The Hollywood Showmance Chronicles

Book One




A KISS FOR THE CAMERAS




Purely Business. No hearts involved…

That’s how this public relations romance – a showmance – was described to best selling author Paige Mitchell. Dating Hollywood heartthrob Nate Mason is all for the publicity. He’ll hold her hand down the red carpet and in return she’ll let him star in the movie based on her book. It’s a win-win for both of them.

Nate is charming and sexy with perfectly polished cheekbones and a smooth as chocolate British accent. She’s an American soccer mom who has had less than good luck in the love department. They shouldn’t have anything in common except ambition.

The more time they spend together, the more Paige begins to see the man behind the spoiled movie star façade. In private, he’s a different person and things are starting to get very personal. It’s going to be difficult to remember…

They’re only kissing for the cameras.





CHAPTER ONE





Paige Mitchell needed a cup of coffee and a slice of lemon cake and she needed it right away. She’d spent the last hour of her life in a meeting with her agent Kris Hamilton and nothing had been good news. All her dreams were beginning to evaporate before her very eyes. She’d hoped she was close but it didn’t look like it was going to happen.

“We’ll get a couple of coffees and you’ll feel better,” Carrie Johnson said, patting Paige on the shoulder. Carrie handled the business side of Paige’s writing but most of all she was a friend.

“Lemon cake,” Paige sighed. “I want lemon cake too. Then at least this entire day won’t be a bust. I’ll have had sugar.”

“Lots of lemon cake,” Carrie laughed. “And lots of fancy coffee. No better way that I know of to make a day suck less. Why don’t you grab a table and I’ll order?”

There were a few empty ones near the back and Paige made a beeline for the cleanest, setting her purse on the empty chair beside her. She was checking the messages on her phone when the raised voices on the other side of the shop caught her attention. Sucking in a breath, her entire being was on high alert when she saw who it was.

Nate Mason. Movie star. Sex symbol. British Prince Charming.

The handsome actor was currently surrounded by fawning women – no surprise there – and was signing autographs and taking selfies with them. Laughing and smiling, he appeared to be quite at home with his adoring fans.

“Did you see who’s here?” Carrie loudly whispered, placing two plates of lemon cake on the table along with two large vanilla lattes. “It’s him. Flynn.”

Not even close.

“He’s not Flynn. Flynn is a character made up in my warped imagination and brought to life in a series of books. Nate Mason is an actual live human being.”

Settling in the chair across from her, Carrie studied the actor. “Are you sure? Because damn, he is fine looking. Almost too good to be true.”

He was an exceptionally good-looking man. A few inches over six feet, he was tall and lean but still muscular, with long arms and legs. His perfectly chiseled face had a firm jaw and impossibly high cheekbones along with clear blue eyes. All that gorgeousness was topped off with a mop of golden curls that lately he’d kept cut short on the sides.

“He’s real,” Paige affirmed, trying not to stare. “But he’s not Flynn. He’s too…something. And he’s not enough…something else.”

As a bestselling author for the last ten years, Paige had created too many characters to count but none had stuck with her like Flynn had. He was a hero with all the traits that went along with that role, and he was the lead male in her most successful book series. He was also the reason Hollywood had come knocking. There was great interest into turning her books into a feature film. Maybe several feature films.

Or there had been interest. After the meeting today with her agent it didn’t look like any movie was going to be made. Paige was a self-admitted control freak and she wanted to play a part in the making of the film – casting approval, director choice, and more. Kris had broken it to her today that her hopes were a pipe dream. She simply wasn’t a big enough celebrity to get that kind of control. Not enough clout, Kris has said. If only Paige were more famous. More in demand, then she’d have more bargaining power.

“Why don’t you go over there and get a picture with him?” Carrie suggested. “I heard that he loves to read. Maybe he’s read one of your books.”

The idea was horrifying.

“Heavens no,” Paige replied crisply. “I couldn’t just walk up to him and say hello. That’s crazy talk.”