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She turned slowly in her sleeping bag to face him, her face inches from his own.
‘Goodnight, Jack,’ she whispered.
Before he realised what she was doing she’d leaned in towards him and touched his lips softly with hers. She smelled sweetly of the baby wipes she’d smuggled in, and she tasted of toothpaste—and the moment her lips were against his he had absolutely no chance.
Before she could move away he raised a hand and slid his fingers into her hair, tugging it from its loose tie and relishing its silkiness, his thumbs stroking along the softness of her jaw. The silk of her skin beneath his hands was delicious, the closeness tantalisingly unfamiliar in the outdoor situation. He tilted her face gently. Another kiss, his own kiss this time, deeper, a chance to savour her.
The fire spat and popped behind her. Evie was vaguely aware of it warming her back as his tongue slipped softly against her own. One of her hands crept up and around his neck, and with the other she felt her way slowly over the padded sleeping bag to curl it around his back.
Delicious heat coursed through her as she pushed her reservations aside. Jack Trent was not some wannabe partygoer, desperate for the kudos of bedding Miss Knightsbridge. He had his own life, his own agenda, and he wasn’t remotely seduced by shallow motivations. This was not a repeat of her same old mistake, made again and again in her desperation for love and approval. He was different. With him she could be herself, and for once that was good enough.
I wrote this story in the middle of winter, just after Christmas, in that lull during the New Year when going out is on the back burner and it’s cold outside. I spent rather a lot of my evenings back then cozied up on the sofa in my pyjamas, fighting my husband for the remote control and watching all kinds of TV. And it was on one of those evenings that the first seeds of this story came together.
If, like me, you’ve ever watched a reality TV show and thought There’s no way that person is really as in-your-face as that … or That situation has to have been a set-up … then you’ll know exactly where I’m coming from with Evie and Jack’s story. It’s a story of larger-than-life alter egos and hidden backgrounds, and the world of reality TV is the perfect backdrop for it. A place where you can hide your faults or your past behind an image and be whoever you want to be. Public approval can be a hard thing to give up, but Evie and Jack must work hard to see past the TV hype if they are to find happiness.
The setting for this book was great fun to plan and write—and, as always, I hope I can entertain you!
Love
Charlotte x
Man vs. Socialite
Charlotte Phillips
CHARLOTTE PHILLIPS has been reading romantic fiction since her teens, and she adores upbeat stories with happy endings. Writing them for Mills & Boon® is her dream job. She combines writing with looking after her fabulous husband, two teenagers, a four-year-old and a dachshund. When something has to give, it’s usually housework. She lives in Wiltshire.
For my mum, with love and hugs.
Contents
The thing about smartphones was that when you were public enemy number one you could pick up all derogatory comments about you in one place. Convenient, not.
A post online...
Like to see @evieITgirl eat roasted rat. Where does she get off bad-mouthing @SurvivalJackT? #shallow
New Social Network group...
Sack Evie Staverton-Lynch from reality TV show Miss Knightsbridge. 15000 likes and counting.
Video currently going viral...
Watch It-girl Evangeline Staverton-Lynch accuse TV survival expert Jack Trent of sham expeditions.
The hit counter was heading towards six figures and the hateful mobile-phone clip had only been posted two days ago.
Crisis talks were called that for a reason. Evie turned off her phone with its tirade of abuse and sipped the horrible coffee in the office of the one person who might be able to get her out of this hole she’d dug for herself.
Chester Smith, PR to the stars, to whom she’d pledged a percentage of her income for the foreseeable future and whose manipulation of the media was responsible for her meteoric rise from insignificant socialite with too much time on her hands to darling of the reality-show-viewing public, sat