Read Rent a Millionaire Groom Online

Authors: Judy Christenberry

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BOOK: Rent a Millionaire Groom
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Suddenly Phoebe and Daisy stood and were heading to the door. “We’ll go now. I’m tired,” Phoebe said, offering a yawn.

“Yeah, it’s been a long day,” Daisy added.

“But you haven’t told us about your date with Dave,” Elise protested, partly because she wondered what had happened and partly because she was afraid to be alone with James.

“Oh, suffice it to say, I won’t be going out with Dave again.” Daisy started out the door.

“Wait!” Elise called. “What did he do? He’s always seemed nice enough.”

“For an octopus. He’s got more hands than any man I’ve ever dated. He couldn’t understand my reluctance to have sex with him before we’d even eaten.”

James stood, frowning. “He didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” Daisy protested, but her cheeks were flushed. “I’ll admit he scared me a little. I didn’t think he was going to stop…but he did.”

“I’ll talk to him,” James said, his voice firm.

All three protested. Elise stepped closer to James. “Really, it’s all right. Daisy is safe, and we like to take care of our own problems.”

“Independent ladies? I understand, but if you need
me, Daisy, or you, too, Phoebe, I’ll do what I can for you. Any friend of Elise is a friend of mine.”

Elise couldn’t bring herself to mention the temporary nature of their relationship. She believed his words came from his heart, and they were very sweet. She could tell her friends thought so, too.

They both stepped forward to kiss James’s cheek. Then they said good-night and slipped from the apartment.

“Well,” she said with a sigh, clutching her hands in front of her to stop herself from reaching out to touch him, “you’ve certainly played the role of Superman, saving the day, James. Thank you very much.”

He stepped to her side. “I was glad to do it. But don’t make me out to be too heroic. I used Frannie’s problem as an excuse to see you tonight.” He reached his hands out and ran them up and down her arms.

“But you were already here when you offered to protect Daisy and Phoebe,” she pointed out.

“No woman should be treated like that.”

“I know. I feel badly that the man I set her up with did that. I’ve never heard any whispers about Dave. I thought he seemed like a nice man.” Elise vowed to check out any prospective dates for Daisy a little more thoroughly in the future.

“Don’t feel guilty. That’s not something a woman would know,” he assured her.

As he said those soft words, he wrapped his arms around her, gently tugging her against him.

It felt like coming home. Warm, exciting, comforting. She leaned against him, letting her head rest
on his strong shoulder. His fingers sifted through her hair.

“I called because I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered.

Shivers rolled through Elise. “I hoped you would. But then I got distracted by Frannie. And I’d told you to stay away.”

“I didn’t want to,” he assured her. He captured her chin and tilted her head up until his lips met hers.

Elise couldn’t help giving in to his temptation. The man seemed to know every button to push.

The telephone rang.

Saved, she thought. Otherwise, she might’ve invited him into her bedroom.

“Hello?”

A feminine voice, a young woman, asked, “Is James there?”

Elise admitted to herself she’d needed a reminder of James’s role in her life, but she hadn’t expected one so soon. “Is this Sandra?”

“Why, yes!” the young woman exclaimed, startled.

“Just a moment.” Elise held out the receiver to James. “It’s for you.”

Then she moved to stand beside the door, ready to escort him out of her apartment before he could convince her differently. As soon as he finished his conversation with Sandra.

Frowning, James took the phone. “Hello?”

Elise pretended not to listen. There wasn’t much to listen to. Just an “Of course.” “Yes.” “Bye.”

Then he came toward her.

She swung open the door.

“Good night.”

“Elise, let me explain.”

“That’s quite all right. I hope she understood.”

“A lot more than you do,” he muttered.

If she got any stiffer, she feared she’d never move again. “I apologize if I’m not good at pretending.”

“That’s not what I meant. Elise, let me—”

“Please leave, James. I’ll see you Tuesday night.”

With a sigh, he walked past her.

Though she longed for a last kiss, she slammed the door after him before he could even turn around. She couldn’t take that risk.

Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to Sandra.

Even more, it wouldn’t be fair to her. Just once, now that she was alone, she could admit that she’d done the one thing she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do.

She’d fallen in love with James.

Chapter Thirteen

James drove directly from Elise’s apartment to the Good Samaritan Hospital. Sandra had called because Bobby had broken his arm.

After making sure his brother was all right, James asked the question that had bothered him. “How did you get Elise’s number? I didn’t think you had it.”

“It was on caller-ID. Remember, she called the apartment looking for you?” Bobby said.

James frowned. “You kept it?”

“I jotted it down. Never know when it might come in handy,” Bobby assured him with a grin. Probably because James continued to frown, he asked, “It wasn’t a problem, was it?”

James felt guilty complaining when his brother was sitting there in pain. Or, at least, he had been hurting until he took a pain pill. Now he seemed a little loopy. “No, of course not.” He turned to the young woman who was unknowingly playing such an important role in his own life right now. “It was good of you to drive him to the hospital, Sandra.”

“It was the least I could do,” the young woman replied, looking guilty.

“Honey, I told you it wasn’t your fault,” Bobby protested. “We shouldn’t have been wrestling.”

James’s eyebrow rose. “Wrestling? I should think not.”

Sandra turned bright red. “We weren’t really. I found a picture of Bobby when he was little and he didn’t want me to see it.”

James knew immediately which picture Sandra was talking about. Their mother had believed in taking crying pictures of her sons. It was hard to appear macho with tears streaking down your cheeks. “Oh. I see.”

Bobby closed his eyes. “I should’ve burned it.”

“I thought it was sweet,” Sandra said, a dreamy smile on her face.

James had seen that look before on his brother’s women. He only hoped Bobby felt the same way. “Look, I’ll take Bobby back to my house. MaryBelle can fuss over him for a couple of days, until he’s better. I don’t think he should be alone while he’s taking pain pills.”

“I could take care of him,” Sandra offered eagerly.

“You’ll have to go to classes. But feel free to visit him at my house whenever you want. MaryBelle will love the company.”

Once he’d seen Sandra on her way, James drove his car to the exit door and loaded Bobby in.

“Where’s your spiffy Mercedes?” Bobby asked in slurred tones.

“At home. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Just—sleepy.” Then he put his head back and began to snore.

James reached for his car phone to warn MaryBelle that they were having a guest, then realized he didn’t have a phone in the borrowed car. He guessed Bobby would have to be a surprise.

Like the surprise he’d gotten when Sandra called Elise’s apartment. Damn, he hadn’t known how he’d explain that to Elise, even though he’d offered. He couldn’t tell her his brother had broken his arm. She might see Bobby at school, once he was up and around, and, as much as they looked alike, Elise might put two and two together.

All this subterfuge was draining. He’d liked the anonymity he’d borrowed when he first assumed Bobby’s identity, but now it was bothersome. Elise enjoyed his company without knowing about his money. That was good. But she also didn’t want anything to do with him because she thought he was in love with Sandra.

He couldn’t tell her it was Bobby who loved Sandra.

He
was the one who loved Elise.

“No!” he exclaimed, almost driving off the road. He’d promised himself to never again be vulnerable to a woman. But Elise wasn’t Sylvia. That much he knew.

The important thing was not to move too fast. Not to make a declaration until he was sure. Right now, he enjoyed Elise’s company. He wasn’t ready to commit to anything, he assured himself. Besides, there were too many roadblocks in the way right now.

But one thing was for sure, Elise sure made life fun again.

 

E
LISE WORE HER JEANS
Tuesday night. But she also wore a cotton sweater that more than covered her rear. While it was warm during the day in March, the evenings were in the low sixties. And sitting beside an ice rink for the game would be even cooler. She’d need the comfort of the long sleeves.

And the sweater wasn’t green.

It was a teal blue that gave her eyes a blue cast. She pulled her hair back in a ponytail, though it wasn’t as severe as she usually wore to school; several strands curled around her face. With gold hoops in her ears, she thought she’d achieved a casual, non-seductive appearance.

She wouldn’t want James to know how long she’d spent choosing the perfect outfit.

Nor did she want James to know how long she’d grieved over Sandra’s phone call. That he had given her number to his real girlfriend shouldn’t have been a surprise. But it was.

Tonight, she intended to concentrate on hockey, not her escort. There would be no exchange of kisses.

Did he tell Sandra he’d kissed Elise?

Elise clenched her fists. If
her
boyfriend were kissing another woman, she’d murder him. Good thing James wasn’t her boyfriend, because she suspected he was kissing Sandra.

The picture that had been in the newspaper popped into her head. Yes, he was definitely kissing her.

Fighting off the depression that filled her, she grabbed her shoulder bag and went down to Frannie’s apartment. She didn’t want any time alone with James.

Frannie definitely hadn’t gone the casual, non
seductive approach in her choice of clothing. She wore a red short-sleeved, V-neck sweater that showed off every curve and offered a seductive view of her cleavage. The sweater ended at the top of her tight jeans. If she raised her arm, Elise knew, she’d be showing skin.

“Um, aren’t you afraid you’ll get cold?” she asked Frannie, after her friend had invited her into the apartment.

“I’m hoping,” Frannie said with a big smile. “Then Bill will have to hold me close to keep me warm.”

“Oh.” Elise sat on the couch and reached for a cat.

“Didn’t you learn anything at your mother’s knee, child?” Frannie asked.

“I guess not.” She looked at Frannie again. “So you’ve forgiven Bill? No anger left?”

“No. No anger. But I’m determined to show him what he’s got to lose if he messes around with other women. What do you think of this new perfume?”

Elise sniffed and smiled at Frannie, even though she didn’t much care for the scent. It was a heavy, musk-laden smell, probably seductive to men, but it did nothing to her. “It’s unforgettable.”

“That’s what I thought. I’m prepared—”

Someone knocked and Frannie hurried to the door and swung it open. James stood there.

“Frannie, have you talked to Elise? I knocked on her apartment door, but there was no answer.”

Frannie stepped back and swung the door wider. “She’s here with me.”

Elise should have been flattered by the relief vis
ible on James’s face, but she shut that thought out of her head. “Hello, James. I thought it would be easier if we all met here at Frannie’s apartment.”

James stared at her, and she could tell he didn’t believe her excuse. Too bad.

“Is Bill here?” he asked, stepping into the apartment.

“Not yet. Sit down, James,” Frannie suggested, “and I’ll go see what’s keeping him.”

“No!” Elise protested, jumping to her feet. “I mean, there’s no point in that. We’ll go with you, Frannie, and then head straight for his car. We don’t want to be late.”

“Okay,” Frannie agreed. “Come on, and I’ll lock up after you.”

Again Elise felt James’s stare on her, but she wasn’t going to let it bother her. As she stepped out into the hallway, she saw Bill. “Oh, there’s Bill.”

“Am I late?” Bill asked as he joined her and James.

“No,” James assured him. “We were coming to check on you, though. Elise doesn’t want to be late.”

Bill was about to respond when he caught sight of Frannie. He visibly swallowed before he said, “Hi, Frannie. You look lovely tonight.” He seemed to think about what he’d said because he added, “I mean, you both look lovely tonight. James and I are, uh, lucky to be your escorts.”

Frannie gave him a flirtatious smile, linked her arm with his, and said, “You bet you are, sailor. Ready?”

They walked off, leaving James and Elise standing
alone. She immediately turned to hurry after them, but James caught her arm.

“Are you afraid to be alone with me, Elise?” he asked.

“Don’t be silly. I just don’t want to keep them waiting.”

“Is that why you came downstairs to Frannie’s apartment?”

“Why else would I come down?” she asked, staring at him, daring him to suggest anything else.

“You coming?” Bill asked as he held open the front door of Mesa Blue.

Left with no choice, James started moving, but he snagged Elise’s hand and held on as she hurried toward Bill.

“Let me go,” she whispered, trying to tug her hand away.

James ignored her.

She was able to keep her distance, thanks to Bill’s bucket seats, until they were seated in the restaurant Bill had chosen. It was an Italian eatery with cozy booths. James followed her as she slid in, his arm going around her shoulders.

She shrugged, as discreetly as she could, to dislodge him, but he ignored her.

“After I saw all of you Saturday night, guess where I ended my evening,” he said with a casual air, but Elise caught the look he sent her way.

“You saw Frannie and Elise Saturday night?” Bill asked, frowning.

“Oh, yeah, I stopped by Elise’s apartment after I talked to you, and Frannie, Phoebe and Daisy were there. I guess they were having a hen party.”

Frannie had tensed, but after his explanation, she visibly relaxed.

“Where?” she asked, smiling.

“The hospital emergency room. My—my roommate had an accident.”

“You have a roommate?” Frannie asked. “Aren’t you a little old to—I mean, it’s none of my business, but—”

James’s cheeks flamed. “When I started back to school, I had to cut down on expenses.”

Elise would have felt bad about the expensive prices on the menu, but she reminded herself she’d pay in the long run when she settled up with James for his expenses.

Frannie sent a quick look at her escort. Then she said, “Look, we’ll pay for the dinner this evening. After all, you got the tickets.” Then, as if expecting Bill to object, she added, “I’ll pay for our half, Bill.”

James turned even redder, but Bill reached out to clasp Frannie’s hand, which was resting on the table, and smiled sweetly at her. “I already offered, Frannie, but James insisted he pay his share. He said the tickets didn’t cost him anything.”

James leaned forward. “I can afford the meal, Frannie, but it’s sweet of you to offer.”

Frannie looked at Elise for advice, even as she clung to Bill’s hand. “Elise?”

“I assure you, Frannie, James can afford the meal.” Then she turned to him. “Is your roommate seriously injured?”

“No. But I’ve had to watch him. He’s on pain pills.”

“Ooh, I was on those once. I couldn’t think
straight,” Frannie exclaimed. She began telling an anecdote about her strange medication-induced behavior.

Elise pretended to listen attentively to Frannie’s story, but she thought about James’s tale. He was trying to explain why Sandra called. Was she dating his roommate? Or had she been waiting there for him to return?

What did it matter? She knew how Sandra felt about him. That picture had told it all. Even if he wasn’t crazy about her—and thinking about the picture again, she didn’t believe that—they had a relationship that was much more serious than what she and James shared.

Besides, Sandra wasn’t paying for her relationship.

Elise was.

She concentrated on the menu.

 

J
AMES HAD HOPED
that his carefully edited version of the truth would appease Elise, but he couldn’t see much improvement in her demeanor. She avoided looking at him as much as possible and seldom spoke directly to him.

Plus, he’d thoroughly embarrassed himself by saying he had a roommate. He didn’t want Elise to like him because he had money, but he didn’t want anyone thinking he was so poor he couldn’t pay his own way. He guessed his money and success meant more to him than he’d realized.

Which reminded him of his conversation with Elise’s father. It was a relief that Sam knew James could, if he were really going to marry Elise, provide for her. He was glad he’d been able to tell Sam the
truth, though. Sam had accepted the deception he was playing on Sam’s daughter, as long as James promised not to do anything to hurt her.

He was trying.

When they reached the hockey arena, they found their seats. Several of the regular season-ticket holders spoke to him, which made Elise look at him sharply.

“I use the tickets a lot,” he murmured to her as he waved to the others.

“I guess so. Everyone seems to know you.”

Thank goodness he’d used his own name from the beginning, he thought with a sigh of relief.

“Ooh, this is so exciting!” Frannie enthused.

Bill nodded his head. “It’s been a long time since I went to a live game. It’s almost impossible to get tickets. These are great seats, James. You’re lucky.”

“Yeah, I am,” James agreed. He’d taken his success and the benefits of it for granted the past couple of years. Had he turned into a prima donna? he wondered. With Elise beside him tonight, he was seeing things much more clearly.

About to speak to her, he was distracted by Frannie.

“Oh, my, I didn’t realize how cold it would be next to the ice,” she exclaimed, crossing her arms and shivering.

Bill frowned. “I should’ve told you to bring a light jacket. Here, I’ll share—” He began stripping off the sports coat he was wearing.

“Oh, no, Bill, I can’t let you do that. Then you’d be cold. If you just put your arm around my shoul
ders, I should be all right.” She gave him a bright smile.

The man seated behind them leaned forward. “If he don’t want to do it, lady, I’ll keep you warm.”

Frannie smiled at the man, but Bill glowered at him even as he wrapped an arm around Frannie. “I think I can manage without any help.”

Frannie beamed at Bill and settled into his embrace. Then she looked at Elise and winked.

“What did that mean?” James asked, whispering in Elise’s ear.

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