One Fiancee To Go, Please. Jackie Braun
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companions have arrived yet,” he said, sounding relieved. As they stepped into the elevator, they continued to discuss their bogus courtship.
A minute later, the elevator reached the seventh floor. When the double doors slid open, the easy banter they had been sharing evaporated along with the saliva in Tess’s mouth. As she waited for him to unlock the door to his room, she looked anxiously up and down the corridor, half expecting someone she knew to pop out and ask her what she was doing going into a strange man’s hotel room. The hall remained empty, but she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was doing something illicit, especially when Jack finally managed to open the door to his room and stood at the threshold waiting for her. She brushed past him, feeling awkward and foolish, but then she spied the dress he had laid ever so carefully across the bed’s floral comforter and her mouth fell open.
“You said size six, right?” He stood just behind her, and she could swear she felt his warm breath feather across the nape of her neck when he spoke.
“Six, yes,” she repeated, transfixed. Basic and black, it was easily the most elegant dress Tess had ever seen. It reminded her a bit of the sleek number Audrey Hepburn had worn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. She heard a wistful sigh, and realized it was her own. She adored Audrey Hepburn, but she especially loved her in that movie. It was as if he had known, she thought, then chided herself for being silly. They were strangers, after all. He barely knew her name, let alone what old movies she preferred.
But the man had taste; she would say that for him. She had spent the afternoon agonizing over what kind of a dress he would pick out for her to wear. Would it be sleazy or too prim? Would it be in some horrendous shade that would clash with her flaming hair? But Jack had chosen well.
She decided he must have driven over to the mall in Piedmont during the afternoon. Pleasant River certainly didn’t have any place that carried such stylish evening dresses. She spied the label stitched just inside the neckline and, limited though her exposure to designer fashions was, she knew it must have cost him a mint.
“The lady at the store helped me pick it out,” he said. “Um, she also helped pick out the, uh, other things.” He coughed a little self-consciously, and for the first time Tess noticed the lacy black slip and sheer hose lying next to the dress on the bed.
“Oh,” was all she could manage, grateful he stood behind her and could not watch her face redden.
“The shoes were a little trickier. I hope they’re comfortable.” His tone was dubious.
Tess noticed the pair of strappy black leather heels lined up at the foot of the bed next to a pair of size-eleven men’s dress shoes. For some reason the sight of their footwear sharing space next to a bed seemed more intimate than the fact the man had helped pick out her unmentionables.
“Well, everything seems to be in order,” he said, rubbing his hands together. He walked to the closet and pulled out a new suit. It was double-breasted and the color of charcoal, with the barest hint of a pinstripe. She noticed the tags still dangling from the cuff. At her questioning gaze, he offered a careless shrug.
“The chili didn’t come out. I guess you could say my American Express card got quite the workout today, especially since I had to have them do a rush job on the alterations.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but he held up a hand to forestall the apology that she was about to offer. “Don’t say you’re sorry, Tess. After tonight, we’re more than even.”
“Okay,” she agreed. “I won’t apologize. But can I say thank you?”
He grinned, that sexy little dimple tugging in his cheek. “You’re welcome. Now we’d better get ready. I can change in the bathroom, unless you’d like to freshen up first?”
“Yes, please. I think I smell like chili dogs.” She crinkled her nose. “I’ll just take the dress and the other things in there with me,” she told him, quickly gathering them up. “I won’t be long.”
Jack glanced at his watch. “I hate to rush you, but it’s almost twenty after,” he said.
Jack Maris had never known a woman who could be ready in five minutes. Nancy and her endless fussing over her appearance had caused them to be chronically late.
He changed into his suit and paced the length of the room once. Then he went to the closed bathroom door and raised his hand to knock, planning to tell Tess he would meet her downstairs. He didn’t want to keep his new partner waiting. The door opened before he could knock, however, and Jack’s eyes widened at the sight that greeted him.
“Ready,” she announced. She gave her head a little shake that sent copper-colored curls dancing.
He sucked in a sharp breath. None of the fantasies he’d had about her hair matched the reality. It corkscrewed nearly to her waist in rivulets of molten lava.
“I took down my hair,” she said needlessly when he kept staring at it. “I can put it back up. I just thought—”
“No, no,” he interrupted her, his voice a little gruff. “Leave it down. It’s…” Then Jack noticed the dress. The woman whose firm curves filled it out so nicely needed no flounces, ruffles or sequins to compensate for—or camouflage—any shortcomings. Perfection, he thought, as his heart picked up speed. She was sheer perfection.
“Tess. I…” His voice trailed away along with his train of thought, and whatever he had been about to say was swallowed up by the awkwardness of the moment.
He watched as color suffused her face. She seemed to look everywhere in the room but at him, and Jack wondered what had possessed him to stand there gawking at her as if he were some pimply-faced schoolboy on a first date. This wasn’t a date at all, he reminded himself, although it was difficult to ignore the sexual attraction that had his blood heating.
Finally, his tone crisp and businesslike to compensate for the erotic thoughts he’d been entertaining, he said, “Come on, let’s go get this over with.”
Tess followed Jack through the beveled-glass doors of the Saint Sebastian’s dining room and looked around. With the exception of an older couple seated near the rear of the restaurant, most of the faces were unfamiliar. Most likely out-of-town guests, she decided, wondering who she and Jack were there to meet. She smiled at the diners seated at each table they approached, eager to look the part of a happy bride-to-be, but Jack just kept walking. He walked past the young couple enjoying linguini in the booth near the wall. Past the dark-suited businessman scribbling notes on a yellow pad of paper. Past the trio of middle-aged women sipping coffee and eating cheese-cake. That’s when she knew, and her stomach felt as if it had dropped to her feet. She snagged Jack by the arm and tugged him to a halt.
“Wh-what is it?” he asked.
“The Fausts,” she replied in a hushed tone. “You didn’t tell me we were eating dinner with Ira and Cora Faust.”
His eyes widened as his face bleached of color. “Please tell me you don’t know them.”
“Everyone in Pleasant River knows them,” she whispered frantically. “They’re the city’s first family, so to speak. They sponsor just about everything that goes on around here, from the Christmas pageant to the annual blueberry festival. I was Miss Blueberry twice in high school. Ira Faust crowned me, for heaven’s sake!”
At any other time, Jack thought, he might have been amused by the quaint image her words brought to mind, but with the beginning of a nasty headache pounding behind his eyes, he could only groan. Briefly, he considered turning around and slinking out. Later he could make up some excuse. But Ira took away that option by calling out, “Look, dear, here they are.”
Jack sent Tess a pleading look, then plastered a smile on his face as they joined the Fausts at their table.
“Good evening, sir. Sorry to have kept you waiting.” He turned to the plump, silver-haired matron who was seated next to Ira and said, “This must be your lovely wife. It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”
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