Mark pulled into a spot in front of Allie’s building. There was a do not enter sign taped to the glass, but a man shoved the door open from the inside.

“Are you sure you can get back in?”

Allie checked her phone. “It’s after seven and they said we could return by six, so I’m sure it’s fine.”

Mark got out of the car and retrieved her suitcase from the trunk. Allie waited, the bag of fabric hanging over her forearm. He walked with her to the front doors, taking in the street. The neighborhood wasn’t the best, but the streets were clean. The rent was probably cheap and there were kids playing stickball half a block away. The Star Café down the street flashed a neon open sign in the window. That must be the place Allie waitressed.

Allie turned and leaned against the doorframe. “Selina should have the quilt done in a week or so. She’s going to be so excited to work with this fabric.”

“Do I have to wait that long to call you?” asked Mark. He took a step closer, and Allie had to tip her chin up to look in his eyes. She’d hardly made eye contact with him at lunch yesterday and now she held his gaze—he enjoyed the closeness.

“You can call me anytime.”

“How about tomorrow?” he pressed as he set her suitcase down next to the door.

“Um …” She glanced down at her hands.

“Too soon?” He cocked his head, studying her response. He wanted to leave, walk away like some suave guy in a movie. But he couldn’t bring himself to go.

“Not at all. I turn my phone off during church services.”

Mark leaned closer and slid his hand onto her hip. “Is it too soon to do this?”

“You already did that.” Allie swallowed. “When we were painting.”

“I did, didn’t I.” She wasn’t running scared and all her talk about how a kiss shouldn’t have happened seemed so far away. He didn’t want to push her, but he didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye like a man who was falling in love with a woman should. “Then what about this?” He searched for some sign that he’d crossed a line as he put both arms behind her back and pulled her body flush with his.

“It’s all good.” She gulped, her eyes dropping to his mouth.

Mark leaned down and pressed his lips to her cheek. “Too soon for that?”

Allie sighed. “I wouldn’t think so.” Her hands came to his chest, where his heart pounded like a bass drum at a heavy metal concert.

“Allie?” Her name came off his lips like a prayer. “I have one more question.”

“Hmm?” Her hands slid up his shoulders and found their way to the back of his head.

“Kiss me?”

“I think that would be okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Really okay.”

“Okay then.” He moved slow, savoring every sensation shooting just under and across his skin. The tantalizing tickle of her hair against his arm. The warmth of her skin brushing his. The gentile pressure of her fingertips on his neck. And finally, the supple taste of her lips. Her warm, delicious, and welcoming lips. His hand went to her cheek and he tipped her head to deepen the kiss. She moved with him, her body melding into his.

For the first time—perhaps in his entire life—Mark felt real. This moment, this kiss, was as real as it got in this world of public personas, photoshopped pictures, and stage lighting. Allie was the real deal and he knew he needed her in his life. She was the anchor he’d been searching for. Before he got carried away, he slowed the kiss, hating to bring their time together to an end but knowing that there was a deeper connection growing bonding them together.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Allie’s fingers went to her lips as if she couldn’t quite believe what had transpired between them. For Mark, the contact was so much more than an end-of-date kiss. It was a kiss that spoke of beginnings.

“Night.” He let his hands slide down her back as he pulled away, needing to touch her until the last possible second.

“Night.” Her eyes crinkled at the corners.

She stayed there and waved as Mark pulled away, and he had to force his concentration into driving. He coasted home, unable to get Allie out of his head.

Not that he tried. As far as he was concerned, today was the first day of the best part of his life.

* * *

Sunday morning Mark was awakened by his assistant’s ring tone. He grabbed the phone off his nightstand and pulled himself up on one elbow. He’d get to see Allie today even if he had to follow her to church. Smiling, he answered with a light, “I thought I told you to take the weekend off, Kate.”

“Google alerts are blowing up my phone.”

“About me?” Mark blinked.

“No, they’re excited about Black Friday deals in April. I’m sending you links.” She stayed on the line.

Mark barely had time to scrub his cheeks awake before his phone beeped again.

He clicked on the link, and images of him kissing Allie in front of her building filled his phone. He swiped through them, his anger growing, before he found the one of him pulling her out of the dive motel in her pajamas.

Curses!

“This is why I don’t take days off,” said Kate.

Mark groaned. “This is the local paper, right? Nothing too damaging.” He caught the headline: MYSTERY WOMAN SNEAKS OFF WITH HOLLYWOOD DO-GOOD, MARK DUBOIS.

Son of a biscuit.

“You’re being naive on purpose,” Kate reprimanded him. “Was Allie in on this?”

“No way.” Mark shoved the covers aside and searched for a pair of jeans.

“How did they get these shots of her in pajamas?”

“There were three guys outside the hotel when I picked her up. One of them must have recognized me.”

“It’s grainy—probably a cell phone picture.”

“Yeah.”

“Still, she could be working you. Paparazzi were waiting outside her apartment.”

“If she is, then she’s a better actor than I am.” Mark shoved his feet into the pants and buttoned them.

“Then who?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it was just dumb luck.”

“Ha! I’m going to do some digging. Lay low today, would you?”

“I have plans to see Allie. We’re going to go to church with Chloe.” Not that he’d told Allie that bit of information. He’d kind of just come up with the idea. But it sounded good to him.

“Geez.” There was a heavy pause while Kate worked over their options in her head.

Mark let her ponder the situation while he found a nice shirt and slipped into the crisp fabric. This is what he hired Kate for, and she was good at managing his image. Fake-dating Aspen was Kate’s idea, and their lack of drama had kept him under the radar for several years while Beau struggled to leave his house without being attacked by cameramen.

“Shoot—I should call Aspen and warn her.” Mark made a face. After spending the day with Allie, speaking with Aspen was like taffy that had been left in the sun—clingy and not at all appetizing.

“I already shot her an email when the first image came in. I’m supposed to meet with her agent for coffee.”

“Have I told you how wonderful you are?”

“I’d love to hear it again.”

“You’re amazing.”

“Yep. I’m going to write a press release to explain what really happened with the hotel. I’ll take the blame for that one. I still feel bad. You’ve got the annual dinner for Waters without Borders next week, and we don’t want all this drama to take away from that.”

“Got it,” replied Mark with a firm nod.

“Mark?”

“Yeah?” He grabbed his keys.

“You’re right about Allie—she’s not the type to stir this up.”

“No, she’s not.”

“You’ve got to help her—she’ll drown in all this.”

“I’m on my way to pick her up right now.”

“You can’t go there right now. I’m sure there’s press all over the place.”

Mark groaned. If he went charging in like a bull with a burr in its tail, he’d only feed the sharks. “What are we going to do?”

“Meet me at the office.”

“I’m saying it again—you’re wonderful.”

“Well, up until now, you’ve been an ideal boss. If you stir up much more trouble I may have to quit.”

“Empty threats.”

She laughed and they said goodbye.

The pictures were bad, a small scandal he could do without for Chloe’s sake, but nothing they couldn’t contain. Except that he really needed to not just seem stable, but really be that kind of a dad for his daughter. Was he putting his own desires before the welfare of his child? The thought plagued him as he drove through Atlanta towards Kate’s office. If this was going to blow over, he’d need to handle the press just right or the whole situation could blow up in his face. Not only would the paparazzi poison his relationship with Allie, they’d ensure that he never got full custody of his daughter.