Caught in the Spotlight

She looked up from the screen, licking her naked lips. “But why me?”

“Why not you?” he countered, liking this idea more and more.

“I’m just an assistant.”

Bronson shrugged. “All the more reason. Unless you don’t want to be seen with me because of your recent scandal with your previous employer.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Or you have a jealous lover.”

Mia’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe that out of all the women you know, you’d want to take me.”

Her swift dodge of his question wasn’t very subtle, but he’d let it pass. For now.

“I won’t lie.” Leaning on his palms on the edge of the mahogany desk, Bronson offered a crooked grin and eased back just a bit so he didn’t seem too overbearing. “I’m protective of my mother. I’m using this as a prime opportunity to get to know you better.”

A sinful, beautiful smile spread across her face. “I understand being protective about family. In that case, I’d love to attend with you, as long as Olivia doesn’t mind.”

Bronson stood straight up and returned her smile. “She won’t. Trust me.”

Trust me.

It had been four days since Bronson had flashed his sexy smile and charmed her into turning her working trip into something more social.

And she should’ve flat-out told him no. He wouldn’t have asked her to attend parties and ceremonies with him, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have asked her to trust him, if he knew the secret she held. A secret that would ruin his family’s tight bond.

Mia shook the guilt off and concentrated on her immediate mission: she was in Cannes and she was going to be waltzing into glamorous events on the arm of Hollywood’s sexiest bachelor. She had to look better than her best.

Which shouldn’t be a problem. Looking back at her were five—yes, five—glamorous Victoria Dane original designs. Mia took a step back in her luxurious suite, unable to catch her breath. Olivia had told her that Victoria always kept multiple designs on hand for any star who needed a dress last minute.

Cinderella and her fairy godmother had nothing on Mia and this amazing array of glitzy dresses.

She had to keep reminding herself that she was just an assistant, but Mia certainly felt like a star as she spun in a little-girl-like circle, giddiness overwhelming her.

Was this really happening? Was she really in Cannes working for Olivia Dane by day, dressing up in a Victoria Dane gown at night and mingling with celebrities on the arm of hotshot producer Bronson Dane? Did she hit the job jackpot or what?

She and Olivia had worked a couple hours on the long flight over and Olivia had given Mia the rest of the day off. Of course, Mia figured Olivia was shopping at all the specialty shops.

Mia smiled as she recalled how surprised, yet excited Olivia was when she’d learned Mia was escorting Bronson to the parties and awards ceremonies. The Grand Dane had smiled, clasped her jeweled fingers together and said, “Wonderful.”

Everything about working for the Grand Dane was incredible. Mia had been scared to leave Anthony at first, but now she knew this was the best decision for everyone. She’d come to love him like family—though not in the way the family-wrecking tabloids had portrayed their relationship. She hoped he could put his marriage back together.

Mia’s heart ached for Anthony. Never once had their relationship turned intimate, but the tabloids assumed and printed the worst, in turn hurting his wife. Yes, they’d spent a lot of time together, but they were always working.

Mia knew Olivia believed her, but what about Bronson? Did he also assume the worst about her? More than likely. There was no love lost between the two Hollywood big shots, which meant he probably believed the rumors. He’d already implied as much.

Hopefully, her actions would win his trust in time. He’d had his fair share of scandal in the media. Surely he didn’t believe everything he heard or read. Hollywood certainly wasn’t known for honesty.

And she’d never expected anything like this when she’d come to work for Olivia. When she’d been employed by Anthony, she’d traveled with him to film sites, but never, ever to a glamorous film festival. And here she was in Cannes. Just the trip itself was thrilling, but adding all the extras on top of that was fabulous.

First, she’d expected a simple room, not a suite, and she never, in her wildest dreams, thought she’d be treated like a princess when she was just … an assistant. But she’d take this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and not question the whys.

With a delicate touch, because God knew she’d never be able to cover the expense of just one of these dresses, even though her pay was very generous, she looked over the gowns as she envisioned dancing the night away in each one.

Spending money on clothes was not a priority in Mia’s life, unlike many women who lived in Hollywood. But she certainly wouldn’t turn down the opportunity to wear these classy, elegant designs.

Would she be dancing with Bronson all night? Would her body press against his as they swayed? She’d be lying to herself if she pretended she hadn’t thought of being close to him, feeling his arms around her.

More than likely he had a whole slew of women who danced with him at such events, but he’d chosen her to escort him. What did that mean? And he’d gone to the trouble of getting his sister involved. Did he just want to get to know her better, as he’d said? She could understand that, but somewhere deep inside she thought he must find her attractive or he wouldn’t have asked her to accompany him every single night.

The memory of his eyes taking in her bare skin when he’d caught her coming out of the shower had her body humming. She wasn’t vain, but she also wasn’t stupid. Bronson hadn’t been immune to the fact she’d been pretty much naked.

Reality check.

To think that Bronson Dane found her attractive sounded absurd, even in her own head. He worked with movie starlets, dated models and had literally seen women who exemplified perfection in the flesh. He’d even been engaged to a stunning makeup artist. But still, his eyes had widened on seeing her, and the muscle had ticked in his jaw. Her body heated again when she recalled how close they’d been as he’d held her bag away from her. He’d smelled so … masculine, powerful. Sexy.

Mia pulled the short, black, chiffon dress from the closet and held it in front of her as she turned to the full-length mirror. This would be for the first party. All the dresses were gorgeous, but this one—this would make the biggest impact. She wanted Bronson’s first impression of her in Cannes to be memorable.

The simplicity of the black gown and her black hair would complement each other and hopefully help her blend in with the rich and famous. She certainly didn’t want to be an embarrassment on Bronson’s arm. She may have immature thoughts, but she wanted him to notice her as more than his mother’s assistant.

Nerves danced around in her belly. How could she even compare to the arm candy Bronson normally had draped over him?

A laugh escaped her as she hung the dress back up. Had she just compared herself to arm candy? She wasn’t here to try to win Bronson over as her boyfriend or even her lover … but that didn’t stop her from wishing to be noticed by Hollywood’s sexiest bachelor. What woman wouldn’t want to be desired by such a strong, powerful man who ranked his loving family at the top of his priority list? There wasn’t a woman alive who wouldn’t want to be part of his inner circle.

But amid the excitement and arousal, guilt gnawed away at Mia as she pulled another dress from the closet. How could she take so much from this family when she knew a secret that could very well destroy their perfect happiness?

Unfortunately, the secret wasn’t hers to reveal. And since she had come to care about all the key players, she felt torn between her loyalty to her former employer and her loyalty to her current employer.

Right now all she could do was keep her own counsel and enjoy herself in one of the most exotic, memorable places on earth. Borrowing trouble that was utterly out of her hands wouldn’t help ease the guilt or make the nearly forty-year-old secret disappear.

Mia’s cell rang, breaking into her thoughts. She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit the Talk button.

“Hello?”

“I trust you found the dresses to your satisfaction.”

Mia’s gaze traveled back to the open closet. “Yes, Bronson, they’re gorgeous. I could never thank you or Victoria enough.”

“And the jewelry is all to your liking?” he asked. “If not, I can call the jeweler and have some pieces traded out.”

Mia’s eyes went to the dresser where velvet boxes were stacked. She hadn’t even opened them, but she knew the contents were surely more glamorous than anything she’d ever seen.

She fingered the simple locket around her neck. “Everything is more than I’d hoped for. Thank you.”

“Tonight’s viewing begins at seven-thirty,” he went on. “We have to be on the red carpet by quarter to seven, so I’ll meet you down in the lobby by the elevator at six-thirty.”

Without another word, he hung up. Mia didn’t quite know what to make of his abruptness. On the jet en route to Cannes he’d made idle chitchat—nothing personal. At times she’d feel someone staring at her and turn to see those crystal-blue eyes on her as if he were just as intrigued with her as she was with him—at least, she liked to think that was the reason. And when she caught him, he didn’t even pretend that he hadn’t been studying her. But why would a strong, powerful playboy be shy or coy? He could have any woman he wanted, and that woman would gladly follow those endless baby blues anywhere. She was no exception.

She was finding, in the few encounters she’d had with Bronson, that he was a hard man to get to know, especially when he delivered a twenty-second phone call that was straight and to the point and hung up before she could even ask a question.

Mia sighed as she padded to the bath. A nice, long bubble bath would do her nerves some good. With Olivia out shopping with some friends for the day, Mia could just relax.