Rent a Millionaire Groom

by Judy Christenberry

“Yes, I love it.”

  Okay, so he’d made the right choice. She’d be more relaxed, and he’d learn even more delightful facts about Dr. Elise Foster. It was so hard to picture her as a college professor.

  “Do you like teaching at ASU?”

  She looked surprised. “I love it. I love the French language. It’s beautiful, lyrical, and I love sharing it with others.”

  “I bet your students love the language, too, when you’re finished with them.”

  “You make it sound like I force-feed them.”

  “No, I suspect you seduce them,” he said softly, imagining listening to her for an hour, a smile on his lips.

  “What? What do you mean?”

  “Sorry, just a phrase. Listening to your voice is such a pleasure, I think you could convince me of anything.”

  “I didn’t mean to overreact, but in this day and age, we have to be very careful.” She folded her hands in her lap.

  “Maybe I should’ve found a French restaurant and let you order for us,” he suggested.

  She rolled her eyes. “Why? You speak Arizonan as well as I do. You don’t really think the waiter would be French, do you?”

  “Surely there are some Frenchmen in Phoenix.”

  “There are, but they’re usually the chef, not the waiters. I’ve had several come speak to my classes.”

  “Do you cook French dishes?”

  He was surprised by the suspicion that filled her gaze.

  “Why? Are you hoping I’ll cook for you instead of your mom? Or cook a meal for you to impress someone?”

  The tension in her voice confused him. “I was just making conversation, Elise, trying to get to know you. What did I do wrong?”

  She looked away. “I’m sorry.”

  “That doesn’t explain the problem. What is it?”

  “M-my fiancé didn’t want me to have a career unless it was entertaining his clients. The only schooling he wanted me to bother with was Cordon Bleu 101 so he could impress them.”

  “I hope you kicked him out on his behind.”

  “My family didn’t have that reaction.”

  “Well, they should’ve. You weren’t hiring on to be his housekeeper. You were going to be his wife. Didn’t he care about what you wanted?” He thought the guy sounded like a jerk.

  They’d reached the restaurant, and he parked. Then he turned to look at Elise. She hadn’t responded to his statement. “Elise? Did I hurt your feelings? Are you all right?”

  She blinked rapidly before looking at him, but he could still see the tears pooled in her eyes. “James, don’t be—be so charming, please. I can’t—”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “No man has ever— Even my family thought I was crazy because I objected to Richard’s agenda.”

  “What did your brother say?”

  “Chance? Oh, he didn’t say much. He tried to stay uninvolved in what he called ‘emotional girl stuff.”’

  “That was probably smart,” James agreed with a chuckle, “but it would’ve been better if he’d supported you.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “This looks like a nice restaurant.”

  Clearly she was ready to change the subject. “I haven’t tried it before, but it came highly recommended.”

  Once they were seated inside, he decided he’d made the right choice. Each booth had high backs and swinging saloon doors, giving them the illusion they were in a small room all alone. “Guess no one will interrupt us here,” he said with a smile.

  “I hope at least the waiter stops by, or we’ll starve to death,” Elise returned, smiling now too.

  James was relieved. He didn’t want her unhappy, but he felt as if he’d uncovered a lot in the short drive. When he combined the information about her fiancé and her taking care of her six sisters, it was easy to understand her resistance to marriage.

  A thought suddenly struck him. “Richard is the only man you’ve slept with, isn’t he.”

  The waiter opened the swinging door. “Good evening, I’m your waiter for the evening. Richard is my name.”

  Elise turned a bright red.

  ELISE LET JAMES do the ordering. Since he consulted her on her preferences, he actually asked the waiter for exactly what she would have ordered. Richard used to order his own choices and expect her to like them.

  She’d been an idiot ever to put up with the man.

  The amazing thing was James’s agreement. She hadn’t expected him to even understand her problem with Richard’s attitude, much less support her. She’d told Phoebe and Daisy about Richard’s controlling nature, of course, in one of their late-night chats, and hadn’t been surprised when they’d agreed with her assessment of him. They were women.

  The waiter finally left the table, and James leaned back against the booth. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  “Yes, thank you. You ordered exactly what I wanted.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You’ve only slept with Richard, haven’t you.”

  “James! You have no right to ask such personal questions! I haven’t asked that of you.”

  “What do you want to know?” he asked, spreading his hands wide.

  “I don’t see any need to discuss our past lives. My sisters won’t ask questions about your past.”

  “Then they’re mighty unusual women.”

  “If they do, I’ll tell them it’s none of their business, nor mine, either, for that matter.”

  He leaned forward, and even with the table between them she found herself pressing against the back of the booth.

  “You’re telling me even if we were really engaged, you wouldn’t ask about my past partners? You wouldn’t even want to know about my ex-wife?”

  Shocked out of her self-consciousness, she leaned forward. “You’ve been married? You must’ve been very young.”

  For the first time in a while, he was the one to seem ill-at-ease. “Yeah.” He busied himself with his napkin.

  “See? It’s uncomfortable to be grilled by a stranger,” she pointed out.

  “I wasn’t grilling you!” he snapped. “It seemed to me you haven’t spent a lot of time with men, but if you were a virgin, I—”

  “I’m not. We’ve established that. And I told you I hadn’t dated much. So, we can move on.” She certainly hoped they would. She was tired of turning a bright red every time she talked to this man.

  Silence followed. Okay, so they didn’t have anything in common. Well, they had the school. She’d talk about school. “How was your day? What play are you working on now?”

  He didn’t look enthusiastic. “Um, Shakespeare. We’re doing a Shakespeare play.”

  “Oh, really. I thought you were going to skip him this year since you just did a Molière. I heard you were going for contemporary comedies to tempt a younger crowd.” She stared at him curiously. There had been a big debate on campus, the classics versus the popular.

  “Oh, you mean our production. Right, of course. I thought you were referring to my classes. We’re working on Shakespeare in class, but our—our public presentation is a contemporary.”

  “Which one?”

  He looked a little lost, and she stared at him.

  “I believe it’s a Neil Simon. Yes, a Neil Simon. He’s a very good writer, you know.”

  Her lips twitched. Did he think she was an idiot? “Yes, I heard,” she said smoothly.

  Now he blushed bright red. She loved turning the tables on him.

  “Of course you have. I didn’t mean to imply— I was embarrassed because I couldn’t think of the name of it.”

  “It’s not a test, James,” she assured him kindly. “I thought you would be involved in it, that’s all.”

  “Not yet. I’ve had too much to do for my classes.”

  “How many hours do you teach each week?”

  He more easily fielded that question. “Nine.”

  “And you also take classes? That’s a heavy load. Are you sure you have time for—for our nonsense
?”

  “It’s not nonsense,” he assured her, more confident now. “I’m calling it our Campaign for Elise’s Sanity.”

  She chuckled. “Short and to the point. And very accurate.” She sighed. “I haven’t said anything to my family yet. I wanted to be sure— I mean, you might’ve changed your mind, so—”

  “I’m not going to change my mind. I’m enjoying myself. And I hope you are, too.”

  She blushed again. Oh, yes, she was enjoying herself, part of the time—the part where she wasn’t horribly embarrassed. And James had improved her dream time dramatically. “Yes, it’s—it’s been interesting.”

  He chuckled. “People are saying my attitude has improved.”

  “Your attitude?”

  “Sometimes I can be a little grouchy.”

  She could believe that. When he’d criticized Richard, his expression had been firm, determined, strong. Not that she was complaining. But she could imagine he’d be a formidable foe.

  “And—and I changed that?” she asked, doubtful.

  “Oh, yes. Just thinking about our conversation Wednesday night put a smile on my face.”

  She was grateful when the doors swung open again and the waiter put the glass of tea she’d ordered in front of her. Maybe the cold drink would cool the heat in her cheeks.

  Chapter Five

  By the time dinner was over, James thought Elise was more at ease with him. They’d had a lively discussion on their favorite authors. Once they finished eating, Elise led the conversation to television. For him, she added, a wicked smile on her lips.

  He turned it into a discussion of their favorite advertising spots on television. He was pleased when she named as her favorite one of the campaigns he’d written.

  “Of course, it’s my favorite,” she exclaimed. “I love commercials that make me laugh—and when the man sits down on the loaf of bread by mistake, it always cracks me up.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. What do you think about this ad that’s an ongoing saga, with a romance in it?”

  “Oh, you mean the one for the steak restaurant? I’m enjoying it. It’s an ad I actually look forward to. Have they started a new chapter yet?”

  “Not until next week,” he assured her, smiling back.

  “How do you know that?”

  Uh-oh. “I read it in the Business section of the newspaper.”

  “I missed it.”

  “You read the newspaper every day?” he asked. He’d always thought college professors hardly knew there was a world out there, their lives were so isolated.

  “Of course. I particularly check the Business section because I like to know what industries are in the area that would be interested in bilingual employees. That’s one of the ways I show my students that French is still relevant.”

  “It would be easier if you taught Spanish, as close to the border as we are,” he pointed out.

  “I know.” She propped up her chin, a somewhat discouraged look on her face. “Enrollment is a battle we fight every day. The past year or two we’ve even picked up our numbers, but it’s a concern every semester.”

  “Numbers are important,” he said gravely, thinking of his own concerns about the number of people responding to the ads he’d created.

  “I’ll admit, at this age the boys are more interested in the topless beaches in France than they are in the job prospects, but I hope they’ll remember what I say later.”

  “You mean you admit that males are sometimes interested in sex?” he teased, referring to their conversation on Wednesday night.

  “I think ‘sometimes’ might be an understatement.”

  “Yeah, probably. By the way, have I mentioned how nice you look tonight?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, you do. Maybe even better than in the jeans,” he added, grinning.

  “You’re just trying to embarrass me,” she told him, sitting straighter on the bench seat, like a prim and proper teacher. “But I’m not going to blush, so you might as well give up.”

  Since he’d already decided they needed a little more method acting, he planned on causing her to blush a lot before they ended the evening. But he didn’t mention that fact now.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  The waiter interrupted them with the bill. James had his credit card ready and handed it to him, and the waiter disappeared.

  “You are keeping track of your expenses, aren’t you?” Elise asked, frowning.

  “Stop worrying. I know how to keep an expense account,” he assured her carelessly.

  “You do? I didn’t think actors had expense accounts.”

  “Uh, it was for a summer job I had once.”

  “A summer job? I gather you weren’t selling fries at a burger shop.” Her tone indicated her doubt.

  “Nope. I was working for my dad. He wanted to teach me about the big, bad world.” He actually had worked for his father a few summers, doing yard work and repairs to the house.

  “Is your father alive?”

  “Yeah, he and Mom live in Tucson. He plays a lot of golf now, but he used to run a manufacturing plant down there.”

  The waiter returned, and James was glad. He’d have to be more careful when he answered Elise’s questions or she’d figure out something was wrong.

  He escorted her to the car, which pleased him. Not because he was ready for the evening to end. No, not that. He was looking forward to the next part of their research. All evening, he’d stared at those soft lips. And as soon as they got back to her apartment, he was going to taste them.

  ELISE WAS FEELING better about their agreement. She’d managed an entire evening without falling apart. And once they’d started talking about general things, rather than her love life, she hadn’t blushed once.

  He was still charming, of course. It seemed to be a natural thing with him. But with a table between them, she could manage just fine.

  In the car, as he drove, she asked him if he preferred acting in a comedy or a drama. That question launched a discussion of their favorite movies. Amazingly, she discovered they liked a lot of the same ones. Of course, he preferred a few bang-bang shoot-’em-ups, mostly contemporary, that she’d never seen, and he hadn’t bothered with Sense and Sensibility or Emma.

  “So next time shall we take in a movie? How about Sunday evening?” he suggested as he parked the car in front of her place.

  “Monday, Wednesday and Friday are my early classes,” she pointed out.

  “Okay, we’ll make it Monday night. What time’s your first class on Tuesday?”

  “Eleven, but I keep office hours from nine-thirty until class.”

  “Nine-thirty? Unfair, I have to be at work at eight o’clock,” he teased.

  She stared at him. “I didn’t know the Drama Department scheduled any classes that early. I’m surprised.”

  “It’s not classes,” he said hurriedly. “I do some prep work for my supervising professor.”

  “Oh, I guess that’s not too bad. Well, thanks for a lovely evening,” she began as she reached for the door handle.

  “Wait.”

  “Yes? Did I forget something?”

  “Yeah, I think you did. This—”

  As his head drew closer, she suddenly realized what he meant. She had every intention of protesting, but somehow she didn’t get the words out until it was too late.

  His warm, sexy lips covered hers, lured hers into clinging to his, opening to his, inviting him in, even though she’d had no intention of doing so.

  He accepted the invitation.

  His hands did even more, encircling her, pulling her across the bench seat, pressing her against his long, lean form. He lifted his mouth and quickly re-slanted it on hers to take the kiss deeper. Somehow, her arms ended up around his neck.

  She thought she’d never been kissed like that before. A startling realization for a woman of her age.

  “What was that?” she muttered, staring fiercely into his blue eyes when he lifted his head.


  “Sweetheart, if you don’t know, I definitely need to practice more,” he whispered, even as he lowered his head again.

  The second kiss was even better than the first…and frightened Elise. The evening had gone so well. She’d thought she could handle the situation. Now he was proving she couldn’t.

  “Stop!” she urged, jerking her lips from his, even as her body protested.

  “Why? We’re doing so well,” he murmured, and started to kiss her again.

  “No!” She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the hysterical note in her voice. “We don’t need to practice. We’re both able to— I mean, we’re experienced. This isn’t necessary.”

  “You want me to stop?”

  She stared at him. Hadn’t he been listening? “Yes, that’s what I said.”

  “Then why are your arms still around my neck?”

  She jerked them back as if someone had poured boiling water on them. “I didn’t realize— I forgot.”

  He gave her a cocky grin. “Anytime you want to forget again, just let me know, Elise. I’ll be happy to accommodate you.”

  “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary,” she assured him, looking away after taking one last quick glance at his lips. Hard to believe a kiss had brought that much pleasure.

  She reached for the door handle again, determined to get out of the car before she changed her mind. Temptation, thy name is James.

  He didn’t try to stop her. He got out, too, and came around to meet her at the front of the car. “I’ll walk you to the door,” he said in a husky voice.

  “No, it’s perfectly safe. Well-lit. I—I’ll be all right.”

  “I’m walking you to the door,” he insisted, taking hold of her arm.

  Shivers ran over her body at his touch. Since he had an obstinate look on his face, she decided it would be quicker if she let him accompany her. Then he’d go away.

  “Why are you in such a hurry?” he asked, as they rushed up the stairs.

  “It—it might rain,” she suggested.

  “In Phoenix? Maybe in July, Elise, but it doesn’t rain much the rest of the year.”

  “I thought I saw some clouds,” she argued.

  She came to a halt in front of her door, frantically searching for her keys. He stood patiently beside her, waiting, which surprised her. Maybe she was worrying about nothing. He probably had no interest in kissing her again. She was being foolish.