his brother’s help in finding Sarah in the chaos following the train accident.
Robert strode into the kitchen, stopping to buss his mother’s cheek. “Hello, Mum. Sarah.” He nodded briefly, then walked over to Alex and handed him a stack of newspapers. “Have you seen these?”
Alex tensed for a fight. “No. Remember, I don’t read them.”
“Well, you and Sarah are a hot item. I just thought you should know so you can take precautions for Sarah’s sake.”
Alex frowned. He had no idea what the articles said, but this was not the attitude he’d expected from his brother.
Sarah glanced at Alex, her face confused and wary. He opened his arm to her, and she joined him at the table.
“Sarah and I can handle it. But thank you for the warning.”
Emma appeared just as confused by Robert’s calm demeanor and apparent concern for Sarah, as Alex and Sarah were.
“How about a beer, Alex?” Robert walked over to the refrigerator, and without waiting for a reply, pulled out three beers, offering one to Sarah.
Sarah and Alex took what amounted to the proverbial olive branch from Robert.
Emma looked at her two sons, and then at Sarah. She didn’t know if Sarah had precipitated this change, but she was pleased to see her boys getting along for a change.
Tabloid newspapers, courtesy of Robert, were scattered around Sarah on the bed. She couldn’t believe what they said. Privacy was a thing of the past, and anyone who thinks their private life is private needs to wake-up to reality. Alex was right. Once they got their teeth in a story, they didn’t let go. Now she was shacking up with him.
Shacking up? Is American author Sarah Edwards living with Alex Fraser, Lord Rutherford? Edwards, who was one of those injured on the tube in last week’s accident has reportedly been staying with Fraser in his London flat. I don’t know about you, ladies, but I’d love to play doctor with the charming, sexy Fraser.
In another column, her time last year with Alex was revisited, as well as the fact that he was her inspiration for Christen:
The Gossipmonger has just learned that the Fraser/Edwards romance may have bloomed long before their meeting on the set. A source has come forward stating that she saw Fraser skulking out of a popular Oxford inn in the wee hours of the morning last August. We have it on good authority that Edwards was a guest at that very inn on the same date. Was she the mystery woman in the Port Meadow Picnic? I guess the cat’s out of the bag now.
There is also some speculation that Fraser was the inspiration for the hottie Christen Hare in the upcoming movie The American and the Aristocrat, based on Edwards’ book. Anyone who’s read the book can see that they’re a dead-ringer for one another? Hello? No wonder Fraser is perfect for the part! It was written for him. Sarah, you sly girl.
She shuddered to think what else would be written about them. Aside from the exaggerated first story, the others were all true, so it wasn’t like she or Alex could claim defamation. It was good that they were flying to Atlanta tomorrow. Maybe in their absence the papers would lose interest. Out of sight, out of mind.
“Why are you reading that rubbish?” Alex stood in the doorway wearing nothing but his shorts, leaning against the doorjamb with his arms folded across his bare chest, his hair damp from the shower.
Her righteous indignation over the gossip column fled, replaced by something infinitely more desirable. All she saw was him. He sauntered over to the bed. It had been too long. She wasn’t taking no for an answer tonight.
She tossed the tabloid aside then, rose to her knees on the bed in front of him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her silky nightgown the only barrier between them. He smelled of cinnamon and citrus, and his own unique male scent.
He gave her a questioning look.
“Do you know what tonight is?” At his confused expression, she said, “It’s been exactly two weeks since I came home from the hospital. Do you know what that means?”
“I’m sure you’re going to enlighten me.” He wore a provocative grin as he wrapped his arms around her waist drawing her closer.
She sighed with pleasure at the unyielding contact.
“I can return to . . . rigorous activity.” She pulled his lips down to hers, taking his bottom lip between her teeth.
“And what type of rigorous activity did you have