Scandal In The Spotlight: The Couple Behind the Headlines / Redemption of a Hollywood Starlet / The Price of Fame

‘So?’ she asked, sitting up and resolutely hauling herself back on the conversation.

‘I’m babysitting.’

Babysitting?

Imogen’s jaw dropped as she stared at him and she nearly fell off the stool. It was a good thing she’d just put her cup down otherwise there’d be shards of porcelain and coffee all over the floor. ‘Babysitting?’ she echoed.

‘That’s right.’

‘You?’

‘Me.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Totally.’ He paused, then tilted his head as he gauged her reaction. ‘You know,’ he added mildly, ‘your astonishment isn’t exactly flattering.’

Imogen pulled herself together and flashed him a quick smile. ‘Sorry, but I’m finding it a little difficult to get my head round the idea.’ Then she frowned as a disturbing thought crossed her mind. ‘Whose baby is it?’

‘Not mine, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

‘It wasn’t,’ she said with a speed that she suspected rather weakened that denial.

‘Yes, it was,’ he said, switching the oven on. ‘But don’t worry. I’m not that irresponsible. The baby belongs to that friend of mine, Luke, and Emily, his wife. Daisy’s my god-daughter and Anna is Emily’s sister.’

‘Who happens to know you sleep without anything on?’

Jack grinned. ‘Her notion of a joke, I imagine.’

‘She sounds hilarious.’

‘She has her moments.’

‘So how old is she?’ Imogen asked, still trying to come to terms with the fact that Jack had a god-daughter who he was babysitting tonight.

‘No idea. Late thirties, early forties, maybe.’

‘Ha-ha. Very funny. I meant Daisy.’

‘She’s three.’

‘Do you have much experience of babysitting three-year-old girls?’

‘None at all. This is my first time.’

Oh, dear. If the trauma she’d suffered as a result of running through all those possible explanations for Emily’s phone call hadn’t been so fresh in her mind, she’d have given him her sympathies. But it was, so instead she settled for what she hoped was an enigmatic smile. ‘Then in that case, good luck.’

‘Will I need it?’

All of a sudden he looked worried and Imogen grinned and resisted the temptation to reach out and pat his hand. ‘I’m sure it’ll be a walk in the park.’

Jack nodded. ‘That’s what I thought. I mean, she’s three. How hard can it be?’

If Daisy was anything like her niece, Jack was in for one hell of a weekend. The poor guy really had no idea what was about to hit him. And on top of such little sleep …

Nevertheless, at the thought of a man like Jack giving up his weekend, his Saturday night, to spend time with a little girl, something in the region of her chest melted and she let out a gentle sigh.

‘What?’ he asked, frowning at her.

‘Who’d have thought?’ she said dreamily.

‘Who’d have thought what?’

‘You’re a softie.’

Jack tensed and scowled. ‘No, I’m not. This is a one-off favour for friends who were desperate. That’s it. So don’t tell anyone, because just think what it would do to my reputation if it got out.’

She could imagine; he’d have even more women flocking to him than he did at the moment. Ignoring the jealousy that darted through her at the idea, Imogen took a sip of coffee and regarded him over the rim of the cup. ‘Doesn’t it bother you?’

‘What? My reputation?’

She nodded.

‘Not in the slightest,’ he said, evidently happier to be on different ground if the way his scowl cleared and his mouth curved into a grin was anything to go by. ‘Why would it when I’ve gone to such great lengths to cultivate it?’

Imogen’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You actively encourage it?’

Why on earth would he want to do that? Was he nuts? From what she’d heard his reputation wasn’t one to be particularly proud of, so why, when he had so much more going for him, would he want people to think otherwise?

The only answer she could come up with was that maybe he used it as some kind of shield, a defence mechanism of sorts. But that would imply he needed protection and what would he need protecting against? It didn’t make any sense.

However, there was little point in asking because it didn’t look as if she was going to get an answer. Not now, with the way his smile was vanishing and a frown was furrowing his brow. In fact, she had the feeling he hadn’t meant to let that slip, which only made it all the more intriguing.

‘You know,’ said Jack, moving round the breakfast bar to stand in front of her, his eyes glittering with such intent that Imogen’s heart began to hammer and all the questions that she’d wanted to ask evaporated, ‘I don’t have to leave for another couple of hours.’

‘A couple of hours?’ she breathed as he nudged her knees apart, then lifted her onto the counter.

‘At least.’ He eased her back and slipped his hands beneath her shirt. ‘So maybe you’d like to help me find a way to fill the time.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN (#ulink_01f372fd-65d7-557b-a081-f34d19d6d8b4)

BY the time the following evening came around Imogen, having spent the weekend drifting around in something of a deliciously achy daze, had come to a number of conclusions.

First, as she’d relived Friday night, it had occurred to her how short-changed she’d been by boyfriends over the years. She hadn’t exactly had loads of sex, but she’d had enough to realise that with hindsight she should have been a lot more assertive in the bedroom. And a lot pickier in her choice of the men who’d occasionally occupied it.

Secondly, she’d decided that now she’d experienced the mind-blowing variety with Jack she wanted more of it. Not the ‘for ever’ kind of more, of course, but certainly the ‘take it one day at a time’ kind of more, because as a way of banishing the loneliness that had been swamping her for so long it was unbeatable.

Unable to resist any longer, and becoming increasingly frustrated that she couldn’t seem to stop mooning over Friday night, she’d hauled her laptop out of the cupboard, fired it up and had settled down to find out as much about Jack as possible.