Infamous. Jane Porter

as they drove from Spago back to Alexandra’s house, she sat as far as she could from Wolf in the snug sports car and kept her eyes firmly fixed out the passenger window.

      Wolf had reached a whole new level of despicability. He’d shown his true colors, behaved like a member of the animal kingdom more than once.

      “You’re still upset about the kiss,” Wolf said.

      His nonchalance only antagonized her further. “Everyone noticed your behavior at dinner.” She threw him a disgusted look. “You kept your arm on my shoulder throughout the meal as though you were afraid I’d bolt away any minute.”

      “I wasn’t afraid you’d run away. Your heels are far too high—”

      “Wolf, don’t play the charming-Irishman card right now, okay?”

      “And I like touching you,” he continued smoothly as though she’d never interrupted. “You’re my girlfriend. It’s my prerogative.”

      “And that’s how it felt, too. It was your prerogative to touch me. Your prerogative to kiss me. Your prerogative to do whatever you damn well pleased.” She finally turned to face him. “Next time why don’t you just pee all over me like an alpha wolf should.”

      He’d pulled up in front of her house, and turning off the engine, he flashed her a lazy white-toothed grin. “Hmm, kind of kinky for a girl without much experience, but if that’s what you want—”

      Alexandra threw the door open and jumped out of the car before she had to listen to another word.

      And as she undressed for bed, peeling the smart, sexy black dress off, Alexandra wanted to scream with frustration. Spending time with Wolf was hard, far harder than she’d even imagined. It wasn’t just one thing, it was everything. He wasn’t just physically gorgeous, his personality was huge, his charisma larger than life.

      He was far more than she could handle, and she’d known it, she’d known it from the beginning, but she wanted that promotion. She wanted it badly.

      And unless you’d been a little girl who’d grown up outside a small town, you didn’t appreciate that for girls in small towns opportunity meant a job at Wal-Mart and success meant one day owning your own car free and clear. Unless you’d been the only girl in a family of overbearing brothers, you didn’t understand the value of dreaming, and dreaming big.

      Unless you’d listened to the sound of television late into the night, the canned laughter on TV shows and overly loud commercials the only sound in your house after everyone else had gone to bed, you didn’t know the definition of escape.

      You didn’t know how important it was to get away and become someone else, something better, something more.

      But Alexandra knew all these things, had lived all these things, and she decided years ago she’d have a different life than her mother, her father, her brothers. She’d do it differently than the people who seemed to just get swept along by life.

      She wouldn’t be swept along. She’d do the sweeping.

      She wouldn’t ever make anyone take care of her.

      But Wolf Kerrick seemed determined to change all that. In fact, if she let herself really think about it, it felt as though Wolf Kerrick was sweeping her.

      CHAPTER FIVE

      ALEXANDRA’S FIRST thought on waking was that she needed to call Wolf immediately, before she lost her nerve.

      “We need to talk,” she said crisply, her tone no-nonsense when he answered the phone. “You hired me to make things better, not worse, and it’s important we find a way to keep our public appearance positive.”

      If she’d caught him off guard, he gave no indication. “I agree,” he said.

      Alexandra couldn’t read his inflection. “I can’t help your image if we can’t even communicate,” she continued stiffly. “So I propose we work harder at creating clearer communication channels.”

      “Communication channels, yes.”

      She understood then that he was, without a doubt, mocking her. And Alexandra knew that she had a choice—she could call him on his attitude, thus detouring from the purpose of her call, or she could let his sarcasm slide. She chose to let his sarcasm slide. “Before we go out again,” she persisted, “and before we make another appearance, we need to choreograph the evening.”

      Wolf cleared his throat. “Are we entering a dance competition, by chance?”

      Alexandra chose to ignore this bit of sarcasm, too. “I need to know before we go places what you expect and how we’re both to behave. I can’t wing it anymore. I’m not an actress and I can’t improvise the way you can.”

      There was silence on his end of the phone and the silence seemed to stretch endlessly.

      Exasperated, she closed her eyes, counted to five. “Did you hear me?”

      “What?” he asked innocently.

      “This doesn’t have to be difficult,” she said through gritted teeth.

      “You’re right.” And then his tone changed, his rough voice deepened. “So let me make this easier. We’ve a premiere Saturday afternoon. It’s a matinee since it’s a children’s film. I did the voice for one of the characters and I’ve promised to be there. You’ll attend and—” he broke off, hesitated as if searching for the right word “—pretend to enjoy me.”

      Alexandra flushed hotly. “That’s not exactly the choreographed routine I was imagining. It sounds more like a set of military orders.”

      “But at least you know my expectations.”

      “And what about mine?” she flashed, furious that she was losing her temper yet again but unable to stop it. He had the most negative effect on her. From the beginning he’d annihilated her self-control.

      “Well, you can expect to have your photograph taken, and expect to stand by my side and expect to be paid.” He paused. “Is there anything else?”

      “No,” she choked out, hanging up.

      The rest of the week passed too quickly for Alexandra’s taste, knowing that on Saturday she’d be with Wolf again, attending the premiere.

      She’d only been seeing him a few days, but already she was exhausted, worn out trying to juggle work responsibilities during the day and appearances with him.

      Fortunately she was looking forward to the film. Even though it was only a matinee for The Little Toy Solider, the newest Pixar animation, Alexandra was looking forward to seeing exactly what happened at premieres.

      She’d read about them for years in People magazine, seen the photos of celebrities attending, and now she was finally going to one.

      Even better, it was the premiere of an animated film—Alexandra’s secret favorite. Back before her brother Brock had been widowed, she used to go into Bozeman, Montana, with his late wife Amy and their kids to see all the Disney films. In her mind, Saturday afternoons were made for movies, and she was glad to be going, eager to see just what kind of cartoon toy soldier Wolf’d be.

      A stylist arrived at Alexandra’s house early Saturday morning, bringing with her several wardrobe options. Jointly Alexandra and the stylist settled on the low-hipped sexy charcoal trousers cinched by a wide gray croc belt with an enormous round pewter studded buckle. On top she was wearing a burnout velvet tank in a color somewhere between lemon and mustard, topped by a fitted cropped coat of the same rich, saturated color.

      She’d accessorized with sleek pewter heels and a chunky two-strand gray-and-white alabaster necklace. Her hair had been flatironed and it hung smooth and sleek past her shoulders. Makeup was even more subtle: pale foundation, lightly lined eyes in gray pencil, lots of mascara and a soft,