Molly scribbled her choice on the notepad beside the phone and was about to pick up the handset to place the order when the elevator dinged again. Kathleen walked across to answer it, letting up Abe. Who wanted a steak, a big one. Grabbing Kathleen as he said that, he bent her over his arm and kissed her full on the mouth. “You realize your very nice tits are about to fall out of that dress.”

“Please.” Kathleen patted his ripped chest. “I’m sewn into this thing. Just like you are into your T-shirt.” She tried to pinch the black fabric between her fingertips. “Could it be any tighter?”

It was interesting, Molly thought, how Noah’s eyes had locked on that byplay, which, despite the subject matter, had held no sexual innuendo whatsoever. Abe might as well have been talking to a sister. “Did you all abandon David?” she asked when Abe dragged a chair from the bedroom and flipped it to sit with his arms on the back.

“He took off an hour ago.” A shrug of Abe’s heavily muscled shoulders. “Said he had to pick someone up at the airport.”

Hmm... After placing the room service order, adding in a few extras because she knew how much the men could pack away, she ducked into the bedroom and sent a quick message to Thea. Are you in the country? Did you get a flight? Her sister had flown to London to handle a situation for a client there, become stuck in England when flights were grounded because of a storm.

Finally. Spending a couple of days in New York, was the return message. Just waiting for my luggage now. Damn memos.

Molly stifled her laugh. Have fun. xoxo

When she walked back out into the living area, it was to see Kathleen perched on the arm of Fox’s chair, all toned legs and tumbling hair. The child of a pillow-lipped Venezuelan supermodel and an American tennis ace now considered a “silver fox,” there was no doubt Kathleen had hit the genetic lottery, her parents’ genes combining to give her a breathtaking and exotic beauty.

She was laughing at something Fox had said, and at that instant, they were the embodiment of the perfect celebrity couple.

Then Fox glanced Molly’s way, held out a hand… and the look in his eyes, it was for her, no one else.

“Oops.” Kathleen rose with a good-natured smile. “I’m in your spot.”

“Here.” Noah patted the side of his armchair, distinct challenge in his expression.

Kathleen smiled sweetly. “Thank you, but I’d rather cuddle a rabid dog.” Pointedly skirting his seated form, she pulled out the executive chair from the desk in the opposite corner and rolled it next to Abe.

“What’s going on with those two?” Molly whispered in Fox’s ear, having noticed the slight edge in their interactions soon after she’d first met Kathleen.

“Later.”

As it was, by the time they got to bed, she’d forgotten the question and Fox had other things on his mind.


Molly woke to an empty bed, but she could hear Fox out on the small private balcony off the bedroom, strumming his guitar. Smiling, she simply lay there for a while, listening to her man. His talent was apparent even in what appeared to be a meandering dance through the chords, as if he were exercising his fingers. The breeze was soft, the sunlight coming through the open balcony doors languid and golden, its rays just kissing the bed.

Every so often, when the wind lifted the gauzy curtains a fraction, she caught sight of Fox seated in one of the outdoor chairs. He was shirtless, his feet up on the railing and his guitar held like a lover. Stretching luxuriantly, she decided to get up, make them both some coffee using the espresso machine that came with the suite. She liked doing these things for him, looking after him as he did her. Showing Fox just what he meant to her until he believed it deep within, that was her number-one priority.

It was as she was tying the belt on the hotel robe that she remembered her phone. As was her habit, she’d turned it to silent during the night.

Picking it up to check if Charlotte had messaged, she was surprised to see notifications for six voice mails and double that number of texts. Curious, she opened a text message at random—from a library colleague—and felt her eyes widen.

Molly! You’re on the front page of G&V! And looking hot!

Mouth dry, heartbeat a drum against her ribs, she scanned through the other texts; they all said pretty much the same thing. She had somehow ended up front and center on one of the major gossip blogs in the world.

Not bothering with the voice messages and her fingers too shaky to work the small phone screen, she grabbed the sleek touchscreen tablet Fox had given her with a card that said “Spoiling has begun.” She was ridiculously attached to the thing already, which pleased him to an adorable smugness that always made her want to kiss him silly.

Today however, she was too stressed to think about how very cherished he made her feel. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she did a search for the exact site address—while she had a secret weakness for celebrity gossip, it was strictly in magazine format. She’d curl up in an armchair on a Sunday morning, tea in hand, and spend a couple of hours reading through the articles.

Now, fingers trembling, she clicked through… to see a full-color image of her and Fox in the elevator. His mouth was locked on hers, his hand pulling up her skirt, the tattoos on his arm taut over muscle, while one of her own hands was clenched in his hair. Her other hand was lost to sight, but the angle of the shot made it appear she was stroking him through his jeans.

Her heart roared in her ears, the brutal memories of her father’s scandal smashing to the surface to tear shreds off her. Gripping the sheet in one bloodless fist, she took a deep breath, exhaled. She did the same again and again, calming herself before she could spiral any further into the nightmare. “It could’ve been much worse,” she murmured and looked back down.

The photo was tame by most standards—two lovers who’d gotten a bit carried away with a kiss. Embarrassing, but of a nudge-nudge, wink-wink kind rather than anything that would lead to malicious attacks. Fox, after all, wasn’t a married politician who’d run a campaign based on family values, and she wasn’t an underage girl.

No, this was a shot of two adults enjoying one another. Yes, it made her blush, would do so for a while yet, but she’d live it down. Her thundering heart settling into a more controlled rhythm, she blew out another breath and looked at the photo again. Her lips curved slowly. Maybe the embarrassment was worth it to see the way Fox was so totally focused on her, his entire being concentrated on the kiss.

She should’ve left it at that, but she’d already scrolled past the photo to read the article—which wasn’t much, just a couple of lines about Fox’s “mystery date”—and caught the start of the comment thread. It was already over two thousand, though according to the blog’s timestamp, the image had only been up for an hour.

At first she didn’t understand what it was she was reading, then it hit her with the force of a body blow.

“I’d do her. I’d even bring the paper bag to put over her face.”

“Ugh.”

“I never knew Fox liked pork chops. Oink, oink.”

“What a hot slut. Lol.”

“Maybe he was drunk? :-(”

“Or maybe she has a vacuum for a mouth?”

“Total thunder thighs. Gross. Fox, u can do better hunney!”

“Molly? Baby, you’re shaking. What’s the—” Fox bit off a vicious word and grabbed the tablet out of her stiff hands to put it on the bedside table. “Come here.” Tugging her trembling body up into his arms, he crushed her to the heat and strength of him. “Forget those fuckers. They’re nothing but two-bit losers who live to pull others down.” Rage had turned his body rigid, his voice hard. “They’re no one to us.”

She stroked her hand over his back. “It’s okay,” she said, finding her feet in the fierceness of his hold. “I just… it reminded me of the hate page from when I was at school.” Except back then, the mean and nasty comments had come from other teenagers, while the profile pictures on these comments had shown adult faces. “I can’t believe people would say such ugly things about someone they don’t know.”

“Face-to-face with you, not one of them ever would,” Fox ground out.

Molly swallowed, continued to stroke his back. “I’ll be fine.” It was a surprising realization—she’d wobbled a bit, but she hadn’t crashed. “It was unexpected, you know? The shock of it.” To innocently scroll down, expecting maybe the odd cheeky comment about getting carried away, and yes, even a number driven by envy… and see such vitriol directed personally at her, it had been a punch to the gut. “They called me fat.”

“If you’re fat, I’ll eat my fucking guitar,” Fox muttered, sliding down his hands to cup her butt. “You’re exactly right.”

A woman would have to be in a seriously bad headspace to argue with that statement from the sexiest man in the world, and while the online attack had shaken Molly, the knock hadn’t dented the heart of her. Nuzzling at his throat and drawing the primal masculine scent of him inside, she said, “We were lucky to skate under the radar this long, weren’t we?”

Fox’s eyes were solemn when they met her own. “Cost of doing what I was born to do is that I lose my privacy.” The edge in his tone was tempered by the protective heat of his hold. “I won’t lie. If you’re with me, you won’t have any either.” His chest rose as he drew in a breath, released it. “Soon as the vultures figure out we’re serious, they’ll dig up everything about you. And Molly”—one hand cupping her face—“you have to be ready for some of your friends to turn against you when offered a big payday.”