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“Well, that’s a good thing, then,” Emma replied brightly, steering them toward a set of double doors. She spun around and mussed Colin’s hair, causing him to duck and mutter.

“Stop moving,” she commanded, making Ellie chuckle. Emma adjusted Colin’s jacket, mussed his hair a little more, then gave him the once over. “Okay. You’ll do.”

“How about me?” Ellie ventured to ask.

Emma flashed her a genuine smile. “You need nothing but your smile. You’re perfect just the way you are.”

Ellie grinned at her kind words, then met Colin’s eyes. He nodded slightly, and Ellie’s confidence rose another notch. Her stomach, however, continued its roller-coaster ride.

Winnie gave her a quick hug and a buss on the cheek before murmuring, “Here we go, darling.”

“Ready?” Colin asked.

Ellie tried to put all thoughts of her past in the back of her mind, and nodded firmly. “Ready.”

“Then let’s do this.” Together, they pushed open the double doors leading into the conference room, and the cameras began to flash.

The press conference started just as terribly as Ellie expected.

They sat at a table, side by side, with small glasses of water in front of them.

Colin gave his speech about Celtic Connections, its purpose, its vision, and a whole host of other things she didn’t bother to pay any attention to.

It was hard to think past the knot in her stomach.

When he opened the floor for questions, the first of the reporters didn’t mince words.

“Miss Carberry, is your inability to find a fulfilling relationship due in part or whole to your unsuccessful past with Andrew Beaufort?”

Ellie tucked her hair behind her ear.

“Wasn’t that over a decade ago?” Colin cut in smoothly. “And only a couple of weeks, no less? Surely you have better questions than that. Next?”

“Miss Carberry!” Another reporter, a long woman with stringy brown hair, waved her small hand-held recorder in the air. “Do you have a minimum acceptable income level for the men who wish to date you? What’s your net worth?”

Ellie didn’t need to tuck her hair; Colin rolled his eyes and sighed audibly.

Without covering his microphone, he leaned back and said in a joking-but-really-not-so-joking manner, “I thought we invited the best Britain had to offer, and they’re asking questions that are no doubt answered with a quick Internet search. ”

A chuckle from the room showed that offense was not taken.

“All right then, let me rephrase the question,” the reporter sneered. “How much does it cost to date Miss Carberry?”

“Income has very little to do with a successful match,” Colin objected with an easy grace.

“We charge a service fee, as we are a service-based company. Therefore, if a person is selected for a date with Miss Carberry, he must be able to pay the fee, which again is detailed online. Our pricing structure is laid out for all our clients. The most important thing about matchmaking is the compatibility. In this day and age, there’s truly nothing to stop you from following your heart.

That’s what we aim to help our clients do. ”

Questions were fired at Colin and her aunt, but Ellie was largely ignored after the initial barrage. What felt like hours later, Colin finally called out, “Last question. You, sir?”

“Miss Carberry,” the man began. “You’ve remained awfully quiet today. Are you doing this of your own free will, or have you been steamrolled into it by your opinionated aunt?”

Colin opened his mouth, but Ellie placed a staying hand on his arm. She gently moved her microphone closer to her mouth and made eye contact with the reporter, trying not to blink in the onslaught of flashing bulbs.

“What an interesting question.” She drew a breath and mustered a smile.

“While I’m a very private person, my aunt, as you all know, is not.

” A chuckle rose from the crowd. She continued, “My aunt, however, has never ‘steamrolled’ me into anything. It’s difficult for many to remember that behind the pen, there’s a living, breathing person.

She loves, she lives, and she laughs. She took me in when I had nothing.

I owe her everything, and so when she asked if I would help her to prove a company’s worth, I agreed.

And I was able to agree, of my own free will, as you so aptly called it, because I was given a chance at living a life.

” She paused, the knot in her stomach loosening, then looked out at the crowd of silent faces.

“You all know that I’m American by birth.

You also know I’m a Londoner by choice. I’ve grown up here.

I live here. I holiday here, and I am a business owner myself.

The only thing my aunt has any sway over is where we eat dinner—and that’s only because her palate is more refined than my own. ”

Another chuckle from the crowd emboldened Ellie further. She turned to Colin and gave him a half-shrug. “You have to do more than convince my aunt that your company doesn’t cater to the higher classes of British society. You have to convince me as well.”

The room erupted into scattered applause and laughter.

“Challenge accepted,” Colin murmured, his eyes showing his surprise.

Ellie turned back to the reporter. “I hope that answered your question, and gave you something to misquote in your papers.” She eased the jab with a bright smile.

“I respectfully ask that you not stalk me on these various dates, but I think we all know how that’s going to go.

So until we meet again.” She gave a small smile, then stood.

Colin followed, and they exited the conference room as quickly as they’d entered it half an hour beforehand.

Colin steered her down the hall to a back staircase.

“There’s a car waiting for us,” he said. “I want to avoid the media frenzy as long as possible.”

“What media frenzy?” she asked.

He slanted her a look. “The one you just created with that impassioned little speech in there. I have to prove my company to you, too?”

Ellie gave him an incredulous look. “Of course. And I honestly hope you’re joking about the frenzy, Colin.”

“I wish I was. But I’ve been down this road before, and it leads right into the flash of a photographer’s camera.” He ushered her into the back alley, and, as promised, a sleek black limousine was waiting for them. The door swung open, and they all piled inside, joining Reilly and Gwen.

“You were brilliant,” Emma declared, her smile genuine.

Winnie exclaimed, “You were so sweet, saying those things about me. I hope it didn’t damage my reputation, though.”

“Doubtful,” Colin muttered.

Ellie sighed. “I’m glad the hardest part is over.”

“The hardest part?” Reilly shook his head and pointed to the small, silent television panel in the limo. “Lass, that press conference was simply the warm up.”

Stunned, Ellie’s eyes tracked the news ticker at the bottom of the screen.

…CARBERRY, NIECE OF COLUMNIST WINIFRED EMSWORTH, SET TO GIVE CELTIC CONNECTIONS A RUN FOR ITS MONEY…

…ELEANOR THE GREAT, OR ELEANOR THE FAKE? WILL brITAIN’S AMERICAN TAKE HER CAKE?…

“Oh, that one’s just terrible.” Winnie tsked as she adjusted her scarf. “That reference is most decidedly not British. Or American. I could come up with a better moniker in my sleep .”

“You might have to,” Gwen replied, dismay flitting across her features. “Ellie, they’re comparing you to Marie Antoinette!”

“I figured that one out, Gwen.”

“They’re just looking for something that will stick,” Winnie sighed. “That one won’t.”

Ellie buried her face in her hands. “I have a strong need to swear right now.”

“And ruin my delicate ears? I should hope you have better restraint,” Winnie said pertly.

“Your ears are the furthest thing from delicate,” Ellie muttered.

“Rot the lot, I say,” Reilly declared. “You charmed them. They’ll be dogging your every step. Also, your flat’s bugged.”

“Is he serious?” Ellie demanded, looking first at Colin, then Emma. “Is he?”

“I am,” Reilly replied. He held up his phone. “I sent someone over to check, and looks like someone’s definitely been and gone.”

Colin rubbed his temples, and Ellie dropped her head into her hands, her earlier bravado gone.

“I don’t want to become a tabloid feature story,” she moaned. Through her fingers, she looked at her aunt in desperation. “Can you fix this?”

“I’ll try,” Winnie promised. “Until we have the bobbies over for a look, you can stay with me.”

Ellie nodded miserably as Gwen took her hand. She adored her flat; imagining what the police might do to it to uncover recording devices made her shudder.

Imagining a stranger in her home made her ill.

Colin gave Winnie’s address to the driver. Then, to Ellie, “We’ll take care of this and put you up somewhere, as per your contract.”

She stared at him blankly.

He sighed, then looked at Emma and held out his hand. She rifled through the bag on the floor and slapped a stack of papers into it, which he shoved at Ellie. “Here. Policies and procedures of Celtic Connections. You know. The ones you signed?”

Ellie bit her lip. “Right.”

Emma wrinkled her nose. “I used to never read the fine print, either,” she confessed. “Trust me. After one bad experience, you learn to read the fine print.”

“I beg you, please allow me be the one to tell Aidan you called him a bad experience,” Reilly implored. “I shall have the best chocolate delivered to you weekly if you just give me the pleasure…”

“Who said it had anything to do with Aidan?” she asked innocently.

“Who’s Aidan?” Ellie asked tentatively.

“My husband,” Emma said, at the same time Colin replied, “My cousin,” and Reilly grunted, “The biggest pain in my arse.”

“Well, that clarifies things,” Gwen replied dryly.

“We have a problem,” Emma said, her tone turning serious. Everyone’s head swiveled to see what she was staring at, and Ellie’s heart dropped all the way to her toes .