Page 2 of The Prince's Game
“Surely you’ve googled him.”
“No. Why would I?”
“Because you’re a contestant on a game show to win a marriage proposal?”
I snorted. “Yeah, no. That’s not going to happen.” I wouldn’t be around long enough to make it to that point, and I had no intention of accepting or hearing a marriage proposal in the next five years. I liked my single life just fine, thank you.Damn you, Abby, for sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.
“Really? Isn’t that the whole point of the game?” His hands were tucked into his jeans, leaving only an inch or so between us. Leather and peppermint tickled my nose, an alluring scent that had me wanting to get closer to him rather than back away.Too bad he works for RNW.
“Is it? I thought the point was to produce good television at the expense of a bunch of hopeful reality stars?” That was too harsh. “Sorry, still a little bitter about the teleprompter. You’re not one of the writers, are you?” Because that would be embarrassing.
His laugh was unexpected and made me shiver. Who knew a laugh could be so sexy? It was like a cup of hot chocolate on a cold Chicago night, warming me from head to toe.Yum. It might be worth going on this show to see him again. Except it would cost me my job, so maybe not. Stern and Associates wasn’t my dream career, but it paid the bills. My MBA from Northwestern wasn’t cheap.
“What’s your name again?” There were dimples in his smile. Very cute.
“Sarah Summers. My parents had a thing for alliteration.”
“So your middle name is something with anS?”
“Savannah.” I grimaced. “Yeah, it’s as bad as it sounds.”
“Sarah Savannah Summers.”
“That’s me.” My sister was the lucky one. Abigail Bridget Summers. A normal name for a quirky woman who didn’t know when to grow up. For years we impersonated each other, much to our parents’ chagrin. It’s what identical twins did. What they didn’t do was try out for reality television shows under their sister’s name and send the paperwork with the word “Enjoy!” written on a Post-it note.
I thought it was all a bad joke until the travel documents arrived. A one-way ticket to New Orleans. The Big Easy was on my travel bucket list, but I never thought I’d get there through a dating show. When I tried to call Abby for an explanation, I got her voicemail. When I called her best friend, I learned my devious sister was on a European cruise with her latest sugar daddy. The vacation timing was not an accident.
“Are you one of the producers?”
That made him laugh again. He had this just-got-out-of-bed-and-didn’t-give-a-damn-for-the-world look going on. It was the five o’clock shadow paired with his dark, messy locks that completed it. He must have run his hands through those thick strands a few times this morning and decided it was good enough for public. Or maybe he just rolled out of bed after a long night of pleasing a woman. Those full lips looked like they could do all sorts of wicked things to a girl.
“I’m really starting to think this isn’t an act.”
“An act? Am I auditioning for something?”
“To be a wife, right?”
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. “Sure. That’s my life goal. To get married,” I deadpanned. I had nothing against marriage. It was a fine institution that worked for most people, but not for me. I dreamed of one day owning a firm that assisted nonprofits with marketing efforts. If I found the right guy who respected my aspirations, I would consider settling down. So far, every man I dated was interested in sex or creating a family. The former was fine; the latter wasn’t in my near future.
A short, white-haired woman rounded the corner with frantic steps, her heels clacking against the tile. When she spotted us in the hallway, her nose scrunched up so high her eyes squinted.
“Mr. Mershano!” The lady had the “mom voice” down pat. It made both of us cringe.Busted, ran through my mind even though I wasn’t doing anything wrong.
Wait . . . Did she just sayMr. Mershano?
“Hey, Valerie.” He gave the woman a charming grin, one he no doubt spent his youth perfecting every time he got into trouble. “Did you need me for something?”
“You arenotallowed to speak to the contestants before the show. If the producers found out, they would throw a fit!” Her lips pinched as her hazel eyes sharpened with disapproval. “Back to your room.”
“Yes, ma’am.” His gaze was pure sin as he addressed me. “See you next week, Sarah Summers.”
Well, shit. Evan Mershano was a fox.
“That’ll be all for today, Miss Summers.” Valerie pointed the opposite way toward the elevators, her tone brooking no argument.
He was the first to move, shooting a wink at me over his shoulder before sauntering down the hallway.Huh.Well, wouldn’t you know?Evan Mershano did have a nice ass. Pity I wouldn’t be getting acquainted with it.
* * *
