Rent A Millionaire Groom. Judy Christenberry
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He raised his eyebrow again, still not convinced it wasn’t a trap. Too many women had seen his millions as a ticket to easy street.
“I meant I want you to come to the wedding as my pretend fiancé. I only need you until after the wedding. I like being single. I have my career. It’s only a pretense!”
She sounded desperate, he’d give her that. But he didn’t see why it would be so important to her…unless she had an ulterior motive. “Why is it necessary?”
“Look, I… Oh, never mind. It was a crazy idea. I’ll figure out something.”
Now it was his turn to reach out and stop her from rising. Was he crazy? He was backing away from the exit sign. “Just explain. You owe me that, at least.”
Her cheeks were red from what might have been embarrassment and she kept her gaze lowered, denying him the sight of those beautiful green eyes. A strand of hair, curling slightly, had escaped the clasp and dangled beside her cheek, urging him to tuck it behind her ear. Most of all, her full pink lips, without lipstick, trembled.
“I’m tired of being harassed,” she muttered.
“Harassed? By whom?”
“My family!” she almost shouted, her eyes blazing with what appeared to be anger as she finally looked at him. “They won’t leave me alone. I chose not to marry. Not to be a—a satellite to some man. I have my own career and I’m happy with my life. But they won’t leave me alone!”
The cold anger in his own heart eased slightly. He was beginning to believe her again. “What do they do?”
“You mean other than calling me every day to suggest I’m a loser old maid with no prospects?” she returned, sarcasm having replaced the anger.
“Every day?”
“I have six sisters plus my mother. And she has two sisters. My grandmother died last year, so she can’t join in—but she would if she could.”
“No wonder you weren’t enthusiastic about large families,” he said, relaxing a little more.
Tears pooled in her eyes. “I love my family. But—but they’re driving me crazy!”
Leaning forward, he captured her hands in his. “But, Elise, this would only be a temporary solution. Then what?”
“You don’t understand. It’s the prospect of a wedding that stirs them all up. And this is the last wedding. Every sister will be married. There won’t be any more weddings on the horizon to get them excited. Chance, my brother, certainly won’t be marching down the aisle. So if I can just get through this one, I’ll be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. I don’t see them all that often. For several months after the wedding I can tell them you’ve gotten a role in Hollywood. Then I’ll tell them we can’t marry because you’re always gone. It’s simple.”
James didn’t quite believe her last statement. But the prospect of pretending to be Elise’s fiancé had some appeal for him. A great deal of appeal, actually. He was fascinated by her emotion, her soft lips, her green eyes.
Recognizing a danger signal when he saw it, he let go of her hands and sat back. “When is the wedding?”
“In three weeks. That would be enough time to—to learn about each other, wouldn’t it? I mean, I can write out everything you’d have to know.”
Her scholarly approach tickled him. She thought she could write a report and they could convince everyone they were lovers? He grinned. “Well, now, I’m a method actor, sweetheart. I’d have to spend time with you to do a good job.”
The reluctance on her face assured him he’d been wrong about Elise Foster. She wasn’t trying to marry him. She didn’t even want to date him. Which only made her more attractive.
“Spend time? How much time? I mean, I have my classes and office hours and grading papers. I can’t—”
“Evenings, Elise. I have work to do, too. But we could spend a few evenings together, have dinner, talk…you know, like a real couple.”
She looked lost. He understood. He hadn’t dated anyone on a regular basis in years. He hadn’t been comfortable enough with a woman to let her get that close. Was he making another mistake?
“I suppose we could…spend a few evenings together.”
“Okay, you’ve got a deal.” He extended his hand across the table.
After hesitating, she put her hand in his. “But we haven’t discussed your fee.”
“That’s not necessary.” In fact, he was wondering if he should offer to pay her. There was an excitement singing through his veins, an enthusiasm for the days ahead that he hadn’t felt in some time.
“Of course, it’s necessary. I’m hiring you. How much would you be paid for your time if you were doing a play?”
He had no idea what Bobby would receive, so he guessed. “Union wages are a hundred and twenty a day.”
She swallowed. “Okay. How—how many times will we need to go out?”
“Oh, you don’t pay me for those evenings. That’s research. I’m responsible for research. You only pay for the time at the wedding.” He grinned, proud of his solution.
“No, that’s not right. The wedding will be three days, but I’ll pay half that rate for the evenings.” She gave an abrupt nod, firmness in her lips.
He thought she looked adorable.
He shook his head, trying to dismiss that thought.
“No? You won’t agree to half? Okay, I can pay full—”
“That’s not what I meant! That’s fine. What you said was fine. We’ll settle up after the wedding.” When it was over, he’d tell her who he really was. Payment wouldn’t be necessary.
“But won’t you need some money in advance?” She bit down on her bottom lip, and James longed to pull her to him, to touch her there.
“Uh, no, I’ll be fine.”
Her earnest, professorial look firmly in place, she said, “Look, James, don’t let your pride get in the way. I know teaching assistants don’t make much money. I’ll write a check for five hundred dollars and you keep a list of expenses.”
What could he say? He wanted that check. It was proof that she wasn’t after his money, wasn’t it? Not that he’d cash it. Instead, he’d probably frame it, to remember a certain green-eyed siren who had captured him…temporarily.
ELISE WAS UNSETTLED by her arrangement.
Or maybe she was unsettled by James’s insistence that their first research evening be tonight.
Not that she’d had plans. No, she had intended to go over her lesson plans for the next day. And there was a test she needed to grade. Normal activities.
Or maybe she was unsettled by the excitement filling her. This wasn’t a date! And even if it were, a date shouldn’t cause such interest. After all, a male friend was no different from a female one.
That blatant lie couldn’t sail past her truth alarm without ringing wildly. Okay, so sitting across from James Dillon, date or not, was a lot different from sitting with Phoebe and Daisy.
She didn’t shampoo her hair for Phoebe and Daisy.
Or shave her legs.
The phone rang.
“Hi,” Phoebe sang out, her voice cheery. “I met a man today.”
Elise gasped. She had? It must be catching.
“I’m going to introduce him to Daisy,” Phoebe continued.