Hell. He was going to strangle Seth. “Why would Tess's own brother do that to her?”
“Don't you think she deserves to be happy?” Shadoe asked mildly.
“Deserves? It sounds more like a punishment to me.”
“Just because you consider marriage a punishment doesn't mean everyone agrees with your assessment. Tess obviously doesn't, otherwise she wouldn't ask our help finding husbands for her friends.”
As much as Shayde wanted to rail against such a logical conclusion, he couldn't. Besides, why fight the inevitable? They'd already reminded him the Committee never made a mistake. He'd seen them in action, seen how well their choices had worked in the past. Whomever they'd selected as Prince to Tess's Cinderella, must be the perfect man for her. Right?
“So who is this joker, anyway?” he reluctantly asked.
Shadoe's boss took over the conversation. “She already knows the man. So do you for that matter, which is why you were chosen for this job. The preliminary data on him has been sent to you by E-mail. All you need to do is instigate the romance.”
“Just stick them together and let nature take its course?”
“That would be acceptable,” she confirmed
“Fine. I'll start tomorrow. Anything else?”
It was Shadoe's turn for a parting shot. “One final suggestion.... Do your job.”
There wasn't anything more to be said. Flipping the phone closed, Shayde pocketed it and glared out at the deserted streets. Oh, he'd do his job, just as he always had. But never before had he felt such aversion to a simple matchmaking project. Perhaps when he met this prince Shadoe had uncovered, he'd change his mind. Perhaps he'd concede that the two were a perfect match. But somehow he doubted it. When he thought about how she'd reacted when in his arms, how she'd opened herself to him, and how eagerly her lips had parted beneath his, he more than doubted it. He was absolutely positive the Committee was wrong.
And he'd do everything in his power to prove it.
Shayde arrived promptly at six-fifteen. Tess opened the door and he fought to hide his reaction. She looked stunning. She wore a simple ivory shift that clung to every incredible curve and she'd topped it with a short bolero-style jacket covered in swirls of glittering beadwork. The color set off her pale skin and vivid hair, and turned her eyes a riveting shade of blue. She wore her hair up and had added to her height with a pair of three-inch heels. She'd also shrouded herself in a cool, remote air that would have done an ice princess proud.
“You're beautiful, Tess,” he said. He deliberately invaded her space and kissed her.
She pleased him by swaying toward him, relaxing into the embrace. An unmistakable tension hummed between them and her breathing kicked up a notch. Her reaction didn't come from nervousness, but awareness, and was exactly the sort of undercurrent he hoped her co-workers would sense. As though she'd picked up on it, as well, Tess took a careful step backward, fortifying her barriers with impressive speed.
“I won't tell,” he murmured.
She lifted an eyebrow in question. “Excuse me?”
He couldn't resist teasing. “I won't tell anyone that you slipped up when I touched you. It can be our little secret.”
Annoyance fought with amusement and after an endless second her mouth twitched and a laugh escaped. “You're impossible.”
“So I've been told,” he sympathized.
She regarded him for a frustrated moment, clearly uncertain how to deal with him. “I made up my mind after you left last night that I wouldn't let you get to me again.”
He couldn't resist touching her once more, tracing the smooth line of her neck from her elegant jawline to the tempting hollow at the base of her throat. “Don't feel bad. You held out for a whole thirty seconds.”
Her amusement faded. “Five,” she whispered. “It only took five.”
Hell. The muscles in his jaw flexed. They really were in trouble. “If we don't get out of here now, we're not going.”
Crossing to a hallway table, she picked up a purse that could have passed as a postage stamp and gestured toward the door. “Shall we?” she asked formally. “I don't want to be late.”
No. Shayde didn't, either. He was in a hurry to find Tess's future husband and instigate a romance between them. And then he'd be out of her life and she'd get her happily-ever-after ending. They'd both be satisfied. She'd go her way and he'd go his. He followed her out the door, unable to take his eyes off the tempting sway of her hips. Joining her on the sidewalk, he wrapped an arm around her and tucked her close. Yeah, he'd go his.
Eventually.
They made the trip downtown in silence. Aside from an uplifted eyebrow and a swift, speculative glance, Tess didn't comment on Shayde's Jaguar. It was just as well. He doubted he'd have been able to lie to her about how he'd afforded it on the sort of salary he'd earn through a temporary employment agency. Unfortunately, the truth would lead to more questions than he cared to answer at this point. How did he explain that he spent most days managing the fortune he'd earned in the stock market whenever he wasn't moonlighting as an Instigator? Somehow he doubted that would go over well.
They arrived at the cancer benefit early and she took the time to introduce him to her co-workers, as well as her boss. Al Portman was a large jovial man with shrewd, intelligent eyes and Shayde suspected it would take a stellar performance to convince this man they shared an intimate involvement. The dancing started not long after they'd made the rounds and Shayde slipped an arm around Tess, walking with her toward the dance floor.
“Time to start the show,” he murmured close to her ear.
To his relief, she didn't pull away, but accepted the light embrace. His hold tightened and he skimmed his hand along her spine. She felt incredible, fitting against him as though she belonged. At least, she did right up until they began to dance. As he took the first few steps across the floor, Tess glanced up at him. The instant their eyes met, she stumbled.
Her reaction to the mistake didn't help. She went rigid, her expression turning alarmed. “I don't know if I can do this.”
“Sure you can,” he soothed, sticking to the most elementary of steps.
“Please, Shayde.” The words came in a panicked whisper. “I told you I didn't want to dance with you again.”
“I remember. I also warned that we'd only get one shot at this.”
“In that case, we'd better get off the floor or I'll ruin everything.”
“Relax, sweetheart. You're not going to ruin a thing. We're going to dance just like we did last night.”
She tromped on his toe. She'd also done that the night before, but he'd hoped she'd forgotten that particular maneuver. It would appear she hadn't. “See? It's not working. We have to change the plan.” She moistened her lips, desperation flickering in her gaze. “I'll—I'll pretend to twist my ankle. You can help me off the floor and we won't need to dance for the rest of the night.”
“Calm down, Tess.” It was now or never. If he couldn't convince her to play her role in a convincing manner during their first dance, everything they'd worked to accomplish would go right down the tubes. “Close your eyes,” he ordered.
“What?”
“Close your eyes.” He barked his instructions in a gruff undertone, knowing it was the only way to get through to her. “Do it. Now.”
Her lashes flickered downward. “What next?” she asked stiffly.
“Listen to my voice. Feel me moving against you and pretend we're back in your hallway. That we're all alone.” She missed one last step and then magically, her movements matched his. “That's right. Just keep focusing on me and nothing else. I won't let you down. I won't desert you. And I'm going to do everything in my power to help you get this promotion. Trust me, Tess.”
Her laugh held a shaky quality. “You sure know how to sweet-talk a woman.”
“It's not sweet talk,” he denied. “I'm being dead honest.”
“I wish I could believe you.”
/> “You can.” He needed to distract her so she wouldn't have time to think about what they were doing. “I have to tell you, Tess. This doesn't make sense to me. You're a strong woman. Determined. Focused. How is it possible that one simple dance could rattle you so badly?”
“It's all your fault.”
“My fault?” Perfect. Annoyance had replaced her earlier self-consciousness. Maybe if he kept pushing her buttons, she'd continue dancing like an angel. “How do you figure?”
She opened one eye long enough to peek up at him. “It's a perfectly logical conclusion. I don't have this problem with anyone else. Therefore it has to be your fault.”
“Got it. All the other men you've danced with before were total wusses who let you lead.”
“That's not what I meant.”
He cautiously molded her closer. “I'll bet they didn't hold you like this, though, did they? Not even for show.”
She shivered, winding her arms around his neck. “Are you positive this is just for show?”
He buried a smile against the top of her head. Finally. The perfection they'd experienced in the hallway returned, their movements as intimately matched as lovers. “For both our sakes, it had better be.”
She opened her eyes and regarded him seriously. “Then you agree with my original proposal?”
“Which proposal was that?”
Her fingers slid along the nape of neck and into his hair. It was all he could do to keep from groaning. “You promised we would maintain a professional distance, remember?”
“Yeah. A professional distance. Whatever you say, lady.”
She massaged his scalp in slow, hypnotic circles. “Am I putting on a good enough act?”
He pulled back slightly so he could glance down at her, allowing his amusement to ease into his expression. I”Is that what you're doing? Putting on an act?”
There was something about a slow smile coming from a blue-eyed redhead that was as sultry as hell. “What else could it be?”
“Oh, I don't know.” He swept a stray curl from her temple as he drifted with her across the floor. “The real thing?”
Her smile grew. “Not a chance. You told me we have to be convincing tonight. You also told me last night that we'd only get one shot at this. It's amazing what a little motivation will do for a woman.”
“You're certainly doing an excellent job convincing your co-workers we're serious. They haven't taken their eyes off us since we hit the dance floor.”
“Do they look like they're buying our performance?”
“Hell, sweetheart. I'm buying it.” He feathered a kiss along her jawline. “Why wouldn't they?”
To his disappointment, her hands slid from his hair and settled onto his shoulders. “Don't overdo it, Shayde,” she warned. “You'll make me nervous. And you know what happens when I get nervous.”
“You mean how you flinch and flutter and get all skittish around me?”
“That's not quite how I'd phrase it.” She shrugged. “But it's not worth arguing over semantics. We've done a good job convincing everyone that we're serious. I don't want to do anything that'll change that.”
“You mean, for instance, if I were to hold you too close.” He deliberately locked her hips against his. “What might happen if I did that?”
She moistened her lips and he took an unwarranted amount of satisfaction in the fact that it took her two tries to formulate a reply. “I might do some of that flinching and fluttering.”
“Really?” He pretended to consider. “We wouldn't want that.”
She shook her head and a few more curls floated free from the formal knot at the nape of her neck. They settled along the curve of her cheekbones, the fiery ringlets a brilliant contrast to her creamy skin. “No, we wouldn't.”
“How about if I were to steal a kiss, instead?” He i took her mouth in a lingering caress, thoroughly enjoying the taste of her. “What might happen then?”
Her pulse kicked up a notch, throbbing beneath his hands. “I'd end the dance.”
“Bad idea,” he murmured. “Your clients might get suspicious.”
She cleared her throat. “And that would defeat the F whole purpose of the exercise.”
“I guess that means I shouldn't kiss you.”
“I really rather you didn't.”
He chuckled at the brazen lie. “I suppose that just leaves us with a plain, simple old-fashioned dance.”
“It would...” She shot him a look from beneath her lashes. “Except for one small problem.”
“And what's that?”
“There isn't anything plain or simple—let alone old fashioned—about the way you dance.”
He grinned. “I would hope not.”
Scooping her closer, he swung her around the floor, taking pleasure in the blatantly seductive movements. She felt incredible in his arms. Warm. Alive. Willing. Hell, she was more than willing, which created a definite problem.
He could invent all the excuses in the world about opening her up in order to reignite her interest in men. But the simple truth was that he wanted her-and not for anything noble like marriage. He wanted the woman in his bed, her hot-sun curls tumbling across his pillow while she wrapped those pale, silken limbs around him in a lover's embrace. He wanted her mouth beneath his, every inch of her closed around every inch of him, and her satisfaction ringing in his ears. Nothing less would do.
She wasn't meant for him.
The words came out of nowhere, no doubt summoned by the commitment he'd made to his brother. Dammit all! He'd never broken his word before. And no matter how hard he fought the truth, the hard, cold fact- was that somewhere at this party he'd find the man the Committee had chosen for Tess. The “perfect” man. The man who would give the woman in his arms her fairy tale ending. And then his true job would begin. He'd have to find ways to instigate a relationship, regardless of her preferences—his mouth tightened—or his.
Tess's hand tightened on his shoulder. “What's wrong, Shayde?”
He glided to a stop on the far side of the dance floor.
“Sorry?”
“You look like you're a thousand miles away.”
He should release her now that they'd stopped dancing. Ignoring every rational impulse, his arms tightened around her. “I was lost in my own thoughts.”
She leaned into his embrace, her head close to his.
“Judging by your expression they weren't pleasant ones. Anything you'd like to share?”
“An obligation I'd rather avoid.”
Tess nodded in perfect understanding. “I know all about obligations. Particularly the unpleasant sort. Is this one job related?”
Before he could answer Al Portman approached. “Excuse me for interrupting,” he said with a broad smile. “We're about to go in to dinner. Afterward, Tess, I'll be assigning you an Impossible.”
“I look forward to it,” she replied.
Something in her tone warned Shayde that she was lying. Considering her drive and determination to win the promotion he couldn't help wondering at her reluctance. “What's wrong?” he asked quietly as they headed for the dining room.
“I think I know who Al has chosen for me.”
“And?”
“And if I'm right about his choice, I don't have a chance of getting this promotion.”
“Why?”
“Let's just say there are personal complications that are interfering with my soliciting him for business purposes.”
“Personal complications, as in... romantic sort o complications?”
“You're very good at this, Shayde.”
“The best.”
He was also very good at reading between the lines. This Impossible had been putting the moves on her. Maybe he'd even offered to make a generous donation to Altruistics in exchange for an equally generous donation on Tess's part. And her solution had been to hire someone to play the part of her lover in order to fend off his unwanted advances.
Shayde fough
t to keep his voice level. Not that he succeeded. It grated even more than normal. “How can I help?” Aside from beat the bastard to a bloody pulp, he barely refrained from adding. Probably just as well he didn't mention that option to Tess. She might try and talk him out of it.
Her gaze flickered in his direction and the expression he read there did little to cool his anger. “Stay close,” she murmured.
“This man you're concerned about, he's the reason you hired me, isn't he?
“Yes.”
“And I'm supposed to send out signals that you're unavailable romantically so he'll keep his damn hands off you when you approach him about a donation. Is that it?”
She didn't look his way, but her expression gave him all the answer he needed. That tore it! The minute he got Tess alone, he'd find out the name of this guy and precisely how he'd expressed his “interest” in her. And then Shayde planned to track the slimeball down and explain how he'd better not express that sort of interest ever again unless he wanted to lose a few teeth.
Shayde shook his head in disgust. Just great. Maybe he could also thump his chest a few times, let out a blood-curdling bellow, and take a swing from the nearest tingle vine. Of course... Now that he thought about it, there was another possibility. There was an outside chance that this SOB was the same man the Committee had matched with Tess. He grinned. Oh, yeah. He liked that idea.
Unfortunately, it was a one in a million shot, mainly because Shayde knew the man who'd been chosen for Tess and Grayson Shaw wasn't the kind of guy who'd pull the sort of despicable stunt she'd described. But still... A man could hope. Maybe Gray had turned into a total jerk in the week since they'd last seen each other.
If his insane guess proved accurate, he'd take great delight in planting his fist in Gray's chin before putting a fast end to the Committee's first mismatch. And while he was at it, he might take a minute or two to rub Shadoe's nose in his mistake. Just as a friendly, brotherly gesture. And then... He glanced down at the woman at his side.
And then Tess would be all his.
Day Leclaire - The Provocative Proposal Page 8