Just the Sexiest Man Alive(48)

To her.

Right then.

“Sorry.” Taylor regrouped, managing to find her voice. “I can’t remember where I parked my car, that’s all.”

“I’d be happy to give you a ride if you need one.”

Taylor gave him a look. He may have been Scott Casey, but she was no fool. At least not twice in one night, anyway.

“I’ll be fine,” she told him. “It’s around here somewhere.”

“You’re leaving the party so soon. I hope nothing’s wrong?”

For some reason, Taylor found herself warming a little to him. Perhaps it was the look of concern in his light hazel eyes. Or possibly the killer Australian accent.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said lightly. “I just need to get an early start tomorrow, for work.”

“Work on a Sunday?” Scott made a face. “What do you do?”

“I’m a lawyer.” Taylor saw that this registered with him.

“I should’ve guessed,” he mused. “You were wearing a suit in that one photograph, and no one in this town wears suits except lawyers and agents.”

“Photograph?” Taylor tried to imagine where on earth Scott Casey would’ve seen her photograph. Then it hit her. “Oh, the magazines.”

He stepped a little closer. “You’re on all the covers again this week. You are the Mystery Woman, aren’t you?” he asked in a coyly curious tone.

“Would it surprise you if I was?”

“Not at all.” His eyes took her in appreciatively. “I’m only surprised they didn’t photograph you from the front. Your face belongs on a magazine cover.”

Taylor paused. That was actually kind of smooth.

Admittedly, she had a secret weakness for compliments like that. Growing up with three older brothers, she hadn’t paid much attention to fashion trends, makeup, hairstyles, or other things of the type that the typical teenage girl devoted hours to studying. The one time she had actually dared to sneak home a copy of Seventeen magazine had yielded disastrous results: her brothers had mocked her incessantly for days. So instead, Taylor had gone through high school as the “smart girl,” and she’d been just fine with that. Although, admittedly, “smart girls” were not exactly what teenage boys were interested in.

Eventually, when Taylor got to college and teamed up with Valerie and Kate, her friends convinced her to get rid of the out-of-date glasses and tomboy ponytail. One rainy Saturday morning, Val even managed to talk her into a makeover. The results had surprised not only Kate and Val, but Taylor herself. The three of them, using their fake IDs, had gone out to the campus bars that night, and it had taken Taylor all of about fifteen seconds of obvious male appreciation to decide that her new look was one she could live with.

Nevertheless, as is often the case despite a person’s latter achievements, Taylor’s high school “smart girl” label stuck with her into adulthood, and she still blushed whenever a good-looking guy told her she was attractive.

Which was exactly what she did right then, hearing Scott’s compliment.

“Thank you,” she smiled modestly. “It’s sort of an arrangement Jason made with the tabloids. They can’t publish any pictures that identify me.”

“Hence the ‘mystery’ part,” Scott said cutely.

Taylor studied him curiously. He didn’t exactly seem like the kind of guy who often used the word “hence.” Was it possible that he—Scott Casey—was actually trying to impress her?

She decided to throw out a little test.

“But now the mystery is out. Unless . . . I can trust you to keep my secret safe?” she asked in a deliberately flirtatious tone.

Scott instantly took the bait. “Absolutely.” He grinned at her, all boyish charm. “On one condition: that you tell me all about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” Taylor shrugged innocently. Damn, it felt good to be flirting. The hell with cheating fiancés and ex-wedding nights and brilliant blue-eyed Sexiest Men Alive going on sex romps to wine country with their gorgeous blonde toothpick costars.

“Well, for starters, how long have you and Jason been seeing each other?”

Taylor scoffed at this. Perhaps a little too vehemently.

“We’re not dating,” she said definitively. “Jason and I are just . . . business associates.”

Scott looked deep into her eyes, taking another step closer. “Are you sure about that?”

Taylor nodded. “I’m positive.”

He grinned.

“Then maybe, Mystery Woman, you should start by telling me your name.”

LATER THAT NIGHT, after the last of the party guests had straggled out, Jason fell asleep thinking about how perfectly the evening had gone. He pushed aside all of Jeremy’s annoying negativity: So what if he had to trick Taylor into admitting her feelings? In the long run, none of that would matter.

After letting Taylor stew for a day or two, he would put into effect the second half of his plan: he would sweep in, assure her that Naomi meant nothing to him, that she was the only woman he thought about. And Taylor, in turn, having already implicitly admitted her feelings with the jealous look, would have to concede her loss and have no reason not to explicitly admit her feelings as well.

But despite the fact that everything was smoothly falling into place, Jason had a terrible dream that night.