Sadece Litres-də oxuyun

Kitab fayl olaraq yüklənə bilməz, yalnız mobil tətbiq və ya onlayn olaraq veb saytımızda oxuna bilər.

Kitabı oxu: «A New York Kind Of Love»

Şrift:

Bright lights, big passion...

Winning an all-expenses-paid weekend in New York with Hollywood’s sexiest heartthrob makes Faith Logan the envy of women everywhere. This small-town nurse has too many responsibilities, including caring for her aging parents, to be interested in fame or status. But as the sensual celebrity escorts her to exclusive Manhattan nightclubs and glitzy movie premieres, Faith is falling fast for the genuine, charismatic man behind the slick media image.

More used to fanatics and groupies, Irvin Freeman is surprised and intrigued by Faith’s down-to-earth personality. One impulsive kiss turns their private flirtation into public news. But paparazzi and crazed admirers are making her doubt their potential as a couple. Will the pressures of fame cause their love to fade before he can convince her they’ve found their own real-life happy ending?

“What I do with my leading ladies is acting. I’m not acting right now. What I’m thinking and feeling is all real.”

She shifted in her seat. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then believe this.”

He lowered his head and pressed his lips against hers with enough firmness to let her know he was serious but light enough for her to pull away if she didn’t want the kiss. Her body shook, and her lips parted with a gasp. He wasn’t a man to pass up an opportunity, and took the chance to deepen the kiss.

He never believed in electricity or sparks igniting when a man kissed a woman, but something he’d never felt before happened as he kissed her. His skin tingled, the blood rushed through his veins, his senses heightened to everything around them. The sweet scent of her perfume, the softness of her lips, the way she tasted of champagne, all seemed amplified. And like a man who’d gotten a taste of something he really liked, he dove in for more.

He put his own glass down on the tray and brought his hand up to feel the softness of her hair. She made a sexy whimpering noise before her own hands came up to clutch his arms.

Dear Reader,

Ever watch your favorite celebrity in a movie or television show and wonder how it would be to hang out with them? Well, that was the what-if question that sparked my idea for A New York Kind of Love. And since I write romance, I used my favorite British actor as the inspiration for the romantic hero in the story.

My heroine, Faith Logan, has spent so much time taking care of others that she deserves a romantic Hollywood ending. Once Irvin Freeman felt the sparks between himself and Faith, he had to be the man who gave her the world.

I had so much fun writing Faith and Irvin’s happily-ever-after. I hope you enjoy reading their story. I’d love to hear your thoughts via Facebook (facebook.com/synithiarwilliams), Twitter (@SynithiaW) or shoot me an email at synithiaw@gmail.com.

Sincerely,

Synithia W.

A New York Kind of Love

Synithia Williams


www.millsandboon.co.uk

SYNITHIA WILLIAMS has been an avid romance novel lover since picking up her first at the age of thirteen. It was only natural that she would begin penning her own romances soon after—much to the chagrin of her high school math teachers. She’s a native of South Carolina and now writes romances as hot as their southern settings. Outside of writing she works on water quality and sustainability issues for local government. She’s married to her own personal hero and they have two sons who’ve convinced her that professional wrestling and superheroes are supreme entertainment. When she isn’t working, writing or being a wife and mother, she’s usually bingeing on TV series, playing around on social media or planning her next girls’ night out with friends. You can learn more about Synithia by visiting her website, synithiawilliams.com, where she blogs about writing, life and relationships.

MILLS & BOON

Before you start reading, why not sign up?

Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

SIGN ME UP!

Or simply visit

signup.millsandboon.co.uk

Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

For my aunt, Annie Mae “Duke.”

I miss you.

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to Sharon Cooper for pointing out a certain pitch contest that resulted in the publishing of this book. Thank you to Danita, my blurb whisperer, for always answering my frantic emails when I need quick feedback. Also, thanks to Tia Kelly for the virtual support as I wondered if this story would see the light of day. And, as always, many thanks to my fantastic husband, Eric. Your support of my writing career makes every book possible.

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Acknowledgments

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Copyright

Chapter 1

“Congratulations, Faith Logan. You’re the lucky winner of a weekend in New York with Irvin Freeman!”

Faith jerked her cell phone away from her face, frowning at the unfamiliar number on the screen. This had to be a joke. Her eyes darted to the two other nurses sitting around the nurses’ station. Neither appeared to be concealing a smile. There were no covert glances her way to see if they’d duped her with some elaborate prank. She looked up and down the hall, but as usual for a Wednesday in Laurel County, South Carolina, the labor-and-delivery ward of the hospital wasn’t very busy. Only one mother who’d had a baby earlier that day was walking down the hall. Dorothy, the older nurse, even stood and left the station to check on the mother, instead of sticking around to hear if Faith fell for the joke.

She put the phone back to her ear. “Excuse me?”

“You heard correctly,” said the overly bright voice on the other end. “You won the grand prize in the contest held by Starting Over, Irvin Freeman’s foundation to raise alcohol awareness. Out of the thousands of entries accompanying donations to the foundation, your name was drawn. You are the lucky woman chosen to spend a fabulous, all-expenses-paid weekend in New York City with Irvin Freeman. Your prize includes a makeover, and you will be Irvin’s date for the premiere of his new movie, Running from Murder!”

The woman’s voice rose with each word until she sounded like a speaker on the stage at a “gee, life is great” high school prom.

“Is this a joke? I’m at work, and I really don’t have time for jokes.”

There was a pause before the voice continued in its prom-queen tone. “This is no joke, Ms. Logan. Don’t you remember entering online?”

Faith frowned and tried to remember entering a contest. All her money went to her parents’ medical bills and household expenses. She didn’t have extra money to donate to the foundation or extra time to enter a contest.

Except for that one time...

She spun around to glare at the nurse closest to her. Marie, her best friend since she’d moved home two years ago and the person who’d helped her land the job at Laurel County Hospital, flipped through a magazine. Faith nudged Marie with her foot. When Marie looked up, she nailed her with a “this is your fault” look. She’d known it was a bad idea when Marie urged her to enter. At the time it had seemed like a good idea to contribute a few dollars to a worthy cause. Never in a gazillion years had she expected her name to be chosen.

Marie held out her hands. “What’s wrong?”

Instead of answering Marie, Faith responded to the woman on the phone. “Yeah, I remember entering that contest. I just didn’t expect to win. What weekend is that? I don’t even know if I can go to New York.”

Marie’s dark eyes widened, and she jumped from the chair to bounce on the balls of her feet next to Faith. Even without her Tweety Bird scrubs, Marie would look like a woman far younger than her thirty-three years. Her pixie cut and always-smiling features in a dark brown heart-shaped face made her instantly likable.

“Can’t go?” The voice lost some of its peppiness. “Ms. Logan, this is the opportunity of a lifetime. You will be the envy of all women. A five-star hotel near Times Square...”

Faith tuned out as the caller went through all of the reasons—some of them valid—why she should go. Excitement tickled her insides, and she felt the urge to bounce around like Marie. But the cold, hard reality of her life tamped it down. Reality had smacked her in the face when she’d given up her fantastic job, lost what she’d thought was the guy she’d one day marry and moved from Houston back home to take care of her parents.

She wasn’t bitter—that particular emotion was a drain on energy she couldn’t afford to waste. She’d give it all up again if she had to. But going out of town right now was out of the question. Her mind raced with all the reasons this wouldn’t work: Who would watch her parents while she was gone? What if it was a weekend she was scheduled to work? All of her leave was used up from taking her mama to doctors’ appointments. What would she wear? Her “new” clothes were two years old and were the complete opposite of stylish or trendy. Unless scrub chic suddenly became the fashion rage.

Then there was the biggest reason not to go. Irvin Freeman: dark eyes, mahogany skin and a swagger that would put Shaft to shame, topped off with a British accent. The man oozed sex with every breath he took, and he probably expected the winner of this thing to fall into a gooey puddle of estrogen at his feet.

“I appreciate the offer.” Faith cut in on the prom queen’s stream of reasons why she should be falling over herself to get to New York. “But I’m not sure—”

Marie snatched the phone out of Faith’s hand. “Hello, this is Marie, Faith’s, um, personal assistant. We’ll do some maneuvering with her schedule and make sure she’s there.”

Faith tried to grab the phone back, but Marie skipped away to the other side of the nurses’ station. “What weekend is it, again?” Marie nodded at whatever the caller said and flipped to the calendar with the work schedule. “Perfect! She’s available for that weekend. You have her email address from the entry form, correct? Just send the details and copy me, and I’ll get her to the airport on time.”

Marie rattled off her email address and said a few more words. When she hung up the phone, she squealed as if she’d won the prize herself. The screech got the attention of the other nurse and the mother walking down the hall.

“You are the luckiest woman alive!” Marie rushed over and gave Faith a hug, surrounding her with exuberance and the smell of her strawberry body spray.

“That depends on your definition of lucky. Marie, I can’t go.”

Marie leaned back and gave her a hand wave that said “Whatever.” “Oh, yes, you can. And you will. Even if I have to knock you out and drive you to New York myself. Girl, you just won a date with Irvin Freeman. How are you not excited about this?”

Dorothy and the mother walking in the hall quickly caught on and chanted their agreement. Faith visualized a weekend listening to Irvin brag about how great it was to be him. Sure, he always appeared down-to-earth and approachable in television interviews, but a man who had half the women in the world drooling over him couldn’t be that centered. All his apparent humbleness probably hid a mountain of arrogance.

“My parents,” Faith said, not wanting to get into what would surely be a debate with Marie if she dissed her friend’s favorite actor. “Who’s going to help them?”

“They’ll be okay for one weekend. I’ll look in on them personally every day you’re gone.”

“Do I work that weekend?” Faith crossed the station and picked up the schedule book.

“No, you’re off.”

Faith dropped the book and crossed her arms. “If I’m off, you’re working. You won’t be able to check on them.”

Dorothy came over to stand before Faith, looking just like the surrogate grandmother she was to every baby born on the floor. “Your mom is doing so much better than she was when you first came home. If you prepare meals before you leave, she can heat them up for herself and your dad. Don’t forget, you’re not in a large city anymore. Your friends and neighbors are happy to help out.”

Dorothy was right, but Faith had done everything for her parents on her own. It was her way of making up for not being there when the bottom fell out of their lives. She wasn’t used to accepting help from neighbors. Besides, doing so would only increase her regret. The thought tightened the knot of guilt that had made its home in her gut since she got the call that her mama was unconscious in the hospital after suffering a stroke.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” she said.

“Burden, shmurden,” Marie said. “You won’t be. You going on this trip will be the highlight of the year for half of Laurel County. The newspaper will probably do a write-up about you before and after. Do you know how many people will be happy to say they helped out while you went away for an all-expenses-paid weekend with a Hollywood movie star?”

Faith did chuckle at that, because it was true. Nothing this exciting had happened since Tamara Blake from Laurel High School won Ms. Laurel County and was first runner-up in the Ms. Patriot pageant back in 2001. People still bragged about their part in her win, from selling her a pair of earrings to bringing over fried chicken the night the family had a watch party.

“I get that,” Faith said, “but I just don’t feel right asking other people to look after my parents. And this thing is just a few weekends away. I don’t have anything to wear to something like that.”

“You get a thousand dollars of spending money. Buy what you need while you’re there.”

“A thousand dollars in New York is probably like five dollars here. It won’t go far,” Faith said.

“If it’ll buy you a sexy dress that’ll make it impossible for Irvin Freeman to keep his eyes off you, that’s far enough.”

Faith couldn’t help but visualize the eyes referred to on a recent list as “most likely to send a woman into cardiac arrest.” The guy did have a way of looking at his leading ladies with such heat you could practically hear the sizzle on-screen. To think he would turn them on her was laughable. Yet her heart did do a disloyal skip against her ribs.

“The man dates models and Oscar winners,” Faith said. “Even if I were naked, he wouldn’t be interested.”

“Every man is interested in a naked woman,” Dorothy said, laughing. Marie nodded. The idea of being naked in front of Irvin only increased Faith’s body heat.

Nope. Stop. Don’t go there.

Even if she were to travel to New York—which she really doubted she could—she wouldn’t be sleeping with Irvin Freeman. She loved the guy’s movies and thought he was a great actor, but in his charming TV interviews, there were always questions about his love life. He was constantly linked with his frequent costar Selena Jones and photographed with a string of other actresses and models between his on-screen hookups with Selena. Faith would be setting herself up to look like America’s biggest fool if she went to the city with even the slightest intention of landing in bed with him. He’d laugh at her attempts, or worse, take her up on it, and she’d be the latest groupie with her name attached to his. Something she’d never live down here in Laurel County. She couldn’t afford that, not with all the work she’d done to keep the Logan name free of scandal over the past two years.

A more chilling thought crept across her mind. Going on this weekend trip would put her in the spotlight even if she wasn’t attached to Irvin for more than a few days. People might want to know more about her. Which could lead to questions about her family—and her twin. She wanted to go on pretending her twin had magically disappeared into thin air.

“I won’t be naked with Irvin Freeman. I won’t be anything, because I’m not going. They can pick another name. I have too much to do here.”

“Stop it,” Marie said. “You don’t have too much to do, and you aren’t a horrible daughter if you take one weekend to enjoy yourself. It’s been two years. Go and have a great time. Your parents would agree with me.”

“I know they will, because I’m going to call them now and tell them the good news,” Dorothy said, picking up the phone.

“Dorothy, no. Don’t bother them,” Faith said. Her mama had been urging her to do something fun for the past month. If she got wind of this, she’d knock Faith out and lend Marie her wheelchair to roll Faith to the airport.

“Too late. It’s ringing. Get ready to pack your bags, girlie, because you’re going,” Dorothy said. “Hey, Virginia, guess what? Your daughter just won the trip of a lifetime.”

Marie did a little dance. Dorothy grinned and gave her a thumbs-up. Faith’s palms sweated. This was not a good thing. Fate had a way of hitting her in the gut when she least expected it. And once again, it was ready to give her a sucker punch.

Chapter 2

“Well, she could have sounded a bit more enthusiastic.”

Irvin looked up from the script he was reading. Kitty Brown, the head of his publicity team, stood staring at her cell phone. He’d barely heard her over the various conversations of the members of his entourage. A word that made him cringe inwardly—and at times outwardly—whenever he said it. The entourage was Kitty’s idea; he would be perfectly fine without the lot of them. It was days like this he missed the anonymity that came with being a poor kid from the dodgy end of London. Now, thanks to Kitty, all his appearances were preplanned and scheduled for potential photo ops.

“What’s wrong, Kitty? She didn’t scream until her voice gave out before breaking down in tears?” He was only partly teasing. He still couldn’t get over the dramatics some women went through when they met him.

“What screaming? The woman didn’t scream, sigh, cry or show the least bit of gratitude that her name was selected.”

Kitty crossed his crowded living room, the night sky and twinkling lights of the New York skyline visible behind her through the wall of windows in his flat. Her jet-black hair had one bright red streak in the front, which stood out against her sienna skin and the all-black suit she wore.

“Hopefully, she’ll be more excited once it sinks in what she’s won. I can’t have the winner of your first charity contest frowning in every picture.”

“How do you know she’ll be frowning?” Irvin asked, glancing at his watch. It had been ten hours since the entourage had arrived to prepare for his appearance on The Tonight Show that afternoon and decided to stick around afterward. He was ready for all of them to leave and give him a moment of peace.

“I can hear frowns,” Kitty said, waving her hand. “This woman was frowning.”

“I don’t care if she smiles or not,” Irvin said. “I did this to raise money for the foundation. The money we raised will do a hell of a lot more than having the winner smile in your photographs.”

“True, but I expected more. I didn’t make you the country’s most desired man only to get some lackluster response.”

“I’d prefer a lackluster response every now and then.”

“Don’t tease,” Kitty said. “You’d be bored without all this.” She held out her arms to encompass the ten other people milling around the flat, each one either talking on the phone or making connections via social media. All in an effort to keep his name in front of people and build his image.

Some days—days like today, actually—he wanted to tell the lot of them to sod off. But he couldn’t deny that being Hollywood’s biggest celebrity had its perks, the best one being the money. Money brought safety and security. Two things he’d gone without for most of his childhood. And the money kept rolling in with every action film or dramatic role he churned out. Telling Kitty to bugger off wasn’t worth losing the security blanket his celebrity afforded.

He must be tired, or he wouldn’t be so annoyed with his normal routine. The New York premiere and contest weekend would be the end of a whirlwind of promotions and premieres for the film.

“Bored, maybe,” he said, “but I wouldn’t regret a slight decrease in all of the attention that comes with being a celebrity.”

“No one likes a hermit, Irvin. You’re approachable, which makes America love you all the more. Stuck-up celebrities aren’t bankable.”

He’d argue that some celebrities who shied away from the limelight were, but his mobile phone chimed. His heart rate revved up like the sports car he’d driven in his last film, as it had done every time the phone rang since the day he’d sent his screenplay to Kevin Lipinski a week ago. Kevin was one of the most sought-after and successful producers out there. Every film he touched turned to box-office gold, and if he liked Irvin’s screenplay and agreed to produce the film, he might be Irvin’s ticket out of the camera’s glare and right behind it. Irvin wanted to direct.

The mobile’s chime indicated a new email, which sent anticipation and dread flowing through his bloodstream. There were only two answers he could get. Kevin would either love it or hate it. Both answers scared him.

He pressed the email icon on the phone and held his breath. Then released it in a sigh of disappointment. The new message was a party invitation. He unsuccessfully tried to tamp down his frustration. How long did it take to look at a script?

Kitty rambled on in the background about plans for the premiere. A member of the entourage let out a loud laugh at whatever the person on the phone with him had said. And another flipped the channels on his sixty-inch television with the volume turned up to high. It was information and annoyance overload. Irvin was done.

“Now that you’ve informed the lucky winner, we can call it a day,” he said, cutting off Kitty’s speech. He held up the script he’d been trying to read ever since they got back. “I’ve got to get through this.” Another action movie. Not bad, really, but he knew the drill. The formula for his success didn’t change much: he’d save a beautiful young woman, run through traffic in a big city with no shirt and haul around a big gun.

“No, we can’t call it a day,” Kitty said in a rush. “We need to go over the itinerary. Every moment of the premiere weekend has to be planned perfectly.”

“Something that you can do without my direct input. Just tell me where to go and when to be there. The only thing I care about is when we present the check to the head of the foundation. Make sure there is plenty of time before and afterward for me to talk with him and the staff. I want to know if there is anything they need me to do to help the cause.”

Alcohol awareness wasn’t the sexiest issue for a celebrity to pick up. Kitty thought he should be kissing kids in third-world countries or building playgrounds for at-risk youth, where the photo ops were. He did contribute some to those causes, but preventing and stopping alcohol abuse were his passions. He’d witnessed the damages of alcohol abuse firsthand.

“Now I’d like my flat back,” he said, looking at the people buzzing around. He used his normal charming tone of voice, but there was no mistaking the underlying steel beneath.

Kitty huffed but didn’t argue. She was good at reading when he was tired of the show.

“Fine, but at least go over the itinerary before the end of the week.” She grabbed her bag and pulled out a thick folder, which she handed over to him. “It took a while, but I managed to dig up a picture of the winner.”

He flipped open the folder to find the photo. A woman with thick, dark hair and clear reddish-brown skin, wearing a conservative navy suit, stared back. Her lips were curved in a cool smile that didn’t reach her eyes. Kitty should have known better than to expect this woman to scream. She didn’t look the type. He frowned and studied her professional demeanor; he wouldn’t have expected her even to enter the contest.

“Where did you get this picture?”

“She used to be the chief nursing officer at East Houston Regional Medical Center. It was her employee ID photo.”

“She’s no longer there?”

“No, left two years ago. Something about an illness in the family. I couldn’t dig up a more current picture. Can you believe she doesn’t have a profile anywhere?” Kitty said it as if the idea of going without an online presence was akin to going without electricity.

“Some people prefer their privacy.” He looked away from the picture to eye Kitty. “If she’s not online, how did you dig this up?”

“I can’t have you going out with a person with a rap sheet, Irvin, really. Before we called and confirmed her as the winner, I did some digging.”

He glanced at the pinned-together woman in the picture. He doubted she would appreciate the probe into her life before being confirmed as the winner. He smirked. Well, she’d better get used to it. She’d be a pseudo celebrity while spending the weekend with him. Still, he felt a pang of regret for the digging, no matter how necessary it might have been.

“If you’ve got enough information to know she’s not a criminal, no more researching into her past.”

“For now,” she said. She turned to the group. “Okay, people, let’s get out of Irvin’s way.”

The lot of them packed up their phones, tablets and other gadgets. With waves, well wishes and another reminder from Kitty to review the itinerary, they were gone. He relished the silence for a few minutes. It seemed like a hundred years since he’d had an entire day of silence. He couldn’t imagine a day in the future when he would.

“Full mouths shouldn’t complain,” he could hear his mother saying. It had been her way of telling him to shut up whenever he tried to say something about the beating she would take for stealing money from his dad just to put food on the table.

He pushed the uncomfortable memories aside. His mouth was full. If the lack of quiet or personal time was a side effect, then he wouldn’t complain. His mother had endured far worse. She might not be around to enjoy the perks of his celebrity anymore, but childhood lessons died hard.

He flipped through the script and found the standard love scene. It had a full back shot. Kitty would love that. If she had her way, her number one client would go shirtless in every scene and have at least one back shot in every movie. It made her job of promoting him so much easier.

He tossed down the script in disgust. Full mouth. Full mouth. Don’t complain.

Still, he checked his phone and silently hoped for a call from Kevin about his script.

There was a knock on the door. If it was Kitty returning to tell him another thing for the premiere weekend, he would lose his mind.

He checked the peephole, relaxed and opened the door with a smile. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Dante Wilson, the R & B star with a fan base as big as Irvin’s, grinned from the other side. “I’ve got time before my concert tour and decided to come early for your promotional weekend.”

Irvin shook his head and stepped back so his friend could walk in. “Why do you need to be here for my weekend?”

“Kitty thought it would be good to show off your high-profile connections as you become the highlight of this woman’s life,” Dante said. “Her words, not mine. Jacobe is coming up from Florida.”

“Brilliant. I haven’t seen Jacobe in weeks,” Irvin said.

Jacobe Jenkins was the starting center for the Jacksonville Gators. The twenty-eight-year-old had been drafted at the end of his freshman year of college, let the easy money and women go to his head and started his professional basketball career as a wild party boy. Irvin and Dante had met him about a year ago at a party and become mentors for the young man. He still partied, but he wasn’t getting into any foolish trouble anymore.

“But you didn’t have to come early.”

“It wasn’t just for you. I met this model who’s doing a show here this week.”

That made more sense to Irvin. “Can I get you a drink?”

“You know you can.” Dante shut the door behind him. “You drinking?”

Irvin shook his head. “I’ve had my one for the day.”

“Kitty didn’t push you to have two?”

Irvin laughed. “Kitty always tempts me to have two. But two leads to three and...”

He went to the bar to fix a whiskey for Dante and a cola for himself.

Dante crossed the living area to stare out over the skyline. The living definition of a pretty boy, he looked younger than his thirty-two years in designer jeans, white shirt and tie with a gray vest. Whereas Irvin was growing weary with the celebrity life, it was all Dante knew. He was the son of music legends, had grown up in front of the camera and enjoyed the fame that came with being a star.

“You should sell me this apartment,” Dante said when Irvin came over and handed him his drink.

“You shouldn’t get your hopes up,” Irvin said and took a sip of the cola.

“One day I’ll convince you.”

“I doubt it.”

Dante chuckled and lifted the glass. “Are you going to bring her here?”

Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.

7,63 ₼