“Not the ones these days. Let’s see what they suggest, hmm? And if you’re uncomfortable with contacts maybe we’ll just choose some different frames for you. Something a bit softer that makes the most of your bone structure.”
Maggie sat back in her chair. She’d always been too scared to try contacts before but she had to admit she was very much over the frames she’d been wearing for the past few years. One day, once all Jason’s student loans were squared away, she’d maybe consider Lasik eye surgery, but that was still some time away.
“Okay, I’ll give them a try,” she said, making up her mind.
When Paige Adams talked makeover, she really meant makeover, Maggie thought later as she studied her reflection. Not only was she now wearing contact lenses, which didn’t irritate her eyes, but, at the day spa at the Tennis Club, she’d been treated to a body wrap and facial, along with a pedicure and manicure. Right now, she felt both boneless and pampered. The crowning glory had come when she’d been shown to another section of the beauty spa where her hair had been subjected to a deep conditioning treatment and a restyle which saw the ends of her hair brush softly to her collarbone in soft, dark and lustrous tresses.
She barely recognized herself. The makeup artist who’d taken some time to show her how to make the most of her cheekbones and eyes had exclaimed loudly and often over how exquisite her skin was. By the time her cape was removed and the new polished and pampered Margaret Cole was revealed, even Paige let loose a long, low whistle of appreciation.
“Oh, yes,” Paige said with a knowing smile. “Mr. Tanner is going to be very pleased indeed.”
She cast a glance at her watch.
“We’d better get you dressed and up to his suite. It’s almost seven-thirty and he doesn’t strike me as the type of guy who likes to be kept waiting.”
Butterflies suddenly massed in an attack squadron in the pit of her stomach. No, Will Tanner most definitely wasn’t the type of guy who liked to be kept waiting.
Paige picked up the garment bag that held the black cocktail dress William had so admired, as well as the tissue-wrapped selection from the lingerie store that Paige had insisted she wear beneath it.
“Here, slip into these and let’s see how gorgeous you look.”
Maggie felt as if she were trapped in an alternate universe. These kinds of things just didn’t happen in her world. The shopping, the makeover, the sheer quality of the stockings she slid up over her waxed and polished legs—it was like something from a dream. By the time she slid the dress carefully over her hair and makeup, and tugged the zipper closed, she was feeling a little light-headed.
She laid a hand against her stomach in a bid to quell her nerves but they simply wouldn’t be suppressed.
“Everything okay in there?” Paige asked from outside the cubicle.
“Y-yes, I’m fine.”
“So come on out and show us the final result,” Paige coaxed.
Maggie took a deep breath, pushed her feet into the high-heeled, black pumps and took a quick look in the mirror. It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be. She gave herself a tentative, somewhat secretive, smile in the mirror. Even the lush ruby red painted lips didn’t seem like her own.
The glamorous creature staring back at her was not the same Maggie Cole who’d left home this morning already feeling as if she was at the end of her tether. No, this was the kind of woman she’d always wished she could be but had never had the courage to reach for. This was Margaret Cole.
Strangely, the nerves jumping about in her belly settled and a sense of calm descended over her. She could do this. She could be the woman William Tanner needed her to be. She’d do it for Jason and, even more importantly, for herself.
Margaret closed her eyes and turned from the mirror, mentally leaving her old self behind. From now on she was Margaret Cole, fiancée and executive assistant to one of the most powerful men in Cameron Enterprises.
Both the staff of the day spa and Paige were full of praise for the final effect and it was with a sense of deep accomplishment that Margaret blushingly accepted everyone’s compliments. In her hand she clutched a vintage beaded evening bag, a gift from Paige whose violet eyes had swum with tears of pride as she’d given it to her.
“Here, a little something from me,” she’d said, giving Margaret a careful hug. “Now don’t go all mushy on me or you’ll ruin your makeup.”
Margaret took the admonishment and with everyone’s cheers of good wishes ringing in her ears, she approached the accommodation wing.
Will inhaled the aroma of the New Zealand Pinot Noir he’d had shipped from his cellar in New York to Vista Del Mar and anticipated savoring the myriad complex flavors that promised to dance across his taste buds. He was struck by the similarities between the simply labeled, yet award-winning wine, and the woman who was about to join him.
Today he’d caught glimpses of the siren she promised to be. The siren he hoped to have warming his sheets before too long. The siren who’d appease his father and ensure the land that had been in his family for two centuries would remain that way. He wanted the farm with a need that went soul deep. A need that had nestled in his heart from the first school holiday he’d spent tagging along behind his grandfather as he’d labored day in, day out, on the soil he loved above all other things. Even now he could still feel the strength of his grandfather’s gnarled, work-worn hand holding his as they’d strolled across the fields. It had never been about the money for the old man. He’d always said there was an energy about the land that gave back to him four-fold what he put into it. And even on those rare school holiday visits, Will had understood what his grandfather had been talking about. It was a type of magic he didn’t want to lose. Ever.
And now he didn’t have to lose it. Margaret would undoubtedly ensure that his dream became a reality. The cost of today’s exercise, already emailed to him by the ever-efficient Paige Adams, was a small investment as far as Will was concerned. One he’d make sure paid off in full.
A knock at the door made everything inside him tighten in anticipation. Slowly, deliberately, he placed the crystal wine goblet on the coffee table and went to open the door. He didn’t even stop to check the peep hole. He knew to the soles of his feet exactly who stood on the opposite side.
A twist of his wrist and the door swung open to reveal Margaret in all her glory. And what glory. For the first time in his living memory, William Tanner was speechless. His eyes feasted on the virtual stranger framed in the doorway. Every feminine curve displayed to absolute perfection. Her hair a shining swath of black silk that made his fingers itch to run through it. Her makeup so perfect that with her ivory skin she almost looked like a grown-up china doll.
Every cell in his body rejoiced. She was flawless elegance and beauty personified. Finally, he found his voice.
“You look amazing,” he said, reaching for her free hand and drawing her inside to twirl her around slowly. “How do you feel?”
“Like Cinderella,” Margaret admitted, with that small smile playing around her lips.
The type of smile that alluded to so much more going through her mind than the few simple words she’d spoken.
“I’m beginning to regret making the booking for dinner at Jacques’ tonight,” Will said.
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Because I don’t know if I’m ready to share this version of you with anyone else.”
He couldn’t help the note of possession in his voice. She was Galatea to his Pygmalion, and he wanted to keep her all to himself. To explore every facet of her transformation, and then to remove each layer of her new sophistication before laying the true Margaret Cole bare to his eyes and to his hungering body.
Margaret dipped her head shyly and Will had to acknowledge the stark reminder that while, externally at least, Margaret was everything he needed in a female companion, beneath the luxurious trappings his money had provided she was still a small-town girl. Albeit a small-town girl with a magnetic appeal that threatened to
scramble his wits.
He forced his lips into a smile.
“But don’t worry. I’m not going to be quite so selfish as to keep you all to myself. Not this time, anyway.”
“I’m pleased to hear it. I’ve been looking forward to dinner.”
“Would you like a glass of wine before we go? I’m sure Henri will hold our table a little longer.”
Margaret nodded; the movement a sensual inclination of her elegant neck. Oh, how he looked forward to exploring every inch of her starting with that spot right there in the hollow of her throat.
“I’d like that,” she said.
Will stepped away from her before he did something stupid, like obey his instincts and ruffle up some of that poise she wore like a cloak around her.
“Do you like red wine? I have an excellent Pinot Noir open.”
“I can’t say I’ve tried that variety before but I’m willing to give it a go.”
He picked up the bottle and poured a second glass of the bright ruby-colored liquid.
“Here,” he said, handing her the goblet. “Smell it first and tell me what comes to mind.”
Margaret took the glass from him, and lifted it to her nose. She closed her eyes and inhaled gently, all her senses focused on what he’d instructed her to do. Her eyes flew open.
“I can smell plums and berries. Is that right? It makes me think of summer and long lazy days.”
“That’s spot on. You have a good nose. Now taste it and let me know what you think.”
She pressed the glass to her lower lip and tipped it gently, allowing a small sip of the beverage to enter the soft recesses of her mouth. Will felt as if he’d received a punch to his gut as he watched, totally mesmerized, while she swallowed then licked her lips. It was nothing more than a swift dart of her tongue over the plump fullness of her lower lip but it was enough to send his blood pumping through his body with a velocity that almost made him dizzy.
“It’s good. I can taste the fruit now, and something else. Something woody?”
“Again, you’re right. Well done.”
Good grief, was his hand shaking? he thought as he reached for his own glass and took a slug of the wine he’d so anticipated only a few short minutes ago. He couldn’t believe she affected him so deeply and in such a short period of time. He cast her another look. She wasn’t exactly unaffected herself. There was a fine blush of color along her cheekbones that hadn’t been there when she’d arrived and she certainly hadn’t had enough wine to justify a flush of heat to her face.
This attraction between them was something else.
“Tell me about the rest of your day,” he prompted. “I see Paige has certainly earned her fee.”
Margaret filled him in on the shopping they’d done after he’d left.
“You two covered a lot of ground today. I have to say, I like the contacts,” Will commented.
“I thought I’d have more trouble getting used to them but I was pleasantly surprised. Of course I haven’t tried to take these out or put in a new set yet.”
Margaret laughed. The sound that bubbled from her as rich and complex as the wine in his glass. His nerves were already stretched to breaking point. Desire for her clouded rational thought. He really needed to get a grip. He wanted nothing better than to keep her all to himself, all night long. But that was impossible, he reminded himself. They needed to be seen in public for the news to filter back to his parents in New York, as he knew it eventually would.
Will was startled to discover she was an amusing companion over dinner. There was a sharp intelligence to her that he’d underestimated when he’d seen the Miss Prim version of Margaret Cole in the workplace.
Everything went fine through the course of the evening until a group of several couples came into the restaurant. The men were managers who had survived Rafe’s takeover of Worth Industries. One of them nodded in Will’s direction, a quizzical look on his face as he studied Will’s companion, until recognition dawned. Then something less pleasant and more lascivious soon followed as the man’s stare traveled down the smooth ivory column of Margaret’s throat and lower, to her décolletage.
An unexpected rush of possessiveness, and an urge to protect her from such shallow and insulting interest, suffused Will. He noted she’d paled under the other man’s scrutiny before very calmly replacing her cup of decaffeinated coffee back onto its saucer. At first glance he wouldn’t have known how the man’s look had upset her, with the exception of how pale she’d grown. But now she tucked her hands into her lap where they knotted in her heavy linen napkin, twisting the fabric over and over.
He made a point of staring at the manager until the man’s fixed look lifted from Margaret’s chest and he slowly came around to making eye contact with Will. It didn’t take much, a mere narrowing of Will’s eyes, a cooling in his expression, but the guy got the message.
“Shall we go?” Will asked, eager now to remove her from prying eyes and speculation.
His actions were in direct contrast to what he thought he’d wanted. Even the interest shown in them by the chance meeting with the gossip columnist from the Seaside Gazette when they’d arrived hadn’t drawn this overwhelming urge to shelter Margaret from unwanted interest in their so-called relationship. He hadn’t stopped to consider the ramifications of this quite far enough and he made a silent vow to be more careful of her reputation in the future. While he wasn’t above using her for his own purposes, he certainly didn’t want to see her become the butt of gossip and innuendo in the workplace.
“Thank you, yes, I’m ready to go,” Margaret replied with the new mantle of decorum she wore around her like a cloak.
The only telltale sign of her discomfort showed in the crumpled napkin she placed on the table as she rose from her seat and gathered her evening bag.
Neither of them had drunk more than a glass of wine at dinner, but Will was still glad he was using a driver for the evening. It gave him the chance to observe Margaret a little closer, to watch her mannerisms. So far today he hadn’t been able to fault her, which was great as far as convincing his parents she was the real deal. They’d see through his farce in a blink if he went out with someone who lacked common courtesy and manners.
As Will handed her into the wide bench seat in the back of the limousine he caught a glimpse of lace-topped stockings before she smoothed her skirt down over her shapely thighs. Lust hit him, hard and fast. The rational side of his mind told him his reaction was no better than that of the accounts manager he’d frozen out in the restaurant. But the less rational side of him, the side that had seen Margaret at the Valentine’s ball and known he’d stop at nothing to have her, reminded him he’d kept a lid on his burgeoning passion all through the exquisitely presented meal they’d enjoyed at the restaurant. He’d been the perfect gentleman, the perfect host. But now, in the close confines of the car and with the privacy screen firmly in place, his mind ran riot on all the things he wanted to experience with Ms. Margaret Cole.
Five
Margaret sat beside Will on the cool leather seat as the car pulled smoothly away from the entrance to Jacques’. It was as if they were cocooned together in a protective bubble and she found the sensation vastly more reassuring than that moment when the manager from accounting had recognized her at the restaurant with Will. The awful assessing look in his eyes had made her feel sick to her stomach. It was exactly the kind of look she’d spent most of her life trying to avoid.
What made it worse was that his wife worked in HR, and she was an inveterate gossip. Margaret wouldn’t be at all surprised to discover she was the main topic of water-cooler conversation before nine o’clock tomorrow morning.
She looked out the window at the passing scenery, but her eyes failed to register her surroundings. All she could do was silently castigate herself for being such an idiot. Who did she really think she was? She’d allowed herself to foolishly be seduced into thinking she could belong in this world. But it took far more than clothing and clev
er makeup to make that leap. Realistically, she was nothing but a tool in a very elaborate game designed by Will Tanner. And she’d become a shamefully eager participant.
It had been fun to dress up like this tonight. To allow her senses to be wooed by the glamour of the clothes she wore, the sensuality of allowing the woman she kept buried deep inside to come out. But, as much as she wished for it to be real and true, it wasn’t her.
The final vestiges of the fantasy-like qualities of today’s activities faded away. Tonight she had to go home, and no doubt face the silent accusations of her brother. Or not so silent, given Jason’s propensity to speak his mind. She grimaced at her reflection in the glass. He wouldn’t be happy with this new version of her, especially given the man who had engineered it all.
And then there was tomorrow. Work. The word echoed in her mind. She sent a silent prayer of thanks to Paige for the consideration with which she’d helped Maggie choose her new work wardrobe. While the clothing was more fitted than she usually wore, it did nothing to overly emphasize her obvious attributes. At least she wouldn’t be subjected to the kind of look she’d experienced in the restaurant.
Strange how one man’s gaze upon her could make her feel uncomfortable—dirty, even. Yet another’s lit a slow burning fire deep inside of her that even now, beneath all her concerns, still simmered.
She started as she felt Will’s warm fingers wrap around her hand where it lay in her lap. He laced his digits through hers and drew her hand to his lips, pressing a brief kiss against her knuckles.
“I’m sorry the evening had to end that way, Margaret.”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“No, it wasn’t, but I’m angry you had to feel uncomfortable for simply being you. Beautiful.”
His words were like a balm to her soul, but she knew she shouldn’t, couldn’t, accept them.
“No, I’m not beautiful.” She put up her free hand to silence him as he made to protest. “I’m not just saying that so you can argue the point with me. I know my limitations. And speaking of those limitations—” she gently withdrew her fingers from his clasp “—we have to discuss how we’re going to conduct this arrangement at work.”
Bought: His Temporary Fiancée Page 5
