Rent A Millionaire Groom

“I guess his job is the reason you said he wouldn’t be marching down the aisle anytime soon.”

Elise nodded.

James knew most people would classify him in the same group. And they’d be right. Which explained why he’d questioned Elise’s motives early on. But somehow he just didn’t see deceit being her strong point.

“So, do you think Elise and I will be able to pull this thing off?”

He read the doubt on her friends’ faces.

“Well, you have three weeks,” Phoebe said. “And you’re an actor. But I don’t know about Elise.”

“Hey! I can pretend,” Elise protested.

Daisy chuckled. “You can’t even pay an insincere compliment, Elise. She blushes a bright red when she tries,” she added to James. “If we really want to know if we’ve bought something we shouldn’t have, we ask Elise.”

Elise scowled at Daisy, but James saw the concern in her gaze. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll teach you method acting. You’ll do fine.” He knew that much from Bobby.

Phoebe chuckled. “Is that your style of acting?”

James knew she understood what he meant, but Elise still didn’t have a clue. “It works best, especially for beginners.”

Their dinners arrived at that moment. The food was good, the conversation even better.

James decided he’d learned more about Elise than he would have on their own. In particular, he noted her friends’ remarks about her honesty.

Sylvia had been an expert liar.

Several hours later, the two friends excused themselves, both claiming chores that had to be done that evening before bedtime.

“I enjoyed meeting your friends, but they don’t seem practical types—especially Phoebe,” James said after they’d left.

“She’s very beautiful.”

“None of you are going to be used on wanted posters, sweetheart,” he said with a chuckle. “But she seems more the movie-star type. Like maybe she’s an actress, too.”

“She was at one time, but her heart wasn’t in it. She’s…got other plans now.”

“Interesting friends.”

Elise said thanks, but she looked away.

“Are you upset that we joined them?”

“No, of course not,” she hurriedly said, and smiled at him.

But it wasn’t her best smile.

“I figured once you met them, you’d want to get to know them better,” she said.

He stared at her. “Are you implying I’m more interested in them than I am in you?” He couldn’t believe she’d think that.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re pretending, remember? I need to excuse myself. I’ll be back in a minute.”

James stared after her, confused.

“YOU IDIOT!” Elise addressed herself in the mirror. “You’re the one who keeps forgetting. How could you let him know that you’re jealous.”

She powdered her nose and tried to get up the courage to return to the table. It had been an enlightening evening. For her. She’d discovered James had an infinite capacity for charm. And that she was way too interested in him.

What was she going to do now? Start over?

“Oh, yeah, I can see me telling James he won’t do.”

“I beg your pardon?” said a young woman who’d just come out of one of the stalls.

“Sorry, I was talking to myself.” She rushed from the ladies’ room, embarrassed by her foolishness.

No, she couldn’t back out now. Besides, James was perfect for the role. And she didn’t really have any interest in him. All the reasons for not choosing him for Daisy applied to Elise, too.

If she ever did consider marriage, it would be to a man who centered his world around her. Not the opposite. Actors were notoriously egotistical.

Which had been Richard’s strong suit, too.

She reached the table, but she didn’t bother to sit down. “Are you ready? I need to get home. I have some papers to grade.”

“Sure. But I’m waiting for George to bring back my credit card.”

Rather than just stand there like an idiot, she sat. “Okay.”

George instantly appeared, and James signed the ticket.

She popped up like a jack-in-the-box as soon as he finished writing.

“You are in a hurry, aren’t you,” he said, frowning.

“I have an early class tomorrow.” And a faulty resistance system for handsome men, apparently.

“Okay. So our next date—I mean, research meeting, should be Friday night, so you can sleep late the next morning.”

“But today is Wednesday. We don’t need to meet that often, do we?” she asked, hoping she was hiding her concern.

“Only if you want to convince your sisters. We still have a lot to learn about each other.”

She supposed that was true. It seemed to her he’d spent most of his time talking to her friends, so she didn’t think it was her fault they had to go out more often.

When they got in the car and he’d backed out into traffic, she said, “What’s your favorite color?”

He looked at her, surprise on his face. Then, with a smile, he said, “Green.”

She turned bright red since she was wearing green and he was staring at her sweater. “Oh. I didn’t know.”

“And yours?”

Her favorite color was green, too, but she didn’t want to say that now. He’d think she was just saying that to agree with him.

“Red,” she said firmly. “Red is my favorite color.”

“I’m not surprised. It matches your cheeks,” he pointed out, a grin on his lips.

She hoped he didn’t remember Daisy’s comment about her lies.

“Are you a morning person, or a night person?” she asked, hoping a change of subject would help her equilibrium.

“Do I have to be one or the other?”

That response startled her. “Isn’t everyone?”

“I guess I’m more night than morning, but I don’t like to sleep late. I don’t need a lot of sleep.”

“And I suppose you think people who do are lazy?”

He took his gaze off the road, frowning at her. “Are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

“No! I just— People who— Never mind.” She crossed her arms over her chest and said nothing more.

They finished the drive in silence. Fortunately it wasn’t a long drive.

After killing the motor, he partially turned toward her. “I take it you require a lot of sleep?”

“I need eight hours, like normal people.”

“That means you’re a night person, right? You stay up too late and then have trouble getting up. So we’ll tell your sisters our being together works well because I can get you out of bed in the mornings,” he said with a smile.

Elise stared at him in horror. “We’ll do nothing of the sort!”

“Why? Surely you don’t think they’ll believe we’re not sleeping with each other. We’re not exactly teenagers.”

“I suppose you think sex should be a part of dating?” She tried to keep her outrage under control.

“If there’s no sexual attraction, there won’t be an engagement. If they’re going to believe us, they have to think I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“I’m not sure you’re that good an actor,” she snapped.

His chuckle surprised her, and she glared at him.

“Sweetheart, that part doesn’t require any acting.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re a beautiful woman. I’m a man. We men are drawn to beautiful women. And you look damn good in jeans.”

“I don’t— They’re old.”

“And fit you like a glove. It was a pure pleasure to follow you around tonight.”

She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she knew she’d be so self-conscious when she got out of the car, she’d scarcely be able to walk.

“Is sex all you ever think about?” she asked, hoping to stop this conversation.

“Nope. But it’s nice to consider.”

“There are other things more important. Like…” She thought desperately. “Like, are you a Republican or a Democrat?”

“You choose your men based on their political preferences?” he asked, incredulity in his voice.

“No! But it’s something I should know.”

“Okay. I’m neither. I vote based upon the candidate, not the political party.” He smiled. “How about you?”

“Me? Uh, I’m—” What could she say? She did the same. “Me, too,” she mumbled.

“What a relief. We can check that one off the list. What else?”

“Why do I have to come up with all the questions? You should ask me about things that are important to you.” Anything to get herself off the hook. Because her mind was a blank.

“Okay. Do you want children?”

She almost choked. She wouldn’t have expected that question in a million years. “I said I wasn’t interested in marriage!”

“That wasn’t the question.”

“Yes, it is. Because, like Daisy, I wouldn’t choose to be a single parent. So that eliminates the prospect of children.” She tried to keep any sadness out of her voice. The past few years, when she played with her nieces and nephews, a longing she tried to keep buried rose in her. But she’d accepted that she would never hold her own child in her arms.

“But what if someone in your family asks us about our plans to have children?”

“Well, to appease them, just say we want children but we don’t know when or how many.”

“Why are you so against marriage? Didn’t your parents have a happy marriage?”

She definitely didn’t like this line of questioning. “Yes, they did. I want to know your shoe size.”

He blinked several times, drawing attention to his blue eyes. “My shoe size? Is there some psychological connection that I’m missing?”

She thought she’d pass out. Shoe size had been the first thing to come into her head, but women whispered about the shoe size being representative of the size of a certain other organ. Did James know that? She thought she’d die of embarrassment.

“I—I thought my sisters would expect me to know that.”

“Well, for your sisters’ edification, I wear a ten and a half. Oh, and I wear an extra-large shirt.”

It was her turn to stare at him. Why would she need to know that?

“In case you’re buying me a birthday present,” he added, with a cheeky grin. “Actually, I thought you’d ask the more important question.”

When he didn’t continue, she asked, “What question?”

“Boxers or briefs?”

Elise tried to keep her chin up, fighting the embarrassment filling her, but she knew her cheeks gave her away. “Well?”

“Briefs. And you? Do you wear a thong?”

She’d stepped right into that one. Without warning, she opened the car door and got out. Then she leaned back in. “Never!” was her terse reply.

But he had the last word. Before she could slam the door, she heard him say in that deep, silky voice, “Too bad.”

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