Worth the Risk: A Contemporary Romance Bundle Read online

  Worth the Risk

  A Contemporary Romance Bundle

  Sometimes, only love is worth the risk.

  Five contemporary romances in one bundle!

  Three full-length novels and two novellas.

  Stumble into Love

  When Laila Alster hires klutzy LoveMatch escort Hal Kessler to pose as her fiance, it's not to impress her family. She plans an explosive breakup to convince them she's better off single. Hal enthusiastically tries to to act like the utter jerk Laila needs him to be. As Hal's fumbling feet lead them into mishap after misadventure, Laila finds herself stumbling along beside him...right into love.

  Bachelor Number Four

  Is the bad boy back to break her heart?

  Twelve years ago, Arden Walsh let Shane Donner break her heart before she walked away from him for what she thought was forever. Now, widowed too soon and with two young daughters, the last thing Arden has time for is a relationship.

  But a little hot sex?

  Yes, please.

  After another disaster date leaves more than a bad taste in her mouth, she has to admit it. The only man worth black stilettos and red lipstick is the one for whom she once threw caution to the wind, and never since—not even for her husband. Twelve years, and she can still taste the bittersweet memory of Shane Donner.

  In a keystroke, a search engine connects the past with the present. As sparks fly from her fingertips to his, she begins to wonder if a screen full of seduction is enough to forge a future.

  Nothing in Common

  It's all fun and games...until someone falls in love.

  Burned in the past by a handsome man who'd made her feel ugly, Lila Lazin's not interested in Tom Caine. Tom looks like he stepped right off the cover of a fashion magazine -- and he's smart and funny, too. He's also interested in Lila, no matter how much she tries to tell him they have nothing in common.

  Always You: A Novel in Three Parts

  Jack and Josie have a game.

  Ten points for correctly predicting which lame come-on the next person will use to hit on you. Fifteen points for getting asked for your phone number. Twenty for being bought a drink.

  Get someone to ask you to go home with them, and you've won The Game.

  Now Josie's tired of watching beautiful women throw themselves at the one man who's always been there for her, and even winning has become losing if it means the man who takes her home from the bar isn't Jack. She knows how to get other men to fall at her feet, but will the same moves work on her best friend? In love and lust, it's all about Playing The Game...

  Jack and Josie have been friends for years, but what will it take to convince them it's time to become more?

  Always You includes Playing the Game, Opening the Door and White Wedding, three novellas from the author of best-selling novels Dirty, Broken, Tempted and more.

  Friendly Fire

  An island. A fantasy. A new beginning.

  Agent Kendall Frasier has every reason to despise Agent Zane Vincent. After all, Vincent's the reason Kendall's partner ended up dead. When both agents are sent to a tropical island for some forced rest and psychological evaluation before they can return to work, neither of them expect the other to be there. Sparks fly. Passion ignites.

  It's an island, so why not give in to the fantasy?

  Friendly Fire is a sexy novella featuring salt breezes, soft sands and a assorted muscled abs and witty banter. Slather on the suntan lotion and grab a fruity drink for this guaranteed Happy Ever After!

  Worth the Risk

  A Contemporary Romance Bundle

  Megan Hart

  Worth the Risk

  Chaos Publishing

  Copyright 2002, 2004, 2006, 2010, 2019 ©Megan Hart

  Chaos Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  ebook ISBN:

  print ISBN:

  photo credit: HayDmitriy

  cover: Chaos

  Contents

  Stumble into Love

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Bachelor Number Four

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Nothing in Common

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Always You: A Novel in Three Parts

  Playing the Game

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Opening the Door

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  White Wedding

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Friendly Fire

  Acknowledgments

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Also by Megan Hart

  About the Author

  Stumble into Love

  Chapter 1

  "Are you sure that's the one you want, dear?" Ms. Whitehead held out the heavy binder and frowned over her chic, gold-rimmed glasses at Laila Alster. "I have to say, he's not one of our more popular models."

  Ms. Whitehead flipped a few pages toward the front of the thick sheaf of photos stored in plastic sleeves, then pointed to the picture of a man with blond, shoulder-length hair. His limpid eyes, chiseled jaw and bronzed skin, coupled with the hair and the muscular body, was not at all what she was looking for.

  "No, thanks. He's not quite me."

  Ms. Whitehead laughed. "Honey, are you sure? Rick is mostly anybody. Take another look."

  Laila smiled politely, but opened the binder back to the page she'd first indicated. "My family would never believe me if I showed up with a man like that on my arm. No, I think--" She paused to read the name on the photograph. "Harold. I think he'll be perfect for my needs."

  Ms. Whitehead sighed and slid the binder back over her desk, then heaved it onto a bookcase laden with similar binders. "All right, honey, if you say so. Hal doesn't get much work, poor thing."

  "Why?" Laila asked wryly. "Because he wears glasses, looks like a normal guy and not a muscle bound god of love?"

  "Er--well." Ms. Whitehead paused then patted her silver bouffant wi
th one bejeweled hand. "Ahem. I'd say that's one reason."

  Misgiving fluttered in Laila's already churning stomach. "And the other reasons?"

  "Hal means well, Miss Alster. He means very well, in fact. He's one of the more enthusiastic models here at LoveMatch. But he doesn't get much repeat business, I have to be honest with you."

  Laila swallowed hard, waiting for the bad news. He was a drug addict. He liked to rough up his customers. He had chronic halitosis. What could be so dire that Ms. Whitehead, the LoveMatch goddess herself, could barely bring herself to reveal it?"

  "Hal's a bit clumsy," Ms. Whitehead said finally with a glance over her glasses that told Laila she wasn't exaggerating. "And his social skills are a little less developed than we usually prefer in our men. But he's enrolled in all our courses and is improving quite nicely. I only warn you because you told me how important it was for you to have date for this family party."

  Not just a date, Laila thought. A fiancé. "Social skills. You mean like holding the door open for me and pulling out my chair? Stuff like that? Because that doesn't really matter. In fact, the less of that, the better."

  Ms. Whitehead looked uncomfortable. She tapped her long crimson-lacquered nails lightly on top of her desk. At last she pulled open one of her file drawers and took out a thin folder. Opening it, she removed a sheet of paper, filled in a few blanks, and pushed it across the desk to Laila.

  "Since you seem to have your heart set on Hal," Ms. Whitehead said, "I'll tell you what I'm going to do for you, honey. I'm going to give you a free night out with him, compliments of LoveMatch. You can see for yourself if he is the right man to escort you to your family shindig. If it doesn't work out, you can come back and choose one of our other models. Okay?"

  A free night out sounded all right. Laila looked over the paper, which turned out to be a standard release form. She'd read the one included with her information packet already, and so now she signed the bottom with the pen Ms. Whitehead held out. The silver-haired woman then tucked the paper back in the folder, twirled her desk chair toward another set of filing cabinets, and pulled out another file.

  "Here's some background information on Hal," she said, pushing a sheet of paper over the desk.

  There wasn't much written on it. "Favorite music, "Weird" Al Yankovic?" Laila smiled. She liked "Weird" Al, too, but she wasn't sure she'd have listed him as her favorite. "Hobbies are reading, bike riding, and going for long, romantic walks along the beach in the moonlight."

  Except for the last, which was so obviously added to spice up his file it was almost laughable, he didn't sound bad so far. She quickly read further. He'd gone to college, mastered in accounting. So he was good at math. He'd also marked he was currently attending school, but not what for.

  "I'm sure he'll be fine," she said. "What's the next step?"

  "For the initial date, I can make the arrangements for you. You pick the place and time, and I'll contact your escort to make sure he's available." Ms. Whitehead ran her finger down the lines in the appointment book. "He usually is. As I said, LoveMatch will pick up the escort fee, and this time, dinner is on us. But after that--"

  "Of course," Laila said. She thumbed open her phone’s calendar, though she knew her evenings were free. Like Hal, she was usually available. "Wednesday night looks good for me. MJ's Coffeehouse at the Allen Theater in Annville?"

  Ms. Whitehead nodded. "We can have Hal pick you up at home, or if you prefer, you can meet him at the date location. Most of our clients choose to meet their escorts in a public place first--although a good many of them end up letting their dates escort them home."

  Laila ignored the older woman's wink. She wasn't hiring Hal to be her sex toy. She needed him to act as her fiancé for one week, during her grandparents' sixtieth anniversary celebration. She needed him to treat her terribly, act like a total jerk in front of her family, and break things off with her in such a way they'd never ask about him again.

  "If I do decide that Hal will work out, can I be sure he's available for the entire week?"

  "Many of our clients have taken their escorts on vacations with them. Most of our men make a very nice living doing what they do. I shouldn't imagine there'll be any problem."

  Not for an all-expense paid vacation and a nice fat fee, too. Laila cringed at what this was going to do to her bank account, but getting her family's attention away from her love life was worth any price. Ian's insurance money would have paid for a nice exotic vacation or a big screen television. Instead it would pay for a new fiancé.

  "Fine." Laila shook Ms. Whitehead's hand. "Seven-thirty?"

  "Wonderful." Ms. Whitehead's lips, crimson to match her nails, spread into a genuine smile. "Good luck, dear."

  "Thank you," Laila said.

  She'd need it.

  The smell of sweat was overpowering. Hal Kessler swallowed heavily and kept his feet moving on the elliptical trainer. Twenty minutes to go and he'd be done.

  "So I was saying," Rick Mallard went on, oblivious to Hal's silence. "The chick really dug me, you know? And she was stacked! And loaded, too. So her face was could crack a mirror, hey, so what? She took me to Visaggio's for dinner three times in one week."

  "Huh," Hal said.

  "So of course I had to make sure I gave her dessert," Rick said with a leer.

  The tan blond man adjusted the buttons on his trainer, stepping up the pace. Even though his feet were going twice as fast as Hal's, Rick didn't even sound out of breath. His back muscles, clearly visible through the white mesh tank shirt he wore, pumped and worked as he strode. Hal could work out for years and his back would never look like that.

  "Huh," Hal said again, noncommittally. It was about all he could manage without puffing embarrassingly.

  "Then this other broad, name's Marsha, hips like a battleship, know what I mean? But she's loaded, too. She took me to Neiman Marcus and bought me a tux just so we could go to the theater."

  "A client bought me a book of poetry once," Hal offered. He tried not to let a gasp punctuate every word.

  Rick shot him a look. "Wow, Kessler. That's uh--cool."

  It had been very cool, Hal thought. Soloman's Song of Songs. Love poetry, filled with rich and passionate imagery. Mary Kate Peterson had been that client's name, and one of the few who'd hired him more than once. She'd never asked him for any "dessert," though.

  "So anyway--" The trill of an incoming text message interrupted Rick's story.

  Rick's hand went automatically to phone clipped in a case at his waistband, and he pressed the button. The beeping continued. It took Rick's look of comical surprise to make Hal realize it wasn't Rick's phone making the noise. It was his own.

  "Kessler, it's you." Rick shook his head and tossed his long, blond hair over his shoulders. "Go for it, dude."

  Hal fumbled with the phone’s tiny buttons. The beeping stopped abruptly, but because he'd had to let go of the elliptical machine's handrail, Hal lost his balance. Suddenly the machine was going too fast for his feet, and he couldn't keep up. As he tried to stop the machine and get off all at the same time the elastic cuff on his sweatpants got caught on the edge of the pedal. The still-moving pedals threw him forward, into the trainer's control panel, and he banged his head on the handrail. Hal dropped his phone.

  It seemed that every eye in the entire gym was on him as he extricated himself from the damnable machine and bent to pick up his phone. Probably because everyone was staring at him. Hal kept his head high, even as he tripped over his towel and knocked against Rick's machine.

  He didn't imagine the sniggers and muffled chortles following him as he made his way to the locker room. His face burned, and he ducked with relief through the quiet doorway. He'd suffered humiliations before at this gym, but never one on such a grand scale.

  The phone beeped again, more insistently this time, as he fumbled with his locker. Guys like Rick got called so often that answering a text was second nature to them. Guys like Rick, who had barely two brain cells to
rub together, managed to exercise, answer their calls and look great doing it. Hal had advanced business and accounting degrees, and yet he could barely walk and chew gum at the same time. He sighed in despair as his fingers hit the wrong numbers on the phone and he had to redial. Why was he such a huge klutz?

  "You've got a date for Wednesday night, honey," Muriel Whitehead told him without preamble. "Seven-thirty, MJ's Coffeehouse in Annville. Casual dress."

  "Thanks, Muriel."

  He heard her flipping through her appointment book. "This could be a big job, kiddo. A week in the Poconos."