Celebrity Bachelor

Celebrity Bachelor
Victoria Pade

Time to go.

So why wasn’t Cassie moving? Why was she standing there, in front of Joshua, still looking up at that face that was striking even in the dimness of the night?

And why was he still standing there, too? Looking down at her with eyes that seemed to be memorizing her every feature?

It occurred to Cassie that even though they might not have made it to her doorstep, this was exactly what she’d pictured happening if they had. A good-night kiss felt like the next step. But that couldn’t happen. She was doing her job. And he wasn’t interested in her as anything more than a tour guide and to help maintain the role he was playing.

Yet there they were, still standing there, eyes on each other, and if he leaned only a tiny bit closer….

Celebrity Bachelor

Victoria Pade

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

VICTORIA PADE

is a native of Colorado, where she continues to live and work. Her passion—besides writing—is chocolate, which she indulges in frequently and in every form. She loves romance novels and romantic movies—the more lighthearted, the better—but she likes a good, juicy mystery now and then, too.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter One

“Cassie, I need to enlist you for special services.”

Cassie Walker had been called at home and asked to come immediately into the office of the dean of Northbridge College. It was eight o’clock on a Sunday evening and there had been urgency in the summons, two things that had aroused her curiosity.

“Okay,” she said tentatively, sitting somewhat stiffly in one of the two visitors’ chairs in front of the dean’s desk.

“I want you to know that I’m speaking on behalf of myself and Mayor McCullum, because this is a matter of interest to him and all of Northbridge.”

“Ah,” Cassie said, wondering what the dean could be possibly getting at.

“Are you familiar with Alyssa Johansen?” he asked then.

Northbridge College was a private school in the small Montana town of the same name. The total enrollment was a mere 237 students. Cassie had been an academic adviser and the coordinator of residential advisers for the dormitories since her graduation from the college with a master’s degree four years earlier. She wasn’t friendly with each and every student, but small colleges were like small towns—she was familiar with most of the names and faces.

“Alyssa Johansen,” she repeated. “She’s a freshman. Not from Northbridge.” Which was why the eighteen-year-old stuck out in Cassie’s mind. The school didn’t get many out-of-state students. “I’ve spoken to her a couple of times since the semester started. But I wouldn’t say I actually know her yet. It’s only been three weeks, though I know she hasn’t been in any trouble at her dorm.”

Cassie couldn’t imagine what about the pretty, vivacious, black-haired girl required the dean—on his own behalf and that of the mayor—to call her in on a Sunday evening.

“Alyssa Johansen isn’t really Alyssa Johansen,” Dean Reynolds revealed as if it were a state secret.

“Who is she?” Cassie asked.

“She’s Alyssa Cantrell.”

“Alyssa Cantrell,” Cassie parroted. “As in Joshua Cantrell?”

That wouldn’t have been her first guess had it not been for the dean’s emphasis on the name.

“Yes,” the dean confirmed.

No one who picked up a magazine or a newspaper or stood at a grocery store checkout where tabloids regularly splashed pictures and headlines could have avoided knowing who Joshua Cantrell was. He was the Donald Trump of tennis shoes: the Tennis Shoe Tycoon, as he was referred to.

“Alyssa is here as Alyssa Johansen to keep her identity secret so she can have some privacy and a normal college experience,” the dean explained. “There are only a handful of us who know who she really is. She’s Joshua Cantrell’s younger sister. His much younger sister. He raised her. And the press hound them mercilessly.”

The dean paused a moment for effect, then said, “There have been distractions arranged to keep reporters and photographers from realizing where Alyssa actually is—it’s very important to her and to her brother that her real identity and her presence here be kept strictly confidential. But, as you know, Parents’ Week begins tomorrow. Many out-of-town family members are actually arriving today or tonight.”

“Right,” Cassie said, fully aware of that fact.

“We had planned for Kirk Samson to do what I’m about to ask of you. After all, he’s head of fund-raising. But Kirk was cutting a branch off a tree in his yard late this afternoon when the ladder he was on tipped over. He fell to the ground and hurt his back. He had to be taken to the emergency room and be X-rayed, and his wife called us only an hour ago to say that he’s on pain medication and muscle relaxants and will be laid up at least the whole week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cassie said.