A Pretend Proposal. Jackie Braun
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assessment. Her engaging grin probably had something to do with it.
“You think you have all the answers.” The charge was leveled too lightly to be an accusation.
“Do I now?”
“Just an observation.” She shrugged and reached for the wineglass she’d set on the coffee table.
“My guess is you were one of the things your friend missed about Michigan.”
“Well, we are BFFs.” Elizabeth smiled fondly.
That had come through loud and clear when he’d been introduced. As had her friend’s protectiveness. She might be as petite as Elizabeth, but Thomas got the feeling she would cheerfully scratch out his eyes if she thought he’d hurt Elizabeth.
Elizabeth was saying, “Long story short, she ditched a lucrative career in the corporate world for something she finds more personally satisfying.”
“Now she uses her power for good,” he teased.
“More like for the greater good.”
“I’d say it worked out for both of you, then. Does she, um, know about our arrangement?”
“Yes. BFFs, remember?”
“Right.”
Elizabeth nibbled her lower lip thoughtfully for a second. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” Thomas lifted his shoulders in a shrug. Because he felt the need to remind himself, he told her, “That’s whole the point of this evening, Elizabeth. We’re supposed to be getting to know one another. So, ask away.”
“Do you … are you …? It’s just that Mel is very …” She let out a bemused laugh and readjusted her headband. Before it was back in place, blond hair cascaded about her face. He liked it better that way. “This is really awkward.”
Which made Thomas all the more intrigued. “Why don’t you say it fast, like pulling off a bandage?”
“Okay.” But she still took a moment during which she sucked in a deep breath. “It’s just that, to me at least, Mel seems more your type. Yet, when you met her earlier today, you didn’t pay very much attention to her.”
More his type? Hmm. Thomas supposed that, except for her petite stature, Mel Sutton was in league with the sort of women he tended to date. At least her physical appearance. She was sexy and beautiful. Oddly enough, he hadn’t been attracted to her. And even if he had been, since he’d gone to Literacy Liaisons to see Elizabeth, his pseudofiancée, it would have been impolite to openly ogle her friend.
“I didn’t mean to offend her,” he began.
Elizabeth shook her head. The band loosened again. “You didn’t offend her. I was just surprised that, well, that you didn’t—”
She stopped abruptly. Thomas had a feeling he knew why. Now, he was a little offended. “That I didn’t what, Elizabeth? Hit on her?”
“Well, no.” She moistened her lips, readjusted her headband again.
He was tempted to pull it off completely. He didn’t care for the prim look. He liked her hair better loose so that, if he wanted to, he could run his fingers through it.
“Then what?”
“Okay. I did think that maybe you would … hit on her, to use your term. And, quite frankly, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”
Oh, he was definitely offended. “Because I’m a lecherous pig.”
She blinked at his bald statement. “No! It’s just that Mel’s gorgeous.”
“So?”
On a frown, she asked, “Are you going to sit there and tell me you didn’t notice?”
“No. I’m not blind, so, sure I noticed, just like I would notice a gorgeous sunset or a stunning piece of artwork. I appreciate beauty in all things. Everyone does. That’s human nature. But I am capable of some restraint, you know,” he finished dryly.
He thought that would be the end of it. Subject closed. It wasn’t.
Chin notched up, Elizabeth declared, “Just so you know, Mel is every bit as pretty on the inside as she is on the outside. She’s not merely an attractive package.”
“Even if she is a packaging engineer.”
His attempt at a joke fell miserably flat.
“Mel is smart and funny and generous, not that most men ever figure that out or even bother to try.”
Her vehement defense of her best friend might have been touching if it hadn’t also highlighted Elizabeth’s own insecurities.
“So are you … every bit as pretty on the inside as you are on the outside, from what I can tell.” Indeed, the more he saw, the more he liked. And the more attractive he found her to be.
That disturbed him a little. What was it his dad had said just prior to going on one of his drunken binges? That he’d fallen in love with Thomas’s mother not in spite of her quirks and imperfections, but because of them.
Elizabeth was quick to disagree with his assessment. “I’m not pretty. I’m not ugly or anything, but …” She fiddled with the headband again. “I’m rather plain.”
“Plain?” Did she really think so? With that lush mouth and those rich, dark eyes? Not a chance. He might be out of line, but he reached over and tugged the headband free, tossing it on the coffee table like a gauntlet. A cascade of satiny tresses fell forward, all but obscuring her face before he pushed them back. “From where I’m sitting you’re very pretty,” he challenged.
A blush stained her cheeks as she fiddled with the stem of her wineglass.
It had been a long time since Thomas had been around a woman who became flustered from a simple compliment. “By the way, Elizabeth …?”
“Yes?”
“I’m not most men.”
AS IF she needed reminding on that score. Quite frankly, Thomas was unlike anyone she’d ever met—personally or professionally. And that was saying a lot given all of the doors upon which she’d knocked during the past several months to raise funds for the endowment.
She still wasn’t quite sure how to act around him in part because their relationship was professional and personal at the same time. It didn’t help that she found him so appealing. But that was superficial. It was based on sexual chemistry, she reminded herself. Beyond his good looks and his love for his grandmother, what did she truly know about him? If she was to pull off her part as his fiancée—and that was her only motive here—she needed to know more about him.
Much more than that she found him too handsome and charming for her peace of mind.
Besides, she’d rather he be the one in the hot seat.
“You know, I just realized that while I’ve been telling you a lot about myself, I don’t know nearly enough about you except that you matriculated from Michigan and have the good sense to be a fan of Alfred Hitchcock.”
“What else do you want to know?”
Where to start? Favorite color? Favorite dessert? Where he went on his last vacation? How old he was when he stopped believing in Santa Claus? Benign topics, all, and definitely the sorts of things a fiancée should or would be expected to know.
But the question she heard herself ask was “When did your last relationship end?” Followed quickly by “You’re not involved with someone right now, are you?”
Last night, Thomas hadn’t kissed like a man who was stepping