by Judy Duarte
Finally, at a quarter to six, he called it a day, locked his office door and headed to his SUV. He’d barely reached the parking lot when a tall, lanky reporter and a short, squat photographer rushed toward him.
“Is there any truth to the rumor that you asked Mayor Hernandez to marry you?” the reporter asked.
Oh, for Pete’s sake. He’d known that word of his and Ellie’s engagement would get out, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. “No comment.”
The camera flashed.
As Steven continued toward his vehicle without missing a beat, the reporter tried to match his strides. “Mr. Fortune, have the two of you set a date for the wedding?”
Ignoring the men and that blasted camera, Steven climbed into the SUV and drove away, his grip tight on the wheel. He’d like to throttle that damned gossip columnist. This was all her fault.
Ellie ought to sue the newspaper for printing that woman’s salacious words, although the case would probably get thrown out based on a technicality. The columnist hadn’t actually mentioned Ellie by name.
He suspected that Iris, the city hall receptionist, had contributed to the spread of gossip. She’d been curious when Steven had breezed past her on his way to Ellie’s office this morning. And when George and Alma arrived with troubled expressions, her interest had probably been piqued, so she’d followed them.
She’d claimed to be standing outside the doorway so she could remind Ellie of a meeting, but Steven didn’t buy that lame excuse. And now the Rambling Rose rumor mill was running amok.
If the newshounds were bothering him, he couldn’t imagine what Ellie must be dealing with, so he called her cell.
She answered on the second ring.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
“It’s been a rough day, to say the least. That blasted gossip columnist has been stalking me. And apparently, there’s a reporter camped in front of my house, too. Daria told me to stay away until he leaves, but he’s not going anywhere until he get some answers.”
“You’re right. They’re not just after you. When I left the office, a reporter and a photographer tried to corner me.”
“This is getting out of hand,” Ellie said. “We need to talk and work out a game plan.”
“Where are you?” he asked.
“In my car. I was going to spend the night with my parents, but my mom told me there are a couple of local bloggers parked in front of their house. Apparently, the fact that a small town mayor is going to marry into the Fortune family has set off local interest. So I’ve been driving around town until I figure out where I can have some privacy.”
“Come to the ranch. It’s not only remote and a little difficult to find, we also have security. No one can get in the front gate without us knowing about it.”
“Is your family okay with that? I mean, do they know what’s going on?”
“Not yet, but they will. I’m going to call them now and give them a heads-up.”
Ellie sighed. “This thing is snowballing on us, Steven.”
True. They’d have to do some fast thinking. “Don’t worry, Ellie. It’ll be okay. We’ll work it out.”
“I hope you’re right.”
To be completely honest, so did Steven. But he’d always been able to think himself out of a corner.
“I have a guest bedroom,” he said. “You should stay with me until we get everything figured out.”
Silence stretched across the line for several pensive beats. Finally, she said, “Okay. I’ll see you shortly.”
With Ellie on her way to the ranch, Steven called Callum and briefed him on the upcoming wedding, as well as the nosy press. He’d expected his brother to be surprised, but he seemed to take the announcement in stride.
“I realize things came together pretty quickly,” Steven said, “but don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
“It didn’t take me long to fall for Becky,” Callum said. “And we all saw the sparks between you and Ellie.”
Sure, there was chemistry, along with physical attraction. But they’d bumped heads since day one for political reasons. Even their arguments and disagreements were passionate, in the broadest sense of the word.
Ignoring his brother and the suggestion he didn’t want to deal with tonight, Steven said, “Ellie’s right behind me. She’s going to be staying with me.”
“I’ll let Becky and Dillon know.”
Ten minutes later, Steven arrived at the gatehouse, where he greeted Stan Hawthorne, the guard.
“I’ve invited Ellie Hernandez up to the house again tonight. She’s a few minutes behind me. There might be some snoopy reporters on her tail, but don’t let them through.”
“They won’t get past me, Mr. Fortune.”
Steven thanked him and drove up to the house. He hadn’t told Callum everything. So, for all the family knew, the marriage would be the real deal, and they’d assume that Ellie would be sharing his bed. Instead, she’d sleep in his guest room, just across the hall.
The sleeping arrangements could prove to be a challenge, though. Their chemistry was strong. Hopefully, unlike the news of their engagement, his attraction to Ellie wouldn’t get out of hand.
* * *
After parking next to the expansive main house at the Fame and Fortune Ranch, Ellie popped open her trunk to get the spare outfit and toiletries she carried with her for emergencies. A change of clothing and makeup had come in handy on more occasions than one, but she’d never been so glad to be prepared for the unexpected as she was today.
She removed the canvas gym bag she used for yoga and her aerobics class, as well as a garment bag that held another outfit. She had enough to get her through the night and the next day. Daria had promised to pack a suitcase tomorrow and bring it to the ranch.
Hopefully, she wouldn’t need to be here long. Once the news was out, the reporters and bloggers would back off, she could go back to her house and life would go back to normal. Only trouble was, with a fake wedding and a baby on the way, her life was changing at Mach speed. And she was going to have a new normal, whatever that might be.
When she reached the front entrance, she shuffled the bags she carried, giving herself a free hand to ring the bell, but she didn’t need to. The door swung open, and Steven greeted her with a warm smile that lit his blue eyes.
“Here,” he said, reaching for her tote bag. “Let me carry that.”
“Thank you.” She stepped into the large foyer that opened to a formal living room, but rather than scan her surroundings, she studied the man who’d offered her refuge.
His hair was still damp from a recent shower, and the clean and musky scent of soap and man filled her lungs. He’d shed the Western wear he’d had on earlier, replacing them with a casual look—a black T-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. He’d kicked off his shoes, too.
She tore her gaze from the gorgeous sight and scanned the empty room. “Where is everyone?”
“I told them you’d had a rough day and that we needed some privacy tonight.”
She hated to admit it, but she really would appreciate some peace and quiet.
“I don’t want you passing out on me again,” Steven added.
“I didn’t pass out. Not all the way.”
“Close enough to worry me.” Steven nodded toward the hall that led to his quarters. “Come with me.”
“I would like to have some quiet time,” she said, as she followed him down the hall, “but I feel bad about chasing everyone off.”
“You didn’t. Dillon’s busy working on a project in his quarters, and since the twins didn’t get a good nap today, Callum and Becky are getting them ready for bed.” Steven stopped and opened the door for her. “If it makes you feel better, Becky told Manny, the cook and caretaker, that he could sleep in tomorrow morning. She wants to fix breakfast for us. That is, if you d
on’t mind.”
“No, that’s fine. We’ll need to face them together soon, and we may as well get it over with.” Ellie entered Steven’s small living room, with its leather furniture and southwestern artwork on the pale green walls.
“You didn’t see the guest room when you were here last,” he said. “It’s across the hall from me.” Steven led her to the room in which she’d be sleeping and placed her bag on a queen-size bed covered with a white goose-down comforter. She would’ve found it to be cozy and restful if Steven hadn’t been standing so close, if his warm gaze and blood-stirring scent weren’t so alluring.
“Do you want to take a rest before dinner?” he asked.
“Actually, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll take a shower and put on something more casual.”
“No problem. I hope you don’t mind sharing a bathroom with me.”
“I’m just glad to have a peaceful place to stay tonight.”
“It might be a little steamy in there, but I left clean towels on the counter. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, but I have everything I’ll need.” She pointed to the bag on the bed. “I came prepared.”
“I can see that.” He offered her a heart-strumming smile, then left her on her own.
Twenty minutes later, she came out of the bathroom clean and refreshed. She wore black yoga pants and a white T-shirt, which she’d have to wear to bed tonight. Her emergency preparedness kit didn’t cover sleepovers. She left her sneakers in the gym bag, opting to go barefoot.
She padded down the hall and found Steven in the kitchen, chopping lettuce for a salad.
He turned and smiled as his gaze swept over her from head to toe. “I’ve never seen you without shoes. Pretty toes.”
Her cheeks flushed, embarrassed by the compliment, by the intimacy of their new living arrangement, but she stood tall. “I can dress casually when I want to.”
“I’m glad you did.”
He’d kicked back for the evening, too, and if anything, the barefoot cowboy was even more appealing that way. And sexier than ever.
“What’s for dinner?” she asked.
“Nothing fancy. Just turkey sandwiches, a tossed salad and chips. I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s fine.” In fact, it was perfect. He was perfect. And the friend she’d come to appreciate more than she’d ever expected. “Need some help?”
“Nope. I got it all under control. I thought we’d eat indoors tonight. The sandwiches are made, and the salad is almost done. It’ll just be a minute.” Steven turned back to add cherry tomatoes to the greens.
Ellie pulled out one of two bar stools, then glanced out onto the patio and into the backyard. The same small white lights twinkled on the trees outside, and yet again she couldn’t help but think how the whole scene appeared to be more romantic than it should.
“I’ve been thinking about the wedding,” he said. “We need to set a date, and the sooner the better. What about next Sunday?”
Talk about soon! But he was right. She sighed. “All right. That’ll work. But there’s so much to do. Where do you suggest we have it?”
“Let’s have it here. There’s bound to be a few newshounds trying to crash the ceremony, and we can easily step up the security. I’ll just add a second guard at the gate that day.”
He had a point. A good one.
“There’s a large grassy area behind the main house,” he added. “We can rent chairs and a gazebo. It’s up to you, though.”
“That would be a nice touch, I guess. But I don’t want the guest list to get out of hand.”
“I can keep my number at a dozen or so,” Steven said. “My parents will want to be here, and I’m sure Wiley, Ashley, Megan and Nicole will come with them. Then there’s my sister Stephanie and her fiancé, Acton Donovan. And, of course, Dillon, Callum and Becky.”
“There aren’t too many people I’d need to include. My parents have a lot of friends and coworkers, not to mention my mom’s bunco group, but I’ll insist that we keep it a family affair. And, of course, Daria. She’s like a sister to me.”
“And she’ll be the maid of honor.” Steven reached for a pair of tongs and placed them in the salad bowl.
“Who will you ask to stand up with you?” Ellie asked.
Steven set the bowl on the bar, between the two stools. “If I go with one of my brothers, it would be a hard choice to make. I might ask my dad.”
“That’s kind of cool.”
“I think so. I don’t have a favorite brother, although I do have only one father.”
Steven set two place mats on the bar, as well as silverware and a couple of napkins. He then took a bottle of water from the fridge and filled two glasses.
“Have you set up a shopping trip yet?”
“I would have done that this evening, but when I was talking to both my mom and Daria, we’d been more focused on avoiding the snoopy reporters. But I’ll call the office and let them know I’m taking a few days off work. Hopefully, we can go shopping tomorrow.”
“There’s a store that sells formal wear at the Shoppes. It’d be nice if you can find a dress there.”
To support the store owner, she assumed. And it was a nice thought. “I’d do it, but I don’t think I’d be able to afford anything there.”
He circled the edge of the bar to take his seat next to her, but he paused for a moment, just inches away, his eyes locked on hers. “Consider the dress my treat.”
The offer, as well as the way he was looking at her, sent her senses reeling and her thoughts scampering to keep up. “Stop trying to be so nice.”
“Can’t help it.” He grinned, then winked. “I am nice. You’ll see.”
They remained like that for a moment, bonded by an invisible tie, gazes locked, her heart thumping.
He reached out and cupped her jaw. His thumb skimmed her cheek, caressing her skin. She should stop him, push him away, jump out of her chair and run for the hills. But for the life of her, she couldn’t move. As his lips brushed hers, she leaned into him and kissed him back.
His tongue swept into her mouth, and a wave of desire nearly knocked her to the floor. This was not good—the kiss, the desire for more, their current living situation.
Ellie let the heated kiss continue until her brain finally took control over her body, and she drew back. “I’m sorry, Steven. This isn’t a good idea. We can’t let it happen again.”
He raked a hand through his hair, sucked in a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “You’re probably right.”
Then he winked at her again. “But you have to admit, it was nice.”
It had been better than nice. And if things were different, she might be tempted to kiss him again, right here, right now. But the last thing she needed to do was fall for her fake fiancé.
And something told her she was getting too damned close to doing just that.
Chapter Eleven
The next morning, after Ellie dressed for the day and while she was making the bed in the guest room, Steven’s deep, mesmerizing voice sounded from the open doorway.
“Becky and Callum made breakfast. Are you hungry?”
She placed the last pillow sham on the bed then turned to the door. “Yes, but I’m a little nervous about facing the troops. What, exactly, did you tell them about us?”
“Just that we’d been seeing each other for a while and that we tried to stay under the community’s radar. Things got serious, and I asked you to marry me. You agreed, and now the press is hounding us.”
“Okay. Got it.” They’d touched upon that subject last night, but after they’d kissed, she’d gotten uneasy and made a quick retreat. But it was a new day now. She couldn’t very well avoid the issue any longer. Nor could she avoid facing Steven’s family.
“Is it okay to tell them about the baby?” he aske
d.
“We may as well.” She rested her hand on her growing belly. “In fact, we really should.”
Steven leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb. He’d never looked so handsome, so relaxed, so...
The memory of last night’s kiss ricocheted in her mind. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to shake the blood-stirring yearning it provoked, the desire for more.
“I like seeing you do that,” Steven said.
She took a step away from the bed, which was now made and a little too inviting, and eased closer to the doorway. It might be time to make another quick exit. “See me do what?”
“Rubbing your stomach like that. Caressing the baby.”
The sweet sentiment, along with the appreciative way he studied her, darn near sucked the air from her lungs.
He lifted his hand toward her tummy. “Do you mind...?”
She didn’t mind, but the question came as such a surprise that she could hardly speak. When she nodded, he leaned forward, placed a splayed hand on her baby bump and gave it a gentle, almost reverent stroke. Then he withdrew it and shrugged a single shoulder. “I’m sorry. I was...curious. I’ve never—”
“No,” she said, her voice whisper soft, as she placed her own hand where his had been. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“This might sound lame, but I like seeing the maternal side of you. It adds a whole new dimension to the strong woman I’ve come to know and admire.”
His sincerity, his praise, warmed her heart.
“Just so you know,” he said, “I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable last night—when I kissed you.”
The kiss itself hadn’t made her uncomfortable. It was the feelings it stirred up, feelings that had been much too real for a fake engagement. “I got a little uneasy afterward, but it was nice while it was happening.”
His head tilted slightly. “It was only nice?”
She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip. “That’s how you described it.”
“I wasn’t being entirely honest.” He tossed her a playful grin that could easily turn her brain to mush again—if she’d let it. But that kiss had been too hot for comfort.
