“Are you sure there’s nothing going on between them?”

Jeremy squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “Taylor—I think there’s something you probably should know about Naomi Cross.”


JASON STARED DISPASSIONATELY at the cameras and the reporters who waved their microphones at him, desperate to get a sound bite or two.

During the limo ride over, he had told Marty he wouldn’t be doing the press line at the premiere. He gave his publicist no explanation for this. Nor did he explain his sullen mood when Marty had jokingly offered him twenty-five million for his thoughts.

“At least try to look like you’re mildly interested in being here, darling,” Naomi urged, speaking softly in his ear so the surrounding media couldn’t hear. “Your public demands to be entertained.” She waved elegantly to a group of fans calling her name.

Jason took a step closer to the theater doors, hoping to end the charade as soon as possible. Naomi reluctantly followed. Ever the professional, the smile never left her face as she and Jason continued their private conversation.

“Did I mention how surprised I was to get your publicist’s call?” she asked.

“I made you a promise,” Jason said.

“Oh right . . . for helping out with that little situation at your party. With that lawyer friend of yours.” Naomi gave him a look. “How is she these days?”

“I don’t want to talk about her.”

“Trouble in paradise?” Naomi grinned wickedly. “Perhaps I should call her then. You know, I’m always looking for a good attorney . . .”

Jason glared. “You’re not her type, Naomi.”

“Hmm, pity. Then what went wrong, darling? Why isn’t she here with you?”

It took every ounce of Oscar-winning acting talent Jason possessed to keep his expression emotionless. In truth, it killed him to even think about Taylor.

“She’s gone. She went back to Chicago,” he said flatly.

Naomi nodded, then grinned affectionately. “Are you sure about that?” She pointed to something behind Jason’s back. Confused, he turned around—

And saw Taylor.

She stood before him on the red carpet, just a few feet away.

The crowd suddenly caught sight of Jason’s shocked expression and everyone fell silent. It’s the Mystery Woman, somebody whispered. A low murmur of excitement spread throughout.

Next to Jason, Naomi cleared her throat. “Well. Look at this—now I get to play the part of the jealous woman.” She glanced over. “And jealous I am . . . of you, Jason. Bloody heterosexuals—you’re almost coming back into style these days.”

She proudly pulled back her shoulders, ready to do her thing. “Thanks for the publicity, darling. I owe you.” And with that, Naomi spun around and stormed angrily past Taylor. When she got close enough so that only Taylor could see, she threw her a wink. Then she pushed her way through the crowd, hamming it up for the cameras.

Leaving Jason and Taylor alone.

With thousands of people watching, that is.


JASON SPOKE FIRST, in an emotionless tone. “What are you doing here?”

Taylor smiled nervously at the question and tried for a joke. “I, um, heard you were here.”

Jason shook his head. “Not this time, Taylor. No sarcasm.”

She panicked at this. No sarcasm? But . . . that was her thing. Without it, she was naked. Defenseless.

Just then, a camera flashed brightly, right in Taylor’s eyes. Another immediately followed, and another, then ten, twenty—she looked away, trying to adjust to the flickering lights. As she did, she saw that the crowd and everyone on the red carpet was staring at her.

Waiting.

When Jason saw her fall silent, his face went from expressionless to cold. He turned and walked toward the theater doors.

Taylor reacted. “Jason—wait. Just give me a ch—”

He whirled around furiously, cutting her off. “Why are you here? It’s a very simple question, Taylor. For once, I’d like a real answer from you.”

Taylor nodded. It was a simple question. But she was horrible at this kind of thing. Being open and all.

But she knew that this was The Moment. Her one chance to do it right. So with thousands of people watching, she gathered her courage and checked her pride and turned to America’s most notoriously womanizing bachelor and said—

“I’m here for you, Jason. Because I realized that the one person who could break my heart is the only one who should have it.”

The crowd fell dead silent.

Jason blinked, stunned by her words.

In the excruciatingly long silence that followed, Taylor’s heart pounded fiercely. Okay—maybe she’d shot over the moon with that one.

Or maybe she’d just been wrong.

But suddenly, Jason stormed across the red carpet. He walked up to Taylor and grabbed her by the waist and without thinking she wrapped her arms around his neck as the cameras, the reporters, the whole world fell away and—

He kissed her.

And the crowd went wild!

It was quite a kiss. Somewhere in the distance, Taylor thought maybe she heard the screams of the crowd and thunderous applause, but frankly, she could’ve cared less who saw her right then. With Jason, in that moment, was the only place she wanted to be.

He pulled back first, gazing deep into her eyes.

“I love you, Taylor. I think that I’ve been waiting for you to come into my life for a long, long time.” He grinned self-consciously. “I didn’t think you’d ever give me the chance to say that.”

Deeply touched by his words, Taylor gazed up at him and smiled tenderly.

“You had me at Shit Happens.”

Jason burst out laughing. He pulled Taylor into his arms and kissed her softly on the forehead.

And that was the picture the newspapers ran the next day, under the shocking caption, “Jason Andrews in Love!”

Suddenly, Marty appeared from out of nowhere.

“Jason, you’ve got to give the press something. They’re demanding to know the Mystery Woman’s name.”

Jason glanced over at Taylor. “It’s up to you.”

After a moment’s deliberation, she nodded. It was his life, after all.

So Jason gestured to the press line, the throng of waiting reporters, who frantically reached over the rope the moment he and Taylor stepped over. Ten thousand microphones were shoved instantly in her face.

“Who are you?” the reporter from E! demanded to know.

“Taylor Donovan,” she said, a bit awkwardly. Suddenly she knew what it felt like to be cross-examined.

“Are you an actress?”

“Are you a model?” another reporter called out from the back of the crowd.

“No, I’m a lawyer from Chicago.”

The reporters whispered amongst each other, confused by this.

The intrepid correspondent from Access Hollywood pushed out front, microphone in hand. “Are you and Jason dating?” she demanded to know.

Taylor hesitated. Wow—nothing like having to discuss your personal life with a few thousand strangers.

Far more used to this than she, Jason took the lead on that particular question. “No, I wouldn’t exactly call it dating,” he said. Everyone looked at Jason in surprise. Including Taylor.

He winked at her.

“Ms. Donovan is my fiancée,” he declared.

And the crowd went wild!

Again!

The frenzied paparazzi snapped one shot after the other as the fans cheered riotously at this revelation.

Taylor stared at Jason, shocked.

When she didn’t say anything for a moment—a long moment—he shifted nervously. Perhaps he had overshot a bit with that one.

“Well? What do you have to say to that?” Jason asked.

Taylor cocked her head. “Don’t you think we should have sex first?”

Jason laughed, hard. He yanked the pen out of the hand of the reporter nearest them, who had been scribbling eagerly in his notebook. “Don’t print that,” he said firmly.

Jason turned back to Taylor with a sly grin. “Well, yes, I was hoping we could get working on that.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I see. So . . . what are we waiting for?”

Jason pulled her close and whispered huskily in her ear. “One of these days you’re going to learn that that question can get you into all sorts of trouble.”

Taylor turned her face to his. “How long do you have to stay at this premiere?” she whispered softly.

They left twenty seconds later.


AS IT TURNED out, Taylor Donovan was a naughty lawyer indeed.

First she was naughty in the car, as Jason raced along the streets to her apartment.

“If you keep doing that, you’ll be turning in another wrecked PT Cruiser.”

“You said you wanted to drive,” Taylor whispered teasingly as she nibbled at his neck.

“Because I’m the man.”

“Fine. I’ll stop then, if that’s really what you want . . .”

The car careened wildly as it took the next corner.

“Fuck it,” Jason groaned. “I’ll buy you a new car.”


THEN SHE WAS naughty in her apartment, in the foyer inside the front door, on top of the console table.

“My bedroom’s just down the hall,” Taylor gasped as Jason tore open her shirt. Buttons flew everywhere.

“We’ll get there eventually,” he said, pushing up her skirt while sliding one hand along her thigh. He smiled wickedly as his fingers slowly inched their way up. She moaned and arched her back against the wall.

“Let’s go there now, Jason,” she commanded.

“My, my, aren’t we pushy . . .”


WHEN THEY FINALLY made it to the bedroom, she was naughty there, too.