Fiancee for Hire (2 page)

You’re overthinking again
, Mac warned himself as he turned and began walking along the beach with Kelli’s arm tucked in his. As she fell into step beside him, Mac began to speak.

“As Sheri undoubtedly told you, the mission will take place in Todos Santos, Mexico. I understand you’ve been?”

She nodded, her hair brushing his shoulder through his short-sleeved shirt. “A couple times for vacation,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to return to head up a spay-neuter clinic.”

“Yes, my sister mentioned that.” He cleared his throat. “I also understand you speak Spanish fairly well?”

“I minored in it as an undergrad before veterinary school.”

He nodded. “Your limited duties would allow you the freedom to pursue the veterinary effort.”

“Right.” Kelli kicked her bare foot through the sand, and Mac noticed her toenails were painted a pale shell pink. “About those duties,” she said. “What can you tell me about the mission?”

She said the word with air quotes, a detail Mac found both endearing and irritating. “Have you heard the name Pedro Ubano Trujillo Zapata?” he asked carefully.

“No. Though I appreciate the fact that his initials spell PUTZ.”

“You’ll want to refrain from pointing that out if you meet him.” Mac stopped speaking as he steered her around a gnarly piece of driftwood. “Pedro is one of the most notorious crime bosses in Mexico. Gangs, drugs, arms deals—he’s got a hand in all of it. The latter is of a particular interest to the U.S. military.”

“Arms deals?” she repeated, sounding leery.

“The United States government is dedicated to keeping dangerous weapons out of the hands of terrorists,” he said. “Zapata has a massive cache of stolen weapons he’s preparing to sell to the highest bidder. The U.S. military has contracted with me to serve as one of those bidders. There’s also another man vying for the weapons. Have you heard the name of Faouzi Ahmed Al-Zawahiri?”

“That sounds familiar. Was he the guy in that CNN special about the FBI’s most wanted terrorists?”

“He’s number one,” Mac said, pleased by her knowledge of current events. And by the way their height difference allowed him to see down the front of her dress. But mostly by her knowledge, dammit. “Obviously, it’s in everyone’s best interest if I obtain the weapons over Al-Zawahiri, and I’ve been cleared to pay handsomely to make that happen.”

“So what’s the catch? I mean, why do you need me?”

Mac frowned. He’d rehearsed his answer to this question, but still felt embarrassed saying the words aloud. “Zapata’s lovely young wife, Griselda, is a woman with whom I once had relations.”

“Ah,” Kelli said. “I see.”

“Her husband is mistrustful.”

“Got it.”

“The situation is rather delicate.”

Kelli nodded and stopped walking. She looked up at him with the moonlight casting a glow on her soft features, and for an instant, Mac felt his heart stop.

“So you boned his babe, and he doesn’t trust you,” she said.

Mac blinked, taken aback by the blunt statement coming from those perfect pink lips. He nodded, too flummoxed to reply right away.

“More or less,” he said at last, conscious of her hand on his arm. “Or more accurately, he doesn’t trust her. Or at least he didn’t until I identified myself as a happily engaged man. At that point, negotiations began to swing in my favor.”

“I see,” she said, trailing a toe through the sand as she began to walk again. Mac followed, not sure how she’d taken the lead, but feeling no urge to take it back. “So what would I have to do?”

“Appear at several casual functions with Zapata and his wife,” he replied. “Remain smiling, silent, sweet, and elegant. Play the role of the adoring fiancée.”

“How much adoration are we talking about?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Adoration.” Kelli looked up at him and smiled. “Am I looking at you like I appreciate the fact that you pulled my chair out at dinner, or like you pulled my hair while doing me against a wall?”

He swallowed and pushed back the image her words painted in a dark corner of his mind. Christ, she was something. “Uh, how about something in between?”

“Gotcha.”

Mac kept walking. There was one last thing he needed to say, but he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. “Look, I need to make it clear up front that this is strictly a business arrangement. In real life, I’m hardly the marrying type.”

“Are you always this romantic?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Kelli laughed. “Romance isn’t my specialty, either.”

He nodded, relieved at her response. “Any sort of emotional entanglement would compromise my ability to protect you in that environment. Keeping you safe is a top priority. That, and securing the arms deal, of course.”

“I understand completely.”

She didn’t. Not completely anyway, not the reason he’d always been this way. That was something he didn’t talk about with anyone. Not ever.

They walked in silence for a moment, Mac conscious of her every footstep, every inhalation of breath, every tickle of soft blond curls against the sleeve of his black linen shirt. He could tell she was thinking and didn’t want to rush her. He glanced down at the sand and saw a flash of something illuminated by moonlight.

He caught her around the waist, pulling her into his arms. She gave a soft squeak of surprise, but came willingly, soft and fragrant and pliant against his body. He held her cradled to his chest, her feet suspended in air, her breath warm on his throat, her curves soft and warm beneath her dress.

Her eyes met his, and something stirred in his chest.

“Glass,” he breathed, his face scant inches from hers.

“What?”

“You almost stepped on a broken bottle.”

“Oh.” Her eyes darted to the sand, then back to his. Her throat moved as she swallowed, and Mac ached to kiss her there. “I see.”

He knew he should set her down, but hesitated. She felt so good in his arms. So warm and soft and sweet and deliciously fuckable.

No. Keep this professional
.

He kicked the bottle out of the way and set her on her feet. She blinked up at him, her expression equal parts startled and intrigued. She licked her lips. “You could have just warned me.”

“Not my style.”

“I’m glad,” Kelli said, stooping to pick up the bottle, presumably so someone else didn’t step on it. Conscientious of her.

She gazed up at him, her blue eyes pale in the moonlight. Mac resisted the urge to grab for her again.

“I’ll do it on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“Take off your sunglasses.”

“Why?”

“If I’m going to put my life on hold and my safety in your hands, I want to look you in the eye first.”

He hesitated. Then he reached up and removed them, his eyes locking with hers. Her lips parted, but she didn’t blink. He held her gaze for one heartbeat, two, three, four—

“Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Two

Kelli stepped through the doors of the baggage claim area at the San Jose del Cabo airport and straight into the arms of—well, not her dashing groom.

“Kelli!” squealed Anna Keebler, grabbing her friend in a bear hug so tight, Kelli felt all the air leave her lungs. She hugged back, happy to have a friendly face greeting her the instant she set foot in a foreign land.

Not that she would have minded Mac’s not-so-friendly face. Still it was good to see Anna.

“Hey, Anna,” Kelli said. “Thanks for coming.”

“I’m so happy to see you,” Anna gushed, stepping back and tucking strands of stick-straight auburn hair behind her ears. A thick purple streak ran down the side just behind her ear, which was new. Last time Kelli had seen her, it had been green. Somehow it looked perfect on Anna, a woman whose entire career revolved around planning offbeat weddings.

“I couldn’t believe it when you called out of the blue like that to say you’re engaged,” Anna gushed. “Has it really been a year since we’ve seen each other? I can’t wait to get started on your wedding.”

The words hit Kelli in the gut, and she felt a pang of guilt for lying to her friend. But this is what she and Mac had agreed upon during their hasty strategy session.

“Your friend—the one who’s the wedding planner in Portland?” Mac had prompted, and Kelli hadn’t bothered to hide her surprise he’d investigated her closest friends. “Get her out to Todos Santos right away. Set up some wedding planning meetings someplace public. We need Zapata to see us behaving like a normal engaged couple.”

Kelli had tried to point out that Anna didn’t really do normal—Anna’s Weird Weddings specialized in
Star Trek
-themed ceremonies and receptions in which guests reenacted the battle of Gettysburg—but Mac just shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. A wedding’s a wedding, and it’s important this look as authentic as possible when Zapata’s spies start sniffing around. A real bride would go to her friend who’s a wedding planner for this sort of thing, so that’s what you need to do.”

And Kelli hadn’t argued, eager as she was to seem agreeable and compliant, not to mention her excitement at seeing the old pal she’d roomed with back in grad school. Mac had waved his magic American Express wand, and Anna had boarded a plane for Mexico, arriving a day before Kelli.

“I’ve been e-mailing a bit with your groom,” Anna said, scooping up two pieces of Kelli’s luggage and loading it onto a cart. “Stoic kind of guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that.”

“You always did like them a bit detached. Honestly, I’m a little surprised you’re settling down.”

“Why’s that?” Kelli asked, hoping she hadn’t already blown her cover three minutes off the airplane.

“It always seemed like you went for these unavailable guys who hated commitment as much as you did. Like you figured if you didn’t get attached, you wouldn’t get hurt if he left the way your dad did or like your mom—” Anna stopped, wincing. She squeezed Kelli’s hand and gave her an encouraging smile. “Well anyway, obviously, I was wrong about that. I’m so glad you found the one.”

“Me, too!” Kelli said, trying to fix her face into the expressing of a glowing bride and not a woman who’d just been unwittingly psychoanalyzed by one of her closest pals.

“Come on,” Anna said, steering her toward the doors. “It’s a two-hour drive to Todos Santos, and we’re supposed to meet Mac for dinner at this great little restaurant near the beach.”

Kelli glanced at her watch, frowning. “So soon?”

“I guess he’s really eager to get started on the wedding plans.”

He’s really eager to have Zapata’s spies see us publicly planning a wedding
, Kelli thought, but grabbed the rest of her luggage and followed Anna out to her rental car.

They talked throughout the drive to Todos Santos, with Anna chattering happily about potential wedding sites she’d scoped out. “He said money’s no object, so I’m coming up with a few different options for themes and settings,” Anna said. “Have you guys set a date yet?”

“We’re still talking about it,” Kelli said, wishing Mac had spent more time briefing her on their fake wedding and less time prepping her for how to react in a gun battle. Not that she wasn’t grateful, but she hated the awkwardness of fibbing to a friend.

“How did you two meet, anyway?” Anna asked. “I wanted to pump him for details, but he didn’t seem the type to cough up that sort of info.”

“Not unless you waterboard him,” Kelli said. She cleared her throat, reminding herself that Mac had instructed her to stick as close to the truth as possible.

“This is why the plan works,” he’d coached. “It’s actually believable we’ve been smitten with each other for years.”

No shit
, Kelli thought, and smiled brightly for Anna.

“You met my friend Sheri, right? At that one party a few years ago—”

“Of course, right, the brunette? She had twins, didn’t she?”

“Exactly. Anyway, Mac is her older brother. We’ve known each other forever, and I always had a bit of a crush on him.”

Anna grinned and banked left to avoid hitting a tumbleweed blowing across the desert landscape. “So Sheri set you up?”

“Something like that,” Kelli said. “It was kind of a whirlwind engagement, to be honest.”

“You’re not knocked up, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“So how did he propose?”

Kelli bit her lip. She’d pictured a million scenarios with Mac over the years. Mac tied to her four-poster bed licking her nipples. Mac pressing her up against the kitchen counter and taking her from behind. Mac ravaging her on a beach with waves crashing around them and the hot sun beating down on their naked flesh.

But never this. Never a proposal.

“We were walking on the beach in Kauai just after sunset,” Kelli said, sticking as close to the truth as she could. “And he pretended he was bending down to pick up a bottle I was about to step on, but instead he got down on one knee.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“What did he say?”

Kelli swallowed, wishing like hell she were a better liar. “Well, since he was eye level with my tits at that point, he said he wanted to spend the rest of his life admiring them, along with the rest of my body, mind, and soul. Then he asked me to marry him. After that, we had sex on the beach and I spent the next two days digging sand out of my butt crack.”

“That’s weirdly romantic,” Anna said. “I can’t wait to meet this guy in real life.”

You and me both
, Kelli thought, wondering why she’d never really gotten to know Mac in all these years of crushing on him.

“Let’s see the ring!” Anna demanded.

“Oh. Uh, I actually don’t have it yet. Everything happened so fast with the proposal, but Mac said he picked something out at a jeweler down here. We’re going to pick it up tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it’s gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous,” Kelli parroted, making a mental note to discuss jewelry with her bogus betrothed.

“This is the place,” Anna said, pointing to a sunny stucco building on the right-hand side of a tree-lined street. “Oh! Parking spot right up front. That’s a good-luck sign, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” Kelli agreed, thinking she needed all the luck she could get. She opened her car door and stepped out into the bright Mexico sun.

She was used to heat, living in Hawaii for the last five years, but this was a dry heat. A desert heat, though she could smell saltwater on the air and hear mariachi music somewhere in the distance. Anna led the way into the restaurant with Kelli plodding behind, feeling a bit like an accessory instead of the bride.

She spotted him in the far corner of the sunny outdoor patio and her heart clenched. He wore black—of course—though in deference to the weather, the short-sleeved shirt looked like lightweight silk and his trousers were linen. The ever-present sunglasses were in place, and his hair looked freshly cut. He had his back to the stone wall and an equally stony expression on his face.

The expression didn’t change as the two of them approached the table. “Mac?” Anna said, extending her hand. “Such a pleasure to finally meet you. So sorry we’re late.”

“Ladies,” Mac said, standing to shake Anna’s hand before reaching for Kelli’s. She frowned, wondering if he really intended to greet his fiancée with a businesslike handshake. Perhaps sensing her discomfort, Mac took her hand and pulled her close, embracing her in a way that almost seemed warm.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “So good to see you.”

His body was hard and hot and solid against hers, and Kelli couldn’t resist the urge to press herself closer, sliding one hand down to give his backside a familiar squeeze. She felt him stiffen and smiled to herself, pressing her breasts snug against his chest. She tilted her head back and smiled up at him with her most angelic expression.

“I missed you, Honeybear.”

“You, too—uh—Cupcake.”

“Aren’t you two just adorable,” Anna said, pulling out a chair and sitting down. She tucked a hunk of hair behind her ear, the purple streak glinting pleasantly in the sun.

Kelli still hadn’t taken her hand off Mac’s ass.

He drew back, and Kelli felt chilled, still craving the feel of his body against hers. Instead, he pulled out a chair and gestured Kelli into it.

The perfect gentleman,
Kelli thought glumly, wishing he would have at least copped a feel.

Mac sat down beside her, close enough she could still feel the heat of his body. She rested her arms on the table, deliberately crossing her legs so her bare toes grazed his shin through his pants.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” Anna asked, opening up a notebook. “As you both know, my specialty is in offbeat weddings, but I understand from Mac that you’re looking for something a bit more traditional?”

“Traditional,” Kelli repeated, glancing at Mac. His expression was unreadable behind those damn dark glasses, so she looked back at Anna. “Well, yes. Mac does like things to be just so.”

“Of course,” Mac agreed, leaning back in his chair in a pose his sister called Commander of the Universe behind his back. “We’re thinking something simple, elegant, demure, understated, sweet. Just like Kelli.”

Mac smiled at her, clearly thinking he’d paid her a compliment. Across the table, Anna choked on her ice water.

“Kelli?” she gasped. “Sweet and demure?” She glanced from Mac to Kelli and back again as though waiting for the punch line.

Kelli kicked her under the table, hoping Anna wouldn’t tell the story about the cowboy bar when Kelli rode the buckin’ bronc topless while three guys with Nerf rifles—

“I think what Mac is saying,” Kelli said, nudging Anna with her toe again, “is that we want something classy.”

“Classy,” Anna repeated, still looking at Kelli like she had ferrets coming out her ears. “Got it. Okay then, here are a few locations I’ve been looking at for the two of you.” She spread an array of snapshots on the table, each marked with information about cost and the number of people it could accommodate. “This one right here has stunning views of the ocean, while this one has on-site catering that’s magnificent.”

“Very nice,” Kelli said, admiring the landscaped grounds and trying to think of an appropriately bride-like observation. “The statue in that fountain looks very well-endowed.”

Anna cocked her head as she studied the photo again. “Yes, I suppose he does. We could put pants on him if you think guests would be offended.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“What about that spot on the cliff?” Mac asked, smiling at Kelli with what she assumed was supposed to be the look of a doting groom who wanted the very best for his bride. He looked more like a lion eyeing a tasty gazelle covered in chocolate syrup. Kelli swallowed. He put his hand on her knee, and the possessiveness of the gesture made her skin buzz pleasantly.

Mac looked back at Anna, who was clicking her pen the way she often did when anxious. “The place on the cliff,” he repeated. “The one I sent you the link to yesterday?”

“Yes, well, it’s very lovely, but I thought with Kelli’s intense fear of heights—”

“It’s fine, really,” Kelli said, hurrying to cover Mac’s misstep. “I’m totally over that.”

“You are?” Anna asked, looking dubious. “But it was only a year ago you refused to go up the Space Needle with me on that girls’ trip to Seattle.”

“Intense hypnosis,” Mac said. “Very effective in curing phobias.”

“Absolutely,” Kelli agreed, steeling a glance at her groom. His hand was still on her knee, and she willed it to slide higher. “Hypnosis is excellent for all kinds of phobias. It worked wonders for Mac’s aulophobia. And you wouldn’t believe what a severe case of helmintophobia he was dealing with until Dr. Hillman got a hold of him.”

Mac frowned, and Kelli wished like hell she could see behind his sunglasses. He had beautiful eyes, large and brown and much warmer than she ever would have guessed.

“Er, right,” Anna said, looking baffled. “Okay then, we’ll take a look at that spot on the cliff later this week. In the meantime, do you two want to talk about cake?”

“Lemon,” Kelli said. “Definitely lemon with buttercream frosting.”

“But only on half,” Mac added. “I’m allergic to lemon.”

“Of course, dear,” Kelli said, feeling her stomach sink as she reached over and patted his hand. “I was just talking about the top tier. The one couples stick in the freezer to eat on their first anniversary but end up throwing away because who the hell wants to eat year-old frozen cake?”

“There’s a local baker who makes some really unique creations,” Anna offered. “There’s this one with glorious chocolate fondant and three tiers with Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and—”

“No,” Mac interrupted, his voice so sharp Kelli felt her heart stutter. “No Reese’s Peanut Butter anything.” He pulled his hand from her knee, and Kelli’s skin went cold.

She nodded in what she hoped was a show of support as the hair on her arms prickled.
What the hell was that about?

“So—vanilla?” Anna said helpfully. “Or maybe Dutch chocolate. If you’d like, I can arrange a cake tasting for you at one of the bakeries in Todos Santos, though there’s a really good one in Cabo if you’re up for a bit of a drive.”