Read The Accidental Engagement Online

Authors: Maggie Dallen

The Accidental Engagement

Cover Copy

 

Oops…

It started as a regular night for New York City restaurant hostess Ivy Sinclair, until a rowdy customer turned out to be world famous playboy Jack Everett. Thanks to the paparazzi, now the world thinks they’re a couple—which couldn’t be farther from the truth. But when a brooding, sexy businessman offers her a simply irresistible proposition…

 

Uh oh…

Just when cutthroat venture capitalist Daniel Gladwell thought he’d never close the deal with an Italian conglomerate, a simple mistake becomes the perfect opportunity. All he has to do is convince Ivy to pretend to be Jack’s fiancée while on a business trip to Italy to offset Jack’s bad boy reputation. As long as Daniel doesn’t sabotage the plan by claiming the tempting waitress for himself…

 

Oh yes!

It was supposed to be a business only arrangement. But in the magic of the Tuscan countryside, neither Ivy nor Daniel can fight the attraction building between them. In the world’s most romantic setting, the line between business and pleasure is one that begs to be crossed…

 

 

Visit us at
www.kensingtonbooks.com

 

 

 

Books by Maggie Dallen

 

The Chance Series

The Accidental Engagement

The Accidental Boyfriend

The Accidental Elopement

 

Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation

 

 

 

The Accidental Engagement

A Chance Romance

 

Maggie Dallen

 

LYRICAL PRESS

Kensington Publishing Corp.

www.kensingtonbooks.com

 

 

Copyright

 

Lyrical Press books are published by

Kensington Publishing Corp. 119 West 40th Street New York, NY 10018

 

Copyright © 2015 by Maggie Dallen

 

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Lyrical Press and the L logo are trademarks of Kensington Publishing Corp.

 

First Electronic Edition: November 2015

eISBN-13: 978-1-60183-465-2

eISBN-10: 1-60183-465-9

 

First Print Edition: November 2015

ISBN-13: 978-1-60183-466-9

ISBN-10: 1-60183-466-7

 

Printed in the United States of America

 

Chapter 1

 

Ivy Sinclair thought she’d seen it all as a hostess at a hotel bar—but when a young man came running up to her with a look of panic before diving behind her hostess stand—well, now she’d really seen everything.

“Excuse me, can I help you?” she asked, looking down at the top of his head as he crouched beside her.

The young man barely looked at her. He was too busy peering around the edge of the stand toward the door. He muttered a curse as a large, brutish man wearing an intimidating scowl walked in.

“I’m not here,” the young man at her feet whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“Please,” he added. His eyes widened and filled with panic. Ivy couldn’t help but take pity.

The large man who looked ready to kill zeroed in on her. “Where is he?”

She swallowed a lump of fear at the aggressive tone. “Where is who?” Ivy tried to keep her voice innocent but it came out as a squeak.

She cleared her throat and tried again. “I’m afraid I don’t know to whom you’re referring.”

He leaned in closer and Ivy fought the impulse to run. “Where is Everett?” he growled.

Ivy stared down the oversized thug who was leaning over the hostess stand. She tried not to flinch even as his hot, rancid breath hit her square in the face.

“As I said before, sir, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Several guests had paused in the hotel lobby, en route to the restaurant to watch the drama unfold. The giant didn’t seem to mind the attention but this job was Ivy’s only source of income and she could repeat the manager’s lecture on courtesy and service verbatim. But above all else, her job was to be discreet.

Ivy had to believe that meant covering for the well-dressed, albeit rumpled young man who was currently crouching behind the hostess stand, uncomfortably close to her legs. She didn’t know what the hidden man had done but she couldn’t blame him for hiding from the heavyset giant who loomed over her—he looked like a man who was capable of causing serious pain.

And at this particular moment he looked like he would throttle her given the slightest provocation. Ivy was a good foot shorter than the brute, with a petite frame—not exactly an even match. She tried to keep her voice soft but stern—the same tone she used to cajole Otis, her parents’ German Shepherd, into his cage when it was time to visit the vet.

“I don’t know what this Mr.—uh—”

“Everett. Jack Everett,” the man sneered.

The name caused even more passersby to stop in their tracks.
Why did that name sound familiar?

“I don’t know what Mr. Everett has done, but I assure you I have not seen the man you described come into this restaurant.”

His frown deepened into a menacing glare and she added, “If Mr. Everett comes looking for you, I’d be happy to pass along a message, Mr.—”

He leaned in even closer. “You tell Jack that if I see him with my wife again, he’s a dead man.”

Ivy’s hands clenched at her side. That was it. She couldn’t have people making death threats in her restaurant. She drew a deep breath and mustered her courage. “If you don’t leave immediately, I’m afraid I’ll be forced to call the police.”

The burly man slammed a fist against the podium. “Listen, lady, I’ll do whatever I—” His voice cut off abruptly when she snatched up the phone and started dialing, keeping eye contact all the while.

The man muttered a curse, shook his head, and backed toward the door. “You tell that little bastard I’m coming for him.”

When she was certain the man was gone from view, Ivy let out a deep breath and looked down at the young man.

“You are my hero,” he said with a grin.

Ivy rolled her eyes and reached out a hand to help him to his feet. “You’re Jack, I presume?”

The young man paused on his knees, a lock of floppy brown hair partially covering eyes that were filled with mischief.

“If I were you, I would get out of here quick, before he comes back,” she said.

He ignored her advice and grasped her hands in his. “I’m serious, I owe you my life. That guy was going to kill me.”

Ivy stifled a laugh at his melodramatic tone. He looked to be around the same age as her—most likely in his late twenties—but everything from his laughing eyes to his mussed hair said he was a little boy in a grown man’s body.

“In case you didn’t hear, that nice gentleman would prefer that you stay away from his wife. I hope you take his advice,” she added, allowing honesty to outweigh discretion for a moment.

His look was sheepish and he gave her an adorable lopsided grin but he made no attempt to deny the accusations. The man had the face of a movie star and clearly the charm and confidence to go with it. She shouldn’t be surprised that he was a ladies’ man. Working in a hotel restaurant she’d witnessed more than her fair share of adulterous rendezvous. She’d thought she was worldly-wise when she’d first started working at the hotel. She was no longer fresh off the bus from her tiny hometown in Ohio, but she’d still been shocked by the constant and casual affairs. Now, after two years in one of New York’s swankiest hotels her scandalized disgust had given way to weary disapproval.

The young man was still on his knees and resisted her insistent tug. She was horrified to realize that the crowd of people who’d gathered to witness the earlier scene were now watching
her
—with more than a little amusement. Heat flooded her cheeks and she dipped her head. “Please stand up,” she muttered.

He flashed her a wicked grin. “Not until you accept my sincere gratitude—”

“Fine, you’re welcome. Now stand up, please.”

“And tell me how I can repay you,” he finished.

“You can repay me by standing up.” Whether it was her pleading tone or the red cheeks, he did stand up—and planted a sloppy kiss on her lips.

Sputtering with surprise and embarrassment, she pushed him away and turned her face from the people who were now laughing and clapping. Ivy ducked her head, trying to hide her flaming cheeks behind a curtain of hair. She grabbed Jack by the hand and dragged him into the hallway leading to the restrooms, away from the prying eyes of strangers. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Sorry,” he drawled. “I just wanted to say thank you.” His eyes were wide with innocence but the unapologetic grin told her that he found her distress entertaining.

“You’ve said it,” Ivy said with a scowl. She tugged her hand out of his and crossed her arms into her chest.

His lips twitched in what she assumed was a valiant attempt to keep from laughing. “Do you know who I am?”

Ivy blinked at the sudden turn in conversation. “According to your friend who was just here, I’d assume you’re Jack Everett.”

He crossed his arms and leaned back, his eyes searching her face, waiting for something—some sort of recognition, no doubt. The hotel where she worked was one of the most exclusive in the city; nearly every guest thought they were famous as well as rich. They were almost always wrong.

“Should that mean something to me?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said with a laugh. “Nothing at all. So now that we’ve established my name, why don’t you tell me yours?”

“Ivy Sinclair.”

“As in poison ivy?”

“As in The Holly and the Ivy.” At his raised eyebrow, she explained. “My mom has a thing for Christmas.”

“Don’t tell me you have a sister named Holly,” he teased. She gave a sheepish shrug and he burst out laughing.

He gave a jaunty salute as he walked back toward the hotel lobby. “Thank you for saving my life, Ivy Sinclair. I’ll be in touch.”

* * * *

Word had spread quickly in the hotel and less than twenty minutes after Jack left, Ivy had been summoned to the manager’s office. Franklin Webster was known for being a tough boss but he kept his mouth shut through the entire tale, giving her a chance to fully explain her side of the story.

Ivy cleared her throat and forced herself to continue despite Franklin’s intimidating frown. “So you see, sir, I really didn’t intend to cause such a scene. I was trying my best to keep the situation under wraps. But this young man…well, I’m afraid he was a bit of a ham and he sort of made me—er,
us
—the center of attention.”

When she’d finished explaining, he took his time polishing his glasses and made a show of straightening his tie. Ivy tried not to squirm in her seat. Every time she was called into Franklin’s office she couldn’t help but feel like she’d been called in to see the principal. More nerve-wracking since the only times she was called on to speak to the principal were when her sister Holly was in trouble.

“Ivy, do you have any idea who Jack Everett is?”

Ivy’s eyes widened in surprise. “Uh, no sir.”

Franklin sighed. He handed her a copy of one of the tabloids that were sold in the hotel’s gift shop.

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