Fiancee for Hire (Front and Center)

by Tawna Fenske

  “Classy,” Anna repeated, still looking at Kelli like she had ferrets coming out her ears. “Got it. Okay then, here are a few locations I’ve been looking at for the two of you.” She spread an array of snapshots on the table, each marked with information about cost and the number of people it could accommodate. “This one right here has stunning views of the ocean, while this one has on-site catering that’s magnificent.”

  “Very nice,” Kelli said, admiring the landscaped grounds and trying to think of an appropriately bride-like observation. “The statue in that fountain looks very well-endowed.”

  Anna cocked her head as she studied the photo again. “Yes, I suppose he does. We could put pants on him if you think guests would be offended.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  “What about that spot on the cliff?” Mac asked, smiling at Kelli with what she assumed was supposed to be the look of a doting groom who wanted the very best for his bride. He looked more like a lion eyeing a tasty gazelle covered in chocolate syrup. Kelli swallowed. He put his hand on her knee, and the possessiveness of the gesture made her skin buzz pleasantly.

  Mac looked back at Anna, who was clicking her pen the way she often did when anxious. “The place on the cliff,” he repeated. “The one I sent you the link to yesterday?”

  “Yes, well, it’s very lovely, but I thought with Kelli’s intense fear of heights—”

  “It’s fine, really,” Kelli said, hurrying to cover Mac’s misstep. “I’m totally over that.”

  “You are?” Anna asked, looking dubious. “But it was only a year ago you refused to go up the Space Needle with me on that girls’ trip to Seattle.”

  “Intense hypnosis,” Mac said. “Very effective in curing phobias.”

  “Absolutely,” Kelli agreed, steeling a glance at her groom. His hand was still on her knee, and she willed it to slide higher. “Hypnosis is excellent for all kinds of phobias. It worked wonders for Mac’s aulophobia. And you wouldn’t believe what a severe case of helmintophobia he was dealing with until Dr. Hillman got a hold of him.”

  Mac frowned, and Kelli wished like hell she could see behind his sunglasses. He had beautiful eyes, large and brown and much warmer than she ever would have guessed.

  “Er, right,” Anna said, looking baffled. “Okay then, we’ll take a look at that spot on the cliff later this week. In the meantime, do you two want to talk about cake?”

  “Lemon,” Kelli said. “Definitely lemon with buttercream frosting.”

  “But only on half,” Mac added. “I’m allergic to lemon.”

  “Of course, dear,” Kelli said, feeling her stomach sink as she reached over and patted his hand. “I was just talking about the top tier. The one couples stick in the freezer to eat on their first anniversary but end up throwing away because who the hell wants to eat year-old frozen cake?”

  “There’s a local baker who makes some really unique creations,” Anna offered. “There’s this one with glorious chocolate fondant and three tiers with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and—”

  “No,” Mac interrupted, his voice so sharp Kelli felt her heart stutter. “No Reese’s Peanut Butter anything.” He pulled his hand from her knee, and Kelli’s skin went cold.

  She nodded in what she hoped was a show of support as the hair on her arms prickled. What the hell was that about?

  “So—vanilla?” Anna said helpfully. “Or maybe Dutch chocolate. If you’d like, I can arrange a cake tasting for you at one of the bakeries in Todos Santos, though there’s a really good one in Cabo if you’re up for a bit of a drive.”

  “That would be great,” Kelli said, glancing at her stone-faced groom. “Since we have to go there anyway to pick up my ring.”

  “Ring,” Mac repeated, nodding. “Right, of course. Gotta pick out a ring.”

  “For him,” Kelli said, kicking Mac under the table. “We haven’t talked about Mac’s wedding band yet, but obviously I’m excited to see the ring he’s chosen for me at the jeweler down here.”

  “Right,” Mac agreed, giving Kelli a light kick of his own. She looked up and caught a glimpse of his eyes beneath the sunglasses. He was scanning the room, and she watched as his gaze settled on a nearby table and narrowed.

  She resisted the urge to look.

  Zapata’s spies. We’re being watched.

  A shiver rattled down her spine. “Of course, our schedule is a little busy,” Kelli said, doing her best to project a perky and carefree demeanor. “Mac has a lot of meetings planned in the coming weeks, and I’ll be busy setting up the spay-and-neuter clinic.”

  “That’s right, you told me!” Anna said, folding her hands on the table. “It sounds like quite a project. Were you able to make contact with some of the local clinics to round up volunteers?”

  “Yes, Mac was a big help with that.” Kelli glanced at her faux groom, feeling genuinely grateful. “We’ve got a surgical facility secured, and we received an anonymous donation of supplies.”

  Mac nodded, acknowledging nothing, though Kelli knew damn well he was behind the donation. There were definite upsides to having a controlling man with a mysterious occupation and exceptionally deep pockets.

  “So when do you start snipping?” Anna asked.

  “I go in at noon tomorrow to meet the crew and develop a game plan for trapping and releasing the cats. It’s important to return them to their original colonies following the neuter to avoid territorial fighting.”

  “That’s so great you’re doing that,” Anna said. “And what will you do with your practice in Kauai once the two of you tie the knot?”

  Kelli swallowed, not sure how Mac wanted her to answer that. “Well—”

  “She’s keeping her practice,” Mac said. “Kelli worked hard to build that clinic, and since my job keeps me traveling so much, it makes sense for her to keep her home base in Hawaii.”

  “Exactly,” Kelli said, inexplicably relieved at the idea that her imaginary marriage offered plenty of space and breathing room. “And if it’s too difficult for us to be apart, I can take on a partner to run things in Kauai while I travel with Mac and do clinics around the world.”

  Anna beamed. “That’s wonderful. Sounds like you two will be very happy. So do you want to try to squeeze in a trip to the bridal boutique in the morning? I can make some calls and have them set aside some dresses in your size.”

  Kelli looked at Mac, expecting him to tell her that wouldn’t be necessary.

  “That would be great,” he said. “Sweetie, are you still thinking about something with all those buttons up the back?”

  “Buttons,” Kelli replied. “Right. All the better to keep my groom from getting his hands on me too soon.”

  She gave him a flirtatious wink and wished for anything but that.

  …

  They bid farewell to Kelli’s friend at the curb, and Mac led his fake fiancée to the Town Car he’d parked in back of the building. He glanced from side to side, alert to potential threats. He had bodyguards stationed at two corners of the parking lot, but still felt tense. The pistol on his hip gave him some comfort, but he was aware that danger hovered everywhere.

  Especially in his bride’s delectable cleavage.

  When Kelli reached for the car door, Mac touched her arm to stop her.

  “Wait,” he ordered.

  She stepped back and blinked. Mac was still touching her arm, and it took all the strength he had to drop his hand and begin a slow inspection of the vehicle. He circled cautiously, stooping down to check the undercarriage, then the wheel wells.

  “Are you looking for bombs?” Kelli whispered.

  Mac looked up and realized he had a lovely view straight up her skirt.

  Probably should spend a little more time on the ground performing a really thorough inspection.

  “Bombs,” Mac repeated, shaking his head to clear it. Distraction wasn’t an option on this mission. “Bombs or tracking devices.”

  Or those gorgeous, sun-kissed legs curving up und
er that thin little skirt to a pair of lush, warm thighs that would feel amazing wrapped around—

  He straightened up on the passenger side and reached across Kelli to open her door. “Darling,” he prompted, and handed her inside. She smiled at him, and Mac had to resist the urge to stroke her hair.

  As soon as they were both in the vehicle and safely buckled, he turned to her. “Thank you for accepting my proposal.”

  “You must say that to all your brides.”

  “No, I meant business proposal. Well, and the engagement.” He frowned, realizing he was handling this rather awkwardly. “As you might imagine, this is much different from my usual missions.”

  “You don’t say.”

  “I’m ordinarily on much more familiar ground with things like illegal arms deals and tactical military missions.”

  “Not so much with wedding cakes and bridal lingerie?”

  Her tone was teasing, and he allowed himself a small smile. “Not so much.”

  “Were we being watched in the restaurant?”

  “Yes. Two of Zapata’s men were at a table about twenty feet away.”

  He started the car, relived when nothing exploded. It was always a risk in his line of work. They rode in silence for a while, with Mac acutely aware of her beside him looking sweet and soft in a pale pink silk top and white linen skirt. He smelled jasmine again, and wondered if it was her perfume or her natural fragrance. He thought about asking, but that seemed too personal.

  You’ve asked her to be your fake fiancée, he chided himself. That’s pretty fucking personal.

  No, it was a business arrangement, pure and simple. It made sense, having someone who’d been close with his family. Sheri had vouched for her, which meant a lot.

  If Zapata’s men checked into it, they’d learn he’d been in close contact with Kelli for years. Not that Mac remembered her much. On the rare occasions he’d bumped into a grownup version of Kelli, he’d hardly had time to notice her.

  He was noticing her now, acutely aware of the way her skirt rode up as she uncrossed and recrossed her legs. Her blouse was modest, nothing overtly sexy about it, but something in the way it draped over her smooth curves made him ache to see what was under it. Would her bra match her panties? Bikini, he guessed, maybe pink. That seemed like the sort of woman she was, sweet and modest and classy.

  You don’t know shit about this woman, his subconscious chided.

  “I know a lot about you,” he blurted, feeling dumb the second the words were out of his mouth. “I’ve had private investigators tracking down every detail about you, from your childhood to your college years and beyond.”

  She blinked at him, looking perplexed. “A couple phone conversations with me wouldn’t have sufficed?”

  “Right,” he said. “I was being efficient.”

  “That’s how every woman wants to be swept off her feet.”

  They fell silent again, Mac trying to think of something to say.

  This is a business relationship. You don’t need to make small talk.

  “What’s aulophobia?” he asked. “And helmintophobia? Those things you said to Anna back at the restaurant.”

  Kelli smiled, and straightened the hem of her skirt. “Aulophobia is a fear of flutes. Helmintophobia is a fear of being infested with worms.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  “How the hell did you know that?”

  She looked out the window, and for a moment, he saw two frown lines between her brows. Then they vanished, and Mac considered the possibility he’d just imagined them.

  “My mother was—um, different.”

  “Different?”

  “She had a number of mental-health issues.”

  “I see. She died when you were fifteen, right?”

  She looked over at him, startled, and he felt the urge to apologize. “I’m sorry. It was in the report from the private investigators.”

  “Right. Yes, well, then you may or may not know my mother was crazy as a bedbug, which is part of why my father left when I was eight.”

  “And you were raised in a series of foster homes, correct?”

  “Yes. Then I graduated from high school and went on to college and vet school and lived happily ever after.”

  There was something wistful in her words, something that made him turn to look at her. She smiled, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, but he noticed her hands had clenched into fists.

  “Your mom—was she violent?”

  “No, not violent. Just highly delusional. She suffered from all kinds of paranoia, which is how I know so much about it. She battled chronic depression, and I suspect she would have been diagnosed as bipolar if she’d bothered to go to the doctor. Meds probably could have helped, or therapy, but she refused both.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said lamely, feeling stupid for repeating such a banal phrase.

  “It’s okay.”

  It wasn’t, not really, but he didn’t know what else to say. “Here we are,” he announced, then turned to watch her face as he pulled into the driveway of the villa.

  She pulled off her sunglasses and he watched her eyes go wide as she took in the massive stucco walls, the tasteful ironwork, the artful cobblestone driveway, and the views of the sparkling Pacific on the horizon.

  “It’s beautiful,” she breathed, reaching for her door handle. “You live here?”

  “Part-time,” he said. “My work takes me all around the world, but I’ve had several missions in the area these last few years, what with the drug wars and gang slayings. The U.S. military has quietly increased its presence throughout the country as things have escalated.”

  She nodded as though only partly hearing him and opened the door, stepping out onto the cobblestone driveway. The ocean breeze fluttered her skirt and her hair, making Mac ache to gather in her arms the way he had on the beach.

  He settled for gathering her luggage. As if on cue, his personal assistant—a former Marine named Brian—came hustling out to help.

  “Sir, let me get that,” he said, pushing a wheeled cart up to the car. “Ma’am, how was your flight? Oh, and congratulations. Both of you.”

  Kelli beamed, then looped her arm through Mac’s in a way that sent his pulse thudding in his ears. “Darling,” Kelli said, smiling up at him so sweetly his teeth ached. “You’ve been talking about me?”

  “I wanted the household staff to know you’d be here making plans and getting ready for our wedding. Everyone’s been informed to do whatever you need, whenever you need it. Come on, let me show you the house.”

  He led her up the walkway as she cooed over the flowers and cactus garden. He opened the door, feeling strangely nervous all of a sudden.

  “Señor!” Maria gushed, swooping in to give him a big hug. “You bring her here at last!” She zeroed in on Kelli and crushed her in a huge hug. “Señorita, you are every bit as beautiful as I expected.”

  “Thank you,” Kelli said, beaming at Mac. “I look forward to getting to know you.”

  Mac nodded, not entirely sure whether she was speaking to Maria or him.

  Maria gripped Kelli’s hands and smiled. “I let you get settled and then you come tell me what you like for dinner, sí?”

  “Sí,” Kelli agreed as Maria bustled off toward the kitchen.

  Across the dining room in the study, Mac spotted Hank, his second-in-command. Hank waved, then gestured to the phone held against his ear. Kelli turned and looked at Mac.

  “You have a lot of people here.”

  “Yes.” He lowered his voice. “And don’t think for a moment they aren’t watching.”

  He meant it as a warning not to let her guard down, not to trust anyone with their secret, with the details of their plan. Instead, she looked up at him with a saucy expression.

  “Well then, don’t you think you ought to kiss me?”

  “What?”

  She took a step closer, her cheeks flushed, and grabbed the front of his shirt wi
th her pink-tipped fingers.. “Sure, honey. We’ve been apart for weeks, and obviously we can’t keep our hands off each other.”

  Mac glanced toward the kitchen, where Maria was busy polishing a granite countertop that sure as hell didn’t need polishing. Across the hall in the office, Hank adjusted the phone against his ear. From his peripheral vision, Mac saw Brian moving toward the house towing a wheeled cart loaded with luggage.

  Mac looked down at Kelli. Her features were fixed in an angelic smile, but there was something else in her eyes. Something daring him to kiss her, to make it clear to the household staff that this engagement was no act.

  “My pleasure,” he said, meaning it more than she probably realized.

  He pulled her to him, and she blinked with surprise, stumbling. He caught her in his arms, molding her body against his as she tilted her face up to look at him. Her eyes were wide and her cheeks flushed, and he felt a surge of lust as he lowered his lips to hers.

  She froze at first, and Mac wondered if he’d gone too far, too fast. Then she kissed him back, her lips parting as she gave a soft moan in the back of her throat.

  He pulled her tighter against him, marveling at how tiny she felt in his arms, how soft. He didn’t want to crush her, but couldn’t fight the urge to push her back against the wall of the foyer. She stiffened, pressing against his chest. His fingers tangled in her hair and he tipped her head back to deepen the kiss. He pushed her toward the wall again, and this time she went willingly, arching her body against his as her shoulders bumped the stucco wall. He slid one hand to the small of her back, curving her pelvis against his. His body responded, and he wanted her so badly his brain screamed with it. He kissed her harder, cupping her face with his free hand to angle her against him.

  He felt her hips swivel, felt her moving against him in a way that left him wondering if he’d seriously misjudged this woman. There was a fire behind the serenity, a passion behind the sweetness. Mac slid his hand up, traveling the silky smoothness of her back and around the side to graze her breast. Christ, she wasn’t wearing a bra? He traced the underside of her breast with his thumb as her leg twined around his.