Can't Buy Me Love (7 page)

All three heads turned in her direction and three perfect smiles immediately curved upon their perfect, but surprised faces.
Somehow Paige smiled in return. She entered a stall and tried to ignore them.

“
As I was saying,” Janice said loud enough for Paige to hear. “Tomorrow is supposed to be a great day for tennis.”

“
Yes,” Husky-Smoker brightly agreed. “It’s supposed to be cool in the afternoon and not too breezy. A perfect day for tennis.”

D
etermined not to let these women get the best of her, Paige stepped from the stall and went to the sink to wash her hands.

“
Do you play tennis, Paige?”

She turned
, for the first time noticing that Cherry Holiday was one of the women in the lounge area. And from her voice, Paige knew that Cherry had taken up for her. Cherry’s pale green eyes were filled with sincerity. But the other two...Paige met their gazes in turn. They weren’t interested in playing tennis with her. They were interested in finding out more about her relationship with Blake. Paige wouldn’t be set up for anyone’s entertainment. Not theirs, not Blake’s. No one’s.

“
No,” she said, drying her hands on a towel. The one word absolved Cherry of her self-imposed responsibility of friendship and helped Paige save face.

Paige turne
d on her heel and left the restroom. She would show them. She would show them all. She would be the best professional wife in the history of marriage.

****

“Are they buying it?” Blake asked as Noah slipped into place between him and the potted palm, close to the refreshment station, close to the champagne cocktails. They were a far cry from whiskey, but they would have to do.

“
It’s hard to say. Some of the women think it’s romantic, but for the most part, everyone is still making up their mind.”

Blake snorted, then took a drink of the whiskey substitute.
“I don’t know what I was thinking. If I wanted everyone to believe we were really married I should have bought her a diamond. I should have taken her on a honeymoon.” He lifted his fluted glass to the ceiling. “Here’s to you, Aunt Virginia. You wanted to make sure I knew my place, and I do. But it’s been bought and paid for, so it’s mine.” He raised the glass to his lips and drank deeply.

“
Blake, what are you talking about?”

“
I’m talking about this.” He swept his arm in front of him. “Don’t let her talk about goodness and love fool you. Aunt Virginia wanted me to know that everything I have, I have because of her, and this is how she did it: by making me marry and by making me pretend it’s all for real. She’s got me jumping to her tune, and everyone in this room knows it.”

“
So change what they’re thinking. Go get your wife and dance with her. Kiss her and take her home before you drink so many of those cocktails you can’t find your way.”

“
You’re right, as always.” Blake handed Noah his half-empty glass. “That’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Blake fou
nd Paige coming out of the restroom, a determined look on her face. That was bad. New brides should look radiant, not determined.

“
Dance with me,” he demanded, half expecting her to refuse and embarrass him, but she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her onto the floor.

The song was slow and soft, and he pulled her close merely swaying to the flowing melody.
At first she was tense, a nervous bundle in his arms, but inch by inch she relaxed into him until she laid her head against his chest.

It was...nice...yes, nice, to hold her this way and to dance with a woman who didn
’t try to lead or didn’t contort her neck around to see who was close, and if they were watching them. Paige danced with him, only him, and he liked that. He shouldn’t, but he liked it anyway.

“Where did you learn how to dance?” The words slipped from his lips without a second thought from his brain. Her steps were graceful and practiced, but he was certain there wasn’t much call for ballroom dancing in the jungle.

“You’re little investigation didn’t turn that up?”

“If it did, do you think I would be asking?”

“My father taught me. We didn’t have a television or movies, but we had a radio. He would play it at night, and we would dance together. He told me that one day—”

She faltered, and Blake waited patiently for her to continue. “One day learning to dance would come in handy.”

“And it did.”

A
s the strains of the song faded away, Paige lifted her head and met his eyes.

Blake gazed into their depths and knew it was a mistake.
But something there compelled him, and it wasn’t their unusual color. It was...it was...something else. He wasn’t quite sure what.

Slowly he lowered his head.
He would kiss her now for all to see, then he would take her home. He breathed in her special perfume that wasn’t like any of the designer scents that wafted about the room. Her skin smelled of the pink bar of soap that sat in the shower next to his own, and her hair was scented with herbal shampoo he had found there as well.

Then his mouth met hers, and the world changed.
Her lips were soft beneath his, soft and pliable and parted. She went to his head with more force and speed than a double shot of whiskey. His tongue touched the part of her lips then deftly slipped inside. She melted against him, her body molding to his as they stood in the middle of the dance floor locked in an unbreakable tango of arms and mouths.

Blake lost the initial purpose of the embrace and kissed her deeper and deeper until no thought existed at all.
Passion for her roared like a fire through his blood, through his brain, and was joined by another loud murmur that filled his ears. He held Paige a little tighter. Her soft hands pushed their way between them, over the lapels of his tuxedo jacket and around his neck.

Tuxedo jacket...The reality of time and space returned to him with shocking clarity.
They were at the ball. And he was kissing her in front of almost one hundred witnesses. He pulled his mouth from hers and set her away from him.

All eyes in the room were upon them.
Even the orchestra had not resumed playing and instead watched the pair. The murmur he had heard surely had been the many voices of those around them speculating to one another about the kiss they witnessed. The doubts surrounding their marriage were slowly fading away. He succeeded and made them believe, but much more had happened in the process.

Blake slipped one hand in his pocket to conceal the surprising effect Paige had upon him and with the other escorted her off the dance floor and to the refreshment table.
He needed a drink and badly.

****

“I told you to kiss her and take her home, not kiss her and ignore her. Paige has been lurking in the fringes since your dance.”

That had been at least three quarters of an hour ago, and still the blood pounded in Blake
’s veins.

“
What would you say if I told you that I’m attracted to her, and I can’t take her home? That if I do, I’ll break the contract and make love to her all night long?”

“
I’d say that you’ve had too much champagne. You never did have a head for the stuff.”

“
No,” Blake agreed, but he was thinking of Paige.

“
Blake, you’ve got to come out of this corner and be seen with your wife. You can’t kiss her like that and then just walk away. Not if you want everyone to believe you married her for more reasons than your bank account.”

“
I had to walk away,” he said grimly, then drained the champagne from his glass. “If I had held her any longer, I would have shocked all of Chicago by making love to my bride on the ballroom floor.”

Noah shook his head.
“No, you wouldn’t have. You’ve just been working too hard. Stress can do that to a man.”

It was apparent Noah didn
’t understand the allure that woman had. Hell, Blake didn’t understand it himself. But he had known about it from the first time he had looked into her eyes and felt himself drowning.

“
Go get your wallflower,” Noah commanded. “Take her home. It’ll all seem different after a good night’s sleep.”

Blake pushed himself off the wall and placed his empty champagne glass on the tray of a passing waiter.
Noah was right. Ignoring Paige because he was attracted to her was no answer.

And it couldn
’t really be an attraction. How could he be attracted to her? She was...well, medium. And the women he usually dated weren’t. They were worldly and beautiful and had manicured nails. He wasn’t attracted to Paige. It was the champagne. It was the lighting. It was the pressures at work and the stress of the will and getting married that had caused his knees to buckle when his lips met hers. Nothing more than stress.

With a renewed confidence, he tugged on the lapels of his tuxedo.
He would get his wife and take her home.

Blake scanned the outer edge of the dance floor where he expected Paige to be.
People milled about, talked to one another, nibbled on crab puffs and caviar, sipped champagne, and pretended to have a wonderful time. Though he caught several people’s gazes and waved to them as he studied their midst, he saw no sign of Paige. He looked over the edge of the room, but again he found no sign of his wallflower wife.

Incredulously his gaze swept the dance floor.
Once and again until he saw her medium blond head, dancing among the highly lacquered hairdos of the guild supporters. From this distance, Blake caught a whiff of familiarity. The man she danced with was taller than she, around six feet, with broad shoulders and long brown hair tied into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. When he turned her in time to the music, the chandelier up above lit the sequins of her dress and the flash of a diamond in the left ear of her dance partner.

“
It can’t be,” Blake muttered to himself, then realized he had spoken aloud. He really must have had too much champagne. He never talked to himself. But then if Paige was dancing with whom he thought...

Blake moved through the crowd, a little closer to his wife and her dance partner.
The man turned and the light from above shown full on his face.

Why now
? Blake asked himself, refusing to mutter the words aloud again. Why here, at the ball, on the night he wanted to make society believe he had married his wife for more reasons than his inheritance, did the one person who could blow it all out of the water have to show up?

*
***

“
Did you know your eyes are the color of the Caribbean Sea and just as dangerous? A man could drown in their depths.”

Paige laughed and searched her mind for a sophisticated answer, one that sounded like she had heard compliments all her life.

Blake tapped her partner on the shoulder and saved her the trouble of a witty response.

“
I’m afraid I’ll have to cut in.” He reached for her with a possessiveness she thoroughly enjoyed.

Forget it
, she told herself
. He just doesn’t want you to make a fool out of him again like you did earlier, hanging all over him and nearly melting in a pool at his feet when he kissed you.

“
This dance belongs to me.” Her dance partner gathered her into his arms again.

“
I don’t think so.” Blake reached for her again.

“
Surely you won’t deny me this. You’ve already denied me the privilege of kissing the bride.”

“
Perhaps we should go somewhere and talk.” Blake’s words were frosty with control.

Her partner smiled, his white teeth gleaming in his bronzed face.
“I’ll just finish my dance with your wife.”

“
Now.”

He shrugged.
“Whatever you say, big brother.”

“
Brother?” Paige looked from one man to the other.

Her partner
’s eyes were true brown instead of the hazel green of Blake’s and his nose had more of a hawkish tilt, but all in all their likeness in physical features was so uncanny that she couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it right away. But then after Blake’s scorching kiss, it was a miracle she could remember her own name.

Her partner took a small bow, then raised her hand to his lips.
“Devin Caldwell at your service.”

Chapter Seven

“Let me guess. You came home because they closed down the beach in Rio.”

At Blake
’s words, Paige looked up from the muffin she was buttering and glanced to her breakfast companions.

“
I’d been away too long. It was time to come home and get in touch with my roots.” Devin smiled innocently at his brother.

Blake snorted.
“Ran out of money, did you?”

The younger man placed a hand over his heart.
“You wound me, brother. Do you think me so callous and crude that all I care about is money?”

“
Yes.”

To Paige
’s surprise, Devin’s smile deepened, turned wicked. “So how much did the old bat leave me?”

Blake glanced to Paige, then turned his gaze back to his brother.
“A million.”

She had to hand it to Devin.
Somehow he managed to keep the smile on his face even if it was a bit strained now. Deserving or not, with an inheritance as large as Blake would receive, one million dollars was a pittance.

“
I don’t suppose I should expect more than that.”

“
No,” Blake agreed. “She didn’t have to leave you anything.”

Devin
’s brown eyes darkened until they were almost black, but he said nothing.

Paige looked from him to Blake whose expression softened.
Compassion was one of the many traits she admired in her temporary husband. It showed in his work, in his interest in his employees, in his regard for his eclectic household staff. And it showed now in his concern for his prodigal brother.

“
A couple of good investments and you’ll be set for life.”

Devin shook his head before Blake could even finish.
His smile turned cryptic. “No, bro, that’s not the way I operate. Bad investments and fast women are more my style these days.”

“
They’ve always been more your style. Why, Devin? Why waste your life on booze and women?”

Devin raised a dark brow.
“My, aren’t we the saint all of the sudden?”

“
I’m a married man now.” Blake’s voice held the hard edge of warning.

“
Yes.” Devin’s sharp gaze scraped over Paige. She knew he compared her to the other, more beautiful women that had paraded in and out of Blake’s life in years past. She saw the skepticism in his expression, as if he didn’t believe in the marriage any more than she and Blake did. But the worst of it all, Paige herself knew that she didn’t measure up, and she never would.

“
Wonders never cease.” Devin picked up his muffin and his tone and turned back to his brother. “I guess I’ll just take the money and run, as they say.”

To Paige
’s amazement, Blake flushed as his fancy education deserted him when he needed it to tell his brother the truth. “You haven’t been informed of the terms of the will?”

Devin
’s jaw tightened, but otherwise he showed no outward signs that he didn’t like the way the conversation had progressed. Paige knew that once all was told, he would like it even less. “Your marriage and Aunt Virginia’s death reached me through the rags, not through an attorney.”

Blake sat silent for a moment.
“By the terms of the will, you have to work at Caldwell for twelve months before you will inherit.”

Devin was the poster child of self-control.
He sat for a moment his gaze boring into his brother’s as if the simple act could change what had been long done, then he threw back his head and laughed.

“
Leave it to Aunt Gin to get what she wanted in the end. She told me she would. I just never thought she’d actually do it.”

“
You’re not upset?” Paige asked.

Devin turned his sparkling brown eyes to her.
“Sweetheart, I’m mad as hell, but there’s nothing I can do about it. We all have our crosses to bear.” He turned his attention to Blake. “But if she was willing to make me work, just what did she make you do?”

Blake
’s gaze flickered to Paige, an action she hoped Devin had missed. No such luck.

“
So it’s true. She made you marry for your money.”

“
It’s not what you think,” Paige and Blake said simultaneously.

“
Oh, it’s exactly what I think. The old bat hit upon our worst fears—commitment and work—and then she played them in her favor.”

“
She may have,” Blake acquiesced. “But Paige and I have a business deal. We’ve taken great pains to make our marriage look real in the eyes of society. I’d appreciate you keeping the knowledge to yourself. Not even the household staff realizes that our marriage isn’t real.”

Devin looked at the heavy band of gold that encircled Paige
’s finger, then to the identical one Blake wore. “It doesn’t get any more real than this. So how did Dancy take the news of your marriage of love?”

“
Don’t ask.”

“
That bad, huh?” His tone was flippant, but Paige could tell his mind was working on other possibilities concerning his inheritance. His need for money flared in his eyes as easily and clearly as his temper. “I suppose our dearly departed auntie also forbade you to help me in any way if I didn’t accept her terms.”

Blake nodded.
“She took it personally when you didn’t return from the Riviera all those years ago.”

“
I was busy.”

“
Yes, I recall,” Blake returned dryly. “What was her name?”

“
Darla, I think. Maybe Darlene.” Devin shook his head. “It’s been too long ago for me to remember.”

“
You can’t remember the name of the woman who cost you your inheritance?” Paige couldn’t believe her ears.

Devin simply flashed that same white upon bronze smile she was sure had dazzled and frazzled women of every nationality.
“Oh, I’ll get my inheritance, all right.” He turned his attention back to his brother. “So just when do I start at the sweatshop?”

****

Paige tucked her book under one arm and Bruno under the other, then started down the stairs. Another day, another afternoon by the pool tanning her reluctant skin and reading her way through the best seller list.

Bruno turned his enormous brown eyes up to her as she sighed in anticipated boredom.

“What do you suppose all the other the wives of multi-millionaires do in their spare time, huh?”

The poodle stared at her, but offered no
answer.

“
They probably attend posh teas and play rousing hands of bridge between their sets of doubles tennis.” She sighed again, remembering the conversation that took place around her, though without her, at the fund raiser the night before. “Well, no, thank you. That isn’t the life for me.” Still, it would have been nice if someone had offered to teach her to play tennis, or even invited her to watch, or go shopping afterwards.

Stop dreaming
. If she ever needed to know the difference between herself and the women Blake usually associated with, last night was the perfect example and a lesson she’d best not soon forget.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the phone rang.
Paige set Bruno on the polished hardwood floor and picked up the receiver.

“
Caldwell residence.”

“
Paige?”

She faltered, not expecting to hear her name coming across the phone lines.
“Yes?”

“
This is Cherry Holiday. Do you remember me? We met at the opera benefit last night.”

Paige was stunned beyond words and didn
’t answer. Why would the petite blonde be calling her?

“
Hello? Are you there?”

“
Yes, I’m here and yes, I remember you.”

“
Have I called at a bad time?”

“
No, not at all. I—”

“
Good. I just wanted to tell you that you had the most
exquisite
dress at the party last night, and in a fashion show like that...Well, your dress was just marvelous, and...and...well, I know it’s part of the Caldwell line, but I haven’t seen anything like it in the stores.”

“
I ma—” Paige broke off. She was a millionaire’s wife. A multi-millionaire’s wife. She couldn’t tell Cherry Holiday that she had made the dress herself. It was unheard of in Blake’s social circle. “Uh...a friend designed it.”

“
Of course. A friend from Caldwell.”

“
Of course,” Paige said before she could stop herself.

“
Oh.” The word was small and speculative as it came through the phone. “Well, you see, Bill has a state dinner next week, and that creation you wore last night was just beautiful. Maybe there’s something similar to it in the new line?”

Paige faltered for the second time since answering the phone.
She could make Cherry a dress, but Paige didn’t think it would go over well with Blake if he found out his wife was designing dresses for the very people he was trying to deceive. Cherry’s defense of her the night before rose to the surface in her mind. And this could be the answer to her boredom. Making a dress for Cherry Holiday would certainly take up some of the lay around time that she had found herself an abundance of.  Then Blake’s scowl rose to her mind’s eye. Paige pushed it aside. She could do this. Who said Cherry had to know that
she
made the dress?

“
My friend is very...private, almost reclusive. But I’m having lunch with her tomorrow.” At least that part wasn’t a lie; she had called Maddie for a lunch date, but the rest was pure fabrication. “Give me your measurements, and I’ll see what I can do,” she said in a doubtful tone. She danced a little happy jig careful not to step on Bruno.

As Cherry rattled off her measurements, Paige jotted down the numbers in the margin of her sketch pad, her mind already altering patterns and selecting colors.

She hung up the phone and stood for a second, smiling like an idiot.

“
Is everything all right, madam?” Holmes came around the corner and down the hall toward her.

“
Everything is perfect.” She scooped Bruno into her arms and kissed the stunned butler on his wrinkled cheek. “Just perfect.” Then she snatched up her book and floated up the stairs.

“
Shall I have Dancy serve your lunch by the pool?” Holmes called after her.

“
What? Oh. Thanks, but I think I’ll stay in today.” She turned and raced to her room, the butler’s classic “As you wish,” following after her.

****

“Mr. Caldwell wanted me to tell you that he’s home now.”

Paige looked up from the emerald green silk.
Julie, the timid ex-hooker-turned-upstairs maid stood in the doorway surveying the mess with her bashful gaze. Sketches were scattered across the bed and the floor was littered with scraps of green silk and the sparkle of matching, blending, and contrasting sequins.

Paige stood in the middle of the mess in green, holding the half
-finished dress. “He’s home early.” Then she glanced at her watch. With a gasp akin to horror, she faced the shy maid once again. “It’s six-thirty!”

“
Yes, ma’am.” Julie ducked her dark blonde head as if somehow the time was her fault.

Paige ran to the bed and began scooping up her designs as carefully as the waning time would allow.
“I’ve got to get dinner ready. I’ve got to clean up this mess.” She placed her drawings in their usual dresser drawer, then looked with renewed horror at the white carpeted floor liberally scattered with threads and scraps of green. “He can’t find all of this here.” She fell to her knees and began picking up the tiny flecks.

Julie dropped to the floor beside her.
“Mrs. Caldwell,” she said in her soft, almost child-like voice. “I’ll clean up. You go ahead and cook dinner. I would, but I’m not a very good cook...” her voice trailed off, and she ducked her head again.

“
You’d do that for me?”

Julie raised her gaze to meet Paige
’s. “That’s why I’m here. I’m a maid. Cleaning is my job.”

Paige smiled sheepishly.
“I guess I’m just not used to having people around to pick up after me. I’ve always done things for myself.”

“
Is that why you didn’t hire a cook after Sylvia left?”

Paige stood and dusted off the knees of her jeans.
“Yes, I suppose so,” she admitted, then looked down upon herself. “I don’t even have time to change.”

Julie looked up at Paige, her large brown eyes almost as adoring as Bruno
’s. “I think you look just fine. Go on now, and fix your man his dinner.”