Undercover Fiance

by Sheryl Lynn

  “I didn’t think so. So I’m sure you’ll come up with a better plan.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I always do.” He glanced at his watch. “Can we eat now?”

  The lateness of the hour astonished her. Also astonishing was Daniel’s appetite. At breakfast and again at lunch he’d eaten enough to satisfy a high school football team. She doubted if he carried more than one hundred and seventy pounds on his muscular frame. How he ate so much and stayed so lean boggled her mind. She had to count every calorie or risk ending up fluffy as a bunny.

  “I’ll order a meal sent up to my room.”

  “We need to stay in the public eye.”

  “I’m tired.”

  “You went to bed early last night.”

  Where she tossed and turned, so restless with frustrated lust that she’d awakened this morning feeling as if she’d run a marathon. Damn those purple boxer shorts—boxers weren’t supposed to be sexy!

  “I hardly ever eat in the restaurant. People will think it’s unusual.”

  “It’s supposed to be unusual. We’re lovebirds, remember? Besides, Pinky didn’t send any messages today. He might be hoping I’ll leave. We need to dissuade him of the notion I scare easy.”

  “We may have a long wait for a table.”

  “You’re the boss lady. Pull rank.”

  “Paying customers always come first,” she said sweetly. “Employees, like us, have to wait our turn.”

  He opened the door for her. As she passed he said, “I know you like me. Go on, say it.”

  She refused to let him bait her.

  As she predicted, the restaurant was crowded with diners, and they faced a wait. The maître d’ offered to put her at the top of the waiting list, but she coolly informed him that she and Daniel would take their turn. They sat in the lounge and ordered drinks.

  She relaxed on a comfortable sofa and sipped from a glass of wine. People milled about in the lounge, many of them sunburned from a day on the ski slopes. She envied their carefree attitudes. Daniel made small talk, asking about the many places she’d lived all over the world. After a while she grew aware of him mimicking her actions. When she drank, he drank. When she fiddled with the neckline of her sweater, he tugged at the collar of his. She uncrossed her legs and crossed them in the other direction. A few seconds later he did the same.

  The mimicry had a curiously erotic effect and she found herself leaning closer to him to better hear his voice. A fire burned in the huge central fireplace. Light from the flickering flames danced against his shiny brown hair. He made a silly observation about a man who was wearing chartreuse ski pants. She laughed.

  He leaned so close she could smell him. A ticklish shiver rippled across her skin as his clean, earthy, masculine scent assaulted her senses. She swallowed the sudden thickness in her throat.

  “Not only that,” he lowered his voice, “I think he’s wearing a girdle.”

  She covered a snicker with a hand. The man did have a suspicious-looking panty line under his too-tight clothing. “Stop making cracks about the guests.”

  She drew back far enough to clearly see his eyes. She was overdue for an eye exam and probably needed reading glasses. The reminder that she was nearing middle-age bothered her. The sheer beauty of his eyes came into focus. The color wasn’t merely brown, but a lively mixture of copper and bronze, highlighted by a dark ring around the pupil. His lashes were lush enough to film a mascara commercial.

  He moved in again. His breath caressed her ear and goose bumps prickled her back. “The girl bussing tables. She keeps looking this way. Don’t stare.”

  She lowered her face and pretended he merely whispered sweet nothings in her ear. His denim-clad thigh drew her attention. The wear-softened fabric molded over the sharp sculpting of his knee. An image of his perfectly proportioned, golden tanned legs filled her head.

  She sipped hastily from her wineglass. The tangy Chardonnay brought her back to the present. Grow up, she told herself. She didn’t deny he was gorgeous. She couldn’t even deny how he affected her. But she wasn’t some giddy teenager bowled over by any cute guy who walked past. She absolutely refused to consider what kissing him might feel like. Or how his smooth skin would feel pressing hotly against hers.

  She leaned over to place the wineglass on a table and peeked at the employee. Short and dark-haired, with a stocky, almost boyish figure, the girl moved unobtrusively through the lounge. She carried a sack into which she placed used napkins, paper drinking straw covers and other trash. The girl was a new hire, assigned to housekeeping. Janine blanked on her name.

  Daniel snuggled up close to her. “She doesn’t seem very friendly,” he whispered in her ear.

  “Maybe she’s having a bad day,” she whispered back. Then she remembered. “Marie. Uh, Marie Padillo.”

  “She’s on my shortlist Has she ever done anything or said anything that made you uncomfortable?”

  Suspicion slithered through her brain. Had Marie ever done anything untoward? She let hair fall over her face so she could watch Marie unobtrusively. The girl worked efficiently, but made no effort to chat with guests or even to acknowledge them. If someone got in her way, she stepped back and waited silently for the person to move.

  “Hey, you guys!”

  Janine jumped at the sound of her sister’s voice. She turned on the sofa and faced Kara.

  Kara had exchanged her uniform for a fuzzy green sweater and skintight leggings. Sequins sparkled on the sweater. Earrings in the shape of miniature, mirrored disco balls shimmered through her poufed-up hair. She leaned on the back of the sofa and smiled dreamily at Daniel.

  Jealousy ripped through Janine’s midsection.

  “What are you doing?” Kara asked.

  “Waiting for a table,” Daniel said. He looked her up and down. “Cute outfit. Got a date?”

  “I’m free as a bird. Cody and the guys are letting me sing with them tonight.” She pointed at the wide, double doors leading to the ballroom. “The band starts at nine. Music, storytelling, dancing. Do you like country music, Daniel? And line dancing? Cody puts on a great show.”

  Kara loved attention. Especially the attention of good-looking males willing to assure her she was the cutest little thing this side of the Mississippi. Daniel played right into her hands.

  That it didn’t matter one little bit if Kara flirted with Daniel, and it didn’t matter if he flirted back, made sense in Janine’s head.

  The rest of her hated it.

  She struggled to maintain a pleasant expression She made herself stop twisting her hair.

  “Sounds like fun. I’d love to hear you sing.” Daniel turned an ingenuous smile on Janine. She wanted to slap him. “What about you? Are you up for dancing? I do a pretty good two-step.”

  “It’s been a long day.” She winced at her grumpy tone. “You and I still have work to do.” To emphasize the point she looked for Marie. The girl had disappeared.

  With both arms resting on the sofa back, Kara swayed her backside as if to music only she could hear. A passing gentleman stared so hard he nearly walked into a plant The woman accompanying him gave his arm a jerk. “Ninny’s always a big old party pooper. Come by yourself, Daniel. Trust me, you’ll find plenty of dance partners.”

  “I’ll see if I can talk her into sitting in for a set.”

  Brows arched into a snooty expression, the young woman challenged Janine with a half smile. “Good luck talking her into anything.”

  Party pooper? Because she wasn’t a shameless little hussy who teased every male who came along? Because she didn’t wear flashy earrings and skintight clothes? Because she was nearing middle age and she hadn’t had sex in years, and she had so many responsibilities it felt as if the world rested on her shoulders? If Daniel wanted Kara, good luck!

  “Our table is ready, Daniel. That is, if you still want to eat.” She stalked away.

  Chapter Six

  Daniel studied Janine’s stiff back. The vibes he picked up were very interesting.
She couldn’t be jealous, but the possibility intrigued him. Not so interesting were the open stares following her through the lounge. Every man in the place stood taller to watch her pass by. Many ogled her graceful hips. Daniel tossed back the remains of his drink. His fingers squeaked against the condensation on the glass.

  “Oh, geez, I’m not supposed to provoke her, am I?” Kara whispered. She straightened the hem of her sweater with little jerks.

  With a battalion of half siblings and stepsiblings, he knew full well that one of life’s greatest pleasures lay in tormenting one’s brothers and sisters. He suspected Kara rarely passed up an opportunity to light a match between her older sister’s toes. “She’s under a lot of stress.”

  “You still don’t know who Pinky is?”

  “Not yet. Have you heard anything?”

  “Other than everyone talking about you snagging Miss High and Mighty?” She giggled. “No.”

  “Then the rumor mill is in high gear. Good.”

  Sobering, she plucked at a loose thread on the couch back. “When you say it like that... A lot of people think she’s stuck-up, but she isn’t, not really. She’s always fair and she takes care of people. Most of the staff don’t even realize how much she does for them. She lets the colonel take credit for all the benefits.” She walked her fingers along the sofa cushion. “You must think I’m pretty mean.”

  “Nah.”

  “Really?” Her big eyes shone with hopefulness.

  “You’re okay in my book.”

  “You want to know the truth?” She peered at her sister who now spoke to the maître d’. “Sometimes I am mean. I can’t help it. She—she intimidates me. She’s so smart and organized. I always feel like a little kid around her.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’m a ditz.”

  “A charming ditz.”

  “Oh, yeah?” She picked a piece of lint off his shoulder. “So when you aren’t working, what’s your preference? Perfection or ditziness?”

  He trod dangerous waters here. Rousting Pinky was challenging enough without getting embroiled in a war between sisters. “You know what they say about opposites attracting.”

  She pushed upright and smoothed a hand over her mane of hair. He imagined any man she seriously set her sights on was a goner. “All right, I get it. Good luck, then.”

  “You don’t think I stand a chance with Janine?”

  “It’ll be fun finding out.”

  He agreed. “So does anyone seem upset about me and Janine?”

  Mischievousness lit up her eyes. “Cody.”

  “The head wrangler?”

  “He’s been trying to work up the nerve to ask her out for years. He’s acting pretty grouchy today.”

  It was unlikely that a man in his forties, well acquainted with Janine, would begin stalking her. But stranger things had happened. He mustered an image of the tough-looking cowboy with the waxed handlebar mustache. He’d seemed friendly enough when Janine introduced him earlier today. “What did he say?”

  She lifted a shoulder in a coy shrug. “Something about you being a worthless city boy.”

  “I’ve been called worse. What about Marie Padillo?”

  “What about her?”

  “Has she ever said anything to you about Janine?”

  She laughed and clapped a hand over her mouth. “You think Pinky is a woman? No way! Besides, Marie is madly in love with Steve Woods, even though they fight all the time.”

  “Were they fighting today?”

  “Probably. Her roommate said Marie didn’t leave the dorm today. That usually means they’re fighting.” She searched his eyes. “Is Pinky a woman?”

  “We don’t know.”

  She shuddered. “Gross.”

  “I better go. Keep your ears open.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled over to where Janine waited. He slid an arm around her waist and felt her stiffen.

  The maître d’ led them to a table next to the wide expanse of windows that offered a view of the deck and the forest beyond. Tiny white lights strung in trees complemented the clear night sky. The view enchanted him. Living here, away from the city, surrounded by nature, would be heaven.

  “You and Kara seem to have hit it off.” Her clenched fists rested atop her unopened menu.

  “She’s a cute kid. What do you recommend?”

  “I recommend you remember you have a job to do, and it doesn’t include slobbering all over my sister!”

  He bit down hard on his lower lip. When the urge to bray laughter passed he smiled gently. “I meant, what do you recommend for dinner?”

  Her face reddened. Not even the scratch on her forehead detracted from her incredible beauty. He imagined that even if she were to wear goatskins and plaster herself with mud, she’d still be beautiful. “The trout is excellent,” she said quietly.

  The table was small enough that it was no stretch for him to place a hand over hers. In his peripheral vision he noted the attention servers paid them. “Tell me about your head wrangler.”

  “Cody?” She sounded bewildered. “What about him?”

  “Kara says he’s none too happy about me being here. He doesn’t like me homing in.”

  “Don’t be absurd. He’s been working for us since we bought the resort. Besides, you said Pinky is young. Cody is forty-five.” She canted her head, a sweetly appealing gesture.

  His heart did a flip-flop. He wished they were sharing an intimate dinner in her room.

  “You were talking to Kara about Pinky?”

  “She seems to know everything going on around here. She’s a good source.”

  “She tends to exaggerate. There is nothing going on between me and Cody. I’ve never dated a staff member, and I never will.”

  “Do you ask the staff not to fraternize with each other?”

  “That’s impossible.”

  “I gathered that. We can pull Marie off the shortlist. She’s involved in a relationship with Steve Woods.”

  Her raised eyebrows said it was news to her. It occurred to him Janine might be lonely. By discouraging intrusions into her private life, she discouraged intimacies.

  During dinner—the trout was excellent, as she promised—she seemed distracted. She answered when he asked questions, but did nothing to encourage a conversation. He studied employees. The window glass did a good job of reflecting the activity behind him. He pretended to admire the view while he observed servers and busboys, who all seemed to be too busy to pay much attention to him.

  When they left the restaurant, he heard music in the ballroom. Over the sound of people talking and moving around on the wooden floor he discerned the twang of an acoustic guitar, the mellower notes of a bass guitar and the singsong wail of a fiddle.

  “Dancing will really drive Pinky crazy,” he said. Holding her close would drive him crazy. He’d like to sit by the fireplace and coax her into laughing again.

  “I’m tired and I still have paperwork to finish.” Her lips curled in a tight smile. “But if you really want to hear Kara sing, go ahead. I’ll be perfectly fine on my own for an hour or so.”

  His inner radar pinged. She was definitely jealous of her little sister.

  On the way to her room she stopped in her office to pick up paperwork. He gathered the files for the employees he had put on the shortlist. She also entered a storeroom and fetched a fat bundle of white terry cloth. When they reached her room she gave him the bundle.

  “In case you get cold,” she said.

  He shook out a robe emblazoned with the Elk River logo. “I hardly ever get cold,” he said. “But thanks. Mind if I use your phone? I have some business to take care of.”

  “Help yourself.” She disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door.

  He took advantage of her absence to shuck his boots, sweater and jeans. She’d allotted him a space in her closet. While he hung up his clothes he couldn’t help admiring her belongings. Sleek suits in natural linen, wool, silk and cotton. Soft blouses. Tailored trousers. She preferred
warm reds and golds and yellows. Many of the suits were red. Her taste ran to classic lines and exquisite tailoring. He wondered what she’d look like in a slinky little dress and high heels.

  Or just high heels and pearls. Now there was an image guaranteed to keep him up all night.

  He pulled on the robe. Heavy and warm, it felt as soft as lambswool against his skin. He called his assistant. She filled him in on what had happened at the office in the past few days, which was mostly nothing. He gave her the names and social security numbers of the people on the shortlist and asked her to run a thorough background check on each one. Janine had checked references and criminal records, but he possessed the means to delve more deeply into personal lives.

  Janine came out of the bathroom while he was on the phone and shot him a disapproving glare. The robe had fallen open, revealing red silk boxer shorts. He suppressed a grin. The boxers covered more skin than most bathing suits. He suspected the real reason for her disapproval had something to do with the fleece sweat suit she insisted on wearing to bed.

  She said nothing, however, as she worked at a computer. He studied files until his vision blurred and he was yawning. He made up a bed on the couch, assured her the light wouldn’t bother him and peeled off the robe. He stretched out the kinks in his muscles. He was used to at least two hours of hard exercise a day. He’d go for a long run tomorrow and maybe make use of the lodge’s small workout room.

  Feeling eyes upon him, he turned around. Janine wore a peculiar, possibly dangerous expression. She shut down the computer, then rummaged in a dresser drawer.

  Wondering what he’d done wrong this time, he said, “Good night.”

  She stomped into the bathroom.

  He’d settled under the covers when she came out of the bathroom. She wore a pair of emerald satin tap pants and a matching camisole. The flimsy material ruffled with her every movement, caressing her curves like a flow of jeweled water. The tap pants were cut so high on the sides that when she leaned over the table to turn off the lamp he glimpsed the bewitching curve of her derriere. When she pulled back the bedcovers, her full breasts swayed, unfettered and tempting, the points of her nipples poking against the satin.