Page 29 of Miss Christmas

That should have buoyed her confidence, but she knew a few things they didn’t. Namely Will Regal and his irresistible dick. It would have been a big plus for anyone else, but not Scarlet and her damn standards. She knew where to draw the line and it was on the safe side of the casting couch—or pageant couch. Damn. What the hell had she been thinking to have a fling with a Regal?

It was stupid on so many levels. He was a snob through and through and she wasn’t in the mood to play the hooker in Pretty Woman to win him over. Neither did she have the mindset to play Cinderella to his Prince Charming.

Worst of all, she did not want to poison her chances to win this pageant—or anything else—on her own terms.

Well, maybe not worst of all. Absolutely worst of all, she didn’t want to feel that connection to him that she felt tugging her when she was at her most vulnerable. Like that morning when she’d gotten yet another audition rejection. A real relationship with him would be a nuclear-level distraction from her career. Exactly what she didn’t need.

Answering the reporters’ basic questions with as much wit as she could muster had been easy, but they mostly wanted to take photos rather than hear about her story. That was fine with her. She noticed the other women clustered in groups of two or three and that she was the only one standing on her own. Fitting. She would be fine. She had her family and a few good genuine friends like Dee. And Laura back home.

Food and drinks were still being served even as the press began departing. Most of the contestants coalesced into a larger group. Scarlet found herself standing apart except for one other contestant. She sauntered over to the younger woman and stood shoulder to almost shoulder with Emily Peters. Emily was shorter and younger than she was, but she smiled up prettily.

“I thought your introduction was funny, Scarlet. You have such charm.” Emily put her hand out and Scarlet took it.

“You ought to see me slinging the menus and evading the old men over at the diner. Very charming.” Though they were from opposite ends of the universe, Scarlet felt a connection to her. Then it hit her that Emily was from the same place Will Regal was from. Same New York City high society background.

“You’re very gracious. I know Wellesley isn’t a finishing school, but you’re very finished in spite of that.”

Emily laughed. “Thank you, I think.” She looked past Scarlet with an undisguised blush of anticipation. Scarlet didn’t need to turn around to know Will was now in the room. Her mind immediately landed on the fact that he’d interviewed every one of these women and The Bachelor-esque similarities hit her.

“Hello, Emily,” Will said. He came to stand next to her and she turned to look at him. “Scarlet,” he said, his voice tinged with sensual undertones. Or she could have been imagining that.

Scarlet nodded in acknowledgment.

“I’d like you both to meet my cousin, George Regal.” Will indicated the handsome thirty-something man accompanying him. George wasn’t as big as Will, but he had that imposing Regal presence in spades.

“He needs no introduction,” Emily said, offering her hand. Scarlet settled for another nod. Forcing herself to set aside her discomfort, she pushed her shoulders back and her breasts forward to fortify herself. No apologies. It wasn’t lost on her that Will had sought Emily out rather than her, or so it seemed. Maybe he was trying to play it cool, but she hadn’t pegged him as this good an actor. He stood between the two of them, so it could all be an innocent happenstance that he’d addressed Emily first and seemed to be dwelling on her.

Tilting his head in Scarlet’s direction and sniffing, he spoke to her in an attempted stage whisper. “Do I smell bacon?”

“Of course you do,” she said aloud. George’s eyebrows went up. Emily’s eyes went round. “It’s my new perfume. Eau de Luncheonette of Love. Like it?”

Will laughed full-out. He started to lift his arm to put it around her shoulders, but then let it drop awkwardly at his side instead. Maybe it was the deadly do-it-and-I’ll-slap-you glare she’d given him that stopped him.

George laughed too, genuine and warm. Emily gave a hesitant smile, looking unsure, like none of this computed, like she’d never been to a luncheonette and maybe didn’t even know what a luncheonette was.

“You’ve met my wife, Margo,” George said. “How did she hold up? I don’t see her here.”

“I’d say she’s probably in the ladies’ room, if I had to take a guess,” Scarlet said.

George grinned. “I bet you’re right. She’s spending a lot of time there lately.”

Emily looked confused again, so Scarlet enlightened her in a real stage whisper.

“She’s pregnant. Her bladder is squished to a tiny fraction of its former self.”

“Oh.” Emily blushed prettily. “I should have guessed that.” There was enough real self-mockery in her words to save her from seeming silly. In fact, Emily’s ignorance made her all the more charming. And damn if Will didn’t give Emily a locked-and-loaded-with-charm smile.

It shouldn’t matter a whit to Scarlet. She didn’t need the distraction of Will Regal in her life. But that didn’t mean she wanted to see him give a flirty smile to another woman right in front of her two days after the kind of night they’d shared. Because she damn well didn’t. She was enough of a girl to admit it. Maybe that’s why she found her arm reaching out to him at that moment.

* * *

When Scarlet slipped her arm through his, Will stiffened with tension and excitement at the same time. Her touch had too much power. And it was damn addictive. But he needed to focus on Emily. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable or confused about where she stood with him.

Wherever the hell that was. It all depended on where the hell he stood with Scarlet, and though he should be well off that fence of indecision where she was concerned, he didn’t have it in him to rebuff her. Or to ignore her. Or to not want to see her again.

In his bed. Naked.

Emily’s smile wavered. George cleared his throat.