Page 3

Red alert. Red alert. Sam Silverton is holding my hand.

He’s looking at me eagerly, as if he's delighted by the thought of being glued to my side for the next few days. As my cheeks go up in flames, I realize I can't grab my phone while he's holding my hand to look up if spontaneous human combustion is real. And why can I hear my pulse in my ears? It’s like pressure is building and has nowhere to go.

He squeezes my hand gently, sending electricity flowing from his skin to mine. "It has to be you, Julia. You're the prettiest, sweetest woman I've ever seen."

Kaboom.

2

SAM

Crap.

The gorgeous woman in front of me should not be turning pink like this.

I quickly drop her hand and stare into her magical blue-gray eyes. "I'm sorry," I sputter. "I thought you meant…you're so beautiful… You’d look amazing on camera."

Julia sips her water, fingers trembling. Then she takes a slow breath. "We were thinking about finding you someone like a kindergarten teacher. Extra wholesome, you know?"

No. There is no way I can even pretend-date anyone else after seeing Julia. People – especially my bandmates – mock me for writing about women so much when I've never had a long-term girlfriend. I haven't even dated in the past three years. At the same time, I'm not going to date just for the sake of dating. There has to be a real connection. Like this magnetic pull toward Julia.

I've never felt an actual spark in my palm while shaking someone's hand. Never felt such an overwhelming need to snuggle a woman into my arms and stroke her long, dark hair. Never felt this deep, lusty urge to just tear off a woman's t-shirt and jeans to admire every curve, every inch of her skin.

And those lips! I’ve never had to fight the impulse to kiss someone before. It's wild. Is it possible to have a crush on someone after just a few minutes? If I were fourteen, I’d already be hanging a poster of her in my room.

For the first time in my life, I’m going to try to talk a woman into doing something she doesn’t want to do. It’s against my principles, but I have no choice.

"Okay," I say gently, leaning back, giving her as much space as possible. "Let's look at this logically. You want wholesome. Well, you seem wholesome. Unless you have any big ol’ skeletons in your closet." When she hesitates, I check her ring finger. Bare.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You already have a boyfriend. I would never want to mess with that."

She smirks, shaking her head. "No, no boyfriend."

"Prison record?" Headshake. “A public scandal worse than mine?" Another shake. "You're a mean drunk and you're banned from all the bars and restaurants on the list?"

She snickers.

"I’ve got it. You're booked solid with your other job as…" My fingers drum on the Formica table. "A professional gymnast who teaches specialized techniques to pole dancers?"

Finally Julia laughs, a sweet sound that rings straight through me. "No. It’s just that I like to stay as far out of the spotlight as I possibly can."

"Are you on social media?"

"Just one friends and family account." She shrugs. "I probably check it once a month."

"So, nobody can look you up. They can't write about you if they don't know your name. We could spend some time together over the next few days, have a couple of laughs, do a bit of shopping, and that's that." I flash the smile photographers always ask for and that women seem to love. "We're not going anywhere with huge crowds. And you know I'd protect you from anyone who got a bit pushy."

Julia stares down into the last of her coffee, fingers tight around the mug. Then she nibbles at her bottom lip. I already can't stop staring at her mouth, but that quick flash of her teeth chewing gently at her skin…damn. My jeans are instantly too tight at the front. I haven't had a sudden massive erection like this in ages.

"Okay, I’ll say it." Her hands flatten on the table. "I'm shy. I don't know how to deal with strangers. And I know what you're thinking – why is this woman in public relations if she can't relate to the public? The answer is, I studied marketing, then joined my older sister's company."

"That's perfect. That explains how we met."

"It’s unprofessional."

My fingers snap. "So it would be a scandal! Or at least very inappropriate."

Her mouth falls open with a gasp. "Wow. You're right."