Natalie Anderson - Whose Bed Is It Anyway?

“You’re wearing my T-shirt.”

Returning home after a daring rescue mission, all James Wolfe can think of is sleep. So he’s furious to find a beautiful stranger curled up in his king-size bed! Normally no woman ever gets between his sheets without prior invitation—who does she think she is?

Disgraced celebrity Caitlin Moore has been offered a place to stay and she won’t give it up—not with the paparazzi outside, baying for her blood! Reluctantly she agrees to share the apartment with James—but, with enough electricity to short-circuit the whole of Manhattan, keeping to their own sides of the bed might prove impossible.…

‘So, you’re not here for …’ He broke off and almost looked uncomfortable. ‘Me.’

His lips thinned as he turned back to glare at her. She was used to full-on media ‘glare,’ but his dark-eyed look was just about the fiercest, most cutting scrutiny she’d had to withstand.

‘I’m—’

‘Sorry,’ she snapped. ‘The word you’re looking for is sorry.’

‘Tired,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m tired and I made a mistake. And I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here.’

She needed this bed.

‘Look.’ She abandoned all dignity and pride. ‘We can figure something out. I’ll take the floor.’

Rigid, his glare pierced deeper. It was a wonder her bones didn’t snap from the force emanating from him.

‘You are not sleeping on the floor.’

Implacable? Yeah—he had the whole stubborn attitude on.

‘Fine.’ She switched tack. ‘We’ll share’

Dear Reader,

There are very few people who aren’t entranced by twins. My twin daughters delight and amaze me every day, and when they were babies I was frequently stopped by people wanting to take a closer look. I feel so privileged to have them, and it’s fun to see how two people who can appear to be so alike are in reality so very different. That idea tied in nicely with another ‘perception and reality’ theme that intrigues me—how someone’s public persona can be very different from the private truth.

So when it came to planning this new trilogy, I thought it would be fun to create identical twin heroes and, to add an extra twist, give them a brother less than a year older. Can you imagine the chaos three boys so close in age could create? And then when they’re wickedly charming adults—who could resist?

James, George and Jack Wolfe are ambitious, arrogant, gorgeous. Raised to be risk takers, ultra-adventurous James is the one who endangers himself most—physically, at least. Going from disaster zone to disaster zone, he’s a bona fide hero. But, courageous as he may appear, the one thing he isn’t willing to risk is his heart.

I had so much fun putting the ultimate feisty threat in his way. Caitlin, a woman desperate to shake her bad-girl rep and escape her past, destroys James’s quest for emotional isolation.

Their private tease—and moments of truce—were such fun to write, I hope you laugh as much with them as I did. And be sure to keep an eye out for George’s and Jack’s stories to come in early 2014!

With very best wishes,

Natalie

Whose Bed Is It Anyway?

Natalie Anderson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

NATALIE ANDERSONadores a happy ending, which is why she always reads the back of a book first. Just to be sure. So you can be sure you’ve got a happy ending in your hands right now—because she promises nothing less. Along with happy endings, she loves peppermint-filled dark chocolate, pineapple juice and extremely long showers. Not to mention spending hours teasing her imaginary friends with dating dilemmas. She tends to torment them before eventually relenting and offering—you guessed it—a happy ending. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand, with her gorgeous husband and four fabulous children.

If, like her, you love a happy ending, be sure to come and say hi on Facebook, www.facebook.com/authornataliea, and on Twitter, @authornataliea, or her website/blog: www.natalie-anderson.com.

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For Sylvie and Evelyn, two pieces of pure delight in my life

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

Excerpt

ONE

New York, the city that never slept. James Wolfe never slept either—at least not in planes, trains or automobiles. And with back-to-back long-haul flights, horrendous delays and now traffic at a time when in any other city there wouldn’t be any, he’d gone more than forty hours without and was about to flip. Only a few more minutes and he could fall into bed. His bed—no hostel bunk, no hotel bed, no hastily built bivvy in a newly popped-up tent city. He couldn’t wait. He willed the traffic to part to let the taxi keep on moving. To take him home.

‘You been travelling?’

Given the cabbie had picked him up from the airport, this was obvious. But James automatically pulled on a smile. The guy had recognised him and James wasn’t about to burst bubbles by being rude. Uncomfortable as it was, public attention was now part of the deal. So he nodded and tried to speak. But the words wouldn’t come together in his strung-out mind.

‘Can’t talk about it, huh?’

James slowly shook his head.

‘You look beat.’ The cabbie didn’t seem to expect a reply to that.

Finally the car pulled up outside his apartment building. The cabbie offered to help James with his bag. Given all he had was a small carry-all it really wasn’t necessary. He managed the ‘no thanks’ with a smile. Then the guy wanted to give him the ride free of charge.

‘If you know who I am, you know I’m good for it.’ James pulled out a last burst of comprehensible speech along with the dollars from his wallet. ‘But you’re working the late shift. You probably need to get paid...’ His family probably needed him to.

The cabbie reluctantly nodded. ‘Any time you need to go anywhere...’ He took the cash and handed James his card. ‘Thanks, man. You’re—’

James widened his smile and got out of the cab before he could hear it. He didn’t want to be that good guy, that ‘hero’. All he was, at this point in time, was tired.

He waved a hand at the security guy, then took the elevator up to his floor. The wave of exhaustion rose right along with the floor numbers. Bone-deep relief hit as he quietly went into the condo and dropped his bag just inside the door. He didn’t bother switching the lights on, the dimness soothed his tired eyes. It took them only a moment to adjust, though there wasn’t anything to see anyway. The place had been stripped bare, ready to be completely refitted. He walked through the empty lounge, toeing off his boots as he went and unbuckling his belt and stepping out of his trousers. There was only one place he was headed and he was going straight there. He slowly hauled up the internal stairs, hoping his instructions had been carried out. That on the top level he’d find his bedroom and en-suite bathroom fully refitted, furnished, finished. Ready for occupation.