Sweet Christmas Kisses (63 page)

He nodded toward the living room. “Shall we?”

Kim hesitated, as if weighing her options. “All right,” she replied with a sigh, “but don’t try coming on to me again or I’ll sic my dog on you.”

He agreed and followed her back to the loveseats, taking his previous spot.

“Now,” he continued in a business tone, “I want you to listen with an open mind until I’m finished.” He took a deep breath and braced himself. Might as well cut to the chase and get it out there. “I really do need you to move in with me for about a week...and pretend to be my wife.”

Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

The sudden chill in the air almost made him shudder as she sat up straight, mirroring the image of an ice sculpture he’d once viewed at the St. Paul Winter Carnival. Her wide blue eyes regarded him with skepticism and distrust. He studied her for a moment, wondering what to say next. Her blonde pixie cut, upturned nose and smattering of freckles fit the image of the proverbial girl next door. She’d probably make a great wife for the right guy one of these days. However, did she possess the skill to convince Zelda that she would be the perfect wife for him?

“Let’s have another drink.” Rock grabbed the bottle and began to pour, filling her flute. “I’ll start from the beginning.”

“Please do.” Her lips barely moved, the words slipping out in monosyllables.

“A couple months ago I became engaged. That was my first mistake.” He set the bottle down and clasped his hands together. “Then I told my mother.”

“What’s wrong with telling your mom? That’s usually the first person you call to announce good news.” Kim picked up her bubbling flute. “I gather you’re not engaged any longer.”

“No.” He rubbed his palm over his emerging five-o-clock shadow. “She didn’t work out.”

Kim didn’t comment, but her raised eyebrows suggested she didn’t empathize with someone who talked about breaking up with his future wife like a business deal gone bad.

“Okay, there’s more to it than
that
. She double-crossed me.”

“She cheated on you?”

“It’s on par with infidelity as far as I’m concerned.” His shook his head, still angry about it. “She obtained confidential information through intimate conversations with me and turned it over to my competitor. Of course, when I discovered the leak and confronted her, she professed extreme remorse. According to her,” he paused, replaying the scene in his mind, “by that time, she had allegedly realized she’d fallen in love with me.”

“What does all this have to do me with getting your vote?”

“I didn’t tell my family what happened once the engagement ended.” He gave a cynical laugh. “My mother would’ve been so disappointed she would have never let me hear the end of it.” Squaring his shoulders, he downed his drink in three gulps and set the flute on the table. “Now that the wedding date has passed and no one received an invitation, everyone thinks I eloped.”

Kim burst into incredulous laughter. “Why don’t you just tell them the truth, Mr. Chief Executive Hypocrite? You didn’t like being deceived, so why are you deceiving them?”

Because you don’t disappoint Zelda, he thought glumly. Especially the way things stood now.

“My mother’s heart is in bad shape. I’m afraid of what it would do to her if I told her what really happened. She’s so happy now that she thinks I’m married.”

“How is putting on a charade going to keep her happy? She’ll find out eventually and then you’ll have to account for lying to her, too.”

“She’s not going to last much longer, so I don’t see the point in causing her any more pain than she’s already bearing.” Rock grabbed Kim’s glass and consumed her champagne, wishing he could just tell his mother the truth. Unfortunately, life didn’t work that way. “If she’s going to die soon then all I want is for her to go happy.”

“You don’t actually believe you’re going to pull this off, do you? I mean, I’m not the vain, self-centered type that you date. I don’t know how to act haughty and spoiled. She’s going to see right through me.” Kim set her dog aside and stood up. “Forget it.”

Desperation fueled his frustration. Rock stood to his full height, towering over her. “Look, you don’t have to be my type; you just have to be by my side for a week. I’ve got everything covered.”

“
If
I agree to it, I’m not moving in with you.”

Heat began to build under his collar. “Oh, yes, you are,
darlin’
. The last time I checked that’s the way married couples operated.”

“But we’re not married. We’re not even working out at the gym together.” She rose up on her tiptoes and poked him in the chest with her index finger. “So if you think I’m going to sleep in the same bed with you—”

He leaned forward and grabbed her hand. A surge of attraction coursed through him as he covered her petite fingers with his broad palm. It threw him off guard for a moment, but the prospect of spending the night with her suddenly intrigued him. “What’s the matter, darlin’, are you afraid you might like sleeping with me?”

Her eyes narrowed as she jerked her hand away. “Get over yourself, Rock Henderson. What I’m afraid of is that you wouldn’t be able to control your ego long enough to last an entire evening without sex.”

“Don’t worry about that. You’re not my type—remember? I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Besides, before you know it, the week will be over. Look, I can’t disappoint my mother. If you want my vote, those are my terms. No
wifey
,” he pointed at her mutt, “no doggie.”

She clamped her jaw shut. After a few tense moments of staring him down, she said through clenched teeth, “When is
Mother
scheduled to arrive?”

His stomach churned. “She showed up this afternoon with her nurse.” He grabbed the champagne bottle by the neck, brought it to his lips and drained the last few drops. The champagne went down like water, but it did little to relieve his apprehension.

“I had no idea that she’d planned this visit. She decided to surprise me and lay over a few days in Minneapolis before flying to Vail to spend Christmas with my brother, Patrick. She wanted to meet my wife! I didn’t know what to do until I remembered my assistant telling me you had left messages with her saying that you desperately needed
my
help. So I decided to pay you a visit and see if we could strike a deal. I couldn’t get away earlier to talk to you about it because I had to take Mother out to dinner. I told her you couldn’t make it because you were out for the day shopping with your girlfriends.”

His BlackBerry suddenly buzzed. He glanced at the screen and turned it off. “It’s her. I’d better go. She’s probably wondering why it’s taking so long to get a newspaper. How soon can you change and come upstairs?”

She gave him a stubborn look. “I didn’t say I’d do it, yet. I’ve been looking forward to taking a vacation at Christmastime for years. Do you have any idea how long it took me to gain enough seniority at the hospital to get this week off? I have gifts to buy, parties to attend and lunch dates with friends. Playing house with you isn’t my idea of a vacation!”

“Yeah, but you did say that the fate of your residency here and all your long-time neighbors is hanging on my vote. You hold all the cards...”

“But, Rock, I don’t have the expensive designer clothes that your fiancé would wear. I live in scrubs and a lab coat. You know that.”

He shrugged. “The day I showed my fiancé the door, she departed in such a rage that she left some clothes in my closet—mostly things I bought.” He looked her over. “She’s taller, but you’re about her size. Just wear hers. They’ll look better on you than they did on her, anyway.”

He set the empty bottle back on the coffee table and headed for the door. Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, he turned back. “I’ll tell Mother you’re on your way home and due to arrive any minute. Oh, and by the way, your name is Diona Daye. Got that?”

“What?” She stomped across the room. “You mean I have to change my name, too? What are we going to do when someone sees me in the lobby and calls me Kim?”

“I don’t know. We’ll just make sure no one sees us together. At any rate, let’s concentrate on one issue at a time, like getting through the next hour or two.” He reached into his trouser pocket. “Here’s your security card for the elevator. It’s also my private entrance into the garage. You can move your car tomorrow.”

Something caught his eye. He glanced down as she slowly took the card. “Hey,” he remarked with a wide grin, “are those bunny slippers on your feet? I haven’t seen anyone wearing those since I was about ten years old.”

“Yeah.” She stuck out her chin. “Gee, is that a tux you’re wearing? I haven’t seen anyone show up for a meeting with me in one of those
ever
.”

She sure was cute, but he knew better than to verbalize it.

He opened the door a crack and peered out at the empty hallway before looking back at her. “My company Christmas bash is going on tonight at the Hilton. It’s too bad I had to miss my own party, but Mother didn’t feel up to going. It cost a small fortune.” He gave her a wink, determined to let it go and concentrate on the issue at hand. “See you in a few minutes,
Diona
.”

The throw pillow intended for his head hit the backside of the door as he slipped out and hustled toward the stairwell. Kim’s spunky temper felt like a refreshing breeze compared to Diona’s constant pouting. He exhaled absently; relieved that he’d caught on to Diona’s traitorous scheme before she’d caused too much damage to his company. Even so, she’d still managed to ruin his belief in marriage and proved beyond a doubt that he couldn’t trust anyone with either his deepest secrets or with his heart. He had no idea if he'd ever meet someone who would change his mind, but for now, he planned to live his life one day at a time, leaving the past behind.

He slipped into the stairwell and bounded down the stairs to make it to the lobby and get on his own elevator, all the while wondering if Kim would hit it off with Zelda or if his mother would see right through her pretense. Time would tell, but one thing seemed certain. No matter how well Kim played her part, it would take a miracle to get through this week—with both women.

Later that evening...

Classical music and soft lighting enveloped Kim as she stepped out of Rock’s private elevator and stared in amazement at the palatial opulence of her temporary home. Pivoting slowly, she took in the oyster white walls and black marble flooring of the circular foyer. A large drum table set with a vase of fresh flowers stood majestically upon an ice blue silk rug in the center of the room. Overhead, a chandelier of hand-blown glass held six shimmering candelabras between alternating scrolls of delicate rose-colored flowers and leaves.

She stared wistfully, taking in every detail of a privileged lifestyle she’d never before experienced and, after this week, wouldn’t likely enjoy again. From what she already knew of Rock Henderson, he spent his professional life in boardrooms and country clubs, making decisions that affected his company’s bottom line. Gossip around the building described his personal life as rivaling that of a movie star, with staff to attend to his every whim. His women were high society, educated at the best colleges and snooty to boot. He had nothing in common with a middle-class nurse practitioner who lived in scrubs and a lab coat and often dined on hospital cafeteria food. He must have been completely out of options to pick such an unlikely person to be his wife!

For the umpteenth time in the last half hour, she wondered if she’d jumped in over her head. Would this be an interesting way to spend her vacation days or a stupid, impulsive mistake that resulted in the week from hell?

Voices echoing from a distant room jerked her thoughts back to reality. She recognized Rock’s deep timbre, but not the woman’s voice and assumed it must be his mother. Though she couldn’t make out their conversation over the music, both had a strong, commanding presence. In other words, both were accustomed to running the show, and from the tone of their voices, they were embroiled in a serious discussion.

She crossed the foyer and ventured down a white hallway, passing several closed doors sandwiched between custom white cabinetry along the walls. Her boots clicked on the stone tile, making her self-conscious of announcing her own arrival. Halfway down the hallway she stopped at an alcove furnished with a black leather bench on one side, a marble-topped table and mirror on the other. She paused to check her outfit. She’d dressed with care, selecting her best pair of designer jeans. The cashmere turtleneck sweater and matching Jimmy Choo dress boots belonged to Candy Kirchoff in unit 303E, borrowed at the last minute. To make it look as though she’d been shopping, Kim wore a white mink jacket and carried a large Saks Fifth Avenue bag. The short, baseball-style fur had been Veronica’s favorite gift from one of her past loves. Hopefully, no one would notice the slight wear on the silk and wool blend cuffs. The shopping bag contained pajamas, toiletries, a small plastic bag of dog food and of course, the bunny slippers.

Flushed spots stained her cheeks, betraying her nervousness. Her stomach fluttered like crazy.

Do I look the part? Can I pull this off?

She looked down at her companion peeking through the top of a pink tote. “Well, Sasha, I must be crazy to have agreed to this ridiculous charade, but here we go...”

Squaring her shoulders, she walked toward a large open doorway, her high-heeled boots clicking a loud staccato beat to give Rock plenty of advance notice just in case they were arguing...er, discussing her.

Rock stood with his back to a magnificent wall of windows, ignoring the dramatic nighttime view of the lights along the Mississippi riverfront and the Minneapolis skyline. To his right, a robust fire burned in the hearth. Oak bookcases and white Italian leather furniture lined the wall opposite the windows.

An elderly woman sat in her wheelchair next to the sofa with a glass of sparkling water in her hand, wearing a red wool suit and enough bling to start her own jewelry store. Her nurse, outfitted in a starched white dress, stockings and shoes, stood stoically behind her, gripping the handles of the chair. Most of the woman’s pale face, devoid of makeup, hid behind large tortoiseshell glasses. She wore her nut-brown hair parted on the side and twisted into a chignon at her nape. Kim wondered where she came from. No one in the medical profession dressed like that in these parts.