Bachelor-Auction Bridegroom

What troubled him was that he’d always been an either/or type of guy, with no gray in between. “The truth and nothing but the truth” had always been his motto. Yet here he was, trading his convictions for the look in a pair of innocent hazel eyes.

He felt like a fraud for letting Emily believe he was Tim. Thinking of what might happen to Emily if he didn’t go along with her, he couldn’t help himself. “I’ll put the men back to work and see you back at the hotel. By the way, you don’t happen to have the address of the Venice property on you, do you?”

She rummaged in her purse and handed him a slip of paper. “I was hoping you’d ask. See you around three-thirty? You won’t forget, will you?”

As soon as Emily was out of earshot, T.J. called to his foreman. “Take over for me this afternoon, Duke. I’ve got an important appointment.”

Duke pointedly glanced over T.J.’s shoulder. “With the babe?”

“With the lady!” T.J. corrected him sharply. His gut instinct told him Emily Holmes was every inch a lady, no matter how she was dressed. Or what kind of outlandish ideas she came up with.

Troubled, T.J. watched Emily disappear around the corner. The hope in her voice and the appeal in her unforgettable eyes stirred unwelcome emotions in him. Emotions he had no time for. He had to remember this was a game and only a game.

Chapter Three

It took T.J. twenty minutes to reach the address in Venice. And twenty seconds to realize Emily had inherited a treasure. A gem, a jewel of Depression architecture and surely of historical value.

To add to the ambience of the setting, salty air blew in from of the Pacific Ocean, no more than a block away. Newly reworked canals ran in front of the property and new condominiums filled the once-empty lots.

A restorer of vintage buildings, T.J. recognized a one-of-a-kind survivor of the Depression era in the cottage on the property Emily had described. Built of wood, genuine lathe and plaster with beveled glass windows, the weathered white cottage fronted the canal where bridges crossed over to the other side. A new condominium complex filled the lot next door.

The land on which the cottage sat was surely worth a small fortune, he mused as he paced the walk in front of the cottage. Gazing at the weathered frame dwelling and picturing the interior treasures that must surely be inside, his mind rebelled at the thought the cottage would be razed once Emily sold it.

There had to be an alternative. He could offer to buy the cottage in order to save it. Before he did, should he tell her up front how valuable he thought the property was? Was thinking of buying it from her even ethical?

For that matter, was it ethical to masquerade as Emily’s husband and go along with her fantasy for insuring her inheritance?

Thought after troubled thought tumbled through T.J.’s mind. He respected Emily’s desire to live out her dream, but at one time, the cottage had been someone’s dream, too. There had to be some way to satisfy Emily and save the cottage at the same time.

He sighed, glanced at his watch and went to his car. He still had to clean up and meet Emily at the hotel. Without time to make plans or to investigate the lawyer’s honesty, he had to go along with Emily for now. But he had bigger ideas if her plan failed.

He called her from the hotel’s front desk. While he was waiting, he strolled over to check out “The World of Posters,” a sampling of the early motion picture movie posters to be auctioned off by Sotheby’s. He studied the Adventures of Robin Hood poster, circa 1938. Price: $12,000 to $18,000. A 1940 Pinocchio poster priced at $5,000 to $8,000. A Wizard of Oz poster offered at a starting bid of $9,000 to $12,000.

A discreet notice mentioned the rare posters would be put up for sale at Sotheby’s auction gallery next week.

He’d spent hours in old movie houses researching early architecture and interiors for authenticity in his restoration business. His interest had soon turned into a genuine respect for the dreams of yesterday, of which the posters were prime examples. What he was admiring was, in his mind at least, priceless.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” Emily’s wistful voice sounded behind him. “I’d love to be able to buy the Wizard of Oz poster. Maybe because of Dorothy’s Auntie Em. She reminded me of my own Aunt Emily.”

“I was more sympathetic to the Straw Man wishing he had a brain,” T.J. laughed. “When I was a kid, I used to think I was missing a brain, too. Especially when my grades weren’t as good as Dad thought they ought to be.”

Emily smiled. “Maybe I’ll be able to buy a poster like this after I sell my inheritance.”

“Let me buy the property from you,” T.J. offered impulsively. “You can get started making some of your dreams come true.”

She looked up in surprise. “That’s considerate of you, but I’m afraid the cottage is very old. It can’t be worth much.”

“It is to me,” T.J. said, attempting to visualize the interior of the cottage. “I’m in the building restoration business, remember? Finding a building like that cottage is like finding a treasure.” When she looked surprised, he added, “I drove by to take a look at it on my way over here.”

“Then you know what condition it’s in. It would take a lot of money to fix it up. Maybe it should come down.”

Telling Emily about his suspicion the property was more valuable than she realized might be premature, he thought uneasily. His conscience prodded him to at least tell her part of the truth. “Maybe you’ll want to have the cottage restored yourself. I’ll be happy to help.”

“Thank you, no. I’m not going to live there,” she replied. “Selling the property is the only way I can turn some of my childhood dreams into reality.”

“Speaking of reality,” he said soberly, “maybe we ought to check out the marriage clause in your aunt’s will before we see the lawyer? I’m not sure, but I can’t believe it’s legal.”

“You may be right.” Emily led the way out of the hotel lobby into the crowded street. “But I’m in so deep with the lawyer now, I’ll have to go through with the marriage bit first.”

T.J.’s convictions warred with his desire to help her. He and his brother might look alike, but he was older by five years. Surely the difference showed in a photograph. “I think I ought to tell you I don’t think the lawyer will believe I’m the man in the photograph.”

“Don’t even think about it!” Emily stopped short and turned around to confront him.

Caught by surprise, T.J. plowed into Emily and rocked her on her feet. Instinctively, his arms went around her to help her regain her balance.

To his satisfaction, she felt soft where a woman should be soft, and she smelled like summer flowers. Her auburn hair smelled of scented soap and an essence of peppermint clung to her. Her lips parted in a gasp of surprise.

He couldn’t help himself. Before he could stop to think, he instinctively bent to take those lips with his. Instead of pushing away, she unexpectedly closed her eyes, put her arms around his neck and leaned into his kiss.

That was the signal T.J. was waiting for. He pressed her lips apart and sought a haven for his tongue in her minty-scented mouth. When she responded with a soft moan, he probed gently, questioningly. In response, her tongue dueled with his.

His knees felt weak. Time stood still. His resolve to keep his distance from Emily began to fade. He forgot he was her temporary husband and that she was just passing through his life. He told himself he was just giving in to an impulse. An impulse that had been born the moment his startled gaze had connected with her warm hazel eyes.

Emily responded to T.J.’s kisses with a mind at war with her body. She was no stranger to kisses, after all, she’d been engaged. But this kiss, this man, were different from the embraces she’s shared with her ex-fiancé.

Where Sean’s kisses had been demanding, this man’s kiss was warm and tender and invited her response. Where Sean’s embraces had been quick and self-serving, this man’s embrace invited her to linger. When his hands ran over her back and pressed her close to him, she forgot her ex-fiancé and the errand that had brought her here.

Until the doorman coughed.

Startled, she saw they were surrounded by amused spectators. A few clapped. A passing motorist sounded his horn.

Emily tried to pull away. How could she have been so stupid? After Sean had jilted her for another woman, she’d sworn off becoming involved with a man, any man, hadn’t she? And yet here she was trading kisses with a man she’d met only yesterday. And wouldn’t see again after today.

“T.J., we have to stop,” she whispered into his lips. “We’re making a spectacle out of ourselves.”

The doorman coughed again. This time he got T.J.’s attention.

What was he doing kissing Emily like this anyway? T.J. wondered as he opened his arms and let Emily go. She was a stranger, after all. An unknown quantity. A woman he would never have met if it hadn’t been for Tim and his crazy matchmaking ideas.

“What did you think you were doing?” Emily sputtered. “We don’t even know each other!”

“I guess I was practicing,” he answered for want of a sensible explanation. How could he explain his unexplainable desire to take her in his arms the moment he laid eyes on her? “You did mention hugs and kisses.”

“Not in public and not in broad daylight, for heaven’s sake!” She looked appalled and cuter than ever.

Better than in private and in the dark, T.J. thought as he regarded well-kissed rosy lips and sparkling hazel eyes that revealed so much. Given the right setting, he knew damn well he wouldn’t have been able to stop with mere hugs and kisses. Not when Emily had been an eager partner.

Emily averted her eyes and forced her heart to return to a normal beat. She’d told him of her dream of visiting Italy, but she hadn’t spoken of another dream she’d nurtured until Sean had jilted her. A dream of home, hearth, and a lifetime of happiness with a man she loved, and who loved her. A man like T.J.?