Fool Me Once (2 page)

Trying
to ignore the sudden quickening in her pulse, she turned back to her friend.
“Who’s that with Alex?” she asked, adopting an air of casual nonchalance. “He
doesn’t look familiar.” She nodded toward the two men.

“Oh,
that’s a friend of Alex’s from the States. Apparently they’ve known each other
for years.” Justine looked at her friend. “Would you like me to introduce you?”

Olivia
stepped back, where she could study the approaching men without appearing
obvious. “Oh no. No thanks.”

“Livvy,
whyever not? He’s really very nice.”

“I’m
sure he is.” She took another look at the American. No-Jive’s words were oddly
prophetic. ‘Who knows, maybe you’ll meet an exciting new man.’ This one
certainly qualified. He was new. And exciting. But she resented her editor’s
suggestion and was suddenly overcome by the need to escape. “Listen, Justine. I
hope you don’t mind, but I think I’ll go home early. Let’s get together
sometime this weekend and have a proper visit. Maybe an early morning ride?”

“Perfect.
How about tomorrow?” Justine touched her arm lightly. “Are you sure you’re all
right?”

Olivia
nodded. “Of course.” Her composure was slipping and she gave her friend a quick
kiss on the cheek. “See you in the morning.”

* * *

Olivia
walked quickly through the house, exiting by the kitchen entrance. The large
Georgian mansion was almost as familiar to her as her own home. From this side
of the house, the only sign that a party was underway was the collection of
automobiles parked around the cul-de-sac at the front of the house.

The
familiar trail that connected Haversham Hall with her parents’ home skirted the
greenhouse. Olivia paused in the open door, breathing in the heavy, humid air.
The atmosphere wrapped around her like a comforting shawl and she drew in a
deep breath. Here in the greenhouse, life could not be rushed. Seeds germinated
and plants bloomed in their own time; a comforting concept in today’s frantic
world. She leaned back against the potting bench and pressed slender fingers
into her temples. Watching Justine’s transparent joy when Alex came into view,
a surge of envy had washed over her and she’d been ashamed of her thoughts.
Today, for the first time, her total involvement in her career hadn’t been enough
and she’d found herself adrift and achingly alone. Which explained why she’d
experienced such a visceral reaction to the American. Thank goodness she’d had
the presence of mind to get out of there. The last thing she wanted was to
tangle with a man who’d made her think wicked thoughts from just one glimpse.
With any luck, he’d be gone by tomorrow.

Calmer
now, she pushed away from the bench and wandered farther down the aisle toward
her favorite section. Suspended at the end of graceful stems, orchids hung like
lush tropical jewels. In her teenage years, when Olivia first started observing
Alex’s mother in the greenhouse, she’d been too impatient to appreciate the
orchids that Daphne painstakingly cultivated. She’d preferred the
quick-flowering annuals–their showy splashes of color appealing to her own
vibrant nature. She paused to admire a white orchid, bending closer to examine
the delicate freckling at its throat.

* * *

Josh
Morgan stood silently in the doorway of the greenhouse. Alex had pointed it out
earlier, indicating that he was welcome to visit it at any time. It was a large
building, built in the early 1900s of thick glass and supported by a sturdy
metal frame.

What
drew his attention now wasn’t the riot of plants, although he glanced around with
interest at the permanent display. No, what interested him was the tall woman
in the pale green dress, her coppery hair glowing in a shaft of sunlight that
pierced the tangle of leaves overhead. Her back was turned, and he studied her
slowly, his gaze lingering on a long, tanned leg, and then sliding up over her
buttocks. She bent to examine an orchid, the fabric clinging to her slender
body, revealing subtle curves that were deliciously feminine. Her breasts,
while not large, were high and firm. His fingers tensed, his throat went dry
and for the first time since he’d arrived on English soil he began to doubt
himself.

‘There’ll
be none of that,’ he told himself brusquely. The success of his mission
depended on Olivia MacMillan. He felt a twinge of guilt at what he was about to
do. But it was necessary. He hadn’t come halfway across the world to get
involved. It wasn’t in his nature to be deceitful, but this was different. This
was payback.

Shoving
those thoughts to the back of his mind he forced himself to smile. He needed to
convince her to accompany him to the Mediterranean.

* * *

“Phaelanopsis.”
Olivia stilled. His voice was exactly as she knew it would be–deep and
resonant, with an underlying suggestion of heated sexuality. She straightened
slowly, turning to face him.

“Are
you an orchid expert?” She tilted her chin, a deliberate challenge in her tone.

A
slow grin raised the corner of his mouth and he took a step closer. “Busted.
That’s the only one I know.” His eyes took inventory of the plants on either
side of the aisle and came back to rest on her face. “But it is lovely.” His
gaze lingered on her lips and she turned back to the flower, wondering if he
could see the pulse pounding at the base of her neck. This was ridiculous! She
didn’t even know the man.

“I
apologize for intruding like this.” He closed the distance between them,
filling the space between the benches. With a sudden flash of insight, Olivia
knew that he was a man who could be comfortable in any situation. Surrounded by
an aura of quiet confidence, he epitomized the alpha male, with the emphasis on
male.

She
clutched at the edge of the bench, wondering briefly what had happened to her
normal composure. “You’re not intruding,” she countered with a sideways glance.
“But I think we should introduce ourselves.” She extended her hand. “I’m Olivia
MacMillan. Justine and I are old friends.”

Her
hand disappeared in his. His grip was firm. “Josh Morgan. A friend of Alex’s.”
His hand was like the rest of him. Large and competent.

She
looked into his eyes. They were a dark chocolate brown, shot through with warm
glints of amber. “Josh Morgan. That sounds like a name in an American western.”

He
tipped an imaginary hat. “That’s me, ma’am. Your all-American cowboy.”

“You’re
kidding, right?” She retrieved her hand. “You aren’t really a cowboy.”

“Why
not?” He cocked a dark eyebrow. “It’s one of the most honest professions in the
world.”

“Yes,
I’m sure it is, but…” She stopped abruptly. “I’ve never met a cowboy before.”

He
grinned. “Then you should come to my ranch some time. Although I confess the
real cowboys are the men who work my spread.” He shrugged. “Some days the only
riding I do is the chair in my office.”

Olivia
nodded. “You have my sympathies. I’d be content if I never had to go near an
office again. It’s… I don’t know… it’s suffocating.”

He
looked at her appraisingly. “I feel the same way. That’s what’s so great about
living on a ranch. When they coined the term ‘wide open spaces’ I think they
had Montana in mind.”

She
liked the way he spoke.

“‘Big
Sky’” She leaned against the bench opposite him. “When I first heard that term
I envisioned skies so blue they hurt your eyes. Is it anything like that?”

“It’s
better.” His voice was like a caress. “Where I live, the Rockies dominate the
western sky. When the light hits them just right, it takes your breath away.”
He looked down at her. “Of course you could explain it better. You have an
amazing gift for writing about what you see…what you feel.”

“You’ve
read my work?”

“I
just said I did.” His eyes flashed. “You don’t believe me, do you?”

She
regarded him coolly. Too many men before him had falsely claimed to read her
work.

“Boy,
you’re tough. Okay. Let me think. I read your article a few months ago about
the inner workings of casinos. You also wrote a very touching follow-up piece
on Lockerbie and how that air disaster has changed the community. And more
recently I read the stories about the Afghani women.” He shook his head and a
subtle change came over him. “Although when I finished reading the last story I
thought perhaps you should have called it ‘One Step Forward, Two Steps Back’,
instead of the other way around.”

“You
understood!” She smiled up at him. “Thank you for reading between the lines.”
She sobered. “It’s a strange, violent place.”

Olivia
saw a flash of pain in the dark eyes. “What was it like over there?” he asked,
his voice little more than a whisper. “Was it rough?”

Sensing
that her reply was important, she thought for a moment. “Yes, it was rough, but
I was so involved with the story that I can’t honestly say I noticed. The heat
and the dust were unpleasant, but somehow when you believe in what you’re
doing, you forget all about creature comforts. The most difficult thing was
gaining the confidence of the women I wrote about, getting them to talk freely.
Fortunately I had an excellent interpreter.” She smiled crookedly. “I apologize
for not believing you. It’s just that…” she shook her head. “Never mind.”

“Come
on.” His tone was part teasing, part serious. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

She
pretended to study a spray of orchids, gathering her thoughts. “It’s just that
I’ve met some people who pretend to have read my stuff when in fact it’s
obvious they haven’t.” She regarded him openly. “What are you doing here,
Josh?”

“Alex
invited me.”

She
waved away his reply. “No… I mean here. What are you doing in this greenhouse,
talking to me? There are plenty of young women at the party who would welcome
your company.”

Something
molten shifted behind his eyes. “I have no interest in those other women.” His
eyes roamed boldly over her body. “Whereas you…you’re different.”

Oh
yeah…this one was dangerous. She tossed her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. You
don’t even know me. Besides, you can’t just walk in here and throw a few
compliments my way and expect me to fall at your feet.”

“Oh?”
A smile flirted with the corners of his mouth, and then moved to his eyes. “Why
not?”

Olivia’s
thoughts churned. “Because I’m a grown woman who knows her own mind, and I’m
not interested in a relationship right now.” She cringed inwardly. That speech
was so pathetic!

“Well
that suits me fine, because neither am I.” He still lounged casually against
the bench. “I simply want to hire you. I want you to pose as my fiancée.”

Chapter Two

A
bucket of cold water would have had the same effect. As a matter of fact, it
would have been preferable.

“Excuse
me?” Her eyes widened. “You want me to do what?”

“Okay,
so it wasn’t much as proposals go, but I’d like you to travel with me to the
Mediterranean and act the part of my fiancée.” The dark eyes assessed her
reaction.

“Your
fiancée.” She snorted audibly. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I’m
very serious.” He inclined his head toward the doorway. “Come on, let’s take a
walk. At least hear me out.”

Olivia
glared at him, but her feet moved of their own will. “I don’t know…”

He
followed her out, and she could feel him watching her every movement.

“I
was on my way home.” She turned onto the path and he matched his gait to hers.
The sun had set, leaving the countryside bathed in a surreal pink glow. Birds
flitted from tree to tree, searching out a roosting site for the night. Josh
remained silent, wisely allowing her time to digest his unusual proposition.
Because that’s what it was…a proposition. How dare he refer to it as a
proposal? Her spine stiffened.

“I
can’t see any reason why I’d agree to your…your idea.” She glanced at him out
of the corner of her eye. “Anyway, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe
not to you.” He opened a gate, waiting for her to pass before slipping through
himself and checking to ensure it was closed. “But it makes a lot of sense to
me.”

“Then
by all means. Enlighten me.” They rounded the end of a hedgerow and her family
home came into view.

“I
like to gamble.”

“You
and a lot of other people.”

He
looked at her impatiently, then continued. “As I was saying, I like to gamble.
High stakes poker, to be more precise.”

“What,
no baccarat?”

“Oh,
I play baccarat as well, but I prefer poker.” He shot her an exasperated look.
“Are you going to let me finish?”

She
rolled her eyes. “As far as I’m concerned you’re already finished. But sure, go
ahead. Continue.”

He
bowed from the waist. “Thank you. You know, you’re rather hostile for a
fiancée.”

“I’m
not your…” The whole conversation was so ridiculous, it was funny. She stifled
a giggle. Where had that come from? “Go on,” she said as sternly as possible.

“It’s
really quite simple. I need someone who knows their way around the Casinos in
places like Monte Carlo and Marbella. That’s you.”