Kostas's Convenient Bride. Lucy Monroe

the lead in...” He named a new and rising-in-popularity Broadway production. “And the brat doing the tweeting? She’s my twin, but she’s also a famous model. Just ask her.”

      The beautiful younger woman put her phone where Kayla could see the screen. “It’s true. See? I have over a million Twitter followers.”

      “I’m a software designer. I don’t get out much,” Kayla muttered.

      Both Jacob and his sister laughed, clearly more amused than offended.

      “So, you’ll let me show you my city?” Jacob asked persuasively.

      His supermodel sister grinned and winked. “Oh, do say yes. It’s been an age since he’s been out with anyone who wasn’t a total sycophant.”

      She didn’t want to go back to the hotel, where Andreas would be soon. “Maybe I will.”

      “Maybe we can start our evening early.” Jacob jumped onto Kayla’s tentative agreement.

      “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not done shopping.”

      “I make a great shopping buddy.” He smiled engagingly. “Just ask my sister.”

      “He really does,” said the woman, still very busy with her smartphone.

      And that was how Kayla found herself spending the next several hours in the very pleasant company of a Broadway star. It was kind of amazing. Other than a couple of people asking for Jacob’s autograph, people mostly left him alone. New Yorkers took his presence and even Kayla’s with him in stride.

      “Do you want to stop at your hotel and get ready to go out?” he asked solicitously later.

      No, she really didn’t, not and risk running into Andreas. Kayla’s backpack had everything she needed besides the clothes and shoes she’d bought while out shopping.

      “It might make more sense to get ready at your place so you could get ready at the same time,” she offered.

      “I like the way you think.”

      He put the arm not carrying packages for her around her shoulder. “Don’t take that as some kind of invitation.”

      “I wouldn’t dream of it.” The laughter in Jacob’s voice mocked her.

      But Kayla smiled anyway.

      Jacob lived in an older, secure building, not far from the theater district. Jacob came out of the bedroom dressed in designer jeans that showed off his manly assets in delicious ways and a white silk shirt.

      He approached Kayla, who had changed into the new dress in his tiny bathroom and applied makeup before pulling her tight curls into a messy bun on top of her head. Masculine approval glowed in his blue eyes. “You look amazing, Kayla.”

      “Thank you.”

      Jacob put his hands on her shoulders, intent unmistakable in his eyes.

      Pounding on his door startled them both. Jacob jumped back. “What the hell?”

      “Open the damn door,” Andreas bellowed from the other side.

      Kayla gasped. “Andreas.”

      More pounding. “I know you are in there, Kayla. Tarkent, open this door!”

      Jacob’s last name was Tarkent?

      “Do you know who that is?” Jacob asked.

      “My boss.”

      “Your boss?” Jacob asked. “Not your boyfriend.”

      “No. Boss.”

      “He sounds like a pissed-off lion.”

      The door shook with the force of Andreas’s pounding. “Kayla!”

      “Um, yeah.”

      “Do I open it or call the police?”

      “I wouldn’t call the police.” She’d never seen Andreas in this mood. She didn’t know what he was capable of, but she did know theater productions needed backers and backers meant money and Andreas knew how to manipulate money.

      “Are you afraid of him?”

      “Afraid of him?” Sudden fury filled Kayla and she marched to the door. “The day I’m afraid of Andreas Kostas is the day I stop being Kayla Jones. I am not afraid of that man, or any other man, Jacob Tarkent.”

      She threw the locks and yanked the door open. Then stood there, her arms crossed, glaring at her boss, not moving one inch backward.

      Andreas had to pull his hand back from another set of furious pounding. “There you are.”

      “Here I am. The question is, what the heck are you doing here, Andreas? I don’t believe you were invited on this date.”

      “You can’t go on a date with him. You don’t know him!” Andreas looked as disheveled as Kayla had seen him in a very long time. His tie had been loosened to dangle away from his collar, the first button on his shirt undone. His hair looked like he’d been running his fingers through it, his face showing the signs that he’d missed his second shave of the day.

      “I met his sister. I spent the day with him. I’m fine.”

      “You are not fine.” Andreas managed to maneuver his way into the apartment. “You are coming back to the hotel with me and we are talking.”

      “I am going on a date with Jacob. Then if I want to I am spending the night with him. If I come back to the hotel, whenever that might be, you can explain to me how you found me here.” She turned to face Andreas, bothered by the fact that he was now inside Jacob’s apartment and that had not been Kayla’s intention at all.

      “He had to have set private investigators on you. They probably found you through my sister’s tweets,” Jacob said.

      “Did you?” Kayla demanded, fury riding her like it hadn’t in years.

      Andreas’s cheeks burnished red in admission of guilt. “I am not leaving you here,” he insisted stubbornly, without bothering to answer the accusation.

      Jacob came up beside her, putting his arm around her shoulders possessively. “You are not invited on our date.”

      Andreas’s jaw twitched.

      Kayla wanted to feel something at having an attractive man’s arm around her, some spark of desire and sexual appreciation. She didn’t. She didn’t even feel truly comfortable. If she wasn’t so annoyed with Andreas and wanting to make a point, Kayla would have stepped away from Jacob’s hold for her own sense of peace.

      “Kayla, you and I need to talk.” Andreas had that tone and expression he used when he was trying very hard to be reasonable but was a nanosecond away from losing his Greek temper.

      “Not tonight,” she denied.

      “I canceled everything.”

      “Funny. I did the same thing. Only I’m on vacation time. Do you know what that means, Andreas?”

      “No,” he gritted out.

      Andreas Kostas was a man who disliked not having all the answers. Who was she kidding? He hated not having just one answer out of a hundred questions. The man defined overachieving perfectionist.

      “Oh, I know the answer to this one,” Jacob drawled, not realizing what dangerous waters he was swimming into. “It means, Mr. Armani-Suited Businessman, she’s not obliged to spend her off-hours with you. Talking or otherwise.”

      “Kayla is not merely my employee, she is my business partner.”

      Kayla snorted at that stretching of the reality of their situation.

      “Am I lying?” Andreas demanded, his voice gone dangerously soft.

      “Can