His Secretary's Surprise Fiancé

by Joanne Rock

  “Maybe I will surprise him.” She picked up her makeup and went to work on her eyes, hoping to look more like an exotic beauty and less like an efficient, capable assistant.

  Mascara helped. Besides, she’d gone to art school. If she couldn’t create a good smoky eye, she ought to turn in her degree.

  “No maybe about it.” Her mother went to work on Adelaide’s hair, her fingers brushing through the long caramel-colored strands. “This dress is a good start.” She winked at Adelaide’s reflection in the hallway mirror. “You don’t look like anyone’s assistant tonight.”

  * * *

  “How close are you?” Dempsey shifted the phone against his ear as his hired driver pulled up to the venue in Jackson Square.

  He’d left the Land Rover and Evan with Adelaide this week, trusting his regular driver to keep her safe. By safe, Dempsey had meant keeping reporters away. He’d never imagined his temporary fiancée would have a sudden desire to visit the old neighborhood.

  A tic started behind his eye as he thought about her there without him. She’d moved to an apartment closer to the French Quarter after college, but her mom had never left the place on St. Roch. Even Dempsey’s mother had found greener pastures nearer the lake.

  But then, his mother had the financial cushion of whatever his father had paid her to keep clear of Dempsey.

  “Two minutes, max,” Evan assured him. “I’m right behind the building, just crawling with the traffic.”

  “I’ll walk toward you.” Dempsey exited the vehicle close to Muriel’s, the historic restaurant chosen for the event. Then he sent the driver on his way.

  He would have preferred to pick up Adelaide personally tonight, but practice had run long and the meetings afterward had been longer still. There was unrest among some of the younger guys on the offensive line, but Dempsey was leaving the peacekeeping to his brother Henri, their starting quarterback. Henri had mastered the art of letting things roll off him, which was key for a player who operated under a microscope every week.

  But the same quality could tick off other guys in the locker room, the players who took every setback like a personal affront, the athletes who were competitive to the point of obsessive. The media loved to key in on crap like that.

  And with the press hinting at marital trouble in Henri’s private life, the team’s front man wasn’t exactly feeling friendly toward the local sports journalists. Dempsey just hoped he would get through the fund-raiser tonight. No matter what was going on in Henri’s personal world, he trusted the guy to lead them to a win Sunday.

  “I see you.” Evan’s voice in his ear brought him back to the present, where he damn well needed to stay. “I’m going to pull right up to the curb for the sake of Miss Adelaide’s shoes.”

  Looking up the street, Dempsey spied the Land Rover headed his way. He pocketed the phone and moved toward the red carpet that had been laid on the sidewalk. Players were already arriving along with prominent local politicians, artists and philanthropists. A lone trumpeter in a white suit serenaded the guests on their way into the Jackson Square landmark venue.

  A staffer from the Brighter NOLA foundation hurried toward Dempsey to pin a flower to his jacket and update him on the guest list so far. He thanked her and waved the woman off as the Land Rover arrived in front of the carpet.

  He didn’t care about protocol, so he didn’t wait for Evan to open Adelaide’s door. Dempsey tugged open the handle himself and extended a hand to...

  Wow.

  All thoughts of guests, players and philanthropy vanished at the sight of Adelaide. She wore a pink dress that might possibly be described as “lace,” but it was a far cry from a granny’s doily. Beaded and shimmering, the gown hugged her curves all over. It wasn’t low cut. It was long-sleeved and it fell to her toes. Yet the lace effect made strategic portions of her honey-toned skin visible right through the rosy-toned mesh. Her thighs, for example. The indentations above her hips.

  Intellectually, he’d always known she was an attractive woman. Of course he had. He wasn’t blind. But maybe her workday wardrobe had helped minimize an appeal that damn near staggered him now. With an effort, he dragged his attention away from her body to meet her gaze.

  Only to find a simmering heat there that matched his own.

  This engagement charade of his was feeling far too real. And if he wasn’t careful, he would end up following that heat where it led and hurting Adelaide in the process. That was the last thing he wanted.

  The very last thing he could afford.

  “You look beautiful.” He tugged her closer, wrapping an arm around her waist to escort her inside.

  She smelled fantastic. Like night-blooming roses. Her hair was gathered at the back of her head, some of it coiled and braided, with strands left loose to curl around her face. She wore her waist-length hair up most days, wound into a simple knot. The soft curls trailing to the middle of her back made him wonder when was the last time he’d seen her with her hair let down.

  “Thank you.” She kept a tight hold on a beaded pink purse, the engagement ring he’d produced for her glinting on her left hand. “And thank you for the ring,” she added softly, for his ears only as they walked toward the entrance behind slow-moving attendees meeting and greeting one another. “I’ve never seen anything so gorgeous.”

  He’d ordered it immediately after announcing the engagement to ensure the custom design would be crafted in time for tonight’s party. He hated that he’d had to have it shipped to her at the house instead of giving it to her in person, however.

  Then again, with their roles feeling a little too real, it was probably for the best he hadn’t personally slipped that big yellow diamond onto her finger.

  “Adelaide!” someone on the street called out to her, and she halted. Turned.

  A camera flash popped nearby as a woman snapped a photo of them.

  “Are you aware that Valentina Rushnaya will be attending tonight’s event?” the photographer shouted over the trumpet music and din of nearby conversation.

  Dempsey tensed, ready to respond. Addy beat him to it.

  “How kind of her to support a Brighter NOLA future.” Adelaide smiled as she lifted a hand to his chest and tipped her head to his shoulder as if they were a couple in love.

  Was she simply posing for another photo? Or showing off the ring?

  He followed her lead, kissing the top of her head possessively before ushering her toward the door.

  “Nicely done.” He wished he could pull her into a dark corner and talk to her. Make sure she was solid going into this event if Valentina truly put in an appearance. But there was no time now as people were already headed their way. “Let’s stick together for the first half hour.”

  “Of course.” She smiled her public smile, already waving to one of their biggest donors. “But you’re dancing with me tonight,” she warned him. “It’s the perk of being your fiancée.”

  Normally, Dempsey worked the floor of a fund-raiser with precision, glad-handing the necessary parties and then leaving, never giving in to Adelaide’s invitations to stay longer and have fun. But this was his foundation and he was here for the long haul.

  “The perk is all mine.” The words fell out of his mouth before they were surrounded by well-wishers, potential patrons and community bigwigs.

  Dempsey noticed Adelaide went into work mode as quickly as he did, but his focus was nowhere near his usual level. Even as he made conversation, his thoughts went back to those moments on the red carpet with Adelaide. The way she’d looked when she stepped from the Land Rover and every soul in Jackson Square had let out a collective breath. The way she’d curled against him when that photographer wanted a picture, as though she’d been born to be in his arms.

  The idea bothered him.

  There was no doubt in his mind that Adelaide looked
different tonight, from how she wore her hair to that dress of hers that was killing him. And as the night wore on, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wondered who she was talking to and if they noticed that she looked like a walking fantasy. Part of him wanted confirmation that something about her had changed, but another part of him wanted to make sure every other man in the building wasn’t looking at her, because he didn’t want anyone else thinking about her thighs.

  Maybe he really had been blind all those years they’d just been friends.

  Two hours into the event, the night seemed to be running smoothly enough. Casino tables had opened around the rooms blocked off for the party. The red walls and decadent furnishings of Muriel’s legendary Séance Lounge made an appealing backdrop for blackjack as the crowd loosened up. The gaming was strictly to raise money for Brighter NOLA. It was so packed that guests stood out on the balconies in the heat, snapping photos of themselves with Jackson Square in the background. The dance floor was filled and the band—as always in this town—sounded fantastic.

  He was about to seek out Adelaide when a feminine voice purred in his right ear.

  “My lone wolf looks on edge tonight.” The low tone and soft consonants of Valentina’s Russian accent made him tense.

  Turning, he avoided her attempt to kiss his cheek.

  “If I’m on edge, it’s only because you’ve taken up the valuable time of my staff with empty threats and games.” He gave her a level look, noting that her barely there silver gown was completely over-the-top for a charity event that raised funds for underprivileged and at-risk youths.

  “Your staff? Or your fiancée?” She tossed her head in a dismissive gesture meant to be insulting.

  Dempsey had to smother a mirthless laugh because—damn it to hell—Adelaide had been correct about him dating theatrical women in slinky gowns. When had he become such a cliché?

  “Both.” He was grateful they stood in the shadows, since he didn’t need photos of them together showing up in the paper. “And I trust the only reason you’re here is to write a big, fat check to the foundation, since we specifically agreed to go our separate ways.”

  “Agreed? There was no agreement!” She pulled a glass of champagne off a passing waiter’s tray and helped herself to a long sip. “You dictated every detail of our time together, and then disappeared before my bed even had time to cool down—”

  “Ms. Rushnaya, how beautiful you look.” Adelaide appeared at his side, slipping an arm through his. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but, Dempsey, we did promise a quick word with the representative from Town and Country before they leave.”

  She nodded meaningfully toward the other side of the room.

  “Of course.” He had always counted on Addy for well-timed interruptions, and she delivered yet again. Still, he didn’t like that she’d overheard the bit about running out of Valentina’s bed. He didn’t treat women that way. “Please excuse us.”

  “Yes, do take your turn with Town and Country.” Valentina emptied her glass and set it on a nearby table, her movements unsteady. “I have my own press to speak with, Dempsey.”

  She turned on her heel to march away, right toward a woman who had a camera aimed at them. Again.

  “Dempsey.” Adelaide laid her hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her, commanding his attention before the camera flashed. “There isn’t actually an interview,” she confided. “I was just trying to give you some breathing room.”

  The look in her hazel eyes stole all his focus. Or maybe it was the gentle press of her breasts as she arched closer.

  “Thank you.” How many times had she served as a buffer for him with the media or with football insiders he didn’t particularly like? She ran interference like a pro.

  “Dance with me?” she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her gaze.

  Had he put that vulnerability there? He hadn’t spent much time with her this evening, handling the room with the same “divide and conquer” approach they’d used in the past at events he’d needed to attend. But tonight was different. Or at least, it should be. If he’d had Adelaide by his side earlier, Valentina might not have tried to ambush him in a dark corner.

  “With pleasure.” He lifted Adelaide’s hand to his mouth and brushed a kiss along her knuckles. Her skin smelled like roses.

  He’d done it to reassure her that he wanted to be with her. To thank her for sending Valentina on her way.

  At least, the kiss started out with good intentions. But as the slow blues tune hit a long, sultry note, Dempsey couldn’t seem to let her go. Adelaide was getting under his skin tonight, and it wasn’t just that damnable dress. So he flipped her hand over and placed a kiss in her palm, where he felt her pulse flutter under his lips. Which made him think about all the other ways he could send her heart racing. All the pulse points he could cover with his mouth. In turn, his own heart slugged harder inside his chest.

  Every damn thing got harder.

  “My song will be over by the time we get out there,” she whispered, though she didn’t sound terribly disappointed.

  Her pupils dilated so wide there was just a hint of color around the edges.

  “It’s less crowded right here.” He wanted her to himself, he realized. Craved her, in fact. “Plenty of room to dance.”

  “Really?” She peered around them. “I guess it’s the kind of thing an engaged couple would do.”

  “Exactly.” He pulled her into his arms, fitting her curves against him, close enough to catch her scent, but not nearly as close as he’d like. “No sense letting anyone think Valentina caused any drama.”

  At the mention of the woman’s name, Addy’s gaze dropped. He cursed himself for being an idiot as he backed them closer to the open doors leading out to the balcony.

  “Is that what this whole charade is about?” she asked when she looked up at him again. “Have I been promoted to your round-the-clock protection from the she-wolves of the world?”

  She couldn’t be jealous. Yet the thought nearly made him miss a step.

  “No.” He lowered his voice, knowing how the walls had ears at events like this. “You and I have a whole lot more at stake between us and I think you know it.”

  “If there’s more at stake, you might want to up your game while we’re in public, since newly engaged men don’t tend to prowl the perimeters of parties alone.” She practically vibrated in his arms as he drew her out onto the balcony and into the farthest deserted corner.

  He couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to him with so much fire in her eyes.

  “You’re jealous.” He tested the idea by saying it out loud as he studied her in the moonlight. The song came to an end.

  He didn’t let go of her.

  “And you’re mine for four weeks, Dempsey Reynaud.” She tipped her chin up at him. “I suggest you act like it if you want to pull off this ruse of your own making.”

  Heat rushed up his spine in a molten blast. The need to offer her what she’d asked for made him grip her tighter, pulling her hip to hip, chest to breasts.

  And if that was a little too much PDA for a charity event, too damn bad. It wasn’t anywhere near enough for what he wanted to do with her. She felt even better up close than he’d imagined, and his head had been full of inventive scenarios all week.

  “Careful what you wish for, Addy,” he warned her, grateful for the night shadows that kept them hidden.

  He’d been a gentleman for her sake. At least now she would know exactly how much he was feeling like her fiancé. Her hips cradled the hard length he couldn’t begin to hide.

  And that was when things got crazy. Because instead of storming off like his affronted best friend, Adelaide gripped the lapels of his tuxedo and pressed a kiss to his lips.

  Five

  Adelaide saw stars.

&
nbsp; Clutching Dempsey’s jacket, she fulfilled a secret dream as her lips brushed along his. They stood under the night sky, his back shielding her from view. Behind her, the iron bars of the balcony pressed against her spine. In front of her, warm male muscle was equally unyielding but oh-so-enticing.

  She’d seen a chance to surprise him—just as her mother had suggested—and she’d taken it. She knew better than to think this fake engagement was going anywhere. But she could use this time to indulge herself and her long-standing fantasies about Dempsey. Because in less than four weeks, things were going to change between them forever when she left her job with the Hurricanes.

  Her senses reeling, she broke the kiss, needing to put some distance between them. He didn’t move far from her, though. It took another long moment before he released her.

  “Let’s go,” he urged, threading his fingers through hers and claiming a hand.

  Blinking through the fog of desire, Adelaide followed him, her steps smaller and quicker by necessity due to the fitted gown. Her lips tingled pleasantly, her nerve endings humming with awareness of the man beside her.

  “Are you sure we should leave?” She glanced around the private rooms at the full dance floor, the crammed gaming tables, the busy bar stations. “As hosts of the event—”

  “We’ve done our part,” he assured her. “The event planner will take it from here. And I’m dying to get you alone.”

  To explore what she’d started? She hadn’t missed the indication of attraction when she’d been pressed up against him. But she couldn’t afford to trade her heart for a night in his bed, and she knew herself well enough to know that was a very real possibility. Her feelings for Dempsey had always been strong. Complicated. And this engagement wasn’t exactly simplifying matters.

  “I didn’t mean to send mixed signals.” She hated to have this conversation here, in a quiet corridor as they waited for an elevator. But it was too important to wait. “I got caught up in the moment—” She bit her lip to refrain from telling him about her mother’s suggestion that she surprise him.