No Stranger to Scandal - By Rachel Bailey Page 0,34

you?”

A trickle of unease seeped down his spine. He’d thought she’d turn her anger on him, not Lucy. Had he put Lucy in the line of fire?

Angelica must have seen something on his face that gave him away, because she smiled, satisfied.

“Don’t worry, darling, all the men do. It’s the princess act she’s perfected. But let me give you a friendly word of advice.” She paused, a devilish gleam in her eyes. “Your little crush is doing an investigation into you. Gathering material for an exposé that will air soon on ANS. I heard it directly from Graham Boyle last night.”

An icy hand crept over his heart and squeezed. Lucy had played him? Was working on an exposé when she’d told him she wanted to help his own investigation? No, he refused to believe she could be that manipulative. Although...how well did he really know her? Nausea roiled in his stomach, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. Maybe she was capable of planning this. And, if so, was her idea of a fling all part of the scheme?

Whatever was going on, he wasn’t sharing a thing with the woman in front of him. “I think it’s time you left, Angelica,” he said and strode over to the door.

“Sure.” She’d morphed again—this time into a sincere confidante. “When you’re ready to talk, let me know. I’m the one who can help you, remember that. And in the meantime,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and heading out the door, “don’t give that Royall actress anything you don’t want to see on prime-time news.”

Three minutes later, Hayden was in the rental car on his way to Lucy’s place. This morning’s visit might have been planned as a romantic liaison, but now they’d use the time for Lucy to give him some information. The truth would be a good place to start.

Seven

It was almost ten o’clock when Lucy saw Hayden’s car pull up. With butterflies in her belly, she looked down at her soft cream wraparound dress—easy to remove—which covered lacy lavender lingerie. The ensemble had seemed appropriate for the start of a fling, though she’d changed outfits twice already, and had been having second thoughts about this one for about ten minutes. If he hadn’t arrived now, she would have darted back upstairs and changed again.

Pulse jittery, she opened the door to him. “You’re late, Mr. Black,” she said in her best saucy voice, then registered his thunderous expression. Her heart skipped a beat. “What’s wrong?”

He pushed past her, strode into her living room, then turned to face her with hands low on his hips. “You’re doing an exposé on me?”

All the air rushed from her lungs. “How do you know?” she asked in a raspy whisper.

“Rules about secrecy, rules about a fling.” His coffee-brown eyes flashed fire. “One we forgot to add was a rule about not gathering material for an exposé while we were sleeping together.”

Her knees wobbled, but she stepped forward. “Hayden—”

Ignoring her attempt to explain, he walked across the room and leaned a hand over the window frame, looking down on the small courtyard at the back. “At least I was up-front about my investigation. You knew what I was doing from the start, and I told you I suspected Graham and that you were covering for him.” He swiveled to face her again, eyes narrowed. “Apparently I don’t deserve the same courtesy.”

“Okay, you’re angry,” she said, slowly crossing the room toward him. “I get that. And I’ll allow that you have a right to be.”

He coughed out an incredulous laugh. “Generous of you.”

“But your investigation could ruin a man’s life. An innocent man.” Her stepfather, who’d been nothing but kind and generous to her for ten years. “Graham could lose his company, his reputation, even his freedom. And there are people in ANS who would set him up to ensure that happens. You don’t think we’d have a plan B in this situation?”

“That Boyle and ANS would have a plan? Sure. That you’d be leading it?” He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze pinning her to the spot. “It’s a rotten way to treat a man you’re sleeping with, Lucy.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She sank down into the overstuffed sofa and pulled a cushion into her lap, suddenly bone-weary from all the different directions she was being pulled. “But you have to understand that when Graham asked me to do the piece, I’d only met you once. I didn’t know if I