The Best Man's Plan

“Another one of your special requests?” she asked as she opened the door to the small refrigerator built discreetly into the custom woodwork.

“Yes.”

“It must be nice to have everything you want at your fingertips.”

“It is,” he agreed equably. Apparently he wasn’t going to let her push any of his buttons tonight.

He nodded when she motioned with the pitcher, silently asking him if he wanted a glass. She filled an extra one and handed it to him.

He carried the glass to the sofa and sat on one end. After hesitating a moment, she perched on a chair arranged in conversation-group fashion nearby. She thought their casual clothing looked incongruous against the very formal gold-and-cream upholstery, but Bryan was obviously accustomed to making himself comfortable in such rooms. He lounged back against the cushions and crossed his bare feet on the low mahogany table in front of him.

“Are we still on for our high-profile lunch tomorrow?” he asked. “Or would you rather bail out and go home early?”

She wondered if he suspected how tempted she was to accept that escape, but she shook her head. “You said being seen around town together would strengthen the impression that we’re a couple. That’s what we came here to do.”

“You think you can get through an entire meal without dumping a plate of food in my lap?”

“You think you can get through an entire meal without making me mad enough to dump a plate of food in your lap?” she countered.

He grinned. “I can try.”

Her lips tilted into an answered smile. “Then so will I.”

It was so rare for them to smile at each other that the moment caught her off guard. When she realized that he was suddenly staring at her mouth, her smile faded.

Lifting his gaze to her eyes, he asked, “What is it about me, exactly, that annoys you so much? Just so I don’t end up with food in my lap tomorrow.”

She looked down into her orange juice. “I promise I won’t throw food in your lap tomorrow. I know how important it is for us to divert the gossips’ attention away from Chloe and Donovan so they can plan their wedding in peace.”

“Actually, throwing food at me would be a very effective way of diverting attention to us.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Not the right type of attention, perhaps.”

He shrugged, keeping his gaze on her face. “I’m serious, Grace. What is it about me that you dislike so much? I know you didn’t approve of me as a potential suitor for your sister, but that’s over. So…is it something I said? Something I did? You don’t like the way I walk? Talk? Smell?”

She couldn’t help smiling again. “You smell quite nice, actually. Very expensive.”

His left eyebrow rose in an expression that some might call sardonic. “Old Spice. My housekeeper picks it up for me at Wal-Mart when she buys groceries and cleaning supplies. It was the scent my grandfather wore, and I’ve always been rather fond of it.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

“That surprises you.”

“I’m not surprised that you have a housekeeper. Probably one for every house you own.”

“So it’s my money that bothers you.”

She squirmed uncomfortably on the chair. “Let’s just say I’m not accustomed to the kind of wealth and power you command.”

“Would you like me better if I gave it all away?”

Frowning, she shook her head. “No. I mean—”

“So it isn’t entirely the money. It’s me you don’t like.”

She sighed gustily. “I never said I don’t like you.”

“Actually I believe you said you hated me.”

She gave him a reproachful look. “You know I didn’t mean that. I was just blowing off steam after that awkward evening.”

“So you do like me?”

Making a faint sound of frustration, she set her half-empty glass on the coffee table with a thump. “I barely know you, Bryan. You swept into my sister’s life, and almost convinced her to enter into a very businesslike marriage with you. I didn’t approve of that scheme because I know Chloe deserves better than that—she deserves the happiness she’s found with Donovan.”

“She met Donovan because of me,” he reminded her.

“She was also kidnapped and put through four days of hell because of you,” she retorted, making him wince. “And now the gossip columnists are titillated by the possibility that Chloe jilted you, one of the richest, most influential men in the country—a man who made the news a year or so ago for breaking up with one of the most beautiful and famous starlets in the world. And now Chloe’s marrying your best friend and business associate, instead. That vicious prattle has mortified Donovan—who’s so obsessively loyal to you that he almost broke Chloe’s heart rather than risk betraying you with her. And knowing that Donovan is upset bothers Chloe so badly that it was affecting her joy in planning her wedding.”

“I’m aware that her association with me has caused problems for Chloe,” he acknowledged stiffly. “That’s why I wanted to take some of the pressure off her by leading the gossips away. Since she and I only dated a short time before the press found out about her—so briefly and discreetly that they were never quite sure which Pennington twin I was courting—this seemed like the ideal scheme. Now that Chloe’s engaged to Donovan and you and I are acting like an established couple, the gossips are beginning to wonder if they had it wrong at the start. If Chloe and Donovan met and fell in love because you and I were already seeing each other, rather than the other way around.”

“I hope that’s what they believe, anyway,” Grace muttered, thinking that all this trouble would be wasted if they hadn’t fooled anyone.

“Several are already beginning to speculate in print that the natural confusion that results when two best friends date identical twins is what led to Chloe and Donovan being kidnapped. They believe Wallace Childers had them snatched because he thought I would pay any amount of money to ensure the safety of my best friend and my fiancée.”

“Which was pretty much what he was thinking. He underestimated you, of course, as well as Donovan. He didn’t realize that Donovan would escape so quickly with Chloe, or that you had so many resources at your fingertips to track down the identity of the kidnappers.”

“I learned a long time ago that having a lot of money means being targeted occasionally by people who want to help themselves to some of it. That’s why I’ve made security such a priority in my organization.”

“I’m well aware of that,” she muttered, thinking of the discreet, but ever-present bodyguards who had shadowed her so frequently during the past few weeks.

“Cheer up. The wedding’s only a month away. After that, we can cut back on the number of public appearances, and eventually stop them altogether. We’ll simply imply that we’ve drifted apart—though we will, of course, decide to remain friends, since we’ll be seeing each other often through Donovan and Chloe.”

“Once we’ve ended this ridiculous playacting, there’s no reason at all we shouldn’t be friendly with each other.”

“No reason at all,” he parroted gravely.

She’d amused him again. She supposed she should be used to it by now.

She pushed herself off the chair. “It’s getting late. We’d better get some sleep.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Following her lead, he removed his feet from the table and stood. He carried his empty glass to the wet bar, stopping to take hers on the way. “I’ll just put these in the sink….”

She had just reached her bedroom doorway when Bryan made an odd sound behind her. She glanced over her shoulder, then grimaced when she saw his expression. She knew immediately what must have happened. “You’ve stepped on a piece of glass, haven’t you?”

He lifted his right foot, leaving a smear of bright red on the cream-colored carpet. “I’m afraid so.”

Bryan half expected Grace to chew him out for being careless enough to step on a piece of glass. Instead she hurried toward him, a frown of concern on her face. “Let me see.”