Fiancee for Hire (Front and Center) Page 4

  His other hand had a mind of its own, finding its way to the back of her thigh beneath her skirt. His palm slid up, up, up—

  Kelli gasped, breaking the kiss. Those turquoise eyes held equal parts shock and desire.

  The desire pulled him in, but the shock made him take a step back. He cleared his throat. His left hand still curved around a bare ass cheek that definitely wasn’t hidden beneath demure bikini panties. It was thong or nothing. Mac felt a surge of heat in his groin. He stared into her eyes, refusing to blink. He moved his mouth to her ear, wanting to make damn sure she couldn’t miss his words.

  “Don’t think I won’t do whatever I need to do to make this cover story believable for everyone,” he whispered.

  She shivered in his arms and drew back, looking at him with those crystal-blue eyes. “Everyone?”

  The challenge was back in her eyes, and Mac fought the urge to take her up against the wall. “Everyone,” he repeated, afraid of just how true that was.

  “In that case, why don’t you show me to our bedroom?”

  Chapter Three

  Kelli held her breath as she waited for Mac to process her words. His palm still cupped her ass, and her fingers were still twined under his belt.

  “Our bedroom,” he repeated.

  “Yes,” she murmured, her heart slamming heard against her ribs. “Or am I saving myself for our wedding night?”

  Something flashed in his eyes, and Kelli tightened her grip on his belt, drawing him closer. Was that a gun holstered on his hip, or—

  “Later,” he said, sliding his hand from beneath her skirt. “We have work to do.”

  “Work?”

  “Let’s not forget, this is a business arrangement, Ms. Landers. My ability to carry out this mission and keep you safe hinges on my ability to remain focused and undistracted.”

  Kelli swallowed, chiding herself for missing the warmth of his palm on her ass. “Here’s a tip—most men address their fiancé by her first name.”

  “Duly noted.” Mac took another step back, regaining control of the situation or at least himself. “I also noted that we did not do a very convincing job of knowing one another in our debut as a couple.”

  She grimaced. “Lemon allergy, huh?”

  “Intense fear of heights?”

  “Right.” He took a deep breath. “Come.”

  I was just about to, if you’d kept grinding on me like that, Kelli thought, but allowed him to tow her away from the door and through the kitchen.

  She surveyed the elaborate kitchen with granite counters and gleaming appliances. Maria smiled as they passed, but said nothing. There was a massive teak dining table to the left of the kitchen, and beyond that, a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a kidney-shaped pool done in turquoise tile. She longed for a dip in the water, or at least a shower after her long flight from Hawaii, but Mac had other ideas.

  He pulled her into an office where a tall man with a buzz cut was just hanging up the phone.

  “Sir,” he said by way of greeting.

  “Hank. I’d like you to meet my fiancée, Kelli Landers.”

  Kelli stuck her hand out, feeling a little like a trained seal. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “Hank is my closest ally and second-in-command,” Mac said. “We served in the Marines together years ago before I started my company.”

  Hank nodded at her, then looked back at Mac. “Zapata wants you to have dinner at his place Wednesday evening.”

  “The day after tomorrow.” Mac frowned. “Dinner party?”

  “No. Just the two of you. And your wives.”

  At the word wives, Kelli stiffened. She was being thrown into the deep end. Mac just nodded, then looked at Kelli.

  “I look forward to having you meet one of my business colleagues, sweetheart.”

  “I’d love nothing more,” Kelli said, thinking of at least three dozen things she’d love more, beginning with an appendectomy.

  Hank studied her, his pale blue eyes boring into hers in a way that made Kelli shiver. She held his gaze, determined to hold up under his military-like scrutiny.

  Hank looked back at Mac. “Would you like to go over those briefings now?”

  “How about after dinner?” Mac asked. “Right now, I’d like to spend a little time with my fiancée.”

  “Very well. In that case, I’m running over to the base for a few hours. Need anything?”

  “No thank you.”

  As soon as Hank retreated, Mac turned and locked the door. Kelli frowned at him. “Base? There’s no military base in Mexico.”

  “Correct.”

  He supplied no further information, and she couldn’t resist the urge to probe. “I understand whatever it is you do is secretive,” she said. “But don’t you think your fiancée should at least know the basics?”

  He shook his head. “You know I handle contracts for the U.S. military on operations that are—shall we say, a bit outside the box. That’s all you need to know. Part of minimizing the risk to you is minimizing your connection to my business.”

  “And to you, personally?”

  “Precisely.”

  “Fine.” Kelli sat down in a plush chair and glanced through the half-tilted blinds to the sparkling ocean view beyond. “But I do think we both need to know more about one another if we’re going to pull off this engagement story.”

  “My thoughts exactly,” he said, striding around the desk to a chair on the opposite side. He reached into a drawer and pulled out an army-green file folder. After pushing it across the desk toward her, he steepled his hands and waited for her to open it.

  She hesitated, then flipped open the cover. A stack of papers an inch thick greeted her, with neat lines provided for handwritten responses. She scanned the words on the pages and realized it was some sort of questionnaire.

  Catalog your academic history.

  List all members of your immediate family, along with ages and occupations.

  Describe any food allergies.

  She looked up at him. “You want me to fill this out?”

  He nodded. “I’ve already gathered much of it through private investigators, but it seems prudent to ensure I have all the information precise.”

  “You’re filling this out, too?”

  He pushed a second folder across the desk and nodded. “All my answers are filled in. You’ll be studying this over the next twenty-four hours and will be drilled on responses throughout the following days until you have it committed to memory.”

  She blinked, then shook her head. “If I miss a question, will you punish me?”

  A faint smile crossed his face, and he pressed his palms flat against the desktop. “I’ll do whatever I need to.”

  She felt a sizzle of lust arc through her body, and she looked away from his hands, trying to regain control of herself. Of the situation. She opened his file folder and began to read. “A graduate of Hawaii State University, a degree in political science, six foot two with black hair and brown eyes.” She glanced up at him. “Not that I ever see them.”

  “What?”

  She closed the folder and looked at him. “I’ll fill out your forms, and I’ll study yours. But don’t you think we need to get a little more—personal?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “The kiss in the foyer wasn’t personal enough for you?”

  Kelli swallowed, her lips still tingling from that kiss. “It was a very nice performance, but only the tip of the iceberg. Engaged couples share intimate details about themselves. Not just where you grew up and where you went to school, but the name of your childhood teddy bear and how old you were when you lost your virginity.”

  Mac quirked one eyebrow. “Bingo. Seventeen. You?”

  “Maple Syrup Florida Green Bear. Sixteen. Favorite color?”

  “Black.”

  “Of course. I like pink.” She licked her lips. “Favorite sex position?”

  “I like being on top.”

  “So do I.”

/>   She let that hang between them a moment, waiting for his response. At last, he nodded.

  “Fine. Now can we focus on the questionnaires?”

  Kelli rolled her eyes. “I’m serious, Mac. We need to know this stuff. This is what couples in real, human relationships do.”

  “Grill each other on the names of their teddy bears?” Mac shook his head. “I’m quite certain that Zapata will not be asking that of either of us. Now if you’ll turn to page—”

  “Who was she?”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “The girl you lost your virginity to.”

  “This is relevant how?”

  “Because this is the sort of thing a woman wants to know of her fiancée. Was it love, or a fling? Was your heart broken, or was it a notch on your belt? Was it a successful endeavor, or did you shoot your load on her leg before you got the condom on?”

  “Why on earth—”

  “Because women want to know where they stack up,” she interrupted, not entirely sure why this mattered so much to her, but certain it did. “We want to know how we compare and deep down; we all want to know that even if we weren’t your first, we were your best, your turning point, your most meaningful, your everything.”

  “For crying out loud, Kelli.” He ran his hands through his hair, looking exasperated, and she felt a twinge of triumph.

  “Fine,” he said. “Her name was Sarah, and it was at a party before my senior year in high school. She wanted a relationship, but I wasn’t ready. We lost touch not long afterward, and while the experience was perhaps more hurried than I prefer these days, I can assure you my performance was respectable.”

  Kelli sat back in her chair, feeling strangely satisfied. “There. Was that so hard?”

  He shook his head. “Now I’m supposed to ask you the same questions?”

  “No. Men in committed relationships don’t want to know details.”

  “What?”

  “You might care what sort of car my last boyfriend drove or what sort of annual salary he had, but you do not want any details about my previous sex life.”

  Mac folded his arms over his chest with a look of exasperation. “Okay then, since you’re apparently the expert on male-female relations, tell me what our sex life is like.”

  “Our sex life?”

  “We’re engaged, aren’t we? Do I take you hard and dirty from behind against the bedroom wall with your wrists pinned over your head, or do you like it slow and sweet and soft with the curtains open and the ocean breeze cooling the sweat between your breasts?”

  She opened her mouth to reply and found her lips suddenly didn’t work. The image he’d just created was burned into her brain, and it was all she could do to keep from crawling into his lap.

  “I—uh—”

  “Come on now,” he goaded. “I assume you aren’t saving yourself for our wedding night?”

  She pressed her lips together. “Maybe I am.”

  He was silent a moment, digesting this possibility. Kelli gave him her most angelic smile and crossed her legs primly.

  “I see,” Mac said. “Very well, I’ll have your things set up in the guest room adjacent to the master suite. It’s probably best that way, ensuring we keep things as professional as possible.”

  Shit, Kelli thought, fighting the urge to tell him she’d only been kidding, and that she’d love nothing more than to crawl into bed with him and do crazy things. She swallowed and stood, collecting the file.

  “The guest room will be fine.”

  “Okay then,” Mac said. “If we’re finished here, you can get started on the questionnaire.”

  Kelli stood and nodded once, feeling all at once indignant and turned on. She twisted the doorknob and flounced out of the room with no earthly idea where she was headed.

  Par for the course.

  …

  Kelli woke to the sound of her iPhone playing “Here Comes the Bride.”

  Anna’s ringtone.

  “Hello?” she grumbled, propping herself in bed.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. Ready to try on wedding gowns?”

  “What time is it?”

  “Eight a.m. local time. Are you seriously just waking up?”

  “Yes.” Kelli rubbed her eyes, dumbfounded to realize she’d just slept for more than twelve hours. True, she’d awakened several times in the night. The first time she’d glanced out the window to see two armed men patrolling the windows and balcony of her room.

  The second time she’d heard footsteps in the hallway and peered through the keyhole to realize Mac himself was standing guard.

  These guys gave a whole new meaning to security.

  “Long night, huh?” Anna teased, jarring Kelli back to the conversation. “I hear ya. First time you and Mr. Hottie McFrowny have seen each other in weeks. I assume he kept you up all night playing hide the sausage?”

  “Pretty much,” Kelli said.

  Assuming “hide the sausage” is code for filling out endless piles of paperwork and falling asleep on page thirty-seven of the history of Mac’s former military career.

  Since she couldn’t say that out loud, she settled for throwing her legs over the edge of the bed and staring out the window at the Pacific Ocean. “Do we have an appointment this morning to try on wedding gowns?”

  “Nine o’clock. How about I come get you in ten minutes and take you the bridal salon.”

  “Deal. Bring coffee, okay?”

  “See you soon.”

  Kelli trudged off to the bathroom and took a quick shower. She pulled on a simple, pale pink sundress and a pair of white leather flip-flops and headed down to the kitchen in search of cereal.

  Maria was bustling over a steaming pot of something that smelled spicy and scrumptious. She beamed when Kelli walked in.

  “Sit, sit, señorita! I make you good breakfast.”

  “Thank you so much, but I don’t have time. I’m going shopping for wedding dresses in ten minutes.”

  Maria made a tsk-tsk noise. “You must eat breakfast. Come, I make breakfast burrito. You like spicy?”

  “I like spicy very much,” she said, and dropped onto a stool at the granite bar. “Is Mac here?”

  “No, he left early for meeting. He will be home by four to take you to dinner.”

  “Dinner.”

  “A romantic date, no?” Maria beamed knowingly, and Kelli felt herself returning the smile.

  A horn beeped in the driveway, and Kelli jumped up. Maria turned and handed her two foil-wrapped goodies.

  “Here. One for you, one for your friend.”

  “Thank you so much, Maria.” She took the food and trotted out the door to where Anna was waiting in a rented convertible. Kelli slid in and handed Anna a burrito.

  “Trade you for coffee.”

  “Right there in the cup holder. You ready to do this?”

  “Eat the burrito, or try on dresses? Only one of those gets a yes.”

  Anna laughed and took a bite of her burrito. “You’ll do great. I worked with this bridal salon two years ago when I was here doing a wedding for a bride who wanted the wedding performed while the entire wedding party was skydiving. Suffice it to say, they’re very accommodating.”

  “I’ll take accommodating. I’ll also take another six gallons of coffee. Thanks for this.”

  “No problem.” She steered the car out onto the highway and Kelli sighed as the breeze ruffled her hair. “So Mac is ridiculously hot. And I love how much he adores you.”

  Kelli almost choked on her burrito. She held it down and took a sip of coffee for good measure. “Uh-huh,” she agreed, eyes watering. “Me, too.”

  “He looks like he’d be fantastic in the sack. That whole king-of-the-universe thing is crazy-hot.”

  “It can be,” Kelli agreed, thinking her pal didn’t know the half of it. She’d never been so turned on by a guy who wouldn’t sleep with her.

  “Are we being followed?”

  Kelli glanced up from her breakfast to see An
na frowning at the rearview mirror. She craned her neck to see the car behind them. “Oh, that’s Mac’s man, Hank. I’m supposed to have a bodyguard with me at all times, but Mac promised he’d give me my space.”

  “He’s not going to follow you into the dressing room, is he?”

  Kelli grinned. “Maybe we could make him model veils for us.”

  Anna wheeled into the parking lot of the bridal salon and parked close to the front door. “Come on. I can’t wait to see what they’ve picked out for you.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “That you’re small, feisty, and ridiculously girlie for someone who wrestles Dobermans for a living.”

  “I’m sure they make just the gown for that,” Kelli said and followed her through the door.

  The inside of the shop looked like a tulle factory had exploded. White gowns hung from everywhere, some sleek and modern, and some with more ruffles than an eighties prom dress. Hank walked a few steps behind them, looking like a man who’d prefer internment in a POW camp over a morning spent shopping for bridal gowns. A veil grazed his arm, and he jumped back like he’d been shot.

  “Ms. Keebler? Ms. Landers? I’m so glad you could join us this morning. It’s our pleasure to serve you!”

  Kelli turned, startled by the voice. She’d been expecting a sleek model-type with a French accent, or maybe an effusive gay man in bright jeggings.

  What she saw was a tall man in a plaid shirt and cowboy boots. He tipped his cowboy hat, showing a pleasant smile and laugh lines that made him look just like the Marlboro Man.

  “Um, hi,” Kelli said, regrouping. “We’re here to look at wedding gowns. Not both of us. I mean, I’m the one getting married. We’re not marrying each other. Not that there’s anything wrong with that—”

  “I know who you are, ma’am,” the cowboy said, gesturing toward a rack of dresses so blindingly white, Kelli considered donning her sunglasses. “Ms. Keebler called ahead and gave us all your measurements and some details about you. If you’ll come this way, we’ll get started trying things on.”

  Kelli followed dumbly, noticing the man had the bowlegged swagger of someone who’d ridden thirty miles on horseback to arrive at the boutique. Hank followed behind them, looking increasingly uncomfortable as he waded deeper into the abyss of lace and satin.