Table Of ContentSUSAN KEARNEY
Bordering on Obsession
TORONTO • NEW YORK • LONDON
AMSTERDAM • PARIS • SYDNEY • HAMBURG
STOCKHOLM • ATHENS • TOKYO • MILAN • MADRID
PRAGUE • WARSAW • BUDAPEST • AUCKLAND
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Epilogue
Chapter 1
“‘You’re obsessed with me,”’ he said, looking up from the script in his
hand.
Yes, I am. More than you know.
But Maggie Miller suppressed the thought, and instead dutifully recited her
line. “‘And you can read my mind.’” She kept her eyes lowered to the bound
pages on her desk so that her boss, legendary movie writer-director-producer
Quinn Scott, wouldn’t read more in her expression than she wanted him to see.
Like the fact that she found Quinn’s mouth more tempting than a hot fudge
sundae with whipped cream and a lush cherry on top. Like the fact that her heart
battered her ribs like a sledgehammer. Or that if she hadn’t been sitting behind
her desk, her legs might not have supported her.
It was all Quinn’s fault for providing a show she couldn’t ignore. In his
excitement over the script, he may have forgotten he’d been on the way to his
shower, but she hadn’t. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and, bare from the
waist up, his shoulders and chest glistened with moisture. His angular frame
made her mouth water as he strode into the office after his daily workout. A
script in his hand, a white towel around his neck and yards of bronzed skin
beckoning, he could have been half Greek statue and half movie star.
Totally yummy. And off-limits. Maggie Miller wasn’t some newbie
secretary enamored by just any man. Oh, no. She’d been working herself up into
a lusty lather over her oh-so-handsome, oh-so-sexy boss for a good four years
now. Playing the good administrative assistant, she’d tried to keep her tongue
from hanging out of her mouth, but, damn it, when Quinn asked her to read hot
lines from his latest script, the fantasy seemed too real.
It was bad enough that Maggie dreamed of him all night and woke up with
thoughts of him every morning, but reading love lines back to him bordered on
insanity. Especially when Quinn didn’t have the slightest idea of Maggie’s
feelings.
Unfortunately for her, Quinn regularly dated voluptuous blondes,
international beauty queens and Hollywood’s leading ladies—not the efficient
secretary he’d inherited from the man he’d replaced.
Maggie drummed her fingers on her desk. Quinn would never suspect her
feelings because he never even really looked at her. How could he when she hid
the real Maggie behind her businesslike clothes? To keep her position as Quinn’s
oh-so-capable assistant, Maggie had buried her real self. Well, she was done
watching Quinn go from one lucky woman to another.
Quinn’s cell phone rang before he could read his next line. He checked
caller ID, and tossed his script onto Maggie’s desk. “We’ll finish reading the
scene later. I need to take this call.” Then he disappeared into his office.
Maggie stacked the scripts on top of a towering pile and sighed. Doing
something, anything, to get over her uncontrollable preoccupation with the man
had become not only necessary, but absolutely imperative. However, since her
goal of becoming a casting agent might very well depend on Quinn’s goodwill,
she didn’t want to risk their working relationship by making a move in his
direction.
And after this morning’s phone call, Maggie had the chance to lure her boss
into bed. Maggie had answered the phone to hear Laine Lamonde’s harried agent
explain, “Laine’s jet had engine trouble. She’s landed safely in London, but I’m
afraid she won’t cross the Atlantic in time for her date with Mr. Scott.”
Of course the French film star wouldn’t be caught dead traveling on a
commercial airline. And since Laine was stuck in London, Maggie had the
opportunity to take the actress’s place—if she dared to seize the moment.
Maggie wanted much more than to arrange Quinn’s day—now she intended
to rearrange his night. She wanted her turn. Just one luscious night. A wild fling.
This time, instead of some vapid starlet, Quinn was going to escort the
woman he depended on to keep his extraordinary life in perfect working order. If
Maggie’s plan succeeded, and her plans usually did, Quinn would never know
his secretary had taken Laine’s place for the evening’s masquerade party. She
would get her night of passion—and without risking the loss of her job, her
future as a casting agent, or the friendly rapport she shared with her brilliant
boss. With Laine’s cancellation, Maggie had a doozy of an opportunity. And she
intended to make the most of it.
“Knock. Knock.”
Maggie looked up from her desk to see Kimberly Hayward, Quinn’s protégé
and Maggie’s friend walking into her office, carrying spools of film under her
right arm and the dress that she had picked up from Laine’s hotel room in her
left. Acting like a thief afraid of being caught, instead of Quinn’s favorite
production assistant, Kimberly glanced right, left, and back over her shoulder.
She even checked Quinn’s closed office door, before holding up the dress and
whispering, “What do you think?”
Maggie had no trouble imagining herself dressed in the cerulean satin
strapless gown with bead-encrusted bodice, and despite the butterflies swarming
in her stomach, she grinned. “It’s perfect.”
Kimberly reached into her pocket and handed her an envelope with a receipt
attached. “The concierge signed for these babies then sent them up to Laine’s
hotel room.”
With her hand only trembling slightly, Maggie opened the envelope. A
sapphire-and-diamond necklace with matching dangling earrings poured into her
hand. “Nice.”
“If you’re still going through with your plan—”
“Of course I am.” The image of wearing that dress for Quinn excited her
almost as much as the idea of taking it off for him. She’d never been an
exhibitionist, but now…her lust for Quinn was causing her nipples to harden and
stand out enough that she wrapped a sweater around her shoulders and let the
sleeves dangle down to conceal her arousal.
“You’ll need this, too.” From her leather bag that hung from a thin shoulder
strap, Kimberly pulled out a mask that matched the gown and that would cover
the wearer’s face from eyebrow to upper lip.
A thrill of anticipation chased away most of Maggie’s lingering doubts.
Never mind that Quinn had never noticed her body. Never mind that in the last
four years he’d never once so much as flirted with her. With the mask and the
dress to hide Maggie’s identity, she could be her real self. Slightly breathless at
the boldness of her plan, Maggie stroked the blue feathers along the edges.
“Thanks. I couldn’t pull off my little deception without your help.”
Kimberly had even taken the gown to wardrobe for a refit, and she’d
requested a studio limo to take Maggie to her hairdresser and makeup artist
before dropping her off at the hotel, where, disguised as Laine Lamonde, she
would meet Quinn.
Kimberly set down the film and carefully hid the dress in a white garment
bag, then hooked the hanger over the file cabinet handle. “You haven’t changed
your mind, have you?”
Maggie had a major case of the hots for her boss and she was tired of trying
to ignore it. Such a silly infatuation had never happened to her before. She had
no idea what the hell was wrong with her, but backing down was out of the
question.
She was fed up with sharing a bed with her cats. Tired of putting her
personal life on hold for the sake of her career. Tonight opportunity beckoned.
She had a chance to lure Quinn into bed.
But the slightest gesture or intonation could give her away and, despite her
determination, she hesitated. “What if Quinn figures out who I am?”
“He won’t. Don’t worry. You’ll have fun,” Kimberly urged her on.
Easy for Kimberly to say. She wasn’t the one taking the risk. Maggie was.
Yet at age thirty-two, Maggie needed a change from leading her smart, sensible
life, ruled by clothes that deemphasized her curves and a take-charge attitude
that scared away most men. While she was hardly the mousy librarian type, she
wasn’t the kind of woman who swished into a morning meeting with Jennifer
Aniston hair wearing a tight sweater and swinging a Prada handbag from a
diamond-Rolexed wrist, either. In other words, she was a professional assistant
valued for her efficiency and brains. Quinn would never consider her as a ready
and available woman—not unless Maggie took drastic action.
Since she didn’t do casual, no other man could be a substitute lover. No one
else captivated her like Quinn could, but he didn’t do serious. In the beginning,
she hadn’t even liked him—well not much. Of course, she loved his face—that
was a given—and nobody wore a suit like Quinn. And while she admired the
way he wheeled and dealed his way through Hollywood’s A-list, she wanted
some of his famous attention on her.
She sighed in frustration at her dilemma.
Trouble was, Maggie didn’t want to transform her entire life. Going after
Quinn as Maggie would put her beloved career in jeopardy as well as her future
plan to open her own casting agency. But as Laine? No risk—except one of
discovery, which she had covered.
Kimberly hitched her hip onto the corner of Maggie’s desk. She was even
more ambitious than Maggie. Kimberly wrote screenplays and wanted to direct
and produce. Like Maggie, she’d been off men for a while, putting her career
first and, while Maggie valued her advice, she knew all too well that Kimberly
was living vicariously through her.
“What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Kimberly prodded.
“If Quinn finds out what I’m doing, I could lose my job.”
“You want to open your own casting agency anyway.” Kimberly grinned.
“Besides, he’ll never suspect that his capable and practical secretary can show
him such a good time.”
Maggie tossed back her bangs and lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t yet have the
funds to open my own agency.” Twice Maggie had been close to saving enough
cash to start her own business. But then her sister Ronnie had had a difficult
third pregnancy and been forced to stay in bed in the hospital. Maggie had flown
Description:Just one night. That's all it will take to satisfy Maggie Miller's hunger for her boss, movie genius Quinn Scott. But how can she get him into her bed, when Quinn sees her only as his ever-efficient secretary? Then a masquerade party on his calendar gives her a wicked idea....A blue dress, a feather
