Kiss Me Forever (Bachelors & Bridesmaids #1)
Read Kiss Me Forever (Bachelors & Bridesmaids #1) Online
Authors: Barbara Freethy
Tags: #Contemporary Romance
KISS ME FOREVER
BACHELORS & BRIDESMAIDS (#1)
BARBARA FREETHY
Coming Soon
In the Bachelors and Bridesmaids series
Steal My Heart (#2)
All Your Loving (#3)
KISS ME FOREVER
From #1 NYT Bestselling Author Barbara Freethy comes Bachelors & Bridesmaids, a fun, romantic series about a group of female friends who start out as bridesmaids but end up falling in love!
In Kiss Me Forever, news reporter Andrea Blain is supposed to cover the news, not make it. But whenever she is on the trail of a big story, things just . . . happen. Andrea is given one last chance to prove herself with the cover story on sexy billionaire heartbreaker, Alexander Donovan.
The wealthy philanthropist appears to be living the American dream, but Andrea is determined to uncover the real story. But when Alex’s secrets are revealed, Andrea will have to choose between climbing the ladder of success or falling in love…
Kiss Me Forever
© Copyright 2013 Barbara Freethy
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED (v1)
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Chapter One
"You're done, Andrea," Roger Thornton said.
The editor-in-chief of
World News Today
had always been blunt, but his statement seemed a little harsh even for him. Andrea Blain sat up straighter as she faced her boss across the massive desk in his office. "Done as in fired?" she asked warily.
"You're not fired, but you're close. Do you know how much money we've spent the last six weeks helping you chase a story that turned out to be nothing?"
"It's not nothing. I just need more time to gather evidence."
"You don't need time. You need to refocus. You had a hunch; it didn't pay off."
"My source got scared off. I'll find someone else."
"It took you weeks to find him. Cut your losses."
She could not believe Roger was going to pull her off the story she'd been working on the past two months. She'd been talking to a potential whistleblower at a company that made car seats for children. There had been two fatal accidents involving the car seats in the last year. "If my hunch is right, my story could save lives."
"You'll have to work on it on your own time. If you had some real evidence, maybe I could give you another week, but all you have is a disgruntled employee and a lawsuit that was thrown out of court for lack of evidence."
"I also have two injured children," she reminded him.
"There's no concrete evidence the car seats were to blame."
"Not yet. But I think I can get it."
He frowned. "I'm sorry Andrea. You're out of time. I can't carry reporters on my staff who aren't actually reporting."
"Some stories take time to develop," she argued. "You know that."
Roger took off his glasses and rubbed a hand across his weary eyes. He was a big bear of a man, well over six feet tall and at least two hundred and fifty pounds. At age fifty-six, he'd been in the news business longer than she'd been alive, and she had a great deal of respect for him.
"I do know that, Andrea, and ten years ago I would have let you have that time. But we now operate on a 24-hour news cycle. If we don't have new content, we don't have readers. More importantly we don't have advertisers. We're struggling to stay alive in a world where most people get their news off of social media. I can't have reporters working on stories for weeks at a time. It's not cost effective."
"I understand the challenges—" she began.
He quickly cut her off. "It doesn't matter what you understand. We're moving on. I have a new story for you, one that will give you an opportunity to show the owners of this magazine that you actually work here, and that they have a reason to pay you a salary."
"What's the story?" she asked with a sigh, knowing that if the orders came from the top floor, there was no point in arguing any further.
Roger picked up a manila folder and pushed it across the desk to her. "Alexander Donovan."
"Who?" she asked, not sure she had heard him correctly.
"You know who he is. Alexander Donovan will be the magazine's
Man of the Year
, and you're going to write the cover story."
"Alexander Donovan is going to be our
Man of the Year
?" she echoed in disbelief. "Why? He makes computer games. He's a rich playboy. We should have someone serious on the cover, someone who is making a difference in the world. This is not my style." Andrea tossed the folder down on the desk and got to her feet.
Restlessness propelled her to the window. Ten floors below lay the busy streets of San Francisco, the city where she had come to find her dreams.
World News Today
was one of the top news magazines in the country, focusing on serious issues, politics, foreign policy and the global economy. The cover story was usually a plum job, one she would have loved to have if it had been anyone else, but Roger's choice of
Man of the Year
made the assignment seem like a joke. She turned back to face him. "Why are you doing this? Is the magazine changing focus?"
"Not at all. Alexander Donovan does more than make games. He's a philanthropist. He donates millions of dollars to schools and charity organizations. He runs camps for underprivileged children. He sends medical supplies to Africa. In a time when the world has become increasingly cynical, Alexander Donovan is the embodiment of generosity and hope."
"In other words, he's a master of public relations," she said cynically.
"He is a master, but don't close your eyes to the possibilities. I know this isn't your style. To be frank, it's not mine, either, but our publisher is convinced that Donovan will sell a lot more copies than some over-photographed politician. The cover will bring in readers that don't normally pick up the magazine. Your job is to keep them reading."
"How on earth will I do that?"
"Do what you do well, Andrea—find an angle."
"And if I can't?"
"Then you may want to start looking for another job."
She blew out a quick breath at his blunt statement. "It's that serious?"
"It is."
"So Alexander Donovan is my get-out-of-the-doghouse card?"
"Exactly."
Andrea sat back down in her chair and picked up Donovan's folder. "I don't know what you think I'm going to find that no one else has. I'm sure he's been interviewed dozens of times."
"He's been photographed thousands of times, but he hasn't done any in-depth interviews outside the celebrity magazine circuit. All we know about him is that he was born in Los Angeles. His parents died in an automobile accident when he was twelve. He went to live with his aunt. She died when he was seventeen. After that he made it on his own, no other relatives, not too many close friends. He made his first million before he was twenty-five years old, without the benefit of a college degree, and he hasn't looked back since. That was seven years ago. At thirty-two he is ranked among the top thirty wealthiest men in the country."
"That's amazing," she admitted.
"He's a success story, and people like to read about success stories, especially rags to riches. Our readership is primarily male, but Alexander Donovan will bring in the women. He's young, attractive and a billionaire."
"What more could a woman want?" she asked dryly.
"Exactly. But I want more from you than a fluff piece. I may have been pushed to put this man on the cover, but you're going to find me some reasons why he belongs there."
"All right. I'll do Alex Donovan." She stopped abruptly, realizing what she'd just said. "I mean, I'll interview him," she added hastily, ignoring Roger's grin.
"He's expecting you at his office in one hour."
"What if I have other plans? It's Friday night. I could have a date."
He raised an eyebrow. "You haven't had a date in months."
"Well, it's not because I haven't been asked," she grumbled.
"Oh, I know that, Andrea. You're a beautiful woman, but you're a workaholic, and while I appreciate your dedication, I know from firsthand experience that all work and no play equals burnout."
"Then why did you schedule a job for me on a Friday night?" she challenged.
"That was at Donovan's request. He's going to let you shadow him this weekend. I want to put this story to bed by the first of October. That gives you ten days. And one last thing—Donovan is not a stupid man. He also has a great deal of money and power. You're going to triple check every fact in your article. The last thing I need is a lawsuit."
The last thing she needed as well. "Got it."
She walked out of Roger's office and down the hall to her cubicle. It was in the far end of the newsroom and boasted one small window that overlooked downtown San Francisco. If she stood on her tiptoes at a certain angle, she could actually see the Golden Gate Bridge. Not that she ever took much time to look at the view—she was usually buried in her work. She loved her job, and she wanted to keep it. While she'd agreed to do the Donovan article, she was going to continue to work on her other story on the side.
Sitting down behind her desk, she opened the file of clippings Roger had given her. The photo on top was a picture of a man and woman leaving a party. The man was dressed in a sleek black tuxedo. He was tall with dark hair, a square face and a strong jaw. He was caught in midstride, the power of his movement clear even through the fuzziness of the photo. The expression on his face was a mixture of amusement and annoyance, and there was something about the thrust of his chin that seemed downright challenging.
The woman was pure eye candy, long cascading blonde hair, big breasts spilling out of a very tight and short dress.
Andrea sighed, turning the photo several different ways as she studied her next assignment. Did Alexander Donovan's eyes hide some sort of a mystery? Or was he just a good-looking man with too much money and too many women?
Whatever he was, she could handle it. She could handle anyone, as long as he wasn't a complete bore. Dull and uninteresting would mean death to her career—a career that was apparently on thin ice.
Her cell phone buzzed and she picked it up, seeing her friend Kate's number flash across the screen. "Hey, what's up?"
"I can't believe you actually answered your phone," Kate said. "You've been missing in action the last few weeks."
"Work," she said, knowing her friends were getting tired of that excuse, but it was the truth. She'd been so obsessed with her last investigation into the car seat manufacturer that she'd put everything else in her life on hold. She just wished she had something to show for all that time.
"We all work, Andrea," Kate reminded her. "But I didn't call you up to give you a lecture. Laurel and I are grabbing drinks tonight to discuss her bachelorette party. She said she's texted you several times but you haven't answered."
A wave of guilt ran through her. Her twin sister Laurel was getting married in a few weeks, and she wasn't doing a great job as the maid of honor. "I can't do drinks tonight. I have a work assignment. But I will try to be at brunch on Sunday. We can talk then."
"What kind of work do you have on a Friday night?"
"I've been assigned the cover story on Alexander Donovan, and he's agreed to let me shadow him this weekend."
"What?" Kate asked with a surprised squeal. "Are you serious? Are you telling me that you're going out tonight with
Celeb Magazine's 'Sexiest Man Alive'?
"
Andrea quickly leafed through the clippings in the folder in front of her, landing on the cover Kate had just mentioned. "I didn't realize," she said, a little mesmerized by the shot of a bare-chested Alexander Donovan. The man obviously did more than sit behind a desk all day. His abs were ripped.