Page 1 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Two

CharmedBy You

A Stark Security Novella

By J. Kenner

Prologue

I never believed in love. Why would I when theonly love I ever saw was pretend?

I’d watched my parents pretending, and I’dknown it wasn’t real.

I stood under hot lights in front of a camera,faking emotions from the time I was five.

I screamed in fury, kissed with passion, andburned with the need for revenge.

I loved deeply.Rapturously.

Jealously flowed through my veins along withneed and longing and violent lust.

But it was never real. Not under those lightswith the cameras running and the crew standing silently nearby.

And certainly not in the world outside thesound stage where I drew men close, wanting to lose myself in the forgetfulnessof lust and passion, but never wanting them to know me, much less love me.

I was hollow. Alone.

Then he came along, all strength and icydetermination. As bold and brash as a leading man. He promised to keep me safe.And though there’s no denying the attraction between us, he told me to keep mydistance.

I tell myself I don’t want him.

I know that I can’t love him.

But, oh, how I wish that I could.

Chapter One

Get a grip, Frannie. You’ve got this.

I stand in my kitchen and draw in a breath, determined tolisten to my own pep talk. Yes, it’s a threat. But that doesn’t mean I have tobe scared.

And even if I am scared, that doesn’t mean I have to showit.

I’m a good actress, after all. I know this. Hell, everyoneknows it. I’ve been in front of the camera my whole life—literally. My littletush was filmed on many a changing table for diaper commercials, and I was thebaby or toddler in so many Law & Order-type shows I can’teven remember them all.

Granted, that was more like modeling, not acting. But I’vebeen doing the real thing—stepping into another persona, acting the part—sinceI was six and landed my first soap opera. At nine, my character died in atragic helicopter crash, but that was okay. I’d been noticed, and after that,I’d played the perky elementary-age daughter in many a big-screen rom com, thenthe best friend, then the love interest.

And, of course, there’s Bright Eyes, thefamily sitcom that centered around the Bright family with the single dad andseven darling kids who were more than a handful. I was ten when I landed therole of Kelly Bright, the second youngest daughter. That show ran for a decade,and even though so much of it was hell, the bottom line is that I kickedserious acting ass, even parlaying that part into bigger movie roles.

Basically, I worked my tail off. I listened to my directors,took classes, and honed my craft. I’ve won Emmys and Academy Awards and ravesfrom critics all over the globe.

Bottom line? I know how to act. More important,I know how to fake it.

And yet here I am standing in my very own house withabsolutely no idea of the part I should be playing.

I draw a deep breath, then look around the kitchen. I’dsupposedly come in here to top off my orange juice, but that had just been thebest excuse I could come up with in the moment.

The real reason was to get away from the cabal forming in mydining area—the slew of friends and security specialists sitting around mydining table as they bang out ideas for how to keep me alive.

Alive.