by Elle James
She pulled out a tray of diamond engagement rings.
He held up his hands and backed away a step or two. “I’m not ready to ask her to marry me. I told you, we only met a week ago.”
She gave him a knowing smile. “A week, a month, a year. If you know…you know.”
Max walked out of the store having spent over twenty grand, shaking his head, wondering what had just happened. Had he lost his senses? He couldn’t possibly contemplate doing what he was going to do, following the event that night.
He had until he saw Jane again to change his mind. The woman in the store assured him that if things didn’t go according to plan, he could return his purchase within a week and get a full refund.
Max didn’t give a rat’s ass about the return. He only cared that he didn’t spook Jane by jumping the gun. Even if he was absolutely certain he wanted Jane in his life forever, Jane might not be as keen on forever as he was.
Was he insane?
Yes.
Was that fact going to stop him?
Hell, no.
Chapter 14
Jane stood on the right side of the stage, while the ladies who’d designed the bodysuit adjusted the ostrich feather wings attached to her back.
Her agent parked himself beside her, talking nonstop in an attempt to convince her that she was making a huge mistake, getting out of the modeling business so soon.
“Layne,” Jane finally cut him off. “My decision is not up for discussion. I have more money than I know what to do with, I have businesses that continue to make more, and I want a life before I’m too old to enjoy it.”
“You can have that life. I know lots of models who marry, have children and get right back out on that runway.”
“That’s just it, I don’t want to be that model. I want to be Plain Jane, soccer mom, and remote-access businesswoman. Maybe on a ranch out in the middle of nowhere.”
She smiled at the image she had of standing on the porch, staring out at the pastures of the ranch where Max worked. They might have to have a ranch of their own, if his boss drew the line at a family filling his house.
Assuming Max was as interested in her as she was in him. And assuming he had marriage and family in mind.
After last night, Jane knew. Max was the man for her. He’d taken his time to get to know her without rushing her into sex. Hell, if anything, she had rushed him into making love to her. Her lips quirked.
“What are you smiling about?” Layne asked.
“Nothing you would understand,” she said. “I’m only here tonight for the children.” Jane adjusted the straps on the beautiful gown that had been donated by an upscale designer out of New York. The guests in the audience had money. Lots of it. The dress should bring a tidy sum at auction.
All she had to do was walk the runway in it, displaying it to its full potential, and then wait while the event organizers auctioned it off to the highest bidder. Once the final bid was recorded, she’d walk off the runway for the last time, strip out of the dress and put on her own dress, make an appearance in front of the media and get the hell out of the limelight and on her way back home.
She glanced at her cellphone, sitting on the table beside her. How she wished Max would call and tell her he’d had a great time last night.
More than anything, she wanted to tell him she was falling in love with him and wanted to spend the rest of her life with him. He was everything she’d ever wanted in a husband: kind, hard-working, protective and honest.
Being a celebrity had its drawbacks. Jane never knew when someone was telling her the truth or blowing smoke up her skirts, just to get her to agree to some scheme or another.
With Max, she felt like she could let her guard down. She didn’t have to be anyone but herself, and she didn’t have to worry that he was taking advantage of her. He didn’t know what she was worth in dollars. She could be as poor as a church mouse and he didn’t seem to care.
And Jane didn’t care that he was only a ranch hand. He must have had to work overtime, and then some, to afford to take her out to the Riomaggiore restaurant.
She grimaced, wishing she’d gotten ahead of the bill and paid it down so that Max wouldn’t have had to spend so much of his hard-earned cash just trying to impress her.
Perhaps it was time to tell him everything about her life. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be intimidated that she made so much money or suddenly get greedy and want the money more than her.
Jane straightened and stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup covered her face entirely, transforming her from Plain Jane Gentry to her stage name of Angel Gentry.
Her blond curls had been slicked back from her forehead and straightened to fall down to her waist behind her. She wasn’t the makeup-free woman who’d ridden ATVs and fallen in the mud out at the ranch with Max. She wasn’t the Jane she wanted to be. “Layne, this is my last runway gig. I’m retiring after this. I’m one hundred percent sure.”
Layne looked over her shoulder at her reflection and nodded. “Okay. I’ll have to come up with another way to put my daughter through college.”
Jane shook her head. “Don’t lay the guilt trip on me, Layne. You’ve made more than enough off me alone to put a dozen children through college.”
He grinned. “Yes, but you were my most lucrative client to date.”
“You’ll find another model who’ll be even more impressive.” She turned and gave the man an air kiss on his cheek to avoid smearing her makeup or leaving a print. “You know I’ll always love you and your wife. Now, tell me who comes after me?”
His eyes lit up. “The Texas Ramblers’ star quarterback. They’re auctioning off his jersey, pads and helmet. I’d give my first born for that prize, if my wife would let me.”
“That’s football, right?” she asked.
Layne rolled his eyes. “Woman, don’t you watch sports at all?”
She shook her head. “I haven’t had time. But I plan to remedy that. I want to know what all the fuss is about the game. I mean, who’s this star quarterback, and why is he so popular that they’d auction off his jersey?”
“He’s only the best quarterback in the NFL. The Ramblers are going to hurt now that he’s retiring.”
“See? He probably wants a life, too. Why shouldn’t I?” She wondered if Max knew of the football player, and if he watched the game. She’d learn to love football if Max loved it. Anything to spend time with him and be a part of his life.
The event MC announced the next item on the auction list. “Displayed by the incomparable, world-renowned supermodel, Angel Gentry.”
“You’re on,” Layne said. “Make it count, it’s your last hurrah.”
She nodded, squared her shoulders, pasted on her model poker face and stepped out onto the stage, passing a famous male movie star, wearing the suit he’d starred in during the filming of his last action-adventure movie.
She gave him a barely perceptible nod and walked to the end of the stage, relishing the moment, knowing it would be her last stroll down the runway. After this, she could truly begin the next chapter of her life.
Joy and hope warred with her nerves. She’d been modeling for so long she wasn’t sure she’d know what to do with herself when it was all over.
Marriage and children, she told herself. Keep your eye on the prize, and it will happen.
Max stood on the left side of the stage, queuing up to be next to strut his stuff for the children’s charity auction. In his full set of pads, jersey and helmet, he was geared up to hit the football field. It felt at once normal and surreal.
He hadn’t worn his gear since his last Super Bowl. Tonight, he wore the championship ring and had donated his jersey, pads and helmet to the auction, hoping to bring lots of money for the children’s hospital.
“You all right?” Tag asked as he stood beside him in the wings.
“A little warm, but, yeah, all right.” Max turned to look through the mask at his friend. “I’m ready for this to be over.”<
br />
Tag grinned. “What? You have better plans on a Saturday night?”
“No. But I hope to,” he said.
Tag gave him the side-eye. “Would they have anything to do with Jane?”
Max nodded. “Everything to do with Jane. If I find her after this circus, I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
Tag’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right?”
Max’s brow dipped at the center. “Why do you say it like that? Do you think it’s too soon?”
“You’ve only known each other a week,” Tag argued.
“But when you know she’s the one for you…you know, right?” Max’s heart thundered at the thought of popping the question. What if it was too soon? What if she wasn’t sure yet. Would asking her after only a week send her running in the opposite direction?
Damn. He wanted her so badly, the ring he’d purchased seemed to be burning a hole into his subconscious. If he could see her later that night, he’d get a feel for where she was at in their relationship.
Oh, hell, who was he kidding? He would ask her, no matter what her answer entailed. If she didn’t say yes, immediately, he’d ask her to at least think about it before she gave him her response.
“Who am I following?” he asked Tag.
“You’re after the supermodel, Angel Gentry. She’s out there now.” Tag pulled aside the curtain enough he could look out at the runway. “Wow, she’s gorgeous.”
Max didn’t care about the supermodel. He loved Jane and was going to ask her to marry him as soon as he could get her alone.
The event coordinator hurried up to Max, carrying a clipboard and a harried expression on her face. “Mr. Smithson, you need to get out on stage.”
“What am I supposed to do?”
“You’ll walk out to the end of the runway. Stand there for a long moment, letting the audience see what they’re bidding on, and then turn and walk slowly back to this side of the stage.” She gave him a shaky smile. “That’s all.”
He nodded and stepped out onto the stage. With the lights shining in his eyes, and the grill on his mask blocking some of his vision, Max found it difficult to see.
When he reached the middle of the stage, he paused, and pulled the helmet off his head. He figured, carrying it would be good enough. That way he didn’t walk off the end of the runway and crash into the crowd. A light-weight model was an easier catch than a two-hundred-and-thirty-pound football player in full gear.
Ah, he could see just in time to watch the supermodel swaying down the runway toward him.
He frowned. Wasn’t she the one who’d fallen into his arms in Vegas? The one with the violet eyes so much like Jane’s.
His brows dipped.
The model slowed as she approached him. Her poker face slipped into a narrow-eyed frown as she came closer. And her feet faltered in those ridiculously high heels.
Why did women do that to themselves?
The MC keyed the microphone and announced, “Please welcome Moose Smithson, NFL star quarterback for the Texas Ramblers, wearing his full football gear, jersey and helmet to be auctioned here tonight.”
As Angel came abreast of him, she stopped, her eyes widening. “Max?”
Max frowned, staring at the woman so covered in makeup, he had no idea who she was, until she’d spoken his name.
“Max? Is that you?” she said.
“Jane?” His pulse leaped, and he reached for the woman, not really believing what he was seeing. “Jane? Is that you?”
“What the hell?” she said and leaned back, her gaze going over him from head to toe. “I thought you were just a rancher.”
As the truth of Jane’s appearance sank in, Max stepped backward. “I thought you were just a woman, not a supermodel. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were some superstar football player?” Her eyes filled with tears. “I thought you were an honest man, someone I could trust.”
“And I thought you were just a woman, looking for a partner in your life, not…this.” He waved a hand toward her face, her clothes, those horrible heels.
Jane snorted. “So, you’re a fake, and I’m a phony. I guess that makes us even. I guess that’s it. You feed lies into a program, and it’ll give you whatever you asked for. That’s too bad. Leslie had high hopes for BODS.” Jane held out her hand. “It was nice while it lasted, Mr. Smithson.”
He took her hand in his, anger burning hot in his veins. “Yeah. I guess you got a good laugh out of my rancher routine.”
“And you must have loved seeing me covered in mud.” She shook her head. “Have a wonderful life playing football.”
“And you have a wonderful life walking the runway.” He added, “I hope you don’t break your neck the next time you fall off your heels in Vegas.”
“I’m sure there will be someone there to catch me. There always is.” She turned and hurried off the stage.
Max walked to the end of the runway, barely able to focus on the auction when his heart was breaking into pieces.
She’d been lying to him the entire week, telling him she was into fashion merchandizing.
Well, hadn’t he lied about being a rancher after a career in sports management?
The auction went on around him, while his thoughts roiled around the Jane he’d grown to love and Angel, her supermodel antithesis.
What right did he have to be angry with her when he was equally at fault? He should have been up front with her all along.
But he’d been afraid she wouldn’t love him for who he wanted to be, not who he’d been as an NFL football player.
Holy hell, she had probably been afraid he wouldn’t love her for who she wanted to be rather than who she had been as a supermodel.
“Sold!” the auctioneer shouted. The crowd erupted into applause, Max’s cue to leave the stage.
He hurried down the runway passing an actress who’d starred in a sci-fi series. He gave her a brief nod and made a sharp right turn in the direction Jane had left the stage. Once behind the curtain, he shoved his helmet into the event coordinator’s arms. “Where is she?” he demanded.
The woman looked up from her clipboard. “Where’s who?”
“Jane—Angel Gentry. Where is she?” Max wanted to reach out and shake the information out of the coordinator.
“She’s probably in the dressing room, getting out of the gown she wore. Why?”
“Because, I love her, and I’ll be damned if she walks out of my life before I have a chance to convince her to marry me.”
The woman smiled and shook her head. “Ah, young love.” She shot a glance at her clipboard and looked up again with a smile. “Room eleven. And good luck!”
Still wearing his pads and jersey, Max plowed through the celebrities lined up for their turn on stage and raced to the rear of the theater where the dressing rooms lined the wall.
“Moose!” a voice called out.
Max turned to find Tag running to catch up to him. “What happened? Why did you run off the wrong side of the stage?”
“Angel is Jane,” he said, continuing past one dressing room door after another, searching for door number eleven.
When he came to his dressing room, he ducked in, grabbed the little box out of the pocket of his trousers and curled it into his hand before running back out into the hallway.
Tag caught up and ran alongside him, “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“Supermodel Angel Gentry is also the woman I’ve been dating, Jane Gentry. I don’t know why I didn’t see it. It was there in her eyes. No two women could possibly have that shade of violet. I should have known.”
“So, she’d not the Plain Jane you advertised for. Why are you so bent on finding her?” Tag asked.
“I have to find her. She has to know.”
“What does she have to know?”
Eleven. The door was directly in front of him. He didn’t hesitate. Raising his hand he knocked.
“Go away,” Jane�
�s voice sounded behind the panel.
Max tried the door, but it was locked. “I’m not going away until you talk to me.”
“I don’t want to talk to you,” she said.
“I think she’s crying,” Tag whispered.
Max’s heart twisted hard in his chest. “Damn it, Jane, open the door.”
“No. We have nothing left to say.” Her voice was louder, less muffled, as if she’d moved closer to the door.
Max leaned his forehead against the door, no mean feat when he was still bulked-out in pads. “I know why you didn’t tell me. It’s the same reason I didn’t tell you. It doesn’t matter.”
“Yes, it does. We’ll never be able to trust each other.”
“We will. Because people who learn to love each other, learn to trust one another.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Jane, open the door. I need to see your violet eyes. I need to tell you to your face, not through this door, that I love you. I think I fell in love with your eyes the first time I saw you in Vegas. But it was the Jane who slid in the mud that I’ve fallen head over heels for.”
“But we’ve only known each other for a week.”
“It doesn’t matter. When you know, you know.”
“Now that you know I’m Angel, how do I know you don’t love Angel better than Jane?”
“Because Angel isn’t the woman I made love to last night. Jane is the woman who rode ATVs with me on the ranch. Jane is the one I love and want to be a part of my life forever.”
“I can’t continue to be hounded by paparazzi. I’m done with being in the public eye.”
“Me, too. I retired as of my last game. I’m a full-time rancher now.”
“You are?” she asked, her voice soft behind the panel.
“I am.” He rested the hand holding the box against the door. “Jane, open the door.”
A long pause stretched between them. Max was about to go find someone to unlock the door so that he could get to Jane, hold her in his arms and tell her to her face that he’d fallen madly in love with her.
