Fiancee for Hire (8 page)

Chapter Seven

Kelli spent the next morning lounging by the pool, alternately paging through Mac’s questionnaire and fretting about the night before.

What the hell had she been thinking?

First the groping in the car. Then the situation in the closet. Then, the orgasm in the restaurant.

Was she crazy?

You came here hoping to tease him,
her subconscious reminded her.
To have fun with the guy you’ve been crushing on for years, but never really knew. To make him lose his mind with lust.

It seemed like Mac had other ideas. Who was really doing the teasing here? Was it a control thing for him, or something else?

She remembered the way he’d touched her in the car, so confident and purposeful.

She thought about the way he moaned and moved against her in the closet, the feel of his hot skin against her nipples, the ripple of muscle hard against her own softness.

She remembered his fingers inside her, his thumb moving like he knew the location of every nerve in her body.

Three of the hottest sexual encounters of your life, and you haven’t even slept with him.

Sighing, Kelli set the paperwork aside and picked up her phone. She glanced around the pool, making sure none of the household staff was nearby. Maria had gone into town. Hank and Brian were holed up in the office, though they kept checking on her every few minutes. The two bodyguards Mac had assigned to watch her were out of earshot on opposite sides of the patio. She wasn’t entirely sure they spoke English anyway, so she punched in the number for Sheri and waited.

“Hey, girl!” Sheri answered on the first ring. “How’s everything going with Operation Seduce My Jerk Brother?”

Kelli crossed her legs on the chaise, grateful for the warmth in her friend’s voice. “For a military brat, you’re surprisingly terrible at coming up with names for covert operations.”

“Give me a break. I’m the mother of two eight-month-old twins and the fiancée of the hottest guy on the planet. I slept three hours last night and my brain is like a shriveled raisin. So things are going well?”

“Great,” Kelli said a little too brightly. “I’m sweet, demure, delicate, and classy.”

“In other words, totally full of crap.”

“Pretty much.” She smiled to herself, thinking demure probably didn’t describe her behavior in the closet last night, nor was her performance at the restaurant particularly classy. She cleared her throat and forced herself to stay with the conversation. “Mac saved me from a carjacker yesterday.”

“What?”

She glanced toward the bodyguards, hesitating for an instant. Mac had said the attack had nothing to do with Zapata, so it should be safe to talk about. She leaned back against the chaise and proceeded to share the story, wrapping up with a dramatic description of the cantaloupe-covered wedding gown and Mac crouched on the hood of the car looking like a fruit-wielding assassin.

“Holy shit,” Sheri said. “You could have been killed.”

“No I couldn’t. Mac was watching out for me.” She was taken aback by the certainty in her own voice. “He takes the protector thing pretty seriously.”

“Too seriously, if you want my opinion.”

“How do you mean?”

“My brother has spent his whole life making himself an emotional iceberg so his feelings don’t get in the way of his ability to protect people. It’s kind of an art form with him.”

“Beats the hell out of papier-mâché,” Kelli said, shifting a little in her lounge chair as she filed that insight away in her mental Rolodex. “Anyway, things are going well. Great, I mean. Really great. Mac is amazing.”

God, she sounded like an idiot. On the other end of the line, Sheri was quiet.

“You’re not falling in love with him, right?” she asked. “I mean, you’ve always had a thing for my brother, but I thought it was just lust, and—”

“Don’t worry,” she said, licking her lips and infusing her voice with her normal, lighthearted perkiness. “I only do lust. Not love. That’s why I’m here, right?”

“Right.” Sheri didn’t sound convinced, but she was a good enough friend to let it drop. “Mac called last night. He sounded a little rattled. You must’ve done something to shake up his image of you as sweet, demure, and wholesome?”

Kelli laughed. “I jerked him off in his closet, then let him finger me in a restaurant.”

“That’ll do it. All that within the first forty-eight hours?”

“All that in a two-hour span. I’m nothing if not efficient.”

“And this is why I love you. Well, and because you buy me sex toys for my birthday. So have you slept with him, or is he holding out on you with the full-meal deal?”

“For now I’m stealing fries from his Happy Meal,” Kelli said. “I’m working my way up to demanding the super-sized combo.”

“Atta girl. Just be careful, okay? I don’t want anyone getting hurt here.”

“Please. If there were Olympic medals for avoiding emotional attachment, your brother and I would both be vying for gold.”

“About that, Kel. I know your parents did a number on you, and I don’t blame you for having issues with abandonment, but—”

“It’s okay, really,” Kelli interrupted, her voice so bright it hurt her ears. “Seriously, I’m fine. So, uh—is the temp vet taking good care of my clinic?”

Sheri didn’t respond right away. Kelli fiddled with the tie on her bikini bottoms, hoping her friend would just let it drop.

“The best,” Sheri said at last. “I checked on him yesterday, just like you asked. All is well.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. I should probably get back to the boys. It was good hearing from you, Kel.”

“You, too. I miss you.”

“I miss you, too. Stay safe. And don’t fall for my idiot brother.”

“Not a chance.” She hung up hoping like hell that was true.

The last thing she needed was to get attached to someone whose entire existence revolved around avoiding emotional involvement. Wasn’t that a recipe for a broken heart? A woman terrified of abandonment falling for a guy hell-bent on never staying with anyone. Talk about ridiculous.

She pushed all thoughts of emotional entanglement and abandonment out of her mind and spent the rest of the day reviewing Mac’s files. At five, she went upstairs to get changed. She chose an Emilio Pucci dress—strapless, of course, no bra—and a pair of Louboutin nude peep-toe heels that added an extra four inches to her frame. She spritzed on her favorite jasmine perfume, then studied the small stash of jewelry she’d brought with her.

She had a few costume pieces, but none of them looked quite right. She hesitated over the pearl-drop necklace her mother had given her when she’d turned twelve. The necklace had belonged to her grandmother, but Kelli’s mom had added a tiny paw-print charm that left seven-year-old Kelli swooning with delight.

Kelli’s mom had slurred her way through the wedding story as she presented the necklace to her daughter. “Love’s fine and shit, but don’t count on men to give you what you need,” she’d mumbled. “Men leave, you know. Can’t trust them to stick around and take care of you, so you’ve gotta get out there yourself and grab life by the balls.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

Considering much of Kelli’s career involved lopping off testicles, she hadn’t strayed too far from the advice. Kelli considered that, touching the pearls and the tiny paw-print charm. She took a deep breath and turned from the mirror.

She walked downstairs with her heart in her throat, hoping she was adequately prepared to bluff her way through a dinner party with a fake fiancé and a real arms dealer.

“Wow,” Mac said as Kelli descended the stairs. His gaze traveled the length of her legs, the curve of her waist, the bare skin of her shoulders. He reached out to brush the silk hem of the dress.

“Is that chartreuse or aubergine?”

Kelli grinned and let him take her hand at the bottom of the steps, planting a chaste kiss across her knuckles.

“It’s black, goofball,” she said. “I’m pretty sure it cost more than my condo. Thank you.”

“You look incredible. Griz will have a conniption.”

“Griz?”

“Griselda. Zapata’s wife. The one I—uh—”

“Screwed before you realized you also wanted to screw her husband in a different way?”

“You do have a way with words sometimes.”

“I’ll behave at dinner, I promise.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He led her to the car and handed her inside, opening and closing her door before heading around to the driver’s side.

Once inside, he turned to her. “I wasn’t sure these would go with whatever you chose to wear, but they seem to match your necklace.” He pulled a velvet box out of his jacket and opened it for her. Kelli gasped, reaching out to touch the pearl-drop earrings as her other hand stroked the necklace at her throat.

“Mac, they’re beautiful! How did you—”

“Lucky guess. I swear I didn’t snoop through your stuff. Not today, anyway.”

“I can’t decide if that’s the creepiest or most romantic thing ever,” she said, taking the box from him and hooking the earrings in place.

“Let’s go with romantically creepy,” Mac said, and started the car. “They look perfect with your necklace.”

“Thank you.”

Once they were on the road, Kelli cleared her throat. “So Zapata and his wife both speak English?”

“Yes. All our conversations will be in English, so you don’t have to worry.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

“I noticed. Your Spanish is very good.”

“Thank you. I’ve done volunteer vet work in El Salvador and Guatemala.”

“I know.”

Kelli cleared her throat again. “So tell me about Griselda.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Is she pretty? Smart? Flirty?”

Mac gave her a guarded look, an expression that had become all too familiar to Kelli. “I suppose so. On all counts, I guess. Does it matter?”

“Yes. A real fiancée would be threatened by at least one of those things. Maybe not overtly, but jealousy would rear its head at least a little.”

“Hmm. That makes sense. So you’re deliriously in love with me and leery of my former mistress?”

“And you’re completely smitten with me and blind to her charms.”

Mac smiled and turned onto the highway. “I think we can manage that.”

They chatted easily for the drive from Mac’s place in Todos Santos to Zapata’s place outside San Jose del Cabo. By the time they arrived at the stucco mansion on the cliffs overlooking the ocean, Kelli was beginning to feel relaxed.

Okay, maybe not relaxed. But as calm as she could be, considering she was a fake fiancée in a borrowed dress and too-high heels preparing to meet a vicious arms dealer and his vixen wife. At least she had Mac. And at least she might not have to try all that hard to appear smitten with him. Her lifelong crush had given her plenty of practice.

Mac parked the car in front of an elaborate stucco mansion. Kelli swallowed hard as she looked up at the home, noticing the elaborate brickwork, the staggering ocean views, the armed guards at every corner.

Mac walked around the side of the car and opened her door. Kelli hesitated, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He smiled and offered his arm.

“You’ll do great,” he murmured. “I promise.”

“Any last words of advice?”

“Take my lead. Smile a lot, don’t say much, and try to look as ridiculously in love with me as you can muster.”

“Got it.” She fought the urge to salute and settled for raising one manicured hand for him to grasp. He pulled her gracefully to her feet, and she wobbled a bit on the heels. Mac steadied her, cupping her elbow in one of his large palms. She held tight to his arm and let him lead her to the front door. Her heart was in her throat as Mac rang the bell, then pulled off his sunglasses as footsteps approached the door.

“Breathe,” Mac whispered.

“Okay.”

“You’ve got this.”

She gave him a weak smile, and Mac smiled back, then squeezed her arm.

She turned back to the door, waiting for a servant to greet them. When the door jerked open, Kelli jumped in surprise. She took two steps back as a petite brunette in a Prada dress cried out, then launched herself into Mac’s arms.

“Oh my God,” the woman sobbed into the front of Mac’s shirt as Mac looked down with alarm. “Something horrible has happened!”

…

The sight of Griselda sobbing and hysterical sent a rocket of ice down Mac’s spine. He felt the pinch of the shoulder holster holding his pistol beneath his suit jacket, and calculated how quickly he could detach Griz and push both women behind him while drawing the weapon to defend them against whatever waited inside.

Mac rested one hand on Griselda’s back as her arms twisted around his neck and she sobbed into his coat. He shot a look at Kelli, knowing she was probably terrified. She met his eye with a questioning look.

“Go back to the car,” Mac whispered. “Let me assess things here and—”

“Don’t leave me!” Griselda wailed. “Come quickly, both of you.”

With that, Griz grabbed Mac by one arm, Kelli by the other, and pulled them into the foyer. Mac was on high alert now, his hand reaching for the pistol, his eyes scanning the room for the threat, for a body on the floor, for a hostage situation for—

“A lizard?”

Mac blinked as Zapata stepped into the room cradling something that looked vaguely like a dinosaur. Judging from the slump of Zapata’s shoulders, it had to weigh fifty pounds. The animal flicked its tongue at Mac, assessing him as though he were a meal.

“An Argentine black and white tegu,” Kelli whispered reverently, her bare arm brushing Mac as she step forward. “He’s beautiful.”

“He’s dying; we must take him to the hospital now,” Zapata barked, his accent more pronounced than normal as his eyes made a frantic scan of the guests. “I apologize for dinner, but we must go quickly.”

Mac looked at Kelli, who was studying the large reptile with professional calmness. He felt a surge of pride as he touched her arm.

“I may not have mentioned it, Señor Zapata,” Mac said. “but my fiancée is a veterinarian.”

The arms dealer looked at Kelli with wide eyes. “This is true?
Dios mío
, you will look at Felix?”

“Of course,” Kelli said, setting her purse on a bench beside the door and taking a step forward. “What seems to be the problem?”