Make Believe Engagement

by Day Leclaire

  “Why, JT, how lovely to see you,” the woman behind the counter greeted him. “I didn’t realize you were coming for a visit.”

  “Hello, Joanie. Didn’t Elizabeth tell you? I’m staying at the resort for the next two weeks.” He slipped an arm around Taylor’s shoulders, drawing her forward. “This is my fiancee, Taylor Davis. I believe the reservations are in her name.”

  Joanie offered a hand, her smile huge and delighted. “It’s a pleasure, Ms. Davis. Welcome to Bride’s Bay Resort. If there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

  Joanie consulted a printout and made a quick notation. “You’re in the Presidential Suite.” She glanced at Taylor. “It’s really just two adjoining bedrooms with a bathroom in between on the second floor. Your balcony has an incredible view of the ocean. Shall I have Shadroe show you up?”

  “No, don’t bother,” JT said. “Though I’d appreciate it if he’d drop by when he gets a chance.”

  “What about your luggage? Is it outside?”

  “No. It’s coming on a later ferry. I’ve arranged for Trotter to bring it over in his cab.”

  Joanie laughed. “Let me guess. You had trouble fitting it all on the Harley. Heaven forbid you leave that bike of yours at home.” She glanced from one to the other. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

  Taylor improvised at the speed of light. “At a party.”

  “I knocked her down with my motorcycle,” JT replied in the same instant.

  “He knocked me down with his motorcycle at a party,” she elaborated, throwing him a warning glare.

  He folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “Get it straight, Princess. You were at the party. I was just passing by.”

  She rounded on him. So she lacked spontaneity, did she? She’d show him spontaneity. “Passing by? Try tearing by! That policeman clocked you doing fifty miles an hour in a twenty-five zone. You could have killed me. I limped for a week.”

  “Which is why I kept you in bed that long. Doctor’s orders.” A slow suggestive smile crept across his mouth. “I sure did like that doctor. He told us to elevate and by heaven, we elevated.”

  “You… I…” A hectic flush stained her cheeks, her spontaneity only going so far. “Elevate my knee. That’s what we elevated. My knee.“

  “Whatever you say.” He turned to an openly laughing Joanie. “I think it’s time I escorted my bride-to-be to our room.”

  Joanie nodded and handed JT an ornate brass key. “Enjoy your stay.”

  “Thanks. Kind of strange seeing you handling reservations, instead of sitting behind the concierge desk.”

  “Oh, I’m just filling in for Liz.”

  “She was in that helicopter we saw taking off?”

  “Sure was.” Joanie leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Though where she’s going and who she’s going to meet is the talk of the island. The pilot won’t say a word.”

  JT grinned. “If I find out, I’ll let you know. Talk to you later, Joanie. It’s good to see you. Oh, and congratulations on your marriage. I understand you’ve gained both a husband and a daughter.”

  She practically beamed. “I sure did. I look forward to introducing you.”

  Taylor waited until they were climbing the sweeping staircase before asking the question uppermost in her mind. “Who’s Liz?”

  “She’s Elizabeth Jermain’s granddaughter. Elizabeth is the owner, and Liz manages the hotel.”

  “That’s a lot of responsibility.” Taylor peeked at him from beneath her lashes. “Is Liz… young?”

  “I have a year or two on her. She’s—” he shrugged “—I don’t know. Thirty-three, thirty-four. Somewhere in there.”

  “Oh.” Taylor couldn’t resist asking one final question. “Is she married?”

  “No. And before you ask, we were never involved. Satisfied?”

  “I wasn’t going to ask that,” she protested vehemently. “I never even thought it.”

  “No, of course not.” They’d reached the landing. “Honest to a fault, right, Princess?”

  She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I am honest.”

  “Whatever you say. The suite’s to the left.”

  She marched down the hallway, standing to one side while he unlocked the door. “All right, fine. I wasn’t completely honest,” she confessed, furious with herself for lying, but more furious with him for knowing she lied. “I wanted to find out whether or not you two had ever… were ever…”

  “I already told you.” He shoved the door open. “We weren’t.”

  “I realize that. Now.” She crossed the threshold, not even glancing at the room. “Maybe I shouldn’t have asked any questions, but I thought it might be important. After all, if I’m to act the part of your fiancee, I should know these things.”

  “Princess?”

  She folded her arms across her chest. “What?”

  “You talk too much,” he said, and kicked the door shut.

  Without warning, he snatched her into his arms and tossed her onto a huge four-poster bed. He followed her down before she had time to draw breath, let alone react. “Now I have a question for you.”

  She swallowed. “And I’ll be happy to answer it—just as soon as you let me up.”

  “Not a chance. This is one of those lying-down sort of questions.”

  She stared at him in confusion, her eyes huge and dark and vulnerable. For the moment, the corporate executive had vanished, leaving the woman behind. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve never heard of a lying-down question?” She shook her head, her hair spilling across the bedspread like strands of gold. He couldn’t resist. He slipped his hands into her hair, tangling his fingers in the silken curls. “Well, it’s a question that can only be asked when you’re lying down.”

  “I don’t think-”

  “Good. Don’t think. Just answer my question.”

  She moistened her lips. “What’s the question?” she whispered.

  “I’ve been wondering about this all day. Do all of you suit-and-tie businesswomen wear silk stockings and garters?” He brushed her mouth with a feather-light kiss. “Or are you an exception to the rule?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TAYLOR’S EYES WIDENED, bright color washing into her face. “How did you know I wore…?”

  “Let’s just say that the combination of a Harley, a fast ride and a passenger in a skirt adds up to quite a view.” JT dropped his hand to her knee, sliding upward until he located the precise spot where the silk stockings ended and satin-smooth skin began. “An unforgettable view.”

  Her breathing grew fast and shallow. “Let me up, JT. I can’t allow this to go any further.”

  “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “And I don’t intend to, either.” She shifted beneath him in an attempt to escape.

  “Not wise,” he warned.

  “What isn’t wise? Answering you?”

  “No. Moving like that.”

  To his amusement, her color deepened. How was it possible that a woman well into her twenties still had the ability to blush? Had no one ever teased her before? Complimented her? He remembered again her comments outside the hotel. What had she said? Something about the men she knew comparing her looks to Boss’s and treating marriage like a merger.

  He didn’t doubt that a few of the less intelligent ones might think of her in terms of a balance sheet. To than Boss Daniels and his corporation would be a huge asset—though to him the package added up to one giant debit. But the majority couldn’t be that blind. Surely they saw the velvety blackness of her gaze, the generous curves of her breasts and hips, the long slender legs—as well as the shrewd intelligence lurking behind the stunning appearance.

  Unless her innocence was an act.

  After all, she was a Daniels.

  And deceit came as naturally to a Daniels as
breathing.

  “JT, please. I’d like to get up.”

  She hadn’t twitched since his warning, he realized with grim amusement. Either her nervousness was genuine, or previous bedroom high jinks had taught her caution. His eyes narrowed as one other possibility occurred to him. This shy virginal act she had going could be an elaborate game perpetuated by a not-so-shy, far-from-virginal corporate player. It might be interesting to find out which it was. Perhaps he’d tempt her a little and see if he held a woman in his arms—or Boss’s daughter.

  “I’ll let you up,” he told her. “Just as soon as you answer my question.” He fingered the lace garter and released the catch on the front strap.

  Her breath escaped in a soft gasp. “I don’t remember your question,” she confessed in a strangled voice.

  He lifted her knee and slid his hand around to the back of her thigh, feeling her quiver in reaction. “Garters. Do all you suit-and-tie types wear garters?” With a quick flick of his thumb, he popped the second catch.

  “I’ll answer! No more, JT. I swear I’ll answer your question if you stop.”

  He splayed his hand across the back of her thigh, his fingers caressing her with slow feather-light circles. “I’m waiting.”

  She trembled, her words spilling out in a breathless rush. “As far as I know I’m the only one in the office who wears garters and stockings—except for one man in accounting. But I’m not positive about him. JT, don’t! You said you’d let me go if I answered your question.”

  “I lied.”

  She started to protest and he took instant advantage, stealing a lingering kiss. He didn’t overwhelm her with a rough passionate embrace, but offered a slow gentle assault. Her response came just as gradually. He felt her initial hesitation, a momentary resistance as reason fought temptation. Her hands crept along his chest, her fingers spread wide as though ready to push him away— and he sensed her internal conflict, knew that everything hung in the balance as the sensible dispassionate business executive fought to regain control.

  But it was the woman who won out. With a whispered sigh she relaxed against him, and her hands slipped around his neck. What he would have lost by aggression, he won through persuasion, her response well worth his restraint.

  She opened to him with all the delicacy of a rose unfolding in the warmth of the sun, her lips parting, deepening the kiss. She tasted fresh and minty, her mouth soft and moist and lush. He could lose himself in her embrace, he realized, lose himself for hours on end, maybe for days on end. He’d only meant to tease her, perhaps snatch a quick kiss. But all that changed the minute he heard that distinctive sigh, the sound low and urgent and irresistible.

  He slid his hand deep into her hair again, tilting her head, his fingers catching in a tangle of soft golden ringlets and a wayward pearl necklace. He wanted her. He wanted to strip away her clothes and make love to her until exhaustion overtook them. And then he wanted to start all over again.

  A knock sounded at the door, hitting him like a bucket of ice water. Taylor remained oblivious, totally caught up in their embrace, but he knew who was at the door. He also knew that Shad wouldn’t wait for a response. Sure enough, a key scraped in the lock and the door swung open.

  JT broke off the kiss but made no effort to move. As awkward as the situation would soon be, he had to see Taylor’s expression when awareness returned, to look into her eyes with all the barriers down. In that brief moment he’d learn the truth. Learn whether he held a woman in his arms or a corporate puppet. He’d know if her feelings were real—or by design. Her lashes fluttered and she blinked up at him. In that instant he had his answer. Raw passion blazed within her black eyes, naked and undeniable and scalding hot.

  And all he could think about was protecting her from his uncle’s knowing gaze.

  “Am I interrupting?” Shad asked from the doorway, amusement lacing his voice.

  “Wait,” JT growled in warning. But it was too late. She bolted upright, and her necklace, still tangled in his fingers, snapped. Pearls flew, raining across the bed and floor.

  Taylor paled, staring at the broken necklace with wide horrified eyes, reliving the wild impossible image she’d had earlier that day. A four-poster bed waiting for them on an island resort. JT stripping her piece by piece, clothing discarded in enthusiastic abandon. And a broken string of pearls scattered across the rug.

  She shut her eyes. The only difference between fact and fantasy was that they were still dressed—a detail that owed more to luck than planning. If they’d been interrupted a few minutes later… She couldn’t bear to think about it. Her apprehensive gaze swung to the door. To her relief JT stood, placing himself between her and their visitor.

  “Hello, Shad,” JT said. “Your timing leaves something to be desired, but it’s good to see you again.”

  “You did request that I drop by,” came the brusque reply. “Hand me the basket, boy.” He turned and barked the order to someone behind him. “I’ll take it from here.”

  By the time he’d turned back, Taylor had scrambled from the bed and straightened her clothes. “Don’t worry about the pearls,” JT said in an undertone. “I’ll pick them up later.”

  Shad entered the room carrying a huge basket of fruit. “Compliments of the management, Ms. Davis,” he said, acting as though finding resort guests in a passionate bedroom clinch was a normal everyday occurrence. “Welcome to Bride’s Bay Resort. I’m Shadroe, the bell captain. If there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable, don’t hesitate to ask.”

  “Shad’s our resident historian,” JT inserted. “Any questions you have about the island, he’s the man with the answers.”

  Taylor’s expression brightened and she stepped forward, offering her hand. “A pleasure to—” She shot a sudden panicked glance in JTs direction. “A pleasure to meet you, Shadroe,” she finished in a nervous rush.

  JT frowned at her, and she knew he didn’t have a clue as to what had gone wrong. He didn’t catch on until a wisp of silk drifted from beneath her skirt, puddling around her ankle. Then he grinned. “Take the basket into the adjoining room, would you, Shad?”

  “Of course.” Without missing a beat, the bell captain disappeared through a set of double oak doors.

  “Where’s the bathroom?” she demanded the moment they were alone.

  “No need,” he said, stooping at her feet. “I’ll fix this.”

  “No! Don’t. I can do it.”

  “It’ll only take a minute.”

  “Just tell me where—”

  She broke off with a disbelieving gasp. Dear heaven! Never in her entire life had a man performed such an intimate task for her. His hands were large and callused, but they stroked her leg with infinite care, caressing the loose stocking into place. Inch by agonizing inch he slid the scrap of silk from ankle to calf to knee. He hesitated at her thigh, his thumbs drifting upward in a brief torturous foray. Her legs buckled and she thrust her hands into his thick dark hair to keep from falling.

  “I’m warning you,” she whispered hoarsely, choking on the words. “Don’t you dare—Dammit, JT, stop that!”

  “You don’t want me to fasten your garter?” he asked with mock innocence.

  “I—” Her voice broke and she tried again. “I can fasten it myself.”

  “Don’t bother,” he said, shooting her a wicked grin. “I’m already there.”

  She clamped her mouth shut, realizing she could either let him finish or put up a struggle. And if she did that, she’d lose her balance and tumble to the floor. She groaned, the graphic picture she conjured up an all-tooreal possibility. It seemed to take forever for him to secure the stocking, and she glared at the top of his head.

  “Hurry up,” she urged, yanking at his hair. “He’s coming. The bell captain’s coming!”

  His hand lingered for an endless moment and then he stood, whisking her skirt into place. By the time Shad reentered the room, JT had retreated to the window.

  “I’ll bring u
p your luggage as soon as it arrives,” Shad said. “And I’ve made arrangements for Marie to unpack your bags. Is there anything else I can do for you in the meantime?”

  “No, thanks,” JT replied, slipping the man a bill.

  Shad’s mustache twitched. “Very generous, sir. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

  “I’m sure we will,” JT replied blandly. The minute the door closed he turned and gave her a mocking smile. “That should do the trick, don’t you think?”

  Taylor stared at him blankly. “Pardon me?”

  “Shad’s timing was impeccable,” JT said, satisfaction clear in his voice. “If that little performance didn’t convince them we’re a happily engaged couple, nothing will.”

  Taylor stared at the rumpled bed, fighting for composure. Performance? Is that all it had been? The way he’d held her, the way he’d kissed her, the passion that had marked his face—it had all been an act for the benefit of the hotel staff? Her mouth trembled for a brief telling moment before she regained control. Well, why not. That’s all it had been for her, right?

  She swallowed. Right?

  THE HORSE SHIFTED beneath her, swaying with a long easy stride. Taylor tried again to match the horse’s rhythm, but every time he rocked, she rolled, resulting in her backside hitting the saddle with a spine-jarring bounce.

  “Haven’t you ever ridden before?” JT asked, trotting up beside.

  “No.”

  “Well, Joe-Pye’s too lazy to give you any trouble. Just move the way he does and you’ll do fine.”

  She ducked to avoid a branch and shot JT a fulminating glare. “If I could move the way he does, I would. But he’s attempting to waltz with a partner who only jitterbugs. That doesn’t make for a successful dance.”

  He chuckled. “I can see that. Perhaps if you stopped analyzing the dance steps and just listened to the music, you’d find waltzing a breeze.”

  “To be perfectly honest, I don’t want to ride any more than I want to dance. What I really want to do is question the staff. You interrupted my conversation with Joanie. She’d just started giving me a lot of fantastic details when you swooped down.”