Love by the Numbers
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Lillian Linden-Smith needs this job. With a relentless TV lawyer and public mob still out for her blood for crimes committed by her "American royalty" parents, getting out of the country is her only hope for anonymity. If that means cleaning up and presenting an antisocial know-it-all Ph.D. for bookstores, clubs and lectures, fine. Dr. Hathaway may have succeeded in driving away all the others, but not this time.
From their first meeting the sparks fly, and each is thinking: She has no idea who she's dealing with.
It's hate at first sight in this love adventure from the author of Above Temptation, Roller Coaster and dozens of other best-selling, award-winning novels.
Passepartout with Benefits.” Nicole fixed her gaze just over Lily’s shoulder. “You are an excellent Passepartout. And the benefits, as you call them, are quite wonderful. But I do not want an assistant for life.” “This is a lot for you to give up.” Lily touched the e-mail printouts. “I know this was hard.” Her eyes burning like topaz fire, Nicole said fiercely, “I was thinking only of how I could be with you, and it was easy.” “But…” Lily didn’t know why she was arguing so hard against
them both some time ago.” She forestalled the expression of sympathy by adding, “That’s why I’m so grateful to join you tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve spent time with a family.” “And you two do nothing but bicker,” Indira said to her daughters. “I hadn’t noticed,” Lily said. “Now you’re being polite.” Nicole set down her fork. “There’s no need. We were, in fact, bickering.” “I’m not saying that you weren’t.” Lily could arch an eyebrow too. “I refuse to acknowledge it, which is quite
her as a Stepford Wife in the making nor when she’d realized that she was not traveling with a plastic and inauthentic Barbie clone. She put down her phone and paced the room, her brain furiously turning over new data. Her physical response was out of all proportion with the situation. Her respiration was elevated. She felt a little dizzy, even, and adrenaline made it impossible to work or sleep. Maybe there was a fitness room in the hotel. Even if it was a lone stationary cycle or treadmill she
let your hair go back to its natural color?” Lily’s hand clenched on the wheel. After their discussion at the restaurant in Dijon she had expected Nicole to figure out who she was—she was a researcher after all. But when Nicole had said nothing for the rest of their time in France or their two days in Geneva, she’d wondered. But it was good they weren’t face-to-face because she didn’t want Nicole to see her fighting tears again. “I don’t know. That depends on other people.” Nicole seemed to be
it as she ate her eggs. They looked tasty, but at the moment, Lily was far too emotionally involved with her coffee to want anything else. Even the Spanish café in Greenwich Village couldn’t match what was an “average” blend in Spain. The little carafe of slightly sweetened and thickened milk was the crowning pleasure of her liquid breakfast. Not making much of an effort to hide her true feelings, she added, “Or we could stay here. I know a wonderful eatery. But…I did call Un—Damon Linden, and I