Incognito

Lily crawled out of her seat and retrieved a pair of blankets from the overhead bin. The cabin was silent and dark, the flight attendants busy in the galley. She sat down next to him and handed him one.

He chuckled softly, drawing her back onto his lap. “Good idea.” Aidan pulled the blanket around them and worked at the buttons on her blouse.

Lily stared up into his eyes. Suddenly she felt a bit light-headed. “I think we need more privacy,” she whispered. “I’ll meet you in the bathroom. Wait for a minute or two and then come back.”

She rebuttoned her blouse and crawled off him, then tiptoed down the aisle. She wasn’t afraid, and that’s what surprised her most. Lily had spent years being fearful of one thing or another. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the altitude—or simply the man himself. But Lily knew exactly what she wanted—no doubts, no insecurities.

A few seconds later Aidan knocked at the door. Lily opened it without hesitation. She was going to have this man, here and now. And she was determined she wouldn’t regret it tomorrow.

Dear Reader,

What’s my fantasy? I have more than a few. How about a live-in masseuse, or a cat that doesn’t shed. A computer that can type the words directly from my brain to my word processing program without me having to lift a finger. I wouldn’t mind having a coffee bar in my kitchen with a barista to run it. And I’d love a car that cleaned itself. So none of my fantasies involve sex, but sometimes a girl just needs help with the everyday stuff.

In Incognito, I got a chance to explore the naughty side of fantasies. Lily Hart makes one of her fantasies come true when she has the chance to step outside herself and become the kind of woman who’d seduce a man at first sight. And it all happens at 20,000 feet!

I hope you enjoy her story. And I hope you get the chance to make one of your forbidden fantasies come true.

Happy reading,

Kate Hoffmann

Incognito

Kate Hoffmann

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kate Hoffmann has been writing for Harlequin Books since 1993. Over that time, she’s published nearly sixty titles for Harlequin Blaze, Harlequin Temptation, Harlequin anthologies and continuities, and various other lines. When not writing, Kate is involved in musical and theater activities in her community. She lives in southeast Wisconsin with her two cats, Tally and Chloe, and enjoys golf, genealogy and talking on the phone with her sister.

Books by Kate Hoffmann

HARLEQUIN BLAZE

234—SINFULLY SWEET “Simply Scrumptious”

279—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: MARCUS

285—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: IAN

291—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: DECLAN

340—DOING IRELAND!

356—FOR LUST OR MONEY

379—YOUR BED OR MINE?

HARLEQUIN SINGLE TITLES (The Quinns)

REUNITED

THE PROMISE

THE LEGACY

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

847—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: CONOR

851—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: DYLAN

855—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: BRENDAN

933—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: LIAM

937—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: BRIAN

941—THE MIGHTY QUINNS: SEAN

963—LEGALLY MINE

988—HOT & BOTHERED

1017—WARM & WILLING

To my wonderful, patient, insightful editor,

Brenda Chin, who can always find a way to make

my words work—even when they don’t want to.

Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Epilogue

Prologue

Last Summer

“YOU HAVE our tickets, don’t you?”

Lily Hart sighed softly, her meditation interrupted. She was due to get on a plane in a half hour and if she didn’t calm herself, the panic attacks would set in the moment she stepped on board. “Yes, Miranda, I have the tickets. Have I ever forgotten the tickets?”

She reached down into her tote and pulled out the ridiculously expensive Italian leather travel wallet that Miranda had given her last Christmas. As she stared at their boarding passes, tucked neatly into the inside pocket, Lily shook her head. This was her life—designer accessories, first-class tickets to Paris, three weeks in a rented six-bedroom apartment on some fancy rue on the Left Bank. This was her life.

Except it wasn’t her life. She was living the life of Miranda Sinclair, bestselling novelist. As Miranda’s research assistant, social secretary and girl Friday, it was Lily’s responsibility to see that Miranda’s life was as close to worry-free as possible. And for that, she was paid quite handsomely.

A good-paying job shouldn’t come at such a high price, Lily mused. Miranda was Lily’s godmother and she’d been her legal guardian since Lily’s parents divorced fourteen years ago. Miranda had offered her a home, a place to live when her parents had decided to leave the States. Miranda needed her, more than anyone had ever needed her before, and Lily ought to be grateful.

“I’m sorry,” Lily murmured. “I didn’t mean to snap. You know how I feel about flying.”

Miranda reached out and patted Lily’s hand. In addition to providing a home, Miranda had paid Lily’s college tuition and she’d given her a job when she got out of school. Lily was grateful. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to have a life all her own.

“Look,” Miranda murmured, nodding in the direction of a man sitting on a sofa on the other side of the first-class lounge. “Gorgeous, no?”

Lily turned to Miranda and frowned. “Stop. I thought we decided you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

“Just look.” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger, then straightened, tucking her ash-blond hair behind her ear. Even though she’d just turned fifty-four, Miranda acted more like a big sister than a parent figure. She certainly didn’t look much older than Lily’s twenty-seven years. “That is a very fine specimen.”

Lily refused the order. For the past few years, Miranda had been intent on finding a man for Lily. Apparently, she hadn’t fully approved of the men Lily occasionally found for herself—nice, stable, slightly boring men who wouldn’t cheat and wouldn’t hurt her. Miranda preferred another type of man—passionate, temperamental, creative—the typical bad boy.

“God, he is gorgeous. You know who that is, don’t you? That’s Aidan Pierce. Hollywood’s new enfant terrible. Three hit films in as many tries. Every producer in town is sending him projects to direct. How old do you think he is?”

Reluctantly, Lily glanced up and fixed her gaze on the man in question. Her breath suddenly caught in her throat and she was forced to look away—or faint from lack of oxygen.

Living in L.A., she’d seen her share of beautiful men. But she’d always managed to discount them all because they didn’t meet the image of perfection she kept in her head. Aidan Pierce came as close to perfect as any man she’d ever set eyes upon.

Swallowing hard, she forced a smile. “Too young for you.”

“I’m thinking of changing my rules. I no longer think it would look pathetic for me to date men under the age of thirty.” Miranda sat back in her chair and sniffed. “He wouldn’t be too young for you. Why don’t we go over and introduce ourselves? Offer to buy him a drink.”

She moved to stand, but Lily grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. “No, stop it!” She felt a flush creep up her cheeks.

Miranda sighed dramatically. “You know I adore you, darling, but you can’t live with me for the rest of your life. You need to get out in the world and enjoy yourself.”

“And fixing me up with strange men is going to do that?”

Miranda grudgingly picked up her copy of Vogue and flipped through the pages. “I’d hardly call him strange. When was the last time you had sex?”

“None of your business,” Lily muttered.

With Miranda’s attention distracted, Lily had a chance to observe Aidan Pierce silently. He was dressed casually, in cargo shorts, a faded cotton shirt rolled up at the sleeves and flip-flops. His hair was mussed in a way that made him look as if he’d just rolled out of bed to catch his flight. She could see the shadow of a two-or three-day beard on his chiseled jaw.

A shiver skittered down her spine as she speculated about the body beneath the comfortable clothes. There were women in this world, in L.A., who knew what Aidan Pierce looked like naked—women who had probably touched him in all sorts of tantalizing ways.

A tiny moan slipped from her throat and she covered it with a cough, then glanced over at Miranda. To her dismay, Miranda was watching her, a smug smile on her face. “What?” Lily muttered.

“So you do find him attractive,” she said.

“Of course. Who wouldn’t?” She looked over at Aidan again, only to see a beautiful young woman plop down on his lap. He squirmed uneasily beneath her, but she refused to budge. “See, he has a girlfriend. He’s taken.”

Miranda went back to her magazine. “It’ll never last. I read in the tabloids that he dates all the most beautiful actresses in Hollywood and then dumps them a month or two later. His problem is he needs a real woman. Like you.”

“I don’t think he’d be interested in me,” Lily murmured. Though Miranda had done her best to turn Lily into a beauty, Lily still felt…ordinary.

Miranda twisted in her chair and leveled her gaze on Lily. “Have you learned nothing from writing that book? You can seduce any man you want, you just have to have confidence in your sex appeal.”

Lily shook her head. “I didn’t write The Ten-Minute Seduction, you did.”

For the past year, Lily had helped Miranda write a sex manual, a book that instructed women on the most effective way to seduce a man. Miranda was known for her bestselling legal thrillers, but for some unknown reason, she’d felt compelled to switch genres. Knowing her publishers wouldn’t approve, she’d sold the book using a pseudonym—Lacey St. Claire.

“You know you wrote most of it,” Miranda said. “The book is really yours. And the copyright will be yours, too. So all the royalties will come to you.” Miranda held up her hand. “I won’t hear another word about it.” She put on a pout that was all too familiar to Lily. “I would have thought you’d have learned something. Anything.”

Lily frowned as a slow realization dawned. “What do you mean?”

Miranda shrugged. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Was that all part of your scheming?” Lily demanded. “Did you make me write that book so that I’d know how to seduce a man?”

Miranda pursed her lips. “Well, I didn’t expect it to be so good. I just thought I’d put it in a drawer and forget about it. But it was good, Lily. Your research combined with my experience made the book publishable. So sue me. I thought I was doing you a favor.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Lily slumped back in her chair. “The meddling stops right now, Miranda. You know how much I love you, but this has got to stop. Do you know how hard I worked on that book? I thought I was helping you and you were just tricking me.”

“And when the book comes out next year, you’ll be a published author and you’ll have a man.” Miranda stood and tucked her purse beneath her arm. “I’m going to go get us a few drinks. You’re so much easier to manage on a flight after you’ve tossed back a few cocktails.”

Lily watched as her godmother crossed to the bar. She’d dreamed of becoming published, but not this way, not with some sex book. For six months now, she’d been working on her own novel, a simple story about a young girl searching for her place in the world. But between Miranda’s schedule and her own insecurities, she hadn’t found much time to work.

She watched as Miranda wandered over to Aidan and introduced herself. She nodded in Lily’s direction and Aidan gave her a brief look, then turned his attention back to Miranda.

“I have got to get a life of my own,” she muttered. She would. As soon as they got back from Paris, she’d look for an apartment. And then, maybe, if a guy like Aidan Pierce glanced in her direction, she’d have the courage to walk up to him and say hello.

1

This summer

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, welcome to our premiere service between Los Angeles and New York. While we’re preparing for take-off, your flight attendants will be serving beverages. Our scheduled departure of 9:30 p.m. has been pushed back twenty minutes, but the captain assures us that we will be arriving in New York right on time.”

The bell dinged and Lily pinched her eyes shut, her white-knuckled hands clutching at the arms of her seat. This was the part she always hated, the waiting, the time between the moment she strapped herself in and the moment the jet lifted off the ground.

Though she’d nearly conquered her aversion to flying about a year ago, her trip to Paris with Miranda had renewed every fear and then doubled it. They’d lost an engine somewhere over the Atlantic and had been forced to make an emergency landing in Ireland. Lily had refused to get back on the plane and had taken a combination of boats and trains to Paris. When it came time to go home, she’d returned home the same way—the QE II across the Atlantic followed by a cross-country train trip. Since then, she’d refused to get on a plane.

She glanced down at the self-help book that lay open on her tray table. She’d read six books in the past two months, seen a psychologist and a psychiatrist and attended two seminars that guaranteed success in conquering a fear of flying.

“Airline travel is the safest mode of travel,” she murmured to herself, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. Yeah, right. That would make her feel so much better when plummeting from twenty thousand feet.

Had Lily been given a choice, she might have taken the train to New York. But Miranda had insisted that her fears were unfounded. She just needed to get back on the horse—which would have been a reasonable alternative in Lily’s mind. L.A. to New York via wagon train. When was the last time anyone died in a fiery wagon train crash?

In the end, Lily was forced to agree. Her fears were childish and she needed to conquer them before they completely paralyzed her. But that didn’t mean she’d be unprepared for disaster. She grabbed the emergency card from the pocket in front of her and tried to focus on the information. Why didn’t they just give everyone a parachute? Then if anything bad happened, they could all jump.

She waved one of the flight attendants over to her seat. “I think I’m going to need something to drink after all. If it’s not too late.”

“We’re still waiting for a few first-class passengers to board. What can I get you?”

“Vodka,” Lily said. “Two of those little bottles in a glass of ice with just a splash of cranberry juice.” Lily forced a smile and sat back in her seat. This was all her fault. She’d made a vow a year ago to move out of Miranda’s house and make a life of her own. But the time had never been right.

Miranda had always been in the middle of some crisis or another. Now her godmother was three months late on a deadline and had convinced herself the only place she could possibly finish the book was her summer house in the Hamptons. So Lily had been ordered to go on ahead and open the place.

She reached into her bag and pulled out a small photo album. She’d made the album in a pteromerhanophobia workshop she’d taken last month. The participants had been asked to select photos representing all the things they wanted to do in the future. During a plane trip, they were supposed to find a photo and focus on it.

Lily flipped through the album. There was a picture of the Great Wall of China, her ultimate travel destination. And another of a cute little dog—she’d always wanted a dog, but Miranda was allergic. And there was a photo of a model in a sexy bathing suit. Someday, she’d lose twenty pounds and look just like that.

Lily paused, her gaze falling on the photo of Aidan Pierce she’d cut out of Premiere. Someday she’d find a man who made her heart flutter as much as he had. Since seeing him from across the airport lounge a year ago, Lily had followed his career in the magazines. She’d bought all his movies on DVD and read everything she could find about his social and professional life. And occasionally, she’d allow herself a fantasy or two about what it might be like to have a man like Aidan in her bed.

The flight attendant returned with Lily’s drink and set it in front of her, placing the tumbler on top of a napkin. “I’ll have to collect that before we take off.”

A man passed behind the attendant and she smiled as he bumped against her with his bag. Lily took a sip of her vodka and watched as the passenger searched for an empty overhead bin. He turned and she caught sight of his profile.

She sucked in a sharp breath and the vodka went down wrong, causing a fit of coughing. Gasping for breath, Lily slumped down in her seat and covered her mouth with the napkin.

The flight attendant bent closer. “Are you all right?” she asked.

Lily waved her hand, tears now streaming down her face. Of all the possible people to walk onto her flight, why did it have to be him? She risked a glance up and found Aidan Pierce watching her, an odd look on his face. He glanced at his boarding pass, then looked directly at the numbers above her head.

“No,” she said in a silent plea. Not the seat next to her. There were plenty of other places for him to sit. He couldn’t possibly be sitting next to her, could he? He showed his boarding pass to the flight attendant and she stepped aside, pointing to the seat next to Lily’s.

Lily turned to stare out the window, desperately willing herself to calm down and act like a normal human being. But when she turned back around, she came face-to-face with Aidan’s crotch as he reached up to put his bag in the overhead compartment.

His cotton shirt was unbuttoned at the bottom, offering her a view of his belly. Her eyes drifted from the line of hair above his waistband to the bulge in his cargo pants and then back up again. Lily quickly turned away, fixing her attention out the window again.

Suddenly, dying in a mass of twisted steel and burning jet fuel seemed to be an acceptable alternative to flying all the way to New York next to Aidan Pierce. He plopped down beside her. They were so close she could feel the heat of his body, smell the scent of his cologne. She wanted to reach out for her drink, but she was afraid her hand might be trembling too much to pick up the glass.

“It’s nice to have you with us again, Mr. Pierce. Can I get you a drink?”

“I’ll have a beer,” he said.

Oh God. He didn’t sound the way he was supposed to sound. She hadn’t met him that day at the airport, but she’d watched him interviewed on E! and he always seemed so aloof, his voice so careful and measured, kind of self-absorbed. Now, he sounded like a nice guy.

Lily clutched her fingers together in her lap and realized her photo book was still open. She snapped it shut, then dropped it into her tote bag. How long could she possibly sit here without speaking? Sooner or later, someone would have to say something. They couldn’t ignore each other for the entire six-hour flight.

“Relax. Nothing is going to happen.”

Lily shoved her glasses up the bridge of her nose and gave him a feeble smile. “I-I’m not scared.”

He chuckled and then pointed to the book still resting on her tray table. “The Pteromerhanophobic Traveler,” he murmured. “Quite a title. Catchy. I’d assume by the little cartoon of the smiling airplane that the book is about people who can’t get enough of flying?”

For a moment she relaxed enough to really look at him—his shaggy dark hair and his sculpted mouth, pale blue eyes that seemed to see right through her. In comparison to the buttoned-down business attire most men in first class wore, his lived-in clothes made him look dangerous.

A shiver skittered down her spine. Lily had read thousands of romantic descriptions of male beauty, from Jane Austen to Joan Collins, but for the life of her, she couldn’t recall one that did this man justice. He was, for all intents and purposes, perfect.

“I-I’m sorry,” she murmured. “You’re right. I’m not a very good flyer.” But her tension had nothing at all to do with her fear of flying. She’d never been good with extremely handsome men. They always made her feel…clumsy and inept. And handsome men, especially men with beautiful smiles and even more beautiful eyes, made her lose her capacity to think in a rational manner. She always seemed to lose herself in thoughts of what they might look like naked.

“If anything is going to happen,” he said, “it’ll happen in the first few minutes after takeoff.”

“Yes, I know. In the first ninety seconds,” Lily said. “So if we’re going to die, it’s going to happen really soon. That makes me feel better.” She glanced over at him to see a smile break across his face.

“Now you’re beginning to make me scared.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

He chuckled. “Why do you keep apologizing?”

“I’m sorry.” She took a sharp breath, then forced another smile.

A flight attendant stopped beside Aidan’s seat and gave him a warm smile as she set his drink down. Lily glanced across the aisle at another female passenger whose gaze was fixed intently on Aidan. It seemed every woman in his general vicinity found his drink order endlessly fascinating.

She sneaked a better look at his profile. So he shared some qualities with your basic Greek god, but handsome men were a dime a dozen in Los Angeles. She’d just never been so close to one. His elbow grazed hers and Lily gathered her resolve, refusing to move her arm off the armrest of her seat.

He turned back to her and she quickly averted her eyes as he caught her staring. “Would you like another?” he asked.

“Yes,” Lily said without thinking.

“Double vodka with a splash of cranberry juice?” the flight attendant asked.

“Just cranberry juice,” Lily replied, a blush rising in her cheeks. Already, the vodka had calmed her nerves and warmed her blood. But it wouldn’t do to have him thinking she was a lush.

“With just a little vodka,” Aidan said.

“I—I really don’t drink,” Lily said. “Only when I fly.”

“Me, too,” he replied. “Since we’re going to get drunk together, maybe I should introduce myself. My name is Aidan. Aidan Pierce.”

“I’m Lily Hart,” she said. She carefully placed her fingers into his palm. The moment she touched him, Lily felt a current race through her body. Frowning, she pulled her hand away, clenching her fingers into a fist. “Nice to meet you,” she murmured.

If only she knew how to flirt. There were probably ten or fifteen women on this flight who’d give up a year’s salary to be sitting exactly where she was. This man was going to be completely wasted on her.

Lily had never needed to flirt. It had never been required for the men who usually found her attractive. But a guy like Aidan probably expected it, maybe even enjoyed it—the witty banter, the offhand caresses, the veiled come-ons. Lily realized if she didn’t at least make an attempt, he’d walk away thinking she was…odd.

The flight attendant reappeared with her drink. Aidan handed her the cranberry juice, then he held up his beer in a toast. “To our safe arrival in New York.”

Lily gave him a hesitant smile. This wasn’t going that badly. In fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, he was flirting with her.