assured him the background check also confirmed her initial thoughts—Mia was flawless and perfect for the job.
A background check could easily make a person look good on paper, and Mia had certainly appeared to be innocent as an angel, but Bronson wanted to get to know more about the quiet, subtle Miss Spinelli. The one who, no matter what line she fed his mother, still may be sleeping with—and possibly spying for—his enemy.
And fate had just handed him the perfect opportunity. What better way to get to know someone than a little one-on-one time? With the exotic, sexy ambiance of the Cannes Film Festival next week, how could she resist succumbing to his charms as his escort? He hadn’t been dubbed People’s Sexiest Man Alive for nothing.
“I have a proposition for you,” he told her. “You’re traveling to Cannes with my mother. Correct?”
Mia nodded.
“There are ceremonies every evening with parties afterward. I want you to escort me to those events.”
“Escort you?” she asked, eyes wide. “But I’m only going to work with Olivia, and I hadn’t planned on attending any of the evenings’ festivities.”
He hadn’t planned on asking her to be his escort, but he also hadn’t planned on his first impression of her covered in iridescent droplets and wearing nothing but a piece of terry cloth. God knows he could invite any woman he knew, but he really didn’t want to have to entertain and make sure some diva was properly pampered. This woman, this virtual stranger, would be the ideal companion. He’d been on location nearly the entire time she’d been employed by his mother. He couldn’t think of a better venue to get to know Mia than to have her as his “date” for five nights in a row.
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” Mia said, taking a seat behind his mother’s desk and booting up the computer. “I’m pretty busy with Olivia, and I know we’ll be working just as hard in Cannes because she’s trying to finish this book by midsummer.”
Bronson stood on the other side of the desk, watching Mia’s delicate, ringless fingers fly over the keyboard. “I assure you, my mother will have no problem with your being my escort. You just worry about getting to the plane on time and packing light. I’ll have Victoria ship all the dresses you’ll need. She’s a whiz in a pinch.”
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