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For a minute it almost looked as if she might balk, but then she finally nodded.

At her acquiescence—albeit reluctant—Richard felt the oddest sensation in his chest. It felt a whole lot like relief. Or maybe elation. He couldn’t be sure. It
wasn’t a sensation he’d ever experienced before. That was happening a lot lately.

 

Melanie’s head was spinning. She had just agreed to pose as Richard’s almost-fiancée for the foreseeable future. There was no question in her mind that this was going to be a role she could handle by making an occasional appearance by his side in public. He was going to insist that she give it her all to make it believable, at least to one person. Unfortunately for both of them, there was also little doubt that Destiny was going to be a hard sell.

So why try? Melanie asked herself that repeatedly on the drive back to her office. Why had she agreed to this? Because she’d felt guilty over that stupid item in the morning paper? That hadn’t been her doing. Because she had some insane idea that this was the only way to get Destiny to leave them alone? Richard might be convinced of that, but she wasn’t. Not entirely, anyway. So, what was the real reason?

Because some teeny-tiny, totally insane part of her wanted it to be true. Even as the thought crept in, she was shouting no-no-no to herself as emphatically as she possibly could. The noise was so loud in her head, she barely heard the cell phone when it rang. Relieved to have an excuse to turn off her own chaotic thoughts, she punched the button on the dash that put the call on speaker.

“Yes,” she barked.

“Show time,” Richard said.

“What?”

“We’re having dinner with Destiny tonight.”

“How did that happen? I just left you ten minutes
ago. Word couldn’t have gotten back to her that quickly.”

“I called,” he told her without the least hint of regret. “Preemptive strike.”

“Are you crazy? I haven’t even gotten used to the idea. I’ll bungle this.”

“Just follow my lead. I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear something glamorous. Destiny likes to dress for dinner.”

He hung up before Melanie could get a vehement objection to cross her lips. What was he thinking? Maybe he figured it was like swimming—better to toss her into the deep end to test her mettle than to wishy-wash around in the kiddie pool for weeks.

If she was going to do this, she needed help. She punched speed dial for her office.

“Becky, I need you to meet me at Chez Deux in ten minutes.”

“Why?”

“I’ll explain when I see you. Dig a charge card out of the office safe.”

“Which one?”

“The one with the biggest credit line,” she said grimly.

 

Under other circumstances, Melanie loved to shop. Not that she was ever extravagant, not with a comparatively new business to run, but she loved clothes. Chez Deux with its line of secondhand designer clothes suited her budget and her desire to dress for success. Normally, however, she was picking suits off the rack, not evening wear. If she forgot the reason for this shopping expedition, it could still be fun.

She found a parking space a block away, then
trudged carefully over the cobblestone sidewalks to avoid the occasional patch of leftover ice.

“Hey, Jasmin,” she greeted the owner when she got to the classy little shop, which accepted consignments from many of Washington’s best-dressed women.

“Ms. Hart, how nice to see you,” Jasmin Trudeau said. “We have some lovely new suits in your size.”

“Not today. Today I’m looking for something a little fancier, for a formal dinner party.”

The petite woman’s eyes lit up. “Then the rumors are true,
n’est-ce pas?
I saw the story in this morning’s paper.”

Melanie wanted to deny it, but Jasmin was one of the city’s biggest sources of socialite gossip. If Melanie declared the story entirely untrue, it would be all over town by evening, pretty much defeating this charade she and Richard were embarking on.

“I am having dinner with Mr. Carlton tonight,” she admitted, leaving it at that.

“Then you must look your very best. I have just the thing,” Jasmin said. “It came in only yesterday. I have not even put it on the rack yet. One moment and I will get it for you.”

Becky arrived just then, looking harried and curious. “What on earth is going on?”

“I’m buying a dress,” Melanie said.

“I got that much. What kind of dress and why?”

“A fancy, expensive dress. I need the fortification.”

Becky stared at her blankly. “Huh?”

“Let me get this over with, and I’ll take you out for a long leisurely lunch, so you can tell me I haven’t completely lost my mind.”

Becky hid her disappointment and silenced her questions as Jasmin reappeared with a strapless dress in bronze satin.

“This dress was made for you,” Jasmin said. “Do not look at the price. If it looks as fabulous on you as I think it will, you will not care what it costs.”

Melanie was already itching to slip the rich fabric over her head. She took it gingerly and headed for a dressing room. In seconds she had stripped off her clothes and slipped the dress on. Only when she had it zipped up did she risk a look in the mirror. “Oh, my,” she whispered. She felt like Cinderella after she was outfitted for the ball, not quite like herself…or maybe more like herself than she’d ever been before.

“Hey, stop hiding in there and get out here,” Becky commanded. “Jasmin and I are dying of curiosity.”

Melanie stepped out of the dressing room. Both women’s eyes widened.

“You look
fabulous
,” Becky said.

“Mr. Carlton will not be able to resist you,” Jasmin added, as if that were a bonus.

Before Becky could ask what the heck the other woman meant by that, Melanie said quickly, “I’ll take the dress.” Jasmin had been right. She didn’t care what it cost. Whatever it was, it was a small price to pay to walk into Destiny’s house tonight feeling confident as she and Richard launched this charade. And she could always have it cleaned and bring it right back here on consignment to recoup some of the cost, though something told her she would never give it up.

Once she’d added an outrageously expensive jeweled purse, she signed the credit-card slip without giv
ing it a second glance. Maybe if her accountant turned a blind eye, she could figure out some way to turn this into a business expense.

When the transaction was completed, she took her purchases to her car. Becky trailed along behind, muttering a barrage of questions that Melanie determinedly ignored. Only when her packages were stowed away and they were seated in a nearby restaurant with coffee on the table and salads on the way did she finally look her friend in the eye.

“You have to promise that you will never breathe one single word of what I am about to tell you,” she told Becky. “Not one word. Not to your own mother. Not even to a lawyer, a priest or anyone else sworn to uphold your confidentiality.”

Becky solemnly crossed her heart. “My God, Melanie, what have you done? You didn’t kill Pete Forsythe, did you?”

“No, though in retrospect, that might have made more sense than this.”

“Then you saw Richard?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And he was furious?”

“About as furious as I anticipated when I told you I was going over there this morning to try to head off an explosion.”

“Did you figure out who leaked the story?”

“He’s convinced it was Destiny.”

“His own aunt?” Becky said incredulously.

Melanie nodded. “It gets worse. He’s also convinced she won’t be happy until he and I really are involved, so he’s decided we need to pretend that we are.”

Becky blinked hard, then her expression slowly
changed to comprehension. “That explains the dress.”

“Yep. We’re having dinner with Destiny tonight.”

“You actually went along with this?” Becky asked, sounding incredulous. “You’re going to lie to a woman who befriended you?”

“A woman who befriended me with ulterior motives,” Melanie corrected. “It’s a fine point, but an important one.”

“Oh, brother.”

Melanie met Becky’s gaze. “Am I crazy?”

“Probably.”

“Is there any way this can not go horribly wrong?”

“Not that I can see,” Becky said, sounding surprisingly cheerful.

“Why are you suddenly finding this so amusing?” Melanie demanded.

“Because you are both so obviously delusional.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Richard thinks he’s doing this to get even with his aunt, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re doing it out of some misguided sense of guilt, correct?”

Melanie nodded.

“Ha!”

Melanie frowned at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re both doing it because you want it to be true. He wants to be involved with you. You want to be involved with him. Neither of you is willing to be honest about it.” Becky took a little bow. “You’re welcome.”

Melanie gave her a sour look. “I didn’t thank you.”

“You should have,” Becky told her. “It’s the most honest thing that’s been said at this table since we sat down.”

Melanie opened her mouth to deny it, then snapped her mouth shut again. There had been enough lies and half-truths and deceptions floating around today.

“This really is going to be a disaster, isn’t it?” she said eventually.

Becky nodded without hesitation. “That would be my assessment, yes.” She gave Melanie a sympathetic look. “You could still fix it.”

“How?”

“Make it real.”

“No. Neither of us wants that.”

Becky rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Richard doesn’t want that and I’m almost certain I don’t, either. We hardly know each other, but I do know he’s a man who’s not in touch with his feelings, he’s still a potential client and he’s stodgy. Those are all things that make him bad for me.”

“You’re hopeless,” Becky said. “At least I’m in touch with my feelings.” She grinned. “Jason is groveling, by the way. It’s lovely.”

“Good for Jason.” She gave Becky a defeated look. “How am I going to fix this?”

“You’re obviously not, at least not the mature, intelligent way, since you won’t acknowledge the truth. That means you have to go with the flow.”

“I’m lousy at going with the flow,” Melanie reminded her.

Becky grinned. “I know. That’s what’s going to make this so much fun to watch.”

Chapter Eight

R
ichard rarely questioned his decisions once he’d made them. Having second thoughts was the mark of a man who didn’t know his own mind, and he prided himself on his clarity of thought. Or he had until today.

Now that the dust had settled over that ridiculous rumor in the morning paper, he realized that talk would have died down in a day or two with no real harm done. That was how he should have handled it, simply let it go away of its own accord. Instead, he’d turned it into this big charade that was going to turn his life inside out for weeks, maybe even months to come.

He’d gotten caught up in the heat of the moment. He’d wanted to pay Destiny back for her meddling. He’d wanted to go on spending time with Melanie without having her underfoot professionally. That was
both unfair and insulting. He was surprised she’d gone along with it. She should have told him to take a hike. He couldn’t help wondering why she hadn’t. Maybe she was suffering from the same momentary lunacy that was affecting him.

Now he’d gone and compounded his mistake by deciding to drag a perfectly nice woman into his aunt’s web of intrigue, when he should have been doing everything in his power to keep the two of them as far apart as humanly possible. His head pounded just thinking about what dinner was going to be like.

Hoping for backup, he picked up the phone and called his brother Mack.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the newly proclaimed Romeo of the family,” Mack taunted when he heard Richard’s voice.

“Go to hell.”

Mack laughed. Mack was used to having his name bandied all over town, linked with a different socialite each time. Richard was not.

“As soon as you’re through enjoying this, I have a favor to ask,” Richard announced grimly.

“Anything,” Mack said, instantly sober. “You know that. Should I go over to the paper and put the fear of God into Pete Forsythe? I’ve been dying to have a legitimate excuse for a long time now. Unfortunately, most of what he reports about me is true. The man’s a menace to the privacy of all bachelors.”

“Not worth getting your knuckles roughed up,” Richard said.

“I wasn’t planning to resort to brute force, despite my reputation from the football field,” Mack said, sounding wounded that Richard thought so little of him. “I can be intimidating in other ways.”

Richard chuckled despite his lousy mood. “Believe me, I am aware of that. Actually, though, I was hoping you’d back me up at Destiny’s tonight. Intimidate her a little.”

“Oh, no,” Mack said. “She is obviously on one of her matchmaking tears. When she gets this way, I prefer flying under her radar.”

“Believe me, she’s going to be too busy focusing on me tonight to worry about you,” Richard told him. “I’m taking Melanie Hart to dinner.”

Mack whistled. “Oh, brother, you are living dangerously, aren’t you? Or is something really going on between you and this woman?”

“There is nothing going on,” Richard assured him. “But I want Destiny to think otherwise.”

“Why the hell would you want that?”

“I’m hoping Destiny will back off if she’s convinced I’m doing exactly what she wanted,” Richard explained. “And if you tell another living, breathing soul I said that, I’ll make sure that Destiny tries to hook you up with the most avaricious, impossible female in this entire region. Believe me, I know some of the worst. I’ll give her a list of candidates guaranteed to make your life miserable.”

“Speaking of intimidation,” Mack said quietly, “you’re not bad at it yourself.”

“Thank you. Will you be there?”

“How could I possibly refuse such a gracious invitation to dine with my family?” Mack said with a sarcastic bite to his voice. “Are you calling Ben?”

“No, I think you’ll do for now.”

“But baby brother might enjoy this,” Mack objected. “He’s never seen you on the ropes before.
We’ve always thought you were invincible, afraid of nothing.”

“Very amusing. Besides, Ben doesn’t enjoy anything that means he has to leave his farm in Middleburg and stop brooding for an entire evening. On top of that, he’s too honest for conspiracies.”

“And I’m not?” Mack inquired with a touch of indignation.

“Not even close. You thrive on them. That’s why you’re so good at using sneaky, clever tactics to lure the best, most unavailable football talent to your team,” Richard said. “Seven-thirty, okay?”

“Despite the number of times you’ve insulted me in this conversation, I’ll be there,” Mack promised. “Hope I can keep a straight face.”

“Consider the alternative,” Richard told him grimly.

After he’d hung up, he kept staring at the phone. He loved his brother. He knew Mack would go to the mat for him or for Ben, but an actor? No way. It was entirely possible he’d just made his second-worst mistake of the day. Apparently he was on a real roll.

 

Melanie had anticipated a barrage of last-minute instructions from Richard on the drive to his aunt’s. Instead, beyond an approving once-over and a friendly-enough greeting when he’d picked her up, he’d remained stoically silent. It was getting on her nerves.

“Don’t you think maybe we should go over our plan?” she asked finally.

He glanced at her then, the line of his jaw hard. “You think I actually have a plan?”

“I was hoping for one, yes. You have a reputation
for being very organized, for leaving nothing to chance.”

His laugh sounded forced. “So I do. Apparently it’s my day for doing the unexpected.”

“So there really is no plan,” she surmised, feeling suddenly queasy. She could wing it with a mob of reporters, but this? This was definitely not a situation in which she should be flying by the seat of her pants. Surely, Richard should understand that. She cleared her throat. “Um, don’t you think maybe we should stop for a second and get a few things straight?”

This time when he glanced her way, his gaze lingered. “You really are nervous, aren’t you?”

“Well, duh! What do you think? I am about to face a woman I like and respect and pretend that I’m falling for her favorite nephew. I anticipate a lot of questions. Don’t you?”

“I’m not her favorite. Destiny doesn’t have favorites. She’s always been very clear about that.” He grinned. “Mack and I both know it’s Ben. He has her artistic talent, if not her quixotic nature. Mack loves sports, which she doesn’t get at all, and she thinks I’m stuffy.”

“Okay, whatever,” Melanie retorted, not sounding remotely sympathetic. “The point is that we’re lying to her and we don’t have our stories straight.”

“Mack will be there. He’ll be a good buffer. He’s quite a talker. We may not have to say much.”

She stared at him in shock. “Oh, goody. I get to lie to your brother, too.”

“No, he gets that this is a sham.”

Her stomach dropped. “And that’s better? You expect him to lie, too?”

“No, I expect him to take some of the heat off of
us. Mack has a way of stirring Destiny up. You’ll see. It’s actually rather fascinating to watch.”

“Why on earth would your brother agree to be a party to this?” When Richard didn’t answer, she reached her own conclusion. “You bribed him, didn’t you? Or threatened him?”

He frowned at that. “Only in a brotherly kind of way,” he insisted as if that made it so much better. “I told him if he didn’t help, I could see to it that Destiny turned her misguided attentions on him.”

“And?” She knew there was more. There had to be.

“I might have hinted that I could influence the choice she made and that the woman might not be to Mack’s liking.”

Melanie regarded him with dismay. “Do you hate your brother that much?”

“Of course not,” he said, staring at her as if she were crazy.

“Then why would you even suggest such a thing, given how thrilled you are to be in this particular mess?”

“Misery loves company,” he suggested glibly.

Melanie merely buried her face in her hands and prayed for a quick end to the entire evening.

 

Melanie didn’t seem happy, which made two of them, Richard concluded as he pulled into the three-car garage at what had once been his home. The brick town house in Old Town Alexandria combined two old homes into one gracious enough for entertaining and big enough for the large family his parents had anticipated. It had black shutters and brass trim and
an occasional tendril of ivy that had escaped the gardener’s attention climbing up the pink brick.

In recent years Destiny had remained there as first he, then Mack and then Ben had moved into homes of their own. For the first time he considered that maybe his aunt was doing all this matchmaking craziness because she was lonely. Too bad he couldn’t fix
her
up. Maybe that would end this madness.

Unfortunately, even the thought of trying to turn the tables and hook Destiny up with some man made him smile. His aunt would not be amused. Her personal life was not a topic he or his brothers approached without serious trepidation. She always cut them off before they could complete their first query. He would have thought that a woman so tight-lipped about her own intimate secrets would be more careful about sticking her nose into his.

As he got out of the car, he took a second look at the flashy red convertible she’d bought recently and shook his head. It was entirely possible she was going through some sort of midlife crisis, though come to think of it the convertible suited her personality a whole lot better than the minivans she’d driven when they were boys.

“Your aunt loves that car,” Melanie noted. “I was with her when she bought it.”

He regarded her with surprise. “You were?” Then he recalled the rest of the story. “You were the woman who ran into her car that day and totaled it? That’s how the two of you met?”

Melanie winced. “I thought you knew.”

He shook his head. “This just gets better and better. I thought she’d met you on some committee or other. I figured she’d seen you doing PR and rec
ommended you because of that. Instead, she met you in a traffic accident.” He rubbed his now-throbbing temples. “It all makes perfect sense.”

Melanie blinked. “It does?”

“Sure. She really has gone ’round the bend. Instead of going in there and trying to convince her we’re involved, I ought to be trying to convince her to see a shrink.”

Melanie glowered at him. “Do you know how insulting that is? To both of us, in fact.”

He heard the anger in her voice and knew this whole evening was within a nanosecond of blowing up in his face. He forced a smile. “Sorry. My head hurts.”

“It should. Given the size of your ego, I’m shocked it hasn’t exploded.”

He grinned. “Nice one. Are we even yet?”

“Not by a long shot,” she said, sweeping past him. “Let’s get this over with.”

“By all means,” he said as he shut the garage door behind them, then led her toward the front entrance. The door was open and light was spilling out onto the street. “Mack must have beat us here.”

Sure enough, his brother was in the foyer and his aunt was chiding him for not wearing an overcoat.

“Destiny, I parked less than ten yards away from the front door,” Mack said, defending himself as if he were twelve, rather than a grown man. “It’s not that cold out. Besides, I have all this muscle.”

“Between your ears, mainly,” Destiny said, cuffing him gently. “I really thought I raised you with more sense.”

“You did,” Mack said, kissing her. “You made me the man I am today, no question about it.” He
grinned at Richard over her head. “Look who’s here. Big brother and his new girl.”

Destiny whirled around, a smile spreading across her face. She rushed forward and embraced Melanie with genuine affection. “Darling, I’m delighted you’re here. Don’t mind Mack. Too many sacks on the football field knocked out most of his manners.”

“I had fewer sacks than any quarterback in the National Football League,” he countered. “I’m very quick on my feet.”

“You were,” Richard agreed. “Unfortunately it only took one sack to wipe out your knee and destroy your career.” He pulled Melanie forward. “Melanie Hart, this is Mighty Mack Carlton, ex-football hero who is still reliving his glory days on the field every chance he gets, especially if it’ll help him score with some female.”

“A fine way to talk about your brother,” Destiny scolded, linking her arm through Melanie’s. “Pay no attention to either one of them. They’re barbarians. I’d disown them, if it weren’t too late.”

Mack grinned at her. “Destiny, there’s still time to change your will. You can leave all your money to your cats. Sad, lonely spinsters do that all the time.”

Destiny scowled. “I’m neither sad nor lonely, and I don’t own any cats.”

“Then get some,” Mack advised. “You’re going to need the company when you run all of us off.”

Destiny turned to Melanie. “See what I have to put up with? Consider this fair warning. If you continue going out with my nephew, you’ll find that we’re a tough crowd to love.”

Richard wondered if that was an out he could use.
While he was pondering the possibilities, Mack jumped in.

“Listen to her,” Mack advised Melanie. “Get out while you can.”

Melanie glanced toward Richard, her expression hopeful. She clearly wanted him to give her some signal whether this was indeed the moment she should cut and run for the nearest exit.

Richard winked at her. “Have a drink instead. It’ll make the rest of the evening more bearable.”

Between Mack’s teasing and Destiny’s quick retorts, Richard and Melanie remained safely off the hot seat at least through the appetizers. But when Destiny led the way into the dining room and seated Melanie right next to her and him at the opposite end of the long table, Richard knew the gloves were about to come off. There was nothing he could do to protect Melanie now. He hoped she really was quick on her feet with diplomatic evasions.

“Darling,” Destiny said to Melanie over the soup, “have I told you how delighted I am that Richard invited you to join us this evening?”

Melanie managed a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“The two of you have so much in common,” Destiny continued in the same slick tone she might use if she were about to sell her a used car.

“We do?” Melanie said skeptically.

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