It was supposed to be just another day at work for a local newspaper reporter, Stella Holt. She had always loved her job, and believed she was good at it. Until one day when she was sent to interview the author of a worldwide bestseller who had made so many women fall in love with him.
James Collins is not just a word-painter. His every work is a masterpiece, a perfect blend of mystery and mind-blowing romance. Only in his own life, there is no place for romance. He knows everything about women, starting from what they like most, and to the ways to seduce them with only a glance. But there’s a secret that has been aggrieving him for years, a secret that has locked his heart forever…
“I thought I would never fall in love with you, Stella. And I didn’t… I drowned in you…”
Genre: FICTION / Contemporary Women“Good morning, Stella,” someone said behind me. I swallowed hard, frantically thinking of how long it would take me to get to a knife, because whoever was standing behind me was not supposed to be there. Only Dillon and I had the key to the front door.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Have you ever thought about using a cat protection? Well, I have. Slowly, I turned around, bracing myself to throw the cat at the offending person so I could make a getaway. Once I finished turning, I saw a pair of rich whiskey eyes staring at me.
I swallowed again. I knew those eyes, I saw that sly-fox look on the pictures.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
There, just a few feet away from me, James Collins was standing. And unlike me, he didn’t have a reason to look surprised or scared half to death.
“I thought you were supposed to arrive at noon,” I said, shutting the fridge and letting the cat go. Neither of us was glad to see the unexpected guest invading our kitchen that early in the morning. He made a run for the living room. Well, at least one of us can hide… I thought to myself.
“Barbara’s store rescheduled my book signing for noon, so I had to arrive earlier. I hope it was not the coffee machine that woke you.”
I looked at the cup in James’ hands, my favorite cup by the way, and shook my head, saying, “No. It was the cat.”
James nodded, still watching me carefully. Well, that made two of us actually. I shall admit it – the pictures didn’t give enough credit to this man. There was nothing special about his clothes, just a pair of jeans and a dark-blue shirt, with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but he still looked as if he had just stepped off one of those fashion magazine covers.
