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Caught in the Spotlight (Hollywood 1)

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Fleeing before she had to stay in the same room with the woman who was her baby’s grandmother, Mia went straight to her spacious office overlooking the Olympic-size pool. The more time she could spend in here, alone, the better. Once she and Bronson had a plan, then she wouldn’t feel so jittery around Olivia.

Mia sat down and turned on her computer. On a sigh she glanced at the gold-framed photograph hanging above the chaise at the other end of her office. The timeless portrait had been made into posters and paintings for decades. A young, smiling Olivia with her glossy, dark, upswept hair and body-hugging gold dress as she posed with her first Oscar…which, according to the time line Mia now knew about, was almost two years after giving up Anthony in a secret, well-paid adoption.

Mia looked at this picture in a whole new light now. A hand slid around to her flat abdomen as she thought of the fear and worry Olivia must’ve experienced. Mia couldn’t even imagine giving up a child, but she knew Olivia must’ve had her reasons. What had changed in Olivia’s life from that adoption to four years later when she’d given birth to Bronson?

All Mia knew was Bronson and Victoria’s father had been Olivia’s one and only husband. Perhaps her career and relationship status combined, forced her into giving up Anthony.

Mia couldn’t help but wonder how Olivia had felt the second time she gave birth to a son. Having Bronson probably brought bittersweet memories.

Mia’s thoughts always drifted back to Bronson and that night in Cannes when he’d entered her suite. She should’ve told him no, considering what she knew regarding Anthony, but how could she when his mouth had taken over and his hands had started their journey up her dress?

Sometimes she thought of that night and it moved through her mind in a haze of slow motion, almost as if it was a dream. Making love all night. The soft, heated whispers in the dark. The kisses. Ah, the kisses had rendered her speechless. The man had captivated her.

They had an amazing night of sex with no promises and in the final days of the festival, they’d appeared together for the cameras. Simple, no complications.

And now she was pregnant. So much for keeping it simple.

She wished more than anything that she could keep her personal feelings out of this, but she couldn’t. Even though Bronson had said some hurtful things to her, she was still every bit as attracted to him as she’d been in Cannes. Perhaps if she could get that night out of her head, she’d be better off.

Except that’s all that consumed her thoughts. Her days, her nights. Bronson Dane and his smooth touches, his Prince Charming–like qualities.

“Mia, darling.”

Olivia’s buttery-smooth voice drifting from across the grand mahogany desk pulled her from the memories of Cannes back to the fact that her lover’s mother stood across from her.

“You’ve been staring at the screen for two minutes, and I said your name twice.” Olivia smiled, crossed her arms over her ivory pants suit and tilted her head. “Would you like to talk about whatever it is that has your mind elsewhere?”

Mia closed her eyes, wishing Bronson would stay out of her head so she could work. “I’m sorry, Olivia.”

The Grand Dane slid off her diamond-studded reading glasses and smiled. “My dear, you have nothing to be sorry about. Now, let’s talk. What’s bothering you, darling?”

Mia sighed, acknowledging that this woman was relentless in getting what she wanted. She’d given birth to three very successful children, raised two and didn’t get to the top of her game by not reading other people.

Mia could talk about some things, but not the main thing.

How did she start?

“You think I don’t recognize the signs?”

Mia froze. “Olivia—”

The starlet smiled. “I know when a woman is infatuated with a man. Especially when that man is my son.”

Mia breathed a sigh of relief and came to her feet. “I’m not infatuated with Bronson. I’m just…” Having his baby.

“Mia, honey, I know you don’t have people in your life. I know you grew up under extreme circumstances, which makes me all the more proud of how you’ve excelled.” Olivia rested her hands, palms down, on the glossy desktop. “I was young once and I know all about matters of the heart. So, believe me when I say I’ve been where you are.”

If only she knew how true that statement was.

Olivia had been where Mia was now. Pregnant, unwed, in a very promising career. God, how Mia wished this weren’t Bronson’s mother. She’d love nothing more than to confide in Olivia, to seek advice from someone who’d been in her shoes.

Mia went to the floor-to-ceiling windows and blew out a breath as she looked down to the lavish gardens and pool below. “And where am I?”

The question had been turning over and over in her mind since her world came to a crashing halt Saturday morning in her doctor’s office.

“Only you can answer that,” Olivia said, coming to stand beside her. “And if you can’t, perhaps you should be talking to Bronson so you can get your mind back on work.”

Okay, hard to take advice from a woman who didn’t know all the facts. But she was right. Mia did need to talk to Bronson again. Why hadn’t he called? Was he still convinced this baby wasn’t his? Wouldn’t he feel like an ass when he discovered she’d been telling the truth?

A gentle arm wrapped around Mia’s shoulders, reminding her of how much she missed having her own mother in her life. “My darling, I can tell when another woman is at war within herself. I just want you to find some peace. And feel free to talk to me, not as your employer, not as Bronson’s mother, but as a friend.”

Mia looked back at their reflection in the window as tears pricked her eyes. Stupid hormones. As if the thought of having a loving family of her own weren’t always on her mind, now she was coming to love the Danes a little too much. They were all seeping into her heart and she feared—no, she knew—she would end up hurt.

“I do think of you as a friend, Olivia.” Mia turned, smiling at her baby’s grandmother. “I have so few and I appreciate your taking time to give me advice.”

“Anytime, my love.” Olivia’s smile was replaced by a scowl. “Now, have you told Bronson how you feel? Men can be so dense at times.”

How she felt? Oh, no, this was not a conversation she was going to have. Honestly, Mia wasn’t entirely sure. She certainly had some kind of feelings for Bronson, but beyond that, she couldn’t say. Right now, whatever feelings she may or may not have weren’t the issue. This baby had to be first and foremost on her mind.

Before she could answer, a wave of nausea overwhelmed her. Mia swayed, holding a hand up to the glass to steady herself, but Olivia took hold of her hands.

“Mia?”

“I’m okay,” she assured Olivia. “I just got dizzy or something.”

She closed her eyes, willing the moment to pass. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

“Why don’t you sit down.” Olivia guided her to the leather desk chair. “You got awfully pale all of a sudden.”

Mia took a seat, thankful the room had stopped spinning. “Really, Olivia, I’m fine.”

Fine. Well, as fine as she could be, considering that the father of her baby had accused her of being a liar and having an affair with his illegitimate brother.

“Doing better now that you’re sitting down?”

As if getting off her feet would make her condition better.

“Yes,” Mia offered with a smile. “I’m sure I just need some juice or something. Why don’t we go back to your office and I’ll see what the cook put on the tray?”

“Perfect.” Olivia stepped back, allowing Mia to get to her feet. “You snack and get your strength back up so we can chat about why you’re hiding a pregnancy from me.”

Mia’s eyes darted to Olivia’s steely blue ones. “Olivia, I…” She wanted to lie, she really did, but she couldn’t. “I’m not hiding it. Honestly, I just found out myself.”

Olivia reached out and squeezed her hands. “I’m not going to pry, because I know this is a scary time, but please know that you can come to me and discuss anything. I want to be here for you.”

Mia couldn’t help the tears that sprang up like a leaky faucet. “Oh, Olivia, you don’t know how much I need someone to talk to.”

Olivia opened her arms and Mia sank into the woman’s embrace. How many times had she needed this—the love of an understanding woman? Just one hug shot straight to Mia’s heart.

“I assume the baby belongs to my son.” Olivia pulled back, meeting her eyes. “I saw how the two of you looked at each other in Cannes. The sparks practically singed everyone around you. Does he know?”

Mia nodded. “He does. We haven’t really had a chance to talk rationally. We’re both letting this sink in. And considering those rumors about me and Anthony, I’m not sure where I stand with Bronson.”

“Come to my office.” Olivia wrapped an arm around her shoulder and led her toward the hall. “You have a lot you need to get off your chest.”

Oh, she had no idea. But at least the pregnancy was out in the open. Too bad the forty-year-old baby secret was still locked up tight. Mia had a bad feeling that Olivia would push for something between her and Bronson. But Mia refused to be in a relationship out of obligation or pity. And no way would she be with Bronson just because he or anyone else said so.

Call her naive, but she was waiting for love. She would find love, and that man would accept Mia and her baby.

Seven

When Bronson had returned from his lunch meeting with his attorney—just to discuss his options if he was indeed the father of the baby—his assistant had informed him he had a call from Mia Spinelli, stating that he had to be at her place by six o’clock. No exceptions.

Another urgent message, this time from his mother, said she needed to see him tonight, as well. Again, no exceptions. Since when did he allow his life to be controlled by demanding women?

Obviously, the baby secret was no longer a secret. He was not ready to discuss this with his mother, not until he knew all the facts and where he stood.

Bronson had barely dropped his hand after knocking when the door to the cottage swung open. There stood Mia wearing another one of those simple little strapless cotton dresses. No matter that she looked amazing, he was certainly not in the mood. And considering the current circumstances, he’d better learn to control his hormones around this woman because he would not be forced deeper into her devious plan.

“Telling my mother about the baby is your new tactic?” he asked, barging past her into the house.

Mia spun around to face him, sending the door slamming behind her. “Did she tell you that?”

So, she really had told his mother. He was just guessing by the urgency of the phone calls. Dammit, he wasn’t ready for anyone to know, especially considering the last baby debacle.

“Actually, I haven’t talked to her. She called my office and demanded I come to the house tonight. I’m assuming that means she knows, and I sure as hell didn’t tell her.”

Bronson kept his hands on his hips, ready for another fight. This was his life, his reputation. There was no backing down, no letting Mia have the upper hand. And now more than ever he needed to keep his sights on her. No way would he allow her to destroy his family…or whatever the hell else her intentions were.

“Look, I didn’t call you here to argue.” Mia moved past him and led him through the thick white columns separating the foyer from the living area. “We need to sit down and discuss, like adults, what we’re going to do and what part you want to take in the life of our baby.”

Bronson remained standing when Mia took a seat in the wing-back chair. “Let me set a few things straight, Mia. My mother’s last assistant extorted nearly a million dollars from her before she was caught and imprisoned. And two years ago my ex-fiancée betrayed my trust. So you’re sorely mistaken if you think, even for a second, that I’m just going to believe you when you say the baby is mine. Scandal is nothing new in Hollywood, so don’t think you’re going to get away with the most popular form of entrapment known.”

Mia crossed those long, tanned legs. “If you’re finished, I’d like to say something, too.”

Bronson shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded, testing his willpower by keeping his eyes off those legs. “Fine.”

“My parents were killed when I was five. After several foster homes, I realized that the only way I would ever have a family was to grow up and have one of my own.”

Mia turned her head, but not before he saw the moisture gather in her eyes. He waited for her to turn back, fully engaged in a crying session in an attempt to gain his sympathy. But when she looked back up, the tears were still there, only unshed and Mia tilted her chin just a bit as if defying them. Damn, he didn’t want to respect her strength.



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