Mistaken For A Mistress

By Jane Porter

Argentinean Estrella Galvan is one of Europe's top models, but she's much more than a pretty face. In Cannes to find a distributor for a documentary that's close to her heart, she instead finds herself in conflict with Carlo Gabellini, a man who thinks beautiful women are all the same...

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Jul 1, 2012
• ISBN: 9781460803530

Jane Porter

Jane Porter loves central California's golden foothills and miles of farmland, rich with the sweet and heady fragrance of orange blossoms. Her parents fed her imagination by taking Jane to Europe for a year where she became passionate about Italy and those gorgeous Italian men! Jane never minds a rainy day – that's when she sits at her desk and writes stories about far-away places, fascinating people, and most important of all, love. Visit her website at: www.janeporter.com

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Chapter One

"You’d like me to what?" Estrella’s husky voice couldn’t hide her shock. This was the Gala Reception for the Marché International du Film, and the Marché, or Market, was the nuts and bolts side of the Cannes film festival. All the important people were here tonight.

It could be a good time.

Heat scalded her cheeks. Ignoring the financiers gathered around them, Estrella met the arrogant Italian’s gaze. I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong woman.

One of his eyebrows lifted. He seemed utterly oblivious of the others and the fact that this was a private reception, a very exclusive reception, for those with deep pockets and the right connections. The Market was the place where films were acquired, foreign rights were traded, and money changed hands. And the Market was the sole reason Estrella was in Cannes. You are Estrella Galván. Model?

She felt as if he’d put a choke-hold on her. She could barely breathe. If you don’t mind, I’m trying to do business here.

His light eyes—a cool silver gray—narrowed. So am I.

There was an embarrassed laugh and a low murmur of voices from the group of men. Some were amused, some uncomfortable, and Estrella’s face burned from temple to chin.

I think we could have a good time, the Italian continued with the same appalling smile. Call me.

She stiffened as he pressed a satin-finished business card into her hand, and immediately tried to return the card. I don’t want it.

Why not? You look like a fun girl. I’m always interested in a party.

Why was he doing this? What was he trying to achieve? She’d pulled a hundred strings to get an invite to the party tonight and she had just one chance—this chance—to interest these financiers in her film. The two-week festival was halfway over and so far she hadn’t found anyone willing to back her project. The movie was everything right now. The children were depending on her.

I appreciate your vote of confidence, she said tightly, keeping her flawless smile in place, but Italian men don’t really do it for me.

It was as if she’d plucked the string of a violin. The air hummed, a note of tension zinging between them and it was the most intensely physical sensation she’d known in years.

No? His voice mocked her.

No. She could feel him, feel him inhale, feel him breathe, feel him think. She trembled inwardly, shaken by the intense undercurrent.

Yet your last lover was Italian.

Her cheeks grew hotter. She shouldn’t be surprised he knew about her love life. The paparazzi haunted her everywhere, especially when she’d dated Andre Mossimo, an Italian race car driver, earlier in the year.

"Last being the operative word," she answered with a smile, and yet her eyes blazed with anger.

That’s right. You dumped Andre after his tragic accident, didn’t you?

That seemed to do it for the group of international financiers. The executives began to drift away in twos and threes and Estrella felt pure panic. She was losing them! Losing out on her chance to pitch her film, and there was no way people would think she had a serious subject after the way this man had embarrassed her in front of everyone.

Perfect, the Italian said as they were left alone. Now it’s just you and me.

Estrella’s eyes burned and she clenched her hands, crumpling the card he’d forced on