Runaway Attraction Page 5

  Bailey laughed. “It’s your scent.” She sniffed her wrist, where she’d dabbed the citrus, jasmine and patchouli perfume Brianna had created for the launch of her new clothing line.

  Brianna set her pencil on the desk and spun her stool around. “Okay, what’s going on with you?”

  Bailey’s throat closed up with panic as she waited for her sister to ask why she was holding clandestine meetings with a television personality, but Brianna didn’t mention anything. Apparently, Nick had kept his word. Whether he’d done so because she’d asked him to or because he was afraid he would get in trouble for allowing his charge to get away, Bailey wasn’t sure. She was just grateful that she didn’t have her entire family raining fury down on her head about how foolish it had been to sneak away.

  However, they would all find out soon enough. Which was why she needed her sister.

  “First, don’t be mad,” Bailey started.

  Brianna’s eyes closed. “What did you do?”

  “I met with Micah Jones today. You know, the guy who interviewed me a few months ago.”

  “I know who Micah Jones is,” Brianna said. “But why in heaven’s name are you meeting with him? Bailey, you need to steer clear of the press until all of this blows over.”

  “Do you really think this will all just blow over, Brianna? Be real. Weren’t you the one who said that the media isn’t going to back down?”

  “That doesn’t mean you should purposely walk into the lion’s den.”

  “I wouldn’t call him a lion,” Bailey argued. When Brianna’s eyes narrowed, she instantly realized it was the wrong thing to say. It was her sister, after all, who had mentioned noticing a spark between Micah and Bailey during the interview. She didn’t give Brianna a chance to bring it up.

  “Look,” Bailey continued, “that press conference revealed a lot of things—mainly that the press plans to pursue any story they can come up with regarding my disappearance. They are willing to say whatever they think will sell.”

  “So how does meeting with Micah Jones—who is media, I might add—change any of that?”

  Her sister was making the same arguments Bailey had made herself, but after speaking with Micah, she was no longer willing to lump him in with the rest of those reporters. He was different.

  And she needed an ally, someone in the media whom she could trust not to take advantage of her. Something in her gut told her she could trust Micah. All she had to do was convince her family.

  Oh, and fight off her skin-tingling attraction to him. Yeah, that would make things a lot easier.

  “I’m not naive enough to think that the rumors will go away,” Bailey told her sister. “But if I agree to give Micah exclusive access, I can reach the public in a more controlled way.”

  Brianna folded her arms, her brow forming an inquisitive peak. “What type of exclusive access are you thinking about giving him?”

  Bailey felt her face flush. “It’s not what you’re thinking, so don’t even go there.”

  “If you want to tell yourself that, be my guest. But you know that I can read you like a bedtime story, and I saw the way the two of you interacted during that interview. I’m pretty sure the only thing that prevented you from jumping him on his couch was the fact that Mom and Dad were watching.”

  “Brianna!” Embarrassment scorched her cheeks, but Bailey continued on. “He wants to do more than just an interview—he wants to shoot a documentary. I think this could be a really good thing, Brianna.”

  “It sounds to me as if you’ve already made up your mind.”

  “As if that matters. Every decision about my life these days is made by a committee. Daniel and Kyle both think the press conference was a disaster. And if Dad had his way, I would be locked in some safe house for the foreseeable future.”

  “Bailey, be reasonable. No one is intentionally trying to make your life a living hell. This is about your safety.” Brianna captured Bailey’s hands between her palms and rubbed them. “Do you know how terrifying it was when you went missing? For a while there, I would have voted for the safe house, too.”

  Not for the first time during this ordeal, Bailey felt like a sulky teenager. She had to remind herself to cut her family some slack. When she put herself in their shoes, she could understand their overprotectiveness.

  “I’m sorry,” she told her sister. “If this had happened to you, I would probably feel the same way.”

  Brianna wrapped her arm around Bailey’s shoulder and leaned her head against her temple. “I know the bodyguards and constant hovering aren’t ideal, but there is still someone out there who hurt you, Bailey.”

  As if she could forget. As if she didn’t wake up with night sweats, her body frozen in fear at the thought of the person who’d abducted her just waiting for the chance to finish what he’d started.

  But she refused to succumb to that fear any longer.

  “If I continue to stay hidden away like this, my kidnapper wins, Brianna. I can’t let him win.”

  Her sister’s understanding gaze pulled at Bailey’s heart.

  “I know,” she said, running a soothing hand down Bailey’s arm. “And he won’t. This will all be over soon. We have to believe that the police will get a break in the case, and we can finally put this to rest.”

  “And, in the meantime, maybe allowing Micah full access wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” Bailey said. “It wouldn’t be like a live interview where he could catch me in a trick question. I would be in control.”

  “That’s true.” Brianna slowly nodded. “So what’s my role in this?”

  “A united front would make it easier to convince Dad.”

  “Since when?” her sister asked. “You know once he makes up his mind even an act of Congress can’t change it. If he’s against this, nothing you, me or Micah Jones says will matter.”

  “I have to try,” Bailey said. “I’m going crazy just sitting around waiting for something good to happen. I want to make it happen.”

  “Well, I’m here for you if you need me.”

  “Thank you,” Bailey said, pulling her in for a hug.

  Brianna gave her a sad smile. “Good luck convincing the rest of the family to go along with this. You’ll need it.”

  Chapter 4

  Micah stood just outside the doors of the RHD studio. The heart and soul of the multimillion-dollar empire was housed in a five-story cast-iron building in SoHo, similar to many of the grand structures in the historic neighborhood.

  Micah hoisted his leather messenger bag more securely onto his shoulder and entered the building. A receptionist dressed casually in jeans and a sweater greeted him.

  “Micah Jones, here to meet with Bailey Hamilton,” he said.

  Several moments later, Micah was allowed to enter the inner sanctum of RHD.

  It was pretty much what he’d imagined a fashion studio to look like: a huge open space with yards of fabric draped across polished wooden tables. Headless mannequins stood in various states of undress, and caged light fixtures hung from the high ceilings.

  The mood, however, was nothing like he’d imagined. Micah had pictured high-strung designers frantically running around, yelling demands to their minions. Basically, the stuff he’d seen on television.

  Instead, the atmosphere was calm and relatively quiet. Several people worked at computer monitors. Most were wearing earphones, their heads bobbing to music.

  “Micah?”

  He turned at the cool voice that called his name. His breath hitched at the sight of Bailey. It was the same reaction he’d experienced yesterday when they’d met at the coffee shop. Hell, it was the same reaction he had whenever he just thought about her.

  She was ten times more beautiful in the flesh than she was on television and in magazines, with her high cheekbones and those ex
otic eyes. There was this sense of unpretentiousness about her in person that didn’t come through in photos, a realness that had struck Micah from the moment she’d walked onto the set of Connect.

  For the barest moment, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy of being more than just a professional acquaintance. God, what he wouldn’t give to be more than that to her.

  Her vivid eyes were glittering with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. “So are you sure you’re ready for this?”

  His brows arched. “You make it sound as if I should be afraid.”

  “Possibly. My dad is pretty good at keeping his cool, but Mom can turn into a grizzly bear when it comes to her kids.”

  He chuckled. “I’ve got myself an overprotective mama bear, too. Wouldn’t trade her for the world.”

  Bailey led him down a corridor and into an elevator. Micah stared up at the numbers as they ascended, feeling as if he was going to burst out of his skin. For several weeks after he’d first interviewed her, he’d wondered if his attraction to Bailey had really been as intense as he’d remembered. Standing beside her right now, breathing in her clean, delicate scent, Micah had all the proof he needed.

  Attraction didn’t even come close. There wasn’t a word in the English language that could fully describe what he felt toward this woman.

  Working on this project with her would be hell. Pure, unadulterated, lust-drenched hell.

  On the bright side, with all the cold showers in his future, at least his utility bill wouldn’t be much this winter.

  The elevator stopped on the fifth floor. They stepped out of the car and walked straight ahead to a set of double doors.

  He followed Bailey into her father’s office, which was smaller than Micah had anticipated. Although, to be honest, the unpretentiousness of the entire place surprised him. RHD was outstandingly successful, but their headquarters were impressively low-key. Micah took note.

  On the walls of the neat office were framed photographs of what he could only assume were RHD fashions through the years. Micah recognized a younger Lila Hamilton in the photo mounted directly above Roger Hamilton’s desk. She had been a knockout. Actually, she still was. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Good afternoon,” Micah greeted.

  “Good afternoon,” Roger Hamilton said. He came around the desk and shook Micah’s hand. Then he motioned to the sitting area on the other side of the office, which contained a love seat, two armchairs and a coffee table.

  “If you give us just a minute, my wife will be—”

  “I’m here,” Lila Hamilton said as she entered the office, closing the door behind her. She shook Micah’s hand and sat on the love seat. She patted the seat next to her, motioning for Bailey to join her.

  Micah sat in the armchair across from Roger, and they quickly got down to business.

  “What exactly is it that you’re looking to do with this documentary, Mr. Jones?” Lila Hamilton asked.

  “My goal is to show Bailey in her natural element, and also show how RHD has influenced her life. The overwhelming media attention she’s received in the past few months has proved that Bailey is in high demand. Her interview on Connect was one of the highest rated in the show’s history. People want to know about her.”

  “It seems as if people want to believe the very worst about Bailey,” Lila said.

  “Exactly. They don’t care about the truth,” Roger added. “That press conference only added fuel to the fire.”

  “The speculation won’t stop if we do nothing,” Bailey pointed out.

  “Bailey’s right. The only way to put a stop to these rumors is to face them head-on. What better way to do that than to show the world that Bailey isn’t what so many in the media are saying she is?”

  “And why would people believe what’s said in this documentary when they wouldn’t believe what she said during the press conference?”

  “It’s my job to make them believe it, and, pardon my language, but I’m damn good at my job,” Micah said. “My goal is to convince the public to believe what I discovered when I began my research before Bailey’s first appearance on Connect—that RHD really is a family business that has stayed true to its roots. It’s rare to see a family as interconnected as yours that still manages to stay on top of their game.”

  “So will the documentary be on Bailey, or Roger Hamilton Designs?” Lila Hamilton asked.

  “A little of both, but I want the main focus to be on Bailey for two reasons. First, in my view, this is a continuation of our interview. Second—and I mean no disrespect to anyone else in the family—Bailey is a fascinating subject. She’s the one everyone sees. The working title is Bailey Hamilton: The Face of a Franchise. There is a lot of pressure in that role, but from what I’ve gathered, your daughter has shouldered it with unbelievable grace, despite everything that she’s been through these past couple of months.”

  Micah chanced a look at Bailey. Her luminous eyes were focused on him, but unreadable. He forced himself to return his attention to Roger.

  “I want to film Bailey here at the studio, shopping, hanging out with her friends and, once she’s returned, on the runway.”

  “I don’t want Bailey mixed up in some sleazy reality-TV show,” Roger said.

  “No, no, no.” Micah held both palms up. “I have no intentions of exploiting your daughter. That’s a promise.”

  Roger tapped his lips with a capped ink pen. He turned to Bailey.

  “Are you really up for something like this?”

  “Absolutely.” Bailey straightened in her chair. “I need to get back to work, Dad. And just think about the good publicity this will bring to RHD.”

  “I’m not concerned about the business right now. I want to make sure you can handle someone intruding on your life, Bailey.”

  “I can handle it,” she said. “But I want Daniel to be part of it.”

  Micah whipped his head around. “What?”

  “I want my brother to be part of the production,” she said. “Daniel is in charge of RHD’s marketing. He’s a genius behind the camera.”

  So is any fool with a phone these days, Micah nearly blurted out.

  He shook his head. “I’m not sure about bringing an outsider into my team.”

  “If you want to shoot this documentary, you’ll figure out a way to make it happen.”

  She was resolute, and Micah had to admit her take-charge attitude was sexy as hell. Too bad he was completely against what she was proposing.

  “I would feel a lot better about Bailey participating if Daniel were there to protect her,” Lila said.

  “I don’t want Daniel there as a bodyguard,” Bailey told her mother. “I want him there because he is a creative genius and I value his input.” She turned to Micah. “So what will it be?”

  Damn it. This was a wrinkle he hadn’t anticipated.

  Not only was he not convinced that he could get the powers that be at WLNY to allow Daniel to come on board, but Micah wasn’t so sure he wanted him involved, either. This documentary was his ticket to that executive producer position. He didn’t want any asterisk in the mix, and giving up some control over production to Daniel Hamilton could turn into a really huge asterisk. This was his project.

  But if it meant not getting the exclusive on Bailey at all, it was a moot point. He would do whatever he had to do to secure her participation.

  “Okay,” he said. “I think we can make that happen.”

  Roger Hamilton looked pointedly at his daughter. “Are you sure you’re up for this, Bailey?”

  “If Daniel can be part of it, then yes,” she answered.

  There was a pregnant pause. Roger Hamilton looked from his wife to Bailey and then to Micah. Almost instantly the tension in the room ratcheted up several notches.

  Roger ble
w out a weary breath. “Well, if this documentary is really going to happen, I think Mr. Jones needs to know the entire story.” The man’s grave voice caused the hair to rise up on the back of Micah’s neck.

  “Story?” Micah glanced at Bailey’s mother. Stress lines had formed around her mouth. “What story?” he asked.

  Roger tossed the pen he’d been holding onto the coffee table and folded his hands in front of him. “No doubt you’ve heard the rumors that Bailey was found unconscious with a bag of cocaine during Fashion Week.”

  “It’s been all over the press ever since,” Micah pointed out.

  “The cocaine was not mine,” Bailey said. “Someone planted it on me. And I didn’t skip out on the RHD show.” She sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly before saying, “I was kidnapped.”

  Micah’s blood chilled in his veins. “How?” was the only word he managed to get out.

  “Someone grabbed me after my prerunway ritual. I’m still not completely sure how it all happened. Memories have been coming back to me in small doses.” She pulled in another breath and continued, her voice shakier than it had been just moments ago. “I remember doing my normal walk-through and then returning to the dressing room. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital.”

  Bone-aching fear seeped through him.

  “And no one—” Micah had to take a moment to clear the unease clogging his throat. “And no one saw anything?”

  Bailey shook her head. “I prefer to do my prerunway ritual when there’s no one there to disturb me.”

  He nodded. “I remember you talking about the routine during our interview.”

  The moment he said the words, fingers of dread scraped down Micah’s spine. He was the one who’d pressed her to talk about the special routine she performed before every fashion show.

  He’d practically handed her to her assailant on a silver platter.

  The lump of guilt that lodged in his throat made it hard for him to swallow. “Are there—” He coughed and tried again. “Are there any suspects?”