly fine.

First, there’d been Alejandro. Brazilian. Beautiful, with all that tanned skin and a brilliant smile. He’d claimed that they were getting too serious. He was the first finder of self.

Then there was Tyrell, though, really, she should have known better than to date a professional athlete. Tyrell was a beautiful man. All dark chocolate skin, combined with a wicked smile that was a pure invitation to sin. And sin he had...with her neighbor, and her hairstylist...and her masseuse.

And now James. It was three weeks to go before her sister’s wedding on V Day and here she was hearing all the usual excuses.

“Like I said, I think you’re great. You’re just a bit...rigid for me.”

Her brows snapped down. Say what now? “Rigid?”

He nodded enthusiastically, as if thrilled that she seemed to understand. “Yeah, I mean, you’re a food blogger, so I thought you’d be more adventurous. In and out of bed. I thought we’d do more things and travel more, but you’re really set in your routine.”

Relax your jaw, Val. You keep clenching like this and you’re going to crack a molar...again. “So you’re breaking up with me because I didn’t drop my life at a moment’s notice to go to Montreal with you.”

His eyes widened, as if he suddenly realized this would not be the calm breakup he’d anticipated. “No. Of course not. It’s everything, really.” He held up his hands. “I mean, obviously, we have chemistry. We do, but I need someone who’s more fluid with life and open to ideas. You don’t need me. Hell, you certainly don’t want my opinion...”

As he talked, her mind raced. Yes, it sucked to be dumped. And even more it sucked to be dumped by someone like James. At the end of the day, she’d liked him, but she knew they weren’t going to be a super long-term thing. But he was nice—at least she’d thought he was. But boy, oh, boy, the man whined. A lot.

But he’d been good enough to hang out with and at the very least show up at her sister’s wedding with.

Her sister, Solstice, was getting married in a matter of weeks, and Val knew better than to show up to that wedding alone. No way was she going to yet another family function on her own. To have to endure her mother and aunties and sister bemoaning how she could possibly still be single was a special kind of torture. On her own...unloved. Never mind that she’d tried a million times to tell them that she wasn’t lonely. That she had a perfectly full life with her job and her friends.

But the women in her family were old-school. Not even old-school as much as they defined how happy they could be in life only by what man loved them at the moment. Oh, and God forbid it was the wrong kind of man. Then everyone in the family would descend on him like a pack of vultures, leaving nothing left but a carcass.

James was supposed to be her avoid-criticism card. But now it was go directly to singledom hell. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200.

The elevator dinged as James stumbled through his breakup speech, and all she wanted to do was climb into her bed and forget the whole night. That was until she caught sight of her neighbor Bennett Cooper strolling down the hall with a gorgeous brunette in tow.

Cue the grinding teeth again. The guy was the definition of bad neighbor. Loud music. A revolving door of women. Parties that went on all night. He had zero respect.

He also made her edgy. The constant awareness, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, was almost uncomfortable to bear whenever he was around. Every time he was near, she sat on razor’s edge. Val was not a fan.

Maybe it was the way his intense green eyes tracked her, or the tattoos over his tanned flesh and whipcord-lean body with ridiculously defined muscles...if you liked that sort of thing. Her libido sat up and strutted. As if to say, Hello, I like that sort of thing.

There was no way she was going to be humiliated in front of him. She turned to rush James along. “James, if you’re dropping me, say the words and get it over with. I have things to do.”

* * *

Bennett Cooper needed a way out. How the hell had he ended up in this position?

When he’d agreed to a contract with publishing magnate Milton Voss, he’d been thinking of all the ways it would boost his career. Bennett might have the perfect dream job of photographing models, but he wanted more, and Voss could give it to him. For the last week, Bennett had been thinking about all the places he would travel. He’d been thinking this job meant the opportunity to make his father proud. He hadn’t been thinking about Voss’s wife. The same wife who had made a pass at him at his gallery opening last year. He’d managed to extricate himself from that situation, but tonight—tonight was a whole other ball game.

You have options, Ben. He could quit. But that wasn’t in his nature. And he didn’t run from a fight. Except from the unpleasant memories from your past. Damn, he really didn’t need a subconscious battle right now. He needed an escape route.

Grabbing a drink downstairs with the creative director of Voss Magazines had been a good idea. The two of them saw eye to eye on a few things. While Voss owned the usual smatterings of sports magazines and women’s magazines, the real passion in the company was nature conservation. Those were the kind of photos that would challenge Bennett and save the world. The kind of photos his father had taken. Game changers.

Not that he was opposed to fashion photography. Fashion came with models. And, well, models...enough said. But he’d always wanted to do more. Be more.

For years, his career had been growing steadily. Luckily he’d been able to avoid too many years as an assistant. At the point that his own street photographs with models he’d taken for free started to outshine those of his paid mentors, his phone had begun to ring off the hook. He’d never thought the scared, orphaned kid from Cali would ever have to say no to too much love. Except he had. But now everything was in jeopardy because Adriana Voss thought she had the hots for him.

His meeting with Stephen had wrapped up and he’d stayed to finish his drink. Next thing he knew, Adriana turned up, looking to see his latest pieces. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew a setup when he saw one. She’d fooled Stephen into inviting her along or she’d checked his schedule. Either way it spelled bad news for Bennett.

The moment she wound her arm around his waist and lifted his drink before pressing it to her lips, he’d known he was in trouble. All kinds of trouble. Not that Adriana wasn’t beautiful. She was. Even though she was pushing forty at least, she was stunning. With curves to give a man fantasies and a face that could easily have launched a thousand ships, she was the kind of woman that Bennett would happily have slept with. If she wasn’t married.

That was a deal breaker for him. Yes, he was a womanizer. He loved women. A variety of women. And they were plentiful and available. But he didn’t do married women. Not just for the headache, but also because, well, wrong. Second, he liked his boss. Genuinely liked the man, so he wasn’t going there. But he had to be careful, because Adriana was well-known for her...vindictive streak.

“Benny, I can’t wait to see your latest work. I mean, I made poor Milton buy every single photograph that wasn’t already nailed down at your gallery the last time.”

He swallowed hard. “It’s Bennett, actually. Either Bennett or Ben.” Benny had been his mother’s nickname for him. It hurt to hear it.

“Okay, Bennett it is, then. Do you still have some of those self nudes you took?”

This was not his lucky day. The self nudes weren’t really nudes. Just an illusion as he’d paid respect to one of his favorite artists. They stepped onto the elevator and he tried to think fast. He could pretend to get a call. He could call his best friend, Trevor, over. He could feign a tapeworm. Something...anything. Because no matter what he did, he would lose his job. But that wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t let it.

Adriana clung to his arm and he sighed. Think. Think. You can do this, Bennett. And then he saw it, his salvation. His prickly-as-hell neighbor. The two of them were not friends. Like, at all. Hell, they weren’t even friendly. She was uptight and bossy, and a pain in his ass. She was always asking the co-op board to stop him from having parties.

His place was a work and live loft, just like hers. He couldn’t help it if his lifestyle was more fun. He wasn’t sure what it was she did for a living, but he knew she was tense. Like she had a stick jammed so far up her... Well, he’d just leave it at that. And she was with that needle-necked douche waffle she called a boyfriend.

Bennett was not a fan. Especially as the guy had hit on one of the models who left his place after a New Year’s Eve shoot. He doubted Miss Prim and Proper knew about that. God, what he wouldn’t give to rumple her up just a little. She’d probably never even dated a guy like him before, someone with edge, who didn’t buy his clothes from the Nerds ‘r’ Us line. She had a type, and Bennett knew he wasn’t it. But for tonight, maybe he could be.

Because right about now, it looked like Needle Neck was dumping her. What? Was that the second guy on or around Valentine’s Day? The guy was dragging it out. Rookie mistake. When Bennett heard her say, “Can we get this show on the road?” it solidified his plan. He just prayed she didn’t knee him in the balls.

Though given the alternative, he didn’t really have much choice. “Ah, Adriana, look, you get to meet my girlfriend.”

Voss’s wife blinked up at him as if she was trying to compute the words. “G-girlfriend? I was told you were single.”

He shook his head. “Not sure who told you that. But that’s my girl, Valentine.”

Adriana’s brows drew up. “What kind of name is Valentine?”

Easy does it, mean girl. “It’s the one her parents gave her.” Carlton Banks twin was winding down, so Bennett only had a second to make this work if he was going to do it. He extricated himself from Adriana’s astonishingly tight grasp. And strode right for Valentine. Her dark eyes widened as she watched him in surprise.

Easy on the family jewels, sweetheart. “Hi, baby. I see you’re finally having that talk with John.”

Pencil Pusher’s brows rose. “It’s James, actually.”

Bennett shrugged. “Whatever.”

Valentine stared at him, full lips parted and dark eyes wide. Bennett deliberately nudged James aside and went for it. Go big or go broke, right? He wound an arm around her waist, his mind briefly registering that she smelled like honeysuckle. And that she looked surprisingly sexy in her flared pink dress. But he didn’t have time to drink in the image. He had a career to save.

Her soft gasp of shock was all he cataloged as he dipped his head and brushed his lips against hers. On first contact, his mind went blank. Completely absent of thought as joules of electricity shot through him, and he was forced to go on instinct.

She could have shoved at him, she could have kneed him in the nuts, and she could have slapped him. But Valentine Anderson did none of those things. What she did was make this sexy little mewling sound in the back of her throat, and Bennett lost his mind.

With that sound, she completely erased the present for him. No longer were they in the hallway with an audience, but they were alone, wrapped in a cocoon of just the two of them. Muttering a groan, he tested and delved his tongue inside her parted lips, and she responded by welcoming him with a slide of her own tongue.

She tasted sweet and hot, and so damn decadent that he automatically slid his hands down her back to tuck her against him.

But then something intruded into their space. Into their little safe haven. It wasn’t her. Her nails dug into his shirt pulling him closer. And hell if he didn’t want to be closer. He’d explore that little tidbit later.

There were words. Not his, not hers, other people’s. Then the fog started to lift from his brain. Right. Carlton’s twin and...oh, yeah, Adriana. He didn’t want to stop kissing her, though. But he wanted to do it when they had more time, because just kissing her was enough to set his whole body on fire.

“Excuse me, Bennett.”

Tearing his lips from Valentine’s, he dragged his eyes open. He acknowledged Adriana’s clipped words, but he couldn’t look away from the neighbor, who up until now he’d always thought of her as the Pain in the Ass. “Yeah, Adriana?”

“Are we going to look at the artwork?”

Artwork? Artwork? What? Oh, yeah. He turned slowly. “Do you mind if I bring them by Voss later this week? I didn’t realize Valentine was going to be home, and with our schedules—I know you understand.” More like no way in hell are you coming into my apartment.

She narrowed her eyes at Valentine and tipped up her chin. “Fine. We’ll talk later.”

“Sure thing,” Bennett said. He held his breath until the elevator doors closed on Adriana. Then he turned his attention back to James. “You’re still here?”

James’s mouth hung open, and Valentine stared. Bennett just kept his arm tucked around Valentine’s waist. She didn’t move away, nor did she say anything.

“Y-you two are together?” James asked.

Bennett held his breath. What was she going to say? Would she go along with the charade?

When she started to speak, her voice was deeper, huskier. “Yeah, James. This is actually why I wanted to go to dinner tonight. When you started to break up with me, I figured I’d let you take the out. This obviously isn’t working. And Bennett and I are a...” Her voice trailed off as she cleared her throat. “...a thing.”

Bennett bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Sure. Thing worked. “Hit the skids, James.” The guy looked like he was going to argue, but then Bennett tucked her against his side more firmly. How had he never noticed how sexy she was? She was petite, but her body was a dream. And her soft breasts pressed into his side were a hell of a distraction.

James scowled and rolled his eyes, but with a muttered epithet or two under his breath, he headed down the hall for the elevator as well.

The moment the guy was out of earshot, the two of them jumped apart and Valentine rounded on him. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”

“Are you kidding me right now? I just saved you face. No humiliating breakup. Or do you mean to tell me that you wanted that sweater vest–wearing asswipe to dump you?”

“Where do you get off?” she muttered through clenched teeth.

It wasn’t his fault. Honestly, it wasn’t. But his lips twitched. He sometimes had the humor of a twelve-year-old boy. “Isn’t that kind of a personal question, considering we just had our first kiss? But if you must know, the sho—”

Her eyes widened to saucers, and she covered her ears. “Oh. My. God. Do not share. You know what, from now on, you keep you and your thoughts to yourself.”

Bennett grinned at her. “Come on, admit it. That was the hottest kiss you’ve had in months, if ever.” Valentine’s mouth hung open as she blinked at him. Once, then again. Then she snapped her mouth shut, stepped back into her apartment and slammed the door in his face.

Oh, yeah, that went well.


Chapter 2 (#ulink_0eeb1ce1-81b8-5d36-97c0-fc08052c77f8)

Bennett Cooper was an arrogant, inconsiderate, rude jerk. He had women in his place all the time, and besides his music, sometimes she could hear...his other activities. Not that she was listening.

Her loft unit and Bennett’s were both on the south side of the building, and they both had wraparound decks that met in the middle. She faced the southwest and he the southeast, and both of them had a stunning view of lower Manhattan. She’d picked this building because it had a doorman, and it was exclusive.

Her foodie app and lifestyle brand had taken off two years ago, and her blog had blown up. Unfortunately that meant unwanted attention, making the doorman a necessity. But instead of exclusivity, she’d ended up with a neighbor from hell.

Val leaned against her door, too afraid to look through the peephole to see if he was still out there. Just the thought was enough to make butterflies dance low in her belly.

Slipping her feet out of the three-inch stunners, she slid her back against the door until she landed on her butt with a soft plop.

Touching her lips tentatively, she went over every distinct flavor and smell of him. The reason she was so good at what she did, the reason her blog and her brand were so popular, was her superior sense of smell and ability to taste all the ingredients and ferret out specific scents. Though her innate ability made her an anomaly, it also made her excellent at her job, and in a controlled environment her hyperosmia didn’t get in the way of her normal life. For the most part.

Growing up had been difficult, though. Every smell assaulting her everywhere she went. And if someone couldn’t cook, God help her. She could practically taste where things went wrong just from the aroma alone. And the bummer of it was she loved food. From burgers and cheesesteaks to filet mignon. But it had to be flavorful and it had to be good, or she couldn’t eat it.

Her current problem was, while she loathed Bennett I’m the Neighbor from Hell Cooper, the man smelled good. Like better than good. Like steal one of his T-shirts and tuck it under her pillow good. In a totally nonstalkery way. He smelled of sandalwood and musk. And that odor set her every nerve ending on high alert in a good way. The scent of him still clung to her, and she just wanted to hug it to her and breathe deep.

Yes, she had problems. The other issue was the man tasted incredible. Tonight he’d had scotch. The good stuff. Something smoky and divine. He also tasted a little like mint. Not the kind that had so much sugar added that it obscured the taste of the actual mint. And there was something else there. Something sweet and delicious that she could eat all damn day, with one of those tiny dessert spoons where one bite was so decadent and delicious, you had to savor every bite. Yes, that was how he tasted.

And that was why this was trouble. Because he was the devil. With too much charm and far too much arrogance. And also because she’d never be able to look at him again without thinking about how good he tasted. Like she needed that headache.

And then, of course, there was James. Bennett Cooper kissing her had had one and only one upside...that she was willing to acknowledge, anyway. James hadn’t been able to break up with her properly. She’d been the one to dump him. By way of a kiss. It was juvenile, but it felt good. To not have to hear the implication You’re not good enough for me. I want someone better. Bennett Cooper and his wicked tongue had put her on top. Wouldn’t you love to be on top of him?

Oh. My. God. This was bad. Terrible. She didn’t want him. But now her body had Bennett on the libido and it wasn’t going away. This called for reinforcements.

Dragging out her phone, she video dialed her best friend and started talking as soon as Mel answered. “James tried to dump me and the aggravating neighbor boy kissed me.”

Her best friend waited two whole beats before speaking. “Honey, let me pop some popcorn, then you need to start from the beginning.

The popping popcorn was just a metaphor, so Val launched into the retelling of the second half of her night, down to the tongue teasing from Bennett-you-have-no-business-thinking-about-that-man-naked, sliding his tongue in between her lips and making her forget her name.

When she was done, Mel sat back on her couch. “Okay, first of all, I want that kiss story one more time at a later date, because that is the hottest thing I have ever heard. Second, good riddance on James.”

“Good riddance? Are you forgetting that I need a date in three weeks? I can’t show up alone again. I can’t take it. And it’s Sol’s wedding. I can’t skip it. But I am not making the trek to Princeton to have my whole family shake their head about how I cannot keep a man.”

“Okay, good point there, but maybe since hot neighbor boy kissed you, you can take him.”

Val stared at her friend. “I think you’ve lost your mind.”

Mel held up her hand. “Hear me out. You keep dating these versions of he who shall not be named.” Marcus, her ex from college. He’d been the perfect guy. Entrepreneur, good-looking. He’d done the whole Jack and Jill cotillion thing. Her parents loved him. But he’d broken up with her just before graduation, because he had political aspirations and he didn’t think she fit the bill of a politician’s wife. She’d been devastated, of course. And her family had blamed her.

“I do not,” Val muttered.

“Let the record show, Alejandro and Tyrell and now James. All essentially carbon copies of each other. Stop trying to re-create the past. I mean, did you even like James?”

“Of course I liked James.”

Mel raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What did he taste like?”

Only Mel understood how Val categorized the men she dated. “I—”

“Go on, I’m waiting.”

Val sighed. “He tasted like store-brand chocolate. Bland, overly sweetened and waxy.”

“See? Who wants to kiss waxy for the rest of their life? And come on, you couldn’t even bring yourself to sleep with the guy.”

Val’s mouth hung open. “Oh, my God. Would you stop?”

“Or did you mange that and somehow forget to tell me?”

“Okay, fine. But we were taking it slow.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mel rolled her dark eyes. “So slow you were avoiding sleeping with him. Come on. You should have been done with him in the first week. Him and those sweater vests? He wasn’t even hip enough to pull off that common look. You kept him because you figured it would be better to go home with someone than alone.”

There were times in her life that she hated it when Mel was right. Times like this. “So, what, you suggest I find the nearest guy with a motorcycle, then ask for a ride?”

Mel howled with laughter. “Depends. Does hot neighbor ride a motorcycle?”

Val groaned. Come to think of it, he did have one. But she only ever noticed it in the summertime, when he brought it out of storage. “Yes, but that’s hardly the point. Come on, I need a solution for the wedding.”

“Okay, I’ll come by tomorrow, and we’ll go over all your options. Make you a fancy pro/con list for each available option and we’ll fix this.”

Val hung up with Mel and laid her head back against the door. Absently she played her fingertips along her lips. They still tingled from the remembered kiss, and her body was still far too warm for her liking.

Bennett Cooper wasn’t on the list of potentials. Bad boy was so not her thing. It didn’t matter how well he could kiss.


Chapter 3 (#ulink_f0a88b92-33cd-578d-926d-9de2c1bb7d56)

Bennett had taken a calculated risk, and right about now he was sure that Adriana Voss was ready to kill him. Or have him fired...or jump his bones. He wasn’t sure which. But none of those options worked for him. This job didn’t just mean he’d get to shoot wildlife. It opened up his whole career. Voss owned more than just the magazine company. His name was all over galleries, museums and documentary exhibitions.

As promised, he’d taken the portfolio in to Voss Magazines’ main offices. Even though her title was basically an empty one, as VP of styling or something like that, Adriana still had an office and still showed up to work. Apparently, Voss wanted his wife close to keep an eye on her.

When Bennett asked her assistant to see her, Adriana had come out with a saccharine smile and a suit that said nothing about this is work appropriate. It was one of those couture thingies that looked good on a model walking down the runway, but in real life, on a woman with curves, it was too low cut and too tight for the office.

But he’d gone in with a smile. “I’m so sorry we didn’t get a chance to go over these the other day, but Val and I hadn’t seen each other in a while, and, well, you know how it is. I saw her ex sniffing around her and had to lay claim to my girl.” Did he sound as much like an idiot as he thought he did?

Adriana pinned him with a shrewd glare. “And how long have you two been seeing each other?”

Damn. Bennett swallowed hard. He made a good chameleon. He’d learned early to be all things to all people. Sweet and sensitive one minute. Aggro hard-ass the next. He was good at reading people and showing them the facets of his personality they needed to see.

What he was not good at, however, was outright lying. It never worked out in his favor, and he preferred not to do it. But he’d started this mess the other night, so there was no backing out now. “It’s been on and off for a few months—with our schedules, you know. But we’ve recently decided to make it exclusive.”

She crossed her arms. “Oh, really? How recently? Because I remember Carmela Alvos bragging about how intimate your photo session was.”

He held back a groan. Carmela was a bald-faced liar. She’d tried, but he hadn’t been interested. Not that he was going to quibble. Because, he had to face it, he had a type. “Nothing happened with Carmela. Val and I just needed some space. Time to work things out.”

“Well, that’s just...lovely. And you’re serious?” Her brow lifted.

Bennett didn’t know where this conversation was going, exactly, but it seemed to be headed down Nowhere Good Road and he wasn’t having it. “To be honest, I proposed to her last night.”

He would have laughed at Adriana’s slack-jawed, pinched-nose expression if it didn’t mean his future would be in jeopardy.

“Wow. Then I guess congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you. She’s a great girl.” The way he figured it, he’d start traveling soon for Voss and give Adriana a wide berth. She’d never find out the truth.

“That’s great. I’d love to get to know her better. Why don’t you bring her to the house this weekend for a dinner party we’re having?”

Oh, hell. “I’m not sure she’s free.”

Adriana’s eyes narrowed. “Well, you can just come.”

Not on your life, barracuda. “We’ll see what we have going on.”

“You do that.”

By the time he made his escape, Bennett felt on edge, his skin tight. He needed to get out and shoot. Then he’d feel better. He could take all this shit off-line and breathe for a minute. Thanks to Val, who was a surprisingly good kisser, he’d had a sleepless night on Sunday. And yesterday hadn’t been much better. He’d had a catalog shoot in the park, but he hadn’t been into it at all. He needed to get his headspace back and away from the two women who were occupying far too much of it.

After a quick subway hop home, he jogged inside just in time to catch the elevator doors as they were closing. “Hey, hold that a second.”

The person inside fumbled with something, but Bennett got to the door and held it open just before it closed. Only to find Valentine on the phone and carrying two large grocery bags from the Fresh and Ready on the corner.

She blinked dark eyes up at him, and for a moment, all he could do was stare. How had he never noticed how cute she was before? She was a tiny little thing. Nearly a foot smaller than he was. That put her maybe around five feet three inches, give or take. Her skin was luminescent. Dark and smooth, it reminded him of liquid milk chocolate. Another woman’s voice rang in the elevator. “I swear, Valentine, you have to go to these events. You can’t just turn up for the wedding. You’re needed for the shower, and the rehearsal.”

She was talking on speaker, the phone on top of the groceries.

“Mom, I’ll call you back, okay?”

“No, not okay. And can you please tell me if James is coming for sure so I can do the place settings? You have been dodging me for months with this. They are going to the engravers tomorrow and I need to know. And while we’re at it...”

As the other woman droned on, Valentine’s gaze pinned to his and the current of electricity nearly poleaxed him. Hell. He needed to get it together. He pushed their floor number again and scooted in next to her.

“Mom, please, let me just—”

“I swear, Valentine, it’s like you don’t want to spend any time with your family. Let’s not forget that you agreed to be part of this wedding, and you living on your own like a recluse in the city, it’s just—”

“Mom, please. I will call you back.”

“You always say that, then I have to chase you down. I mean, that vagabond life you live. Why can’t you just use your economics degree and get a job in finance? Or even better, find a man in finance so that you don’t have to work. Not like being a blogger is work, mind you.”

Bennett shouldn’t have been listening. Really. He should have been paying attention to the numbers on the elevator as they went floor by floor. But he was riveted. He watched her face, dying to know how she’d shut down her mother. To be fair, her gaze never left his, either.

“Mom. I love you. I have to go.” She tried to use her chin to end the call, but that just sent the bag of groceries tipping over.

With a curse, she tried to recover and the sound of the tearing bag echoed over the walls. Bennett dived for the falling phone and milk. Valentine wobbled in her heels. He saved the milk but not the phone. And not the other bag that followed as Val grabbed for her phone.

Oranges and other fruit rolled onto the floor as a bottle of wine skidded out of her hold.

The good news was, the woman on the phone stopped haranguing her daughter. The bad news was as Val stared at the contents of her bags on the floor, her eyes welled with tears.

Shit. Bennett had a lot of experience with women. A lot. Yes, he was a bit of a man whore. But one thing he was not comfortable with were tears. She just looked so vulnerable, he wanted to tuck her in for a hug. What the hell is wrong with you?

When the elevator doors slid open on their floor, he hit the stop button. “Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

He let himself in to his apartment and grabbed his grocery bags. When he came back in less than a minute, Valentine was desperately trying to gather all her things into her arms.

“Here you go.”

She shook her head stiffly. “I think my humiliation is complete. Thank you. But you don’t have to help me. I got this. I can do it.”

He merely shrugged. “Everyone needs help sometimes.” When he had retrieved the last of the wayward fruit, including some spiked yellow thing he couldn’t identify, he stood tall. “Go on, I’m right behind you.”

Her phone started to ring on the floor again, and she picked it up but didn’t look at it. Just shoved it into her pocket. “Thank you,” she muttered. Then she let him into her apartment.

To say he was surprised would have been an understatement. Sure, he’d seen glimpses of her sheer white curtains but he figured given her stiffness, she’d have a sterile beige kind of place. He couldn’t be more wrong. Everywhere he turned there was color. Bold and bright. All seamlessly blended together.

“You got it from here?” he asked as she put the bags on the counter.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about the elevator. I’m sort of mortified.”

“It happens. Everyone has a bad day from time to time.”

“’Kay. Well, see you.”

He debated not asking for her help. But as he was here and he needed a hand, too, he might as well. “Okay, so about the other night.”

She shook her head. “Oh, we are not doing this conversation. I’m pretending it didn’t happen.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the thing. That woman I was with—that’s my boss’s wife.”

She gasped. “You two were...cozy.”

“Yeah, not to my liking. I told her you and I were together to get her off my case, but now she wants to have the two of us for dinner at her place. And given what I heard on the phone, I think maybe the two of us can help each other out.”

For one long beat, she stared at him. “You realize this, right here, is the longest conversation we’ve ever had with each other?”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is you don’t even know me. But you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

“Fiancée, actually.”

A bark of laughter tore out of her. “You’re nuts.”

“Look, you need a date or whatever to some wedding, it sounds like, and I need a fiancée. This is win-win.”

She took the grocery bags and turned them upside down, emptying them before shoving them back at him. “We can’t stand each other. You with your tattoos and your loud punk music or whatever.”

He frowned. “Excuse me, that’s classic rock.”

“Whatever. No. You are all wrong. If you have a clean-cut brother, I’m down. But you and I will not mesh. Not to mention that woman looked like she wanted to carve me up into pieces, so thanks, but no thanks.”

This was not the end of this conversation. “Okay, well, you think about it.”

“Answer’s no.”

“You want to tell me what you have against me?”

“You mean besides you being arrogant, loud, a womanizer, flirty and accosting me with kisses?”

He smirked. “You liked the kiss, I could tell.”

She stormed past him and opened her door. “Out.”

With a sigh he turned to go. “I’ll give you a couple days to think about it.” She rolled her eyes, but as he left, he could have sworn he saw her lips twitch. Well, at least it was a start. He had a few days to wear her down. He wasn’t going to the Voss house without her.

* * *

“So tell me exactly what happened. You came home with James, my least favorite friend, and then next thing you know your neighbor’s kissing you?”

“I have no idea what happened.” Val paced back and forth in her living room in front of the couch as Mel looked up at her. “One second, James was bumbling through a breakup, and the next thing I know Mr. Sexy and Tattooed and Terrible Neighbor was kissing me.”

“So exactly how did he kiss you?” Mel asked. “Was there tongue, or was it a peck? Did he hold you close up against him? Or was it one of those cases where he just leaned in with his face?”

Val considered. Her mind ran through the kiss over and over again like a movie reel. Bennett with his direct stride and intense focus on her. Bennett wrapping his arm around her waist and sliding one into her hair and then tucking her against him intimately as he lowered his lips. “Yeah, he definitely had me pressed up against him.”

Mel hooted. “This is fantastic. Finally, someone we can dig our teeth into who isn’t a boring Marcus replacement.”

Val frowned at her best friend. They didn’t talk about Marcus, since he’d unceremoniously dumped her before her final exams senior year. Val didn’t like to reminisce about that period of time. Marcus and everything that came with him was better left forgotten.

Mel held up her hands. “Easy does it. All I’m saying is that ever since Marcus, you’ve been looking for that perfect Morris Chestnut kind of guy. You know, tall, athletic, charming as hell, great job, the right connections, the right schools. You’ve pretty much been dating a cookie-cutter version of the same guy for the last five years, and it never works out for you.”

“You’re wrong. I am not trying to replace Marcus. So what if some of the guys have the same qualities? I happen to like those qualities.”

Mel shook her head. “No. Your parents like those qualities. You don’t know what you like.”

“Of course I know what I like.” Mel had no idea what she was talking about. Val knew what she liked. Of course she knew what she wanted. She dated. Yes, maybe she aspired for a very specific look. Tall, chocolate and in good shape. That didn’t make her super shallow, did it?

“No, you don’t. Because you’ve never dated anything other than the Marcus version. And let me just say, if you’re gonna date versions of Marcus, please upgrade. Do not downgrade. That makes no kind of sense. Now, I want to hear more about that sexy neighbor. He sounds like someone completely opposite to Marcus.”

Val’s stomach flipped at the mere mention of Bennett. Stupid hormones. So what if he made every nerve ending stand up and pay attention? There was more to a relationship than great chemistry. “No, not gonna happen. I don’t know what his deal was. But I’m not jumping on the gravy train.”

“Of course you’re not. Because you never do anything outside of your little box.” Before Val could even argue, Mel continued. “You’ve been saying for the last year how you want to shake up your life. With Sol getting married, you were trying to do your own thing. Break free a little of the usual expectations. What happened in that? Because James was not making that happen. And to make matters worse, he was calling you boring. How is that even possible?”

Yeah, the jackass had called her boring. That was hardly fair, especially since most times when he talked Val had to fight to stay awake. She hated it that Mel was right. But she had said for her New Year’s resolution that she wanted to try something different, something new. For once do things for herself. “Okay, fine. I might have said that, but it’s not like I’m not already doing that with my job. I take risks and chances all the time.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Mel tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You need to supercharge your life. Yes, you love your job, but sometimes I feel like one of the reasons you love your job is because you know it makes your family crazy.”

“Mel, you know how much I love what I do. I love to eat, and plus, with my nose and my senses, it’s a perfect fit.” Her nose had always been sensitive, but after an accident at age eight, her sense of smell raced off the charts.

“Fine. I hear you. I just want you to have joy in all areas of your life, not just work. And to do that, you’re going to have to stop doing the usual and step out of your comfort zone. You are the one who said you wanted to do that. It wasn’t me. Let’s face it, I’m lazy. I would never have agreed to such a thing for a New Year’s resolution. But then again, I don’t have sexy tattooed neighbors kissing me.”

“Damn, Mel. Do you have to bring him into this every couple of minutes? It’s already impossible to think about anything else.”

“That’s because your subconscious wants to think about him. Honey, would it hurt to do something different? What would you have to lose? Worst case scenario, you march over there asking why he kissed you, he says he doesn’t know, he was bored, then you two make out like a couple of teenagers.”

Val had to laugh at that. Mel could be ridiculous. But she also had a point. She wanted to shake up her life—well, this was one way to do it. “Fine, I’ll talk to neighbor boy. Are you happy now?”

“I won’t be happy unless you take him to Sol’s wedding and tell me he has a twin.”


Chapter 4 (#ulink_17f3ebe6-990b-53c4-8c18-bfdd17648832)

Nobody in their right mind would believe that Val was dating someone like Bennett. Nobody. Especially not her parents.

As she posted her latest review of a restaurant on Spring Street that did a killer Thai avocado salad, she glared at the wedding invitation pinned to her calendar.

Yes, she needed a date, but that guy? He had helped her with her groceries, and he was right, James was a jerk. And the look of irritation and annoyance on James’s face had been well worth it. But the most irritating part was that he was an excellent kisser. And he knew it.

That’s because the man has kissed a lot of women. She’d seen him. It wasn’t even speculation. More times than she could count, she’d seen him practically mauling some leggy model in his doorway.

Not that she could blame them. The man radiated sex appeal. But in no way was he appropriate. Like, at all. And she was way past the irritate-Daddy-with-my-new-boyfriend phase of her life. Not that she’d ever had that. She’d been the good one. Not that that ever made her parents happy. She’d bring home an A, her mother would ask why wasn’t it an A-plus. She’d make the lacrosse team, she’d ask why she wasn’t team captain. Never mind how great she was. She wasn’t good enough. Her father, while stern was warmer. Sometimes, he’d find her after her mother had just put her through the ringer and ask if she’d done her best. When she said yes, he’d say, “Great, then I’m proud of you.”

And truth was, she’d made things easy on her parents. She didn’t buck the system. She never met a rule or regulation that she didn’t follow.

Until, of course, instead of using her economics degree she’d started her own business. Blogging about food, no less. Her lifestyle brand had really started to take off during her last year at NYU. It was one thing to post funny commentary on ingredients. It was another thing to have people pay her for those opinions.

Val shut down her laptop and climbed into bed, carefully wrapping her hair in a satin scarf. After her career choice, she was pretty sure her mother would have an aneurysm if she showed up with someone like Bennett. What did he do, anyway? An artist or photographer, she wasn’t really sure. Hell, he could have been a badass biker who ran a motorcycle club, and she’d have no clue. Really time to get to know your neighbors better.

She didn’t mean to be a recluse. Well, not really. And maybe she was a bit rigid. But it was often easier to stay in her routine than change it. She’d taken enough risk in her life, thank you very much.

Val turned over and punched her pillow, picturing Bennett’s tempting smirk. Why was the man so infuriating? Something low in her belly pulled, and she groaned against the need.

No, she would not do this. Especially not because his raw sex appeal woke up everything inside her that screamed, Hello, I’m a woman. Again she repeated all the reasons why his little proposal was a bad idea. Artist. Unconventional. White. They wouldn’t have a fundamental problem with him being white, but the fact that he was different from every single man they’d shoved at her would rankle her mother. And well, he screamed bad boy.

No way her parents were going to let him in the door. They were professors at Princeton, for the love of God. Their tenured friends would wrinkle their little upturned noses when they saw him. And that would earn another disapproving glare from her mother. Oh, how Val had become accustomed to that glare.

Outside all that, she had her own reasons. She didn’t like him, for one. For two, he was obnoxious. And arrogant. Nobody would believe she would even look at him. Much less be engaged to him.

But he kissed better than any man had the right to, and she’d promised herself she’d do something different. Try something different. And if this wasn’t a shining beacon as to why she needed to, she didn’t know what was. Who gave a flying fig what anyone thought? She wasn’t going home alone. Just once she wanted to tell everyone to shut up. She didn’t care. Bringing Bennett home would certainly do that.

Val sat up and pulled the scarf off her head. She didn’t even pause as she opened her door and charged right up to his. If she hesitated, she’d think this through. She’d worry too much. She’d think about all the bad things, all the angles. She knocked briskly three times.

Though, given the soul-shaking decibels of Joe Cocker, she doubted he heard her. When he didn’t come, she knocked again. It took him another minute before he yanked open the door...shirtless. Wearing only a pair of jeans hanging very low on his waist.

Val could only stare. Damn. She’d only ever seen anybody this good-looking naked in a magazine. She was a food blogger, and sure, she worked with models. But they didn’t need to be shirtless to pose with food. Note to self, start requiring shirtless male models. His tattoos, roped and corded around his arms and his torso, were a beautiful thing to see. She wanted to run her fingertips over them.

“Hey, sweetheart, my eyes, they’re up here.”

She snapped her gaze to his and flushed, hoping her dark complexion would conceal her embarrassment. “Okay, fine. I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine. But a couple of things first.”

“Of course there’s a catch,” he whispered. His lips tipped into a lopsided smile, and she almost forgot what the hell she was saying. She should make a no-smiling rule.

Because that smile would get her in trouble. “First, turn your music down. We might be the only ones on this floor, but seriously, I need my beauty rest. Second, we need some rules of engagement. Finally, don’t call me sweetheart.”

He leaned forward, and she involuntarily swayed toward him, his scent intoxicating her. “Whatever you say, cookie.”


Chapter 5 (#ulink_6021a5a5-20fe-577d-a476-5618bacb052c)

Bennett studied Valentine as they sat in the café connected to their building. “You know, you can loosen up a little, right? I don’t bite or anything.” He smirked. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing. In which case I might reconsider.” He gave her what he hoped was a disarming smile. But nothing. All she gave him were dark eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Come on, Valentine. Give me something to work with here.”

When she wrinkled her nose, he had to smile. She probably didn’t realize the action made her look adorable. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell her, though.

“Sorry. This is somehow more awkward than every first date I’ve ever been on. And for me that’s saying something.”

“Look, I go on a lot of first dates.”

“Somehow that does not surprise me,” she muttered under her breath.

He opened his mouth in mock shock. “Oh, my God, was that an attempt at snark or humor? Be still my heart. I might be in love.”

That did it—a giggle escaped, transforming her normally stoic face into one that completely arrested him. Wow. Her full smile could easily be a weapon of mass destruction for men everywhere. He should call somebody about that or something. Report it. What was that campaign the MTA was putting out there? If you see something, say something? Valentine Anderson was lethal. Thing was, he was pretty sure she didn’t know it.

“Okay, well, you can call me Val. I hate the name Valentine. And these days it’s more of a curse thing anyway.”

“That’s too bad. I think it’s cute, but Val it is. So, Val, what do you say we actually go somewhere, do something? We can head uptown to the Met or to Central Park. Or we can stay down here and check out the Moore Gallery. It just opened and—”

She stammered as she interrupted him. “Y-you want to go to the Moore Gallery?”

He frowned at that. “Yeah. I love art. I am a photographer. I like to look at beautiful things.”

She put up a hand. “Sorry. I guess until yesterday, I wasn’t even really sure you were a photographer. I assumed artist, but even then, like a welding artist or glassblower or something. I kept trying to pair the loud music with you.”

“Glassblower, huh?” He laughed. “I kinda like that idea. I should totally photograph that. Sorry to disappoint, though.”

“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “At one point I also convinced myself that you were the leader of a motorcycle gang and you were running a black market operation or something out of your loft.”

“I like how you think.” He nodded toward her untouched coffee. “You want to get that in a to-go cup so we can leave and check out the gallery? Beats sitting here trying to get all our details written down. We can make it more organic.”

She raised a brow. “Like a real first date?”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up in warning. Was she indicating that she wanted this to be a real date? This was not part of the dozen or so scenarios he’d run. “Uh, not really.”

She barked out a laugh, and damn it, his brain did that misfire, unfocused thing again. “Oh, my goodness, you should see your face right now. Relax, slick. I don’t want to date you any more than you want to date me. You are not my type in any way, shape or comprehensible form.”

He frowned. Wait, why are you upset? You don’t want to be her type. Yeah, but still. He was every woman’s type. Evidence being how he ended up here in the first place. “Uh, that’s a first, but whatever.”

“We can leave the coffee. I can’t drink it anyway.” She stood.

“Why not? Something wrong with it?” He followed.

She shook her head. “I’ll have that bitter taste on my tongue all damn afternoon and I won’t be able to eat, because I can taste the burned citrus flavor of the beans. It’ll make me nuts.”

“Seriously? You don’t like coffee?”

“Oh, I love coffee, I just need it to be good coffee. Otherwise I can’t taste anything else. And for a food blogger, that’s disastrous.”

He frowned. “First of all, what do you mean, good coffee? Second of all, how is it that I didn’t know you’re a food blogger?”

She shrugged. “You pay much attention to lifestyle brands?”

“I’m a photographer, remember?”

“Yeah, good point.”

He opened the door for her and had to grit his teeth when she brushed by him lightly. Hell. This hormonal thing was going to be a problem. Relax, it’ll go away. Soon enough, he’d be on assignment...he hoped, anyway. On assignment he could sleep with a whole bunch of women to block out the taste of her. Right now, though, damn. “What’s your handle or whatever?”

“I’m Val’s Heart.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Seriously? You’ve been in a few national magazines. You had an article on ethnic food we’ve been missing or something like that.”

She grinned. “You saw that?”

“Well, I was helping out the art director for layout with some of the spare photos I’d done. I went to that Eritrean restaurant you recommended in Brooklyn.”

The wonder in her eyes and her smile were completely infectious. “Wow. Someone who knows me. That’s great.”

“Well, lots of people know you. You’re in magazines.”

“Yeah, I guess, logically I know that, but it’s not like I meet someone and I’m all, I’m Val’s Heart, you know.”

“I guess so. So tell me, where is this great coffee? And why won’t you be able to eat anything else?”

She grinned as she led the way down Prince Street. “I sort of have a combination of hyperosmia and synesthesia. The hyperosmia I was born with, though it intensified when the synesthesia started. It’s like I can taste and smell everything. Everything has a scent. Coffee, for example, is extremely strong. If it’s not the good stuff, I’ll be tasting the bitter aftertaste for the rest of the day. And I’ll be able to smell it nonstop. Not to mention I wouldn’t be able to do anything else with my taste buds.”

“That’s amazing. So everything has a specific odor?”

She nodded. “Sometimes it can be great. Like when you walk into one of those high-end chocolatiers where they do shavings for you? Man, that place is like pure nosegasm.”

A laugh burst forth. “Did you just say nosegasm?”

She nodded. “Sure did. It’s a thing. At least to me it’s a thing. It’s easy to get overwhelmed, too. If I’m not mentally prepared, or I don’t have my nose plugs, large crowds will give me a headache like no other. Also, a night out at a cramped club or something with my girlfriends can be hazardous. Bigger venues can be better as long as they’re nice and airy. But a lot of guys put on way too much cologne.”

He knew he shouldn’t ask the question, but his curiosity got the better of him. “What do I smell like?”

Her answer was immediate. “Sandalwood and musk, and there’s something like the hint of the ocean. It’s a fresher scent. I can’t really place it.”

“So is that good or bad?” Why did his voice sound so husky?

“It’s, uh—” A faint hint of pink tinged her cheeks, and he had to smile. So he smelled good to her, huh? Why the hell was that a good thing? “You know. For people who like sandalwood, it’s great. Come on, let me show you what real coffee tastes like.”

His next question died on his tongue. Do you like sandalwood?

* * *

So Bennett Cooper wasn’t all bad. And if Val was being honest with herself, she’d had fun. A really good time. The gallery was just the icebreaker she’d needed. It was easier to be free with him when they were walking and talking.

And while he might not be the best neighbor, he was smart. Quite brilliant. The man had been all over the world. He was talking about an expedition to the North Pole next. Once they’d started on travel and food, they pretty much hadn’t stopped talking.

So maybe trying something new hadn’t been the end of the world. Val still wasn’t convinced taking him home was the best idea she’d ever had. And he still was not her type, but he was almost cool. Almost. And it wouldn’t be awkward.

When the elevator let them out on their floor, he hesitated, then mumbled, “Oh, great. Our first test.”

“Isn’t that your lady friend from the other night?”

He gave her a pursed-lip smirk. “She’s not my lady friend. Try my boss’s wife.”

“She seriously putting the moves on you?”

“You could say that.”

“Who’s the guy with her?” The man casually leaning against Bennett’s door was more like the kind of guy Val should take home. Dark chocolate skin, pretty as hell, and dressed to kill in a blazer and dark jeans. She knew fashion well enough to recognize that the jacket was Marc Jacobs. The shoes were Louboutins for men. The dude practically screamed I’m a model.

“That is my best friend, Trevor. He’s back from a stint in Europe. Making New York his home base again.”

“Right. Okay.” She plastered a smile on her face. “So how do you want to do this?”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Follow my lead.”

“Wait, wha—”

But his fingers clasped around hers and he tugged her down the hall before she could argue.

“Trev, my man. Welcome home.” He released Val only long enough to wrap his arms around the other man and clap him hard on the back. “When did you get back?”

Trevor grinned at Bennett just before his gaze flickered over Val. “This morning. But I’m guessing I should have called first. Who’s your friend?”

She stiffened. And this was where she’d have to pull this off. With a deep breath, she slipped into character. “I’m Val, Bennett’s fiancée. You must be Trevor. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She turned her attention to Adriana. “And you’re Mrs. Voss, right? I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet properly the other night. You know Bennett—sometimes he gets carried away.”

Adriana’s face pinched, making her look like a duck who’d sucked on a lemon. Trevor, on the other hand, grinned even as he stared at Bennett. “Yo, man, we have a lot to catch up on. I move to Europe for six months and you go and fall in love?” He added, “And you, Val, we’re going to talk, because if you can rope my man Bennett here, you are formidable and I want to marry your sister.” His gaze slid over her. “Tell me you have a sister.”

Bennett just shook his head. “Dude, shut up. Adriana, did we have an appointment? I’d hate to think I missed something.”

The older woman looked none too pleased. “I’m actually just here to extent the invitation to dinner this weekend to Val myself. I figured you might forget or not tell her how genuinely we want to meet this fiancée of yours.”

Wow. She was a piece of work. Translation: she didn’t believe the ruse. Fair enough. If Val was going to be Bennett’s fiancée, she might as well go all in. “Oh, he told me, Mrs. Voss. And I’m delighted to say we’ll be able to make it. Unfortunately, though, I have a long day tomorrow, so I can’t stay and chat. Baby, I’ll see you tomorrow?” She slid her hand over Bennett’s abs to his pecs, and his eyes darkened.

“You guys avert your gaze. I’m going to kiss my fiancée good-night now.” He walked her to the door, and Val only had seconds to brace herself. She opened her door and tried to center her mind. This is not real. This is not real. This. Is. Not. Real.

But when Bennett dragged her to him and dipped his head, her lady parts forgot all about the mantra. Her libido screamed, Hell, yes, this feels real. His hand slid into her hair and he tugged gently as he anchored her head.

When his tongue delved in, the sweetness hit her first. And she wanted to indulge. Wanted to take her time and savor. He ratcheted up the heat by flexing the hand at her waist, and she gasped softly.

It was Trevor’s low whistle that broke the spell. When Bennett drew back, he looked like he was having a hard time keeping his eyes open. “I’ll see you later,” she croaked.

“Oh, you can count on that. Good night, Valentine. Sweet dreams.”

* * *

“Dude, you want to tell me what the hell that was all about?”

Bennett ran his hands through his hair as he tossed his bag on his living room couch. “Don’t even get me started.”

Trevor knew exactly where the imported beer was kept and helped himself. “No, no, I need to know. Inquiring minds and all that. Last I left you, two months ago, you were with that blonde in Sweden, but you were a confirmed bachelor. You were never, ever going for a girlfriend or wife. Now I come home and you not only have a fiancée—with no ring, might I add—but you also have some hot MILF looking like she wants to kill your fine-as-hell fiancée.”

Trevor shifted around Bennett, plopped himself onto his couch and kicked his feet up onto the low stainless steel coffee table. “Bennett, you have some ’splaining to do. And just FYI, not white ’splaining, either. You gotta get me to the nitty-gritty here.”

Bennett couldn’t help a chuckle. Shit, he’d missed Trevor. He sank down on the couch and grabbed the beer his friend held out. “The MILF, as you called her, that’s my new boss’s wife, Adriana Voss. She somehow has it in her head that this is the ride she wants to get on at the fair.” He gestured at his body.

Trevor nodded sagely. “That is a reputation well cultivated over the last decade or more. All women want to experience the Bennett Cooper ride.”

All except his neighbor. “Yeah, well, Voss Magazines is exactly where I want to be. So many options as a photographer. The magazine I want to do the most is obviously—”

“Earth,” his best friend finished for him. When Bennett cocked his head, Trevor merely shrugged. “We’ve been friends since you moved upstate with your aunt. You think I don’t know you want to be a wildlife photographer like your dad?”

That piece of knowledge both warmed Bennett and made him uncomfortable. He cultivated this facade—charming, funny, but not too deep or close—for years. It always unsettled him when people saw past that. Even if that person was Trevor.

“Yeah, I guess you would know that. Anyway. Adriana’s been getting a little too drunk at parties. Way too close. Things she says are starting to border on inappropriate. I’m no dummy, so I’ve been keeping a wide berth. I like my job. I’ve worked hard for my job. Anyway, Adriana crashes a meeting I had downstairs at True North and she wants to see the self nudes I did last year.”

Trevor hooted and cackled. “Bennett Cooper, you are a bad boy.”

“Dude.” Bennett shook his head. “There was no way around it. That woman is persistent as hell.”

Trevor leaned forward. “Yo.” He pinned him with a direct glare. “You tap that?”

Trevor and he had the same no-cheaters rule. Trevor had honed his after years of watching his poor mother get cheated on again and again by Trevor’s father, a former NFL player. “No, man, what do I look like to you? I’m a single man but I have standards.”

Trevor nodded. “How’d you escape with your virtue, then?”

Bennett took a long pull of his beer. “Uh, see, what had happened was...” He let his voice trail off as Trevor laughed. “Okay, so I had to think quick. She was coming up the elevator, wrapping herself around me boa constrictor–style, and Val was getting the brush-off from some dude, so I killed two birds with one stone. Walked right up to her and kissed her, pretending we were together.”

Trevor stared at him. Once again he was reminded of why his friend was so popular with photographers and designers. There was an intensity to him. But there was also a glimmer of mischief and humor just under the surface. Trevor fell back laughing so hard he clutched his sides.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. I need your advice, and you’re mocking me.”

“Nah, man. For real, though. Only you would get yourself into this mess. I have always told you the D would get you in a heap of trouble.”

“This from the guy who slept his way through half the models in Barcelona.”

Trevor grinned. “What can I say? I’m pretty.”

“Pretty bastard.” Bennett laughed. “So, what do I do?”

His friend shrugged. “You and neighbor lady seem on good terms, and she saved your ass with that dinner invite.”

“Well, up until that day, we’d barely spoken. Turns out she needs a date to some wedding or whatever in a few weeks.”

“So quid pro quo then.”

Bennett nodded. “Yep. And maybe I’ll be out of here on assignment after I complete my end of the bargain, so no chance of her getting too attached.”

Trevor slid him a glance. “So the sparks I saw out there, that was nothing?”

“What? No. I barely know the woman.”

“She is choice, though. Looks like petite brown Barbie. I mean, did you see the rack on her? She could...”

Bennett loved Trevor. He was the brother he had always wanted. But the surge of jealousy had his jaw clenching and him shaking his head. “Don’t, Trev.”

His best friend’s forehead wrinkled. “Well, well, maybe that thing with your neighbor isn’t just a mutual favor after all?”

Bennett scrubbed a hand down his face. What was wrong with him? “No. I mean, yes.” Hell. “Look, she’s not all that bad. But she’s a nice person, so let’s cool it on the ogling her assets.”

“Fair enough.” Trevor nodded. “Backing off, but can I ask you a question, man?”

“Shoot.”

“What if it wasn’t just a quid-pro-quo thing? With her? What if...it could be something real? You give that any thought?”

“Of course not. I’m not looking for anything. You know that. I’m a free agent. I can’t be tied down.” He’d had maybe one three-month relationship in college. And another six-month stint right out of school, but neither one had stuck. His travel made it impossible. And to be honest, they were barely relationships. More like sex on tap with the occasional dinner or drinks thrown in. He’d never introduced a woman to Trevor or his aunt. He’d always known they wouldn’t be staying.

Trevor nodded. “I hear you. But maybe you like this one. I’ve been present for you kissing a lot of girls. Remember Mindy Tabsy in the seventh grade? I’ve never seen you be even remotely possessive about anyone. I’ll let it go, but I’m just saying. You seem different.”

“I promise you, Trev, I’m exactly the same.” Bennett was not a permanent kind of guy. And certainly not with someone as uptight as Val. Even if today there’d been nothing uptight about her.


Chapter 6 (#ulink_5fc55082-7c4b-58d6-b110-2781f08d733f)

Focus was the name of the game. All Val had to do was concentrate, right? Except she could barely function. She’d slept like crap because she was thinking about Bennett. And his lips. And how insane he looked with his shirt off. Damn it. She dragged her attention back to her meeting with Mr. Rollins.

“Valentine, I’m sure you’ll see the contract with Emmerson Branding is a great deal. You’ll discuss their products, back them up. Your followers trust what you have to say,” said Mr. Rollins.

She looked over the contract again. It sure had a lot of zeros. But she wasn’t going into this blind. She knew how this worked. Emmerson Branding wanted a yes-person who was going to promote all of their products. She’d be nothing more than a spokesperson for every product they had. She’d built a reputation as a smart and savvy blogger with lots of followers. Every now and again companies wanted to pay her to promote their products. Lately she’d gotten more restrictive about what she would endorse.

While she primarily focused on food, she did still do lifestyle blogging.

“I’m sorry but these stipulations are too restrictive for me, and we’ve discussed this before. People appreciate that I’m telling them the truth. And with this deal, it requires I say nothing negative, so that’s just not going to work out. Because if the product tastes like an ammonia and vinegar cocktail, I’m going to say so. And they stipulate right here that I can’t say that. I can say nothing. But I can’t not speak the truth. Moreover, what’s really worrisome is that the wording is such that seems like they might compel me to say something. Something I don’t believe.”

When she’d started on Vid Tube in college, she’d mostly reviewed restaurants. Then hair products, makeup. All kinds of things that she used on a daily basis. Her passion, though, was food. She spent more time doing that than anything else. Before she knew it, her blog received so much traffic she was able to charge advertising fees.

Once out of school, she’d transitioned to lifestyle blogging, too. The women’s magazines came next and all she had to do was write about her experience. As gigs went, it was like a dream come true. Finally something she could use her uniqueness for, which didn’t include being locked in a lab all day. Most people like her, she heard about, worked in perfumeries.

“Mr. Rollins, unless you can remove these troublesome clauses, I don’t think we can work together. Which would be a shame, because I like a lot of what Emmerson is doing. But some products, on the other hand, simply don’t work, and I need the freedom to be able to say so.”

She gathered her purse, phone and tablet. He rose. “I appreciate you considering working with us. I’ll take it back to them.”

“Look, I’m not trying to be difficult. But it’s about my brand. If I’m pairing myself with a company, it has to be the right deal. Like a marriage.”

No. The last thing she needed to think about was weddings or wedding dates. Because that brought her right back to Bennett. Her body flushed and she forced a smile. “Give me a call when they’re ready.”

As she walked out of the office, the massive wall photo in the lobby caught her attention. There was something so familiar about what appeared to be a woman dancing in the center of the sun. Before she left she asked the receptionist, “Excuse me, do you know who took that photo?”

The receptionist smiled. “Oh, yeah, that’s from that hot photographer. He was in People’s sexiest issue. Not the cover or anything, but he got a mention. He took it. What was his name? Benji. Benny... Oh, yeah. Bennett Cooper.”

“Bennett Cooper?” Val’s eyes went wide.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Mr. Emmerson got it at auction. He was so excited. It went for nearly half a million or something.”

Val stared at the image. The guy she’d thought ran a motorcycle club was world-class. Just who was she pretending to date, anyway?

* * *

Val found her mother waiting at their usual table at Akasha. Her mother was nothing if not a creature of habit. They’d been having lunch at Akasha once a month since Val left for NYU. They’d always sat at the same table, and for the most part ordered the same things. Her mother would go on about how great her sister was, all the while telling Val how she’d just missed out on being great. Ah, the joys of routine.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her mother’s smile was brief. “Honey, are you still parting your hair to the side like that? I told you you have to vary your parts or it causes stress on the hairline.” She sighed. “Not that you’ll ever listen. Anyway. You’re late.”

“Actually, I’m five minutes early.” Val didn’t even glance at her watch, but she was never late for a lunch with her mother. She’d never hear the end of it. These lunches had become such a routine that Val knew exactly how to start the conversation to get her mother talking so she could mentally plan the rest of her day. “How are the wedding plans?”

And they were off. With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, her mother started in on the caterers and the alcohol and how it really was tacky to do a cash bar, but it was also alarming to have people sloshing around drunk at their perfect baby’s wedding. And then it went to the dress and the fittings and why Val had been MIA during the fitting.

Val didn’t bother to remind her mother that she wasn’t the maid of honor or even a bridesmaid. Not that she and her sister were feuding.

They just weren’t close, and had a distant relationship. Sol was seven years younger, so Val had been more mother figure than sister. And her sister had her friends and her own instincts. Besides, they were different. Where Val toed the line, followed the rules, Sol did not. She sneaked out, made out with boys, took their father’s car on a joyride. Went to concerts. And did the things that said, Hey, I’ve lived life. Val hadn’t really done any of that. She hadn’t spread her wings at all until she was in college and on her own. And even then she was restrained. She really did need to get a life.

When her mother veered to the topic of her date, Val desperately tried to recover the threads of the conversation so she could piece together what she’d missed. “Actually, Mom, I’ve been meaning to tell you, James and I broke up.”

Dear old Mom didn’t miss a beat, sighing and throwing her napkin down. “Honestly, Val, it’s like you’re trying to drive these men away from you with a flamethrower. Why did this one break up with you? It’s like we can’t get you a foothold with the man thing. It’s probably because you’re too aloof. Men like warmth in a woman. It’s not your nose thing, is it? I thought it was mostly under control.”

Val ground her teeth. “No. It wasn’t my nose thing.” From the moment she’d been hit, things had gotten increasingly difficult with her parents. So many places she couldn’t go. All the weird things she said about how food tasted funny. She really hadn’t helped her parents make any new friends. “And I broke up with him.” There. That was sort of the truth.

The look on her mother’s face was priceless. “But why in heavens would you do that? He is the James Adamson. He is old New Orleans—his great-great-grandfather was a freedman who became a doctor. In those times. Can you imagine his pedigree? He’s an Adamson. A young black man who’s carrying on the family tradition. He’s a dermatologist. Renowned. His earning potential is huge. Honestly, I don’t understand you sometimes.”

As her mother spoke, all the reasons why Val wanted a change in the first place bubbled to the surface. She wanted freedom of choice. She wanted to do something because she craved it and not because it was expected. She wanted to want someone because it lit her on fire.

Like Bennett. No. Not like Bennett. But whatever. She just didn’t want bland. Not anymore. She was in charge of her life and she could do what she liked. “Actually, Mom, I do have somebody. It’s new, but it’s serious.”

Her mother arched delicate brows. “Oh? Do tell. Who is his family? Where did they go to university? Do I know them? Did he do Jack and Jill?”

Shoot, that was information she didn’t have. Why hadn’t she prepped better? Because you were too busy reveling in the way Bennett tastes and not paying attention to the information you need to deliver. “Mom, you don’t know him. You might know his work, though. He’s a photographer.” Cue the nose wrinkle. Ooh, was that just her, or was there a snort, too? Awesome.

“A photographer? Sweetheart. You don’t seem to understand. Who you date, and eventually who you marry, matters. You’re a descendant of Garrett Morgan, an inventor and successful businessman. Think about that. You want to be with someone who is just a photographer?”





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