by Rita Herron
Lord, get me through this. And I will never ever switch places with Marci again. From now on, it's Kimberly all the way. Marci can get herself out of her own messes.
"Kimberly, dear, how did you and my son meet?" Mrs. McDane tucked her curly brown hair behind one ear, a thin gold chain sparkling on her arm.
Kimberly sipped more of the bubbly champagne, coughing as it burned a path down her throat. That along with the lies. She and Austin should have come up with a story.
Why hadn't they planned it better?
"Um, we met through my sister," she said. At least that much was true.
Suddenly Austin slid up behind her and curved his arm around her waist again. "How's it going, darlin'?"
Kimberly forced a smile, trying to imitate her sister's lighthearted demeanor. "Your mother wanted to know how we met."
"At a restaurant in Atlanta," Austin answered quickly. Kimberly froze, wondering if Mrs. McDane caught the awkward moment.
"Really?" Mrs. McDane asked, her eyes narrowed. "She said her sister introduced you."
Austin paused briefly, the only indication he'd noticed the slip. "Oh, she did. Her sister works at the restaurant."
Kimberly gulped.
Thankfully the tinkle of silver spoons against long-stemmed crystal glasses quieted the conversation and saved them from more questions.
"Since I'm Austin's best friend," Josh said, raising his glass, "I want to propose a toast." Marilyn stood beside him, her brilliant smile directed at Austin.
"To my best friend," Josh said. "And to his bride-to-be. May you be as happy as Marilyn and I are."
The crowd echoed the sentiment. A strange, dangerously heated expression covered Austin's face as he tossed back his champagne and stared into Kimberly's eyes.
"You don’t have to worry about that," Austin said, caressing her fingers with his.
Then he pulled her into his arms, tipped her head back and whispered in her ear, "I've been dying to do this all night."
Without waiting for a response, he pressed his mouth to hers in a kiss so wild and hungry, yet so tender she almost believed that the sizzling heat between them was real.
But she couldn't think that way. It wasn't real. It was just an act.
Guilt clouded her desire, and a dull ache rolled through her chest as he pulled away. These people had opened their hearts and their homes and welcomed her with love.
We love her already, his mother had said.
But what would they say if they knew the truth? That their son was lying to them? That she was nobody special to him at all?
Chapter 3
A few minutes later, Kimberly stumbled up the stairs, Austin's hand cradling her elbow for support. Her legs wobbled and she pressed her lips together, the imprint of Austin's mouth still fresh on hers.
She had never been kissed like that before.
Not so the floor seemed to move beneath her feet. Not so the ceiling spun in circles, dazzling her with soft, muted shades of sparkling light.
Not so she'd wanted to jump the guy's bones right in front of his parents.
Austin probably hadn't felt a thing.
Well, maybe he'd felt something—men couldn't exactly control their physical reactions, but his insides probably weren't quaking and his mind a jumbled mess like hers.
"Mom said you should stay in my old room," Austin said when they made it to the end of the hall.
Kimberly turned to face him, anxiety knotting her shoulders. "I can't do that."
"Look, Kimberly, I'm tired and so are you." Austin ran a hand through his hair again, once more spiking the ends sideways. He looked so adorable, Kimberly barely resisted the urge to stroke the errant strands down over his forehead.
"But where will you sleep?"
"In the guest room. Mom insists that you have my room because it's bigger." He gave her a teasing look. "That is, unless you want us to share?"
"I don’t think your parents would appreciate that." Kimberly glanced nervously toward the door. The thought of sleeping in the bed Austin had once slept in unnerved her. But the thought of sharing a room with him made her chest flutter with want. A want she couldn’t satisfy. "I'll take the guest room."
Austin frowned. "I'm not going to argue about this. Mom will think I've forgotten my manners if you don't take my room. And I'd just as soon not make waves with her."
Kimberly bit her tongue as she studied his face. She still wasn't sure why an independent, intelligent man needed to pretend he was engaged. Why didn't he just tell his parents the truth? Why had he brought her along?
He pushed open the door and nudged her inside. Kimberly instantly caught sight of baseball trophies, a globe on a polished oak desk, and a model airplane dangling in the corner. A Fleetwood Mac poster and a concert photo of the Rolling Stones hung side by side on the wall, and a blue plaid comforter covered a massive oak bed. "It's lovely."
"Mom hasn't changed it since I was a teenager. She said she's keeping it for her grandchildren." He grinned as if embarrassed by his mother's sentimentality, then his gaze rested on a group of framed family snapshots on the wall, and he automatically looked away and cleared his throat. "I'd better let you get to bed."
"Okay." Kimberly was mesmerized by his solemn expression, the fine line of stubble darkening his chin, and the creases below his eyes. "You look beat, too, Austin."
"It's been a long day," Austin agreed, heat simmering in his eyes.
Kimberly nodded, the urge to yank him to her for another one of his mind-boggling kisses almost overwhelming.
"Uh, Kimberly, we share the bathroom between the rooms." Austin hesitated, staring silently at her mouth for several long, tense seconds. A sliver of desire warmed her insides.
Then he grinned, that quirky smile that made her want to melt like hot fudge, lowered his head and traced a finger along her arm. "You may want to lock the door when you shower, darlin'." He whispered the words against her cheek, brushed her lips quickly with his, then smiled and closed the door.
Kimberly touched her fingers to her mouth. A thousand wonderful sensations tingled inside her, sending alarm bells chiming in her head.
Why was she reacting so strongly to Austin? If she wasn't careful, she'd completely overdo the fiancée act and make a fool of herself by falling for him.
She quickly found her overnight bag, stripped her clothes, and donned a sleepshirt. After scrubbing her teeth and face, she climbed into the oak bed, her body aching from exhaustion, her mind wide awake from craving another kiss like the one she'd shared earlier with Austin.
Had the kiss been only a show for his family? If so, what would happen if Austin's passion were real and he unleashed it?
Hugging his cuddly old teddy bear to her chest, she sank lower under the covers, trying to erase the images from her mind by focusing on her plans for the center back home. The problems, the bills, the renovations... but the faint scent of Austin's cologne permeated the room and the sensation of Austin's touch remained with her. And his family—they were the kind she'd always wanted.
Except she didn't feel at all sisterly toward Austin.
Ridiculous for her to feel a part of a family. She was a fake.
It was just too bad this wonderful family came with a sexy bachelor who had already stated that he wanted a pretend fiancée—not a real one. The very reason he'd asked Marci—she was the unattachable type. The trouble was—she was Kimberly and Kimberly was very much the attachable type.
The shower kicked on, and she imagined Austin standing stark naked, his dark skin glistening under the warm pelting spray of the water, his muscled body hard, his sex jutting out thick and long...
She punched the pillow and jumped from the bed to pace the room, totally disgusted with herself. Her fingers absent-mindedly slid around the engagement ring, and she twisted it in circles as she paced. What was wrong with her? She never had thoughts like that.
She had to stay focused. She had agreed to this arrangement to earn money for the center
. Lately she'd been so dedicated to her work, she'd forgotten what it was like to be with a man.
When this weekend was over, she’d get out more, accept an occasional date. There was that guy, Benny—no, he'd lost three jobs in the last two months. Ralph—no, he'd already been married two times, not a good sign. Tom—he was quiet, but he was a counselor who worked hard with the kids. And he had asked her out for coffee a couple of times. Sure, there hadn't been any sexual attraction, but maybe it would come.
Her resolve firm, she studied the framed photographs on the wall. There were baseball and basketball shots, then a picture of a doll house he'd obviously built for his sister. The two of them were standing beside it, Austin's arm draped affectionately around Rebecca. A lump formed in Kimberly's throat, but she swallowed and pushed away the melancholy, studying the other photos.
A candid shot of Josh and Marilyn and Austin caught her eye. Marilyn stood in the middle with both guys' arms slung around her shoulder. They looked as if they were the best of friends. No wonder Austin had wanted to come to the wedding.
A little more relaxed, she climbed into bed, pausing only momentarily to stare at the diamond on her finger. Only three days and she'd be back at home, back at work, and this whole weekend would be a ridiculous memory.
She’d be single and free and she’d never see Austin again. Then she could forget these crazy fantasies...
* * *
Fantasies of Kimberly had tormented Austin while he showered.
Dammit, he could not go there, not with this woman.
He toweled the cold water droplets from his body, grateful the frigid shower had cooled him down. Only three more days to go before they headed back to Atlanta. Back to work. Back to the old routine. Back to seeing Kimberly as Marci, the cocktail waitress who flirted with every guy in pants.
How in the hell was he going to make the weekend with his sanity intact? Especially with this different woman—Kimberly. Why had he never realized how attracted he was to her at the restaurant?
Tonight, he'd been so hot for her he'd had to make a hasty exit from his old room for fear he'd forget about his parents downstairs and make good on the promises and heat he'd felt in her lithe body. He remembered the dazed look in her brilliant blue eyes and was grateful she'd been too stunned to make a sound.
If she'd groaned, he would have lost it right there. Nothing excited him more than hearing a woman’s soft sounds of ecstasy.
What kinds of sounds would Kimberly make—cat-like purrs, wild screams of pleasure, or husky murmurs and erotic words of longing?
Austin dropped to the floor and did a hundred push-ups, trying desperately to rid himself of his sexual frustration. Maybe he should have insisted he and Kimberly stay at a hotel. He shook his head, his mind full of conflicting thoughts. His parents would never have gone for it.
Besides, he wasn't sure he wanted to have a fling with Kimberly. He didn't want to be another man she added to her list like the charms on her bracelet.
Then again, when they'd kissed, her body had responded with a sensual fire that promised much more. He sighed in disgust, rolling on his back as he remembered the reason Kimberly had agreed to come along. He was paying her two thousand dollars. She was just pretending.
But after that kiss, he’d practically had to hold her up climbing the stairs. Had her response to him been an act? If so, she was a damn good liar. Not an admirable quality either.
She was also a lounge waitress—she didn't seem to have a career-oriented bone in her body. She flounced her assets around for other men to ogle—not the kind of woman he'd want for a wife.
Not that he was in the market for a wife, but if he was, he'd want a respectable woman who would be proud of his work, a woman who would probably have her own career, a woman who was nurturing and caring and—a sexy woman who had a body and eyes and mouth just like Kimberly's.
Damn. A woman like that didn't exist.
A good marriage meant a real commitment and right now he was married to his company. His own dad could have made it past the lower level at the tobacco plant if he hadn't gotten married and had a family.
Hours later, with the sheets tangled around him, eyes wide open, and thoughts of Kimberly still driving him crazy, Austin crawled from bed and dragged out his laptop. If he couldn't sleep, he might as well get some work done.
* * *
Kimberly was tired of wrestling with the covers. Ragged and exhausted from her sleepless night, she dragged herself from Austin's bed, knocked on the bathroom door to make sure she didn't walk in on Austin, then locked the door and showered.
Still sleepy, she studied her reflection in the mirror, the childhood rhyme she and Marci had recited when they'd teased one another springing to mind. Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the sexiest twin of all?
"Marci, definitely Marci," Kimberly mouthed, disgusted with the dark circles under her eyes.
Austin's aftershave and masculine scent filled the small room and his razor and toothbrush on the counter seemed somehow intimate. She slipped on her long silk robe, deciding any sexual attraction she'd thought Austin had felt for her the night before must have been a figment of her overactive imagination. Needing to know the agenda for the day so she'd dress appropriately, she knocked on his door.
When he didn't answer, she rapped a little louder, then eased open the door and froze when she saw Austin slumped over the desk with his head resting on his arm. Marci's comment about him sleeping with his laptop came to mind and she smiled, wondering if he slept with it because he didn't have a woman in his bed.
She padded over to him, her bedroom slippers squishing into the thick carpet. His long dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks. Then, as if he sensed her presence, he roused from sleep and looked up at her.
"Um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."
"What time is it?" he asked, his raspy voice sending a shiver through her.
"About seven." His gaze roamed over her, and Kimberly realized her mistake in coming into the room—she was wearing nothing but a silky robe. He wore only pajama bottoms. Dark hair curled on his chest and tapered to a vee at the waistband, making her imagine what lay lower.
She had to fight to keep her breathing steady.
He sat up but winced in pain, then rubbed his neck. "Damn. I have a crick in my neck."
Kimberly hesitated, reminding herself she was supposed to be her bold sister and reached out to touch his neck and shoulders. "Relax, I'll massage it for you."
"Thanks, but you don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine."
He tried to move again and pain etched his face.
"Don’t be silly," Kimberly said as she moved up behind him. "I’m pretty good with my hands."
"I don’t doubt that."
His deep voice sent a tiny thrill through her, and he dropped his head forward, making small sounds of pleasure as she worked the kinks from his sore muscles. When her hands caressed his lower neck, he shifted slightly. "Thanks, that feels great."
She kneaded and worked the tension from his shoulders and he pressed his face into his hand and groaned again, the erotic sound making her tremble.
"God, you are good with your hands. Don't stop," he whispered.
She swallowed at his husky plea, her breathing faltering as her fingers squeezed the firm, hard muscles of his shoulders.
Against her will, her eyes strayed to the ring on her hand, and her chest clenched with longing.
Slowly she felt him relaxing. "You don't feel quite so tense now."
"That's what you think," he muttered.
"What?"
"Nothing, it feels wonderful."
Kimberly sucked in a harsh breath, desperate to ignore her body's reaction to the hunger in his eyes.
"Did you sleep well?"
His dark eyes locked with hers and the truth lingered on the tip of her tongue. But there was no way she’d admit to dreaming about him all night, to wanting him.
"Yes, fine," she managed to say.
>
Something hot and wicked flickered in his expression, but sounds from the rooms below startled him. He stood up so abruptly he accidentally knocked the glass of water off the table with his elbow. It splattered across the desk and onto Kimberly.
They both zeroed in on the wet spots soaking the front of Kimberly's robe. Her first instinct was to cover herself; the wet silk was molded to her curves in the most intimate of places.
"Kimberly?" Austin cupped her face in his hand.
"Austin—"
A loud pounding at the door cut off Kimberly's words. "Austin, Kimberly, are you up?" They jumped apart guiltily as Austin's brother, Philip, swung open the door.
"Um, Mom said breakfast is almost ready. She’ll keep it warm for you." Kimberly crossed her arms over her chest at Philip's wicked grin. "Looks like you two are hot enough—"
Austin narrowed his eyes. "Shut up, little brother."
"Don’t sweat it, bro. You are engaged." Philip laughed and closed the door.
Kimberly refused to look at Austin. Cheeks flaming, she ran through the bathroom and into Austin's old room, then shut and locked the door, completely mortified—and determined to get herself under control.
* * *
"Pancakes are delicious, Mom," Austin said a few minutes later.
His mother handed him a pitcher of maple syrup. "Where's that lovely fiancée of yours?"
Probably hiding in my old room. "She'll be down in a minute." Austin dribbled syrup over his hotcakes and imagined what she was doing—getting dressed. Too bad he couldn't be up there helping her.
Better yet, helping undress her.
Philip winked at him from across the table and Austin gritted his teeth. His little brother had always been a pest. Obviously he hadn't outgrown the habit.
"She certainly is a lovely girl," his mother said. "I'm looking forward to getting to know her better today."
A warning bell sounded in Austin's head. What did she have planned, an inquisition for Kimberly?
"I'm sure she's looking forward to it, too," he said cautiously.
