Authors: Dara England
“Well,” she asked, more flippantly than she felt, “have I been made suitable for your needs?” She hadn’t forgotten his arrogant comments on their last encounter.
His expression was unreadable. “You’ll do,” was all he said, in the same flat tone he might’ve used to indicate his meal had been prepared adequately or his shirts had been pressed correctly. His expectation had been met apparently, but not exceeded.
Teagan flushed with humiliation. Hadn’t she spent the last hour fussing over her appearance just to please him? Or rather, to please his grandfather, since he was at the heart of this whole charade.
“Ah, a little fire in your eyes at last,” he said, with a hint of humor. “I was beginning to think you were impossible to ruffle. But withholding complements usually brings out the temper, even in the shyest of flowers.”
Teagan avoided his eyes. “You’re mistaken,” she said awkwardly. “The anger you refer to comes purely from your own imagination.”
“I see. So if you aren’t offended by the lack of flattery, you’re hurt.”
She sidestepped the question. “Isn’t it time we were on our way?”
“Just as soon as you fetch your bag. And don’t forget your coat either. The temperature is dropping.”
Feeling a little like a chided child, Teagan followed his direction and in moments, they had left the shadowed stairwell of the apartment house behind them and were stepping out onto the street. Here she discovered he hadn’t been kidding about the cooling temperatures. The dark skies had finally let loose their promised store, and all around Teagan tiny white flakes were fluttering softly to the ground. The sidewalks were cold enough that some of the fall was already beginning to stick.
Sir took her firmly by the elbow, an unexpected gesture she only just stopped from shaking off, and led her to a waiting limousine on the corner. “Grandfather sent his car,” Sir offered by way of explanation as Teagan hesitated, gaping before the long black vehicle. Opening the door for her and ushering her inside, he waited until she had settled in the backseat before sliding in beside her.
Inside, Teagan took in her surroundings with unconcealed awe. A week ago she had been living on the streets, and now here she was making herself comfortable in the back of a limousine. It was a bit much to take in. Overhead the ceiling glowed with dots of multicolored lights that alternated from red to blue to green. Directly before her, just above eye level, a mini viewing screen—blank, for the moment—was suspended from the ceiling alongside a series of buttons evidently controlling the car’s CD player.
Opposite her was another row of seats and across from them an elegant minibar. This was stocked with enough champagne flutes to serve a dozen passengers. Buckets on either side of the bar held bottles Teagan guessed to be champagne. At the very front of the car, the head and shoulders of the driver were just visible over the back of the seat, though a tinted window was raised between the front and the back of the car.
Sir had no sooner sunk into the leather-covered seat beside her and pulled the door shut, than the long vehicle rolled away from the curb, slowly entering the lanes of cars. As they maneuvered through the thick streams of traffic toward downtown, Teagan wanted to concentrate on the ride, to memorize every extravagant detail of her unreal surroundings, so she could replay them in her mind again when she was home alone in her bed tonight. Unfortunately, her excitement was intruded upon by an unwelcome distraction.
Although she sat in the very center of the backseat, and even though there was plenty of room to spare on either side of her, Sir, for whatever unknown reason, seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure in crowding up against her until their legs touched. Only the knowledge he would no doubt find the motion entertaining prevented Teagan from sliding further along the seat to occupy a spot near the opposite door.
She searched for some diversion to take her mind off the feel of his warm leg pressed against hers. “Are we going to stop somewhere and pick up your grandfather?” she asked, grasping at the first topic to come to mind.
If Sir sensed the purpose of her weak efforts at conversation, he let it pass. “No. He’ll have been there long ahead of us by the time we arrive.”
“He’s a fairly generous man, giving the two of us the use of his car.”
“He can afford to be.” Sir leaned forward to pour himself a glass of champagne from the minibar. Teagan couldn’t help noticing the bottle had already been opened on his ride here and a number of champagne flutes already sat empty along the bar. “Drink?” he offered now, but Teagan shook her head. In Sir’s presence she always felt the need to keep her wits about her.
“Anyway,” he continued, taking up the thread of conversation. “The old man is hardly without his ulterior motives.” He paused just long enough to down half the drink in a single gulp. “Right now, for instance, you can bet his real intention is to give the two of us a chance to be alone. A convenient opportunity. I suggest we make use of it.”
Teagan started at the unexpected suggestion, prepared to make that embarrassing move to the far side of the seat. A second later, however, she relaxed again, as Sir simply sank further back into his seat and revisited his glass of champagne, apparently disinterested in pursuing his own idea.
“I can never tell when you’re joking or in earnest,” she complained nervously.
“I’m fully serious at the moment.” He set aside his empty flute. “If we’re going to pull this off, we’ll need to get our plans straight. This will be our only chance to review.” He didn’t wait for her acceptance, before continuing. “To begin with, no more of this Sir business. Not tonight anyway. I doubt Grandfather would find it very believable for us to be in a serious relationship and yet not to be on a first name basis. So for the rest of the evening, make an effort to keep to my real name. No slipups either. Grandfather’s a pretty shrewd old cookie.”
“I’ll do my best,” Teagan said, but he seemed not to be listening. Without warning, his hand had descended to rest casually on her knee. Teagan stiffened, but his next words forestalled any protest.
“Secondly, and this is as important as the first rule, you should keep in mind that tonight we play the part of a couple. We’re attracted to one another, we’re in love. In fact, you might just be The One, as far as Grandfather is to know. So if you can’t prevent yourself from leaping toward the ceiling every time I lay a hand on you, we might as well call this whole show off and just go home.”
At his reproving tone, indignation descended over her, but he gave her no opportunity to interrupt.
“Now if we’ve gotten the easy parts ironed out, let’s move on to the more technical details. Grandfather may ask questions—how we met, what you do for a living, that sort of thing. I’ve tried to keep all references to my mysterious lady love rather vague, so you aren’t in much danger of tripping my story up. If in doubt, however, just keep quiet and follow my lead. I’ve invented a few answers that should keep everyone satisfied.”
“You appear to have put a great deal of thought into this scheme.”
He smiled—a rare sight. “I’ve thought about it for all of two days,” he responded. “Before that, I never knew I was going to be required to produce the new woman in my life.”
“And what if you’re asked to display her again after tonight?” she voiced her curiosity. “Won’t your grandfather expect to see her again on other occasions?”
“I’ll think of something.” He turned from staring out the window to glance in her direction. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll break up. Or better yet, maybe I’ll kill you off at some point.”
Teagan didn’t laugh. With the apprehensive state she was in this evening, his words had struck a little too close to home. Avoiding his gaze, she stared down at his hand on her thigh and felt any lingering remnants of excitement at her surroundings, her extravagant costume, or the coming events of the evening draining away.
Sir must have noticed the change in her mood. Following the direction of her eyes and evidently misreading her discomfort, he surprised her by carefully withdrawing his hand. They rode the remainder of the way in cool silence.
Chapter 23
The banquet was underway on the top floor of one of the city’s ritziest restaurants. Teagan had plenty of time on the ride up in the elevator to listen to Sir run through a quick final reminder of all the points she needed to watch out for. Grandfather Rotham was a little on the devious side, and if he suspected for a moment that she was merely some woman Sir had dragged in off the streets to play the part, he would try to trip her up with trick questions. It was important to keep her wits about her throughout the evening. When they stepped off the elevator, she wasn’t to gawk about her as if she had never seen such richness. She also had to remember she was on very intimate terms with Sir. And although he hadn’t made her background too impressive, she should at least try to sound cultured when she entered into any conversation. If she couldn’t do that, she would do best to avoid talking.
Teagan tried to take in all of his instructions, but her mind was abuzz with its own concerns, and those had little to do with impressing Grandfather Rotham or anybody else. A desire had been growing in her over the past half hour to ask Sir the question that had been plaguing her all day—a question that had nothing to do with the banquet or any of their plans for the night.
What business had he had yesterday with the man in the blue coat? She knew it was a bad time to be obsessing about anything other than the events at hand but couldn’t quite shake the fears that had been planted in her at the park this afternoon. Only uncertainty over the reaction her question might draw kept her silent. After all, if the connection was one he truly wished her unaware of, wouldn’t it be dangerous to confess her knowledge?
The elevator came to a smooth halt and there was no more time for thinking. The opening doors before her revealed an atmosphere of soft lighting, live music, and mingling figures crowding the floor space. Overhead, heavy crystal chandeliers hung dark from the ceiling while pale wall lights provided the illumination. At the center of the room a band played a quiet tune that scarcely rose over the babble of voices and the clink of glasses and silverware.
Circular tables were spaced around the space, surrounding the deeply sunken area where the band was set up and where a vast space of wooden floor had been left open for dancing. That area was clear at the moment, as guests still hovered around their tables, chatting gaily and sipping sparkling drinks from tall flutes. Taking in the mass of tuxedos and glittering evening gowns around her, Teagan immediately felt grateful for Sir’s efforts on her behalf. One or two female gusts she saw equaled her attire but none outshone it.
So intent was she on drinking in her surroundings she hardly noticed when Sir stepped behind her to slip her fur coat off her shoulders and hand it over to an attendant. He had plastered a small, artificial smile on his face the moment the doors opened onto the scene, and now he put his mouth close to her ear. “You’re gawking,” he chided lowly.
Teagan instantly dragged her gaze away from massive pillars along the room’s edges and the floral arrangements spilling out of wall vases and dotting tabletops. She even managed not to start too obviously when Sir put his hand against the small of her back and began guiding her through the maze of visiting guests and graceful servers, ushering her toward the tables across the room.
Almost at once, they were surrounded by a cluster of guests, Sir’s apparent acquaintances, who greeted him, gushing about his grandfather’s generosity in putting together the fund-raising occasion, and congratulating him on its already certain success. Teagan felt distinctly uncomfortable being at the center of their attention, even if it was Sir who was garnering most of the conversation. She was aware of the curious eyes on her, no doubt speculating as to who this female companion was.
Finally the question was put into words. “And who is this charming young lady of yours?” a middle-aged woman, who Sir called Elisabeth, asked. She flashed Teagan a dazzling smile that was at once welcoming and questioning. Teagan had the notion she was being measured, possibly to see how well she looked on the arm of the most important man in the room.
Sir never missed a beat. “May I present my fiancée, Teagan. Teagan, Ms. Elisabeth Parker, my good friend since… How long has it been, Liz? Ten years or more?”
Teagan missed the response. She was too busy reeling from the newest twist to this ridiculous pretense.
“Fiancée?” she demanded the moment they had escaped the group.
“Keep your voice down,” he answered, never taking his eyes from the crowd they navigated. “I didn’t plan on it. The lie got away from me. Anyway, what difference does it make? Fiancée or girlfriend, you’re getting paid the same.”
“I suppose…” She trailed off. Why did it make a difference?
They were approaching one of the larger tables at the center of the room. Here, nearly a dozen strangers—or strangers to Teagan—sat in conversation. It was obvious as they approached who dominated this group. An older man—the word elderly hardly seemed appropriate for him—had the attention of the entire table as he leaned forward recounting some anecdote that had the other ladies and gentlemen in varying states of laughter.
Sir pulled her to a halt behind this man. “What, Grandfather? Not waiting for us?” he asked over the older man’s shoulder. The other man turned and when he did, Teagan felt as if she were looking at one of those computer generated photos that showed what an individual might look like with ten years of age added to him. Or in this case, closer to forty years added.
From a distance, the silvery hair and the shrunken frame had thrown her briefly. But the moment she caught a glimpse of the aging man’s face, there was no failing to notice the resemblance he shared with his grandson. His face was older, the skin loose and heavily lined. But they shared the same bone structure. And Teagan thought the moment she felt the older man’s gaze sweep over her, the same dark eyes. Only where Sir’s had a dangerous, brooding quality, the elder Mr. Rotham had a shrewder glint.