The S Before Ex (Mills & Boon RIVA) - Softcover

Kelly, Mira Lyn

Softcover

ISBN 10: 0263883868 ISBN 13: 9780263883862

Publisher: Mills & Boon Riva, 2011

Synopsis

The only man with the X-Factor!
There's one thing even the tabloid hounds haven't managed to dig up about celebrity Ryan Brady: He is married!

He may be one of America's most desirable men - but his secret wife has just filed for divorce...

About this title

About the Author

MIRA LYN KELLY lives with her husband in rural Minnesota, where their four beautiful children provide an excess of action, adventure and entertainment. With writing as her passion and inspiration striking at the most unpredictable times, Mira can always be found with a notebook at the ready. (More than once the neighbors have caught her, covered in grass clippings, scribbling away atop the compost container!) Check out her website www.miralynkelly.com

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

"Oh, my God, isn't that your husband?"

Claire Brady stiffened at the urgent whisper. An instant before, she'd been basking in the afterglow of a deal that, now struck, concluded her business for the next week—mostly. The gallery was too much a part of who she was to ever truly be put aside, even for a single day. But in that moment, her phone had been quiet, her mind at peace, her senses drifting with the gentle breeze as she'd absorbed the bustle and beauty of Rome's Piazza Navona while light circles, courtesy of a dishy Italian seated to her right, stroked over her palm.

It felt good. She felt good. And she'd wondered if maybe this time...

Well, so much for that.

She shook her head apologetically at Paulo, the dishy Italian under consideration, and then shot Sally, her best friend, assistant and perpetual alarmist, an emphatic no.

She'd known sharing the secret of her ex would come back to bite her, but balanced against the isolation of holding herself apart for so many years, Sally's occasional false alarm was a price she'd been more than willing to pay. Still, this was the third "Ryan sighting" this month alone.

"The man lives in California. The United States. Besides, if he were traveling abroad, we'd already know it," she promised with a nod toward the newsstand at the corner of the piazza.

When all else failed, fell short or slipped away, there was one thing in her marriage to Ryan Brady that Claire could count on. And that was the media keeping her abreast of every sordid detail of his liaisons, financial conquests and daily adventures. No waiting by the door with a cocktail at five for her. She had the world news to tell her how his day had been and with whom he'd spent the night. And in this case, she had it on reliable authority that as of fifteen hours ago, Ryan Brady had been meeting with his lawyer in downtown L.A.

Sally's mouth pulled into a sideways twist that suggested she wasn't convinced. Her gaze darted between the newsstand and the fountain across the way. "Hmm. But this guy really looked like him."

Sure he did. "Like the homeless guy at the station looked like that actor...Gerard Bu—"

"Hey, he could have been in disguise."

"Eating out of a Dumpster?" Claire tried to stifle her laughter, but then simply gave herself over to it. At the stubborn jut of Sally's jaw, she pulled her in for a quick hug, earning herself a good-natured pinch in the process. "Ouch!"

"Hey, maybe he's a method actor or something."

Laughter subsiding, she grinned at her friend and conceded, "Maybe."

She sipped her espresso, enjoying the rich flavor rolling over her tongue, and set the shot-glass-size cup back on the paper-covered table.

Their trip couldn't be shaping up better. Getting away was good for both of them. Sally, because she needed more of a life outside the gallery than she'd allowed herself over the last year, and Claire.well, the timing had worked out providing a convenient excuse when she'd rather desperately needed one.

Claire cast a quick glance over her shoulder toward Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi where its Egyptian obelisk needled the washed-blue sky above—not so much looking for Ryan in the crush of milling tourists, as perhaps hoping to catch a glimpse of this stranger who resembled him. Though as quickly as the thought processed, she pushed it back.

Seated in the shadow of the church of Sant'Agnese in Agone, amid the splendor of baroque Roman sculpture and architecture, the last thing she should have been looking for was a man who reminded her of her estranged husband. It wasn't a healthy pastime. In fact, it fell only one rung below "looking for men who resembled Ryan and were toting babies with them" on the ladder of exceptionally bad and self-destructive ideas.

She'd moved on. Long ago. Really.

And yet she couldn't resist one last sweeping glance across the piazza. Chalk it up to morbid curiosity, but she wanted a look.

Her gaze tripped from one lacking male physique to another without need to stop—not one of them could even remotely pass for Ryan.

Good.

Sally's brow smoothed as she shrugged back into her chair, snuggling beneath the outstretched arm of her date, Massimo. "Okay, maybe I was wrong. I don't even see him now. Sorry."

"No problem," Claire assured with a dismissive wave.

Only, there was a problem. The damage had already been done. Whatever mood had been set mere moments before seemed to have evaporated beneath the reminder of a life Claire had put behind her. As if to illustrate the point, Paulo's seductive caress moved from her palm to the pulse point at her wrist.eliciting zero response. Not that he'd exactly had her enraptured before. But there'd been potential. Hope that this tall, dark, Roman stranger would spark something long dead within her to life.

Only now, the whole interaction—them seated beneath the open Italian sky, surrounded by the throngs of tourists populating Piazza Navona, with Paulo doing his best to seduce her across a small outdoor table while his friend did the same with Sally—it seemed so contrived.

Obviously of another opinion, Sally giggled and leaned over to Claire, her fingers cupped around her mouth as she whispered in her ear, "Since we've officially transitioned from gallery business to pleasure, do you mind if Massimo and I take off?"

Claire pulled back, searching her friend's eyes for any doubt and, finding none, gave a quick shake of her head.

Massimo stood behind her, straightening his jacket as he issued a few words to Paulo before stepping away from the table with Sally's hand secured in his. Sally laughed delightedly, and peered back, "You'll be okay?"

Claire's smile broadened in response. "Of course! Go, have fun."

At Sally and Massimo's retreat, Paulo's voice rolled across the table between them. "Ora bella, avete solo."

To any normal woman on the planet his pleasure at having her alone would have sounded like sin on a plate. A temptation too tasty to ignore. But then, Claire didn't exactly fit the norm. Not anymore.

Meeting his smoky gaze with the clarity of her own, she sighed and pulled out the smile reserved for situations such as this one. It was cool and remote. Subtly off-putting without being overtly hostile. Just enough for a suitor to recognize the futility of his efforts, without actually insulting him.

It was a time-tested dismissal that worked—except Paulo remained undeterred.

Well, she'd warned him. And honestly, the stroke of his thumb over her captive limb wasn't anything she couldn't ignore. Eventually he'd get the picture. And in the meantime, Claire had plenty to occupy her mind with the coup she'd just pulled off for the gallery. Faye Lansing had been a hunch. A bit of instinct and a lot of luck. The painting Claire discovered hanging on a bathroom wall—of all places!—in a client's home in Connecticut had been spectacular, leading her to track down the as-yet-undiscovered artist here in Rome. But that work had been nothing compared to what she'd seen at the studio this morning. Claire had scored Faye's first U.S. exhibit—and more than that, she'd secured her commitment to participate in the gallery's Young Artist Program as well. The kids were going to love her, and the way she spoke about her craft.it was pure passion.

She was so excited, and already sketching out a plan for an exhibit in the West Hall. With the interplay of light and color, that space would complement the work—

Suddenly Claire's attention snapped back to the present. To Paulo. And a touch that couldn't be ignored after all. What began at her palm had migrated to her wrist, and was now on the move again, stealthily advancing toward the crook of her elbow and, no doubt, beyond.

Distaste turned within her at the sight of his fingers slipping over skin numb to his appeal.

Hurt feelings or damaged pride weren't her intent, but if subtle didn't do the trick then she wouldn't be subtle. Resigned, she closed her eyes and braced for a blunt no-nonsense dismissal.

Only, in the next instant, the air around her changed. Charged with an electric current that rolled over her skin, bringing every fine hair and nerve to attention. Paulo's fingers stilled where they were, and Claire's eyes burst open as a strong, wide hand closed over her shoulder and smoothed into a possessive caress toward her neck.

"Hey, kitten. Remember me?"

Oh, God. Sally hadn't been wrong at all.

The air leaked from her chest in a groan, pushing the name poised at her lips free. "Ryan."

"Try to contain your excitement. You're making me blush." His gruff laugh, deep and darkly confident, sounded at her ear an instant before his lips brushed the tender skin beneath.

Claire jolted at the affront—definitely not from the tingling sensation skirting her skin—and instinctively grabbed for Paulo's hand as her defenses slapped up around her.

Where did he get off?

Twisting around in her chair—too uncertain of her legs' ability to support her to risk standing, she gasped, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm not letting you blow me off like you've been doing for the past nine years."

Claire's mouth dropped open, first from the aggressive edge to Ryan's words and then further as Paulo, taking her death grip as some kind of call to action, shot from his seat.

Oh, no. Not a good idea.

He might have Ryan matched in height, but something about the Italian's body told her his muscle was machine made. Gym buff. As opposed to Ryan's, which was all hard-hewn man. Rock climbing. Rugby. Water polo. Swimming, surfing, hockey and track. She'd seen the double-page spread of him in that magazine on men's fitness. And she remembered all to...

Edition details

• Publisher: Mills & Boon Riva
• Publication date: 2011
• Language: English
• ISBN 10: 0263883868
• ISBN 13: 9780263883862
• Binding: Paperback
• Number of pages: 272