Rent a Millionaire Groom (7 page)

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Authors: Judy Christenberry

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“This—” He pulled her against him and kissed her deeply, pressing her to his body. He didn’t know how long they kissed, but it wasn’t long enough. However, the sound of the door opening broke them apart. Elise stared at him, her green eyes wide. He dropped another kiss on her lips and hurried away, just as her friends came out of the Madisons’ condo.

 

W
HEN
J
AMES CAME DOWN
to breakfast the next morning, MaryBelle was again at the table.

“Made muffins yesterday. That’s all you get for breakfast this morning, except for the sausage I just cooked. And juice and coffee, of course.”

He smiled. “Who could complain about that?”

“You, on some days. But since you found this woman, you’ve quit complaining. I assume that’s where you disappeared to, yesterday. Have a nice day?”

“How do you know I wasn’t at work all day?”

“Because they called looking for you.”

He frowned. “But you didn’t leave me a message.”

“They said not to. Figured if you were having a good time, you wouldn’t want to be bothered.”

He shrugged his shoulders. Before, he might have worried until he found out what the problem was. This morning, he decided it could wait.

“Looks like your brother found a girlfriend, too.”

“Bobby? You mean because he borrowed my car last night?” He picked up the cup of coffee MaryBelle had given him while they chatted.

She carried over a plate of muffins and sausage and set it in front of him. “Nope. Because his picture is in the paper.”

The implications of that occurrence took a minute to sift through James’s contentment. Then he set his coffee down with a thud, spilling some over the side.

“What? Where?”

MaryBelle tisked as she got up to get a cloth to wipe the table.

“MaryBelle, where’s the picture?” he demanded.

“I folded it and left it there by your plate,” she said calmly, before sitting down again. “She’s pretty.”

James grabbed the paper and opened it. The society column was filled with photos of couples posing for pictures. Several of them were couples dancing, one at a private birthday party for a local politician. But there were several pictures taken at the dinner honoring the president of a local bank. Next to the photo of the man and his wife and daughter was a photo of that same daughter—quite pretty, as MaryBelle had said—dancing with his brother.

James groaned. The only good thing about the picture was that the woman’s head completely blocked his brother’s face from the photographer. Underneath it, they’d written that Sandra Hall, daughter of the honoree, danced with her escort for the evening, local actor Bobby Dillon.

Maybe Elise wouldn’t see it.

The chances of that, when she’d already said she read the paper every day, weren’t good. But if she didn’t read the fine print under the picture, she’d never think that was him. He and Bobby looked
alike—but when all the camera caught was broad shoulders and dark hair, it could be any one of a hundred men.

“Isn’t she pretty?”

“What?” He looked up, startled by MaryBelle’s question. “Oh, oh, yes, she’s pretty.”

“Have you met her?”

He couldn’t remember if he’d been introduced to the young woman when he’d been at the school. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was whether Elise saw the paper.

“Uh, yeah, maybe.”

The phone rang.

He leaped to his feet and grabbed the receiver. “Hello?” he said.

“At least you’re awake this morning. That’s more than I was when the phone rang,” Bobby complained.

“What are you talking about?”

“The strange phone call I just got.” Bobby stopped to yawn.

“Bobby, tell me about the call.”

“A woman called. Asked for you. I told her you weren’t here. She wanted to know where to find you. Sounded angry, bro. Did you do some lady wrong?”

“Did you give her this number?”

“Yeah. Sorry if you didn’t want that.”

About that time, he heard the beep signifying another call. “Uh, no, that’s fine. I think this is her now. You didn’t say anything else?”

“Hell, no. I was barely awake.”

“Okay, thanks, Bobby.” Then he clicked the button to take the next call. “Hello?”

“James?” a cold voice asked. “Morning, Elise. How are you?”

Silence. Then she said, “We need to talk.”

“I’ll be right over. It’ll take a few minutes—”

“No. Meet me at the coffee shop in half an hour.” And she hung up.

Chapter Seven

She’d made a mistake.

In fact, Elise figured she’d made so many mistakes in the past few days, she didn’t have enough fingers to count them.

The worst one was underestimating James’s ability to act. All those kisses yesterday had her drifting into a fantasyland where he wanted her, cared about her, tempted her.

And it had all been a sham. The photo had proven that. He’d left yesterday afternoon because he’d had a hot date that night. Had she already told her sisters about her “fiancé,” her ruse would’ve been revealed.

How humiliating it would’ve been if one of her sisters had called the picture to her attention instead of Phoebe. She and Daisy had converged on Elise’s apartment this morning.

Usually they walked to a nearby church for services, so Elise had suspected nothing when the two of them had arrived. But the frown on Phoebe’s face, the sympathy in Daisy’s eyes, had alerted her.

She took a booth in the coffee shop, ordering a diet cola and a roll while she waited for James. She’d
planned her speech carefully. After all, the idea had been a crazy one, so the fault was hers. She felt no anger toward James, she assured herself as she crumpled her napkin into a tight ball. No anger at all.

James came through the door, a frown on his handsome forehead, and spotted her at once. He waved the hostess aside and hurried over to join her.

“Coffee, sir?” the waitress asked as soon as he’d sat down.

“Uh, yeah, thanks.” He looked at the roll on Elise’s plate. “And bring me one of those.”

“Elise—” he began.

“Good morning, James,” she said stiffly.
Remember, no anger at all.
“Thank you for finding the time to meet with me. I think we’d better rethink our plan. If—”

“No, that’s not necessary,” he protested.

She drew a deep breath. “Perhaps from your point of view it’s not necessary, but I find it not only necessary but urgent.”

“Let me explain.”

“That’s not necessary. As I was saying, if you haven’t incurred expenses that exceed the five hundred dollars I’ve already paid, I think we should dissolve our agreement.”

He opened his mouth to argue, she supposed, but the waitress arrived with his cup of coffee and roll.

Trying to remain calm, to show none of the hurt she didn’t want to admit, she said, “I appreciate the effort you’ve put into our little scheme, but perhaps you can look upon it as a learning experience.”

He reached across the table to grasp her hand. She tugged on it, determined to be free of him, and her
elbow knocked over her cola. Rivulets of the drink rushed to the edge of the table and fell right into Elise’s lap, like a dark waterfall.

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed, sliding out of the booth, trying to dab at the liquid with her tightly wadded napkin.

“Here, let me help,” James urged, using his napkin to wipe her skirt.

The waitress hurried over, along with a second employee, both wanting to help, too. In no time, everyone in the restaurant was staring at them.

Elise closed her eyes. She wanted to be somewhere else, anywhere else. She wanted to turn back the clock to the day she got the brilliant idea to hire James Dillon. She wanted to be heart-whole, again.

“No!” she exclaimed, stopping all the activity around her.

“But, ma’am, if we get the excess liquid mopped up, maybe it won’t stain,” the waitress explained.

“No, I know. It’s fine. The dress is washable. I’ll go home at once and wash it. It doesn’t matter. That’s what I meant. It doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll come with you,” James assured her. “I’ll help.”

The two waitresses raised their eyebrows, obviously imagining James helping her disrobe, Elise decided. Great. Now her reputation would be ruined. Or enhanced. It depended on how a person looked at it.

“No, thank you. I’ll manage.”

“But we haven’t finished talking,” he protested.

“Oh, yes, we have. If you have any more expenses, you can mail them to me.” She tried to keep
her voice brisk, businesslike, instead of sounding as if she was about to burst into tears.

“Damn it, this isn’t about expenses!” James shouted.

“Yes, it is!” she returned in a hoarse whisper, hoping not to draw too much attention to herself, though that was a ridiculous concern at this point.

“Elise!” a young woman just coming in screamed.

She couldn’t believe her luck. Her next youngest sister, Melanie, had entered the coffee shop.

Her sister ran to her side, giving her a quick hug. “Oops! You have an accident, big sister?”

“I spilled my cola. Don’t make a big deal, Mel. I’m on my way home to wash it. So if you’ll excuse me—”

“Hi, I’m glad to finally meet some of Elise’s family,” James said, his deep, silky voice filling her with foreboding. She knew what was coming next, but she couldn’t think fast enough to avoid it.

“Hi,” Melanie said with a smile, her gaze roaming James’s impressive physique and handsome face in appreciation. “Who are you?”

“I’m your sister’s fiancé, James Dillon.”

Elise wanted to slug him.

 

E
LISE’S SISTER SCREAMED
. “No! Oh, how wonderful! Elise, you rat! You never said a word. And here we were all worrying about you. How long? I mean, when is the wedding?”

“There’s no—” Elise began, clearly hoping to straighten things out before they got worse.

“She says there’s no hurry. I think she didn’t want
to draw attention from your youngest sister’s wedding, so we’re waiting until after that event,” James explained, wrapping his arm around Elise’s shoulders and smiling at Melanie.

“Heck, Mom will be so ecstatic, she won’t care when the wedding is. She’s been so worried about Elise. She never—well, at least, that’s what we thought. Elise, you sly creature!”

James ignored Elise’s glare. She wasn’t being terribly cooperative, but he’d worked with uncooperative people before. “Look, she’s pretty uncomfortable being the center of attention—and having a big wet spot on her dress, so we’d better go, but it was great meeting you. I’ll see the rest of you at the wedding.”

He reached in his pocket and tossed a twenty down on the tabletop. The waitress, still standing there, said, “I’ll get your change, sir.”

“No need. Thanks for your assistance.” Then he rushed Elise from the shop.

Elise went along with him, much to his relief, until they were outside the coffee shop. Then she dug in her heels like a stubborn mule.

“Come on, Elise, let me take you home so you can change,” he urged.

“This is my car. I’ll take myself home, thank you very much, you—you Benedict Arnold!”

“Benedict Arnold?” he asked, his eyebrows slipping up. “I haven’t betrayed you. I did exactly what you hired me to do.”

“We’d agreed to call it off!”

“No,
I
hadn’t agreed. And you had refused to listen to me. That was unfair!”

He almost grinned at the frustration on her face when she ground her teeth and glared at him. He asked, “Are you sure you’re calm enough to drive?”

“I’ll be a lot calmer when you let go of me and go away,” she assured him.

“Okay, I’ll get my car and follow you home.”

“Don’t bother! I never want to see you again.”

She twisted out of his hold, ran to her car, and, before he knew it, had driven away.

He thought about following her, but he decided it would be better to wait an hour or two until she’d calmed down. Besides, he needed to talk to Bobby.

His brother was sitting at the kitchen table talking to MaryBelle, finishing off his uneaten breakfast, when James arrived home. He snagged the last muffin off the plate just before Bobby’s hand reached it.

“Hey, I was going to eat that!” Bobby complained.

“Tough. As much trouble as you’ve caused me this morning, I should at least get a little breakfast.”

MaryBelle looked surprised. “But I thought you were having breakfast at the coffee shop near the campus.”

“I thought I was, too, but I didn’t even get a sip of coffee.”

“Their service has always been slow,” MaryBelle said, nodding her head in sympathy.

“It wasn’t the service. We had a—a little disagreement.”

“With your new girlfriend?” his housekeeper asked in consternation. “Does that mean you’re going to start growling again?”

“New girlfriend?” Bobby asked at the same time.

James sat down in a chair. “MaryBelle, could you bring me a cup of coffee? I need caffeine.”

“You’re dating again?” Bobby asked, as MaryBelle moved to respond to his request.

“Sort of,” James answered cautiously. If Elise didn’t forgive him for Bobby’s newspaper appearance, he wasn’t sure she’d ever speak to him again.

MaryBelle put a cup of coffee in front of him, and he gratefully took a sip. “Umm, good coffee. Thanks, MaryBelle.”

“Your brother’s been seeing her for almost a week,” she told Bobby.

“Five days,” James corrected.

Bobby raised his eyebrows. “You’re counting the days? Sounds serious.”

“No!” James immediately answered, frowning. It wasn’t serious…just fun. And he hadn’t had fun in a long time. “Look, Bobby, I need you to promise me something.”

“What’s that? Not to flirt with your woman?” his brother teased with a grin.

“No, I want you to promise that you won’t get your picture in the paper for the next two weeks, especially with your arms around another woman.”

“Another woman? You mean someone other than Sandy? That won’t happen. She’s the only lady for me.” Before James could answer, he added, “I’m thinking about asking her to marry me.”

“No! No, don’t do that!” James roared.

“Hey, she’s wonderful. What do you have against her?” Bobby half rose to his feet, anger on his face.

James held up a hand. “Nothing! I’m sure she’s
lovely, Bobby, but if you propose, the next thing you know your picture will be back in the paper.”

“What’s this hang-up you’ve got with me getting a little publicity? That’s what actors do,” Bobby said, frowning.

James sighed and took another drink of coffee. “It’s a long story.”

MaryBelle and Bobby looked at each other and then at James. “We’ve got time,” they said together, and waited.

 

T
HE PHONE RANG AGAIN
.

Elise groaned and hid her head under the sofa cushion. The first two calls had come while she was in the shower after stripping off the stained dress. Her mother and one of her aunts had already heard the news. They couldn’t wait to meet James. Melanie had told them how handsome he was.

When she’d played those messages, she hadn’t known what to do. Before she could decide, the phone rang again. Afraid to answer it until she’d worked out a plan, she listened to one of her sisters gush about the news.

This last one was Sharon, her baby sister, calling to let her know she’d added James to the guest list, of course, and she’d reserve a room for him at the Hilton in Flagstaff, where the wedding would take place.

When the doorbell rang just as her sister hung up on the answering machine, Elise was sure it had to be more relatives—maybe her father, demanding details. But she had to answer the door, because the person kept pounding on it.

“I’m coming,” she called out, hoping her visitor hadn’t drawn her neighbors’ interest. She swung open the door and then tried to close it again.

James Dillon, the source of all her difficulties, wouldn’t let her. “Come on, Elise, let me in so we can talk. You need to hear what I have to say.”

“Why bother? You spoke too much at the coffee shop.”

“Please?” he asked, still holding the door open.

She heard another door open down the hall and she didn’t want an audience for their conversation. “Fine. Come in.”

James entered the apartment and closed the door behind him. “Will you listen to me?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No. Sandy is an old family friend. I promised several months ago to escort her to the party because—because she and her boyfriend broke up, and she didn’t have anyone to take her. She said it would be humiliating to go without an escort.”

She stared at him, saying nothing.

“It’s the same thing I’m doing for you, only I did it because I’m her friend, not for money.”

“Bully for you,” Elise grumbled.

“Look, I didn’t even know they were taking pictures. Her mother told them who I was. The picture was as much a surprise to me as it was to you.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it could’ve ruined everything if I’d already told my sisters about you,” she pointed out.

“Why? You call me James. They wouldn’t have connected the two since no one could see my face.”

It irritated her, but he had a point.

“If they ask questions, I’ll tell them Bobby is my younger brother.”

Elise reminded herself what a good actor he was. He sounded so sincere that even she believed him, and she knew he was really Bobby. Oh, yeah, he’d definitely be a success in Hollywood. He was as fake as the town itself.

“When are you moving to Hollywood?” she abruptly asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Aren’t you moving to Hollywood, to find better roles? That’s what every actor has in mind, isn’t it?” She squared her jaw in stubbornness.

“What does that have to do with our situation?”

“Nothing. I just wondered.” She wondered how she’d remember that he was playacting. She wondered how she would protect her heart. She wondered if she was going crazy.

“Please, Elise, let’s continue the charade until after your sister’s wedding, just like we planned.”

“No, I—”

The phone interrupted her.

She sat on the couch, waiting.

“Aren’t you going to answer it?”

She glared at him just as her mother’s voice came from the answering machine. “Darling, I just happened to think. Why don’t you bring James to dinner on Wednesday night? Your father wants to meet him, and we’ll be so busy at the wedding we won’t have a chance to get to know him. Call me back as soon as you can. I’ll need to know his favorite foods. Bye.”

“Your mother knows?” James asked.

“My family can spread gossip faster than a speeding bullet. Superman has nothing on them,” Elise said, her voice filled with frustration. “That’s Mother’s second call. All six sisters and one aunt have already—”

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