stammering was another thing Zane never did with women, his doing so now unnerved him. Gwen appeared to be cool as a cucumber, and he felt like a tongue-tied boy. Unusual, damn unusual, he thought uneasily as he pulled away from the curb.
Of course, he hadn’t expected her to look like a fashion model, he thought in defense of his behavior. Her dress was really a stunning black suit with pale gray satin piping around lapels that were just far enough apart to permit a glimpse of cleavage, which was sexier to Zane than if her entire bosom was on display. Her hosiery was gray and her high-heeled pumps were black. Her hair had been piled on top of her head in a mass of curls, with floating tendrils around her face and nape that tormented Zane.
Gripping the steering wheel tightly, he tried to concentrate on driving instead of on the way Gwen looked. But inhaling the subtle scent of her perfume with every breath worked against him, and he kept stealing peeks at her.
Finally, he couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “You’re going to knock my family out,” he said. “My friends too.”
“That’s what you wanted to accomplish, wasn’t it? I mean, isn’t this entire charade aimed at impressing your family and friends?”
“True.” Zane laughed then, albeit weakly. “Guess I didn’t expect to be impressed myself.”
Uh-oh, Gwen thought warily. If she let herself, she could be very impressed by him. He looked fabulous in his dark suit and white shirt, and she would bet anything that the tie he was wearing had cost as much as her entire outfit—which she’d bought on mark-down.
But she had not dressed to impress him, she insisted to herself. She was only keeping up her side of their “business arrangement,” and she didn’t want to hear any more compliments from him while they were alone.
“Let’s keep this strictly impersonal,” she said coolly. “I have a few questions. Since you want your family to believe we’re a…couple, I should know a little more about you than I do. For instance, how do you take your coffee, and what’s your favorite drink as far as alcoholic beverages go?”
“I suppose you’re right, but remember that I should know more about you too. Coffee strong and black, and while I’m not much of a drinker, I prefer scotch. What about you?”
“Coffee with cream, no sweetener. Wine or champagne only. Are you a reader?”
“I run in spurts. I doubt if anyone’s going to ask you what book I might be in the middle of reading.”
“Probably not. I enjoy reading but have little time for it. Same with TV.” Gwen paused, then asked, “If someone asks me what I do, what would you like me to say?”
Zane sent her a frown. “Is there anything wrong with the truth?”
“Not to me there isn’t, but bathing dogs and running other people’s errands is hardly a glamorous job.”
“It’s an honest living. Just be yourself, Gwen, except for our supposed relationship. Now that subject might raise some questions. How we met, for example.”
“Well, if I’m going to be honest about my job, I might as well be honest about that, as well.”
“Might as well be,” Zane agreed, then chuckled. “It was pretty funny, wasn’t it? Your chasing Alamo through the house, both of you sopping wet?”
“Hilarious,” Gwen said wryly.
“Of course, you can’t say it happened only yesterday. I’d like everyone to think that we’ve been seeing each other for at least two weeks.”
“Fine,” Gwen snapped.
Zane sent her a look. “You don’t like lying, do you?”
“Never did, never will. But it’s what you’re paying me for, and I’ll do what I can to help you pull the wool over your relatives’ eyes.”
“When you put it that way, it seems pretty underhanded,” Zane muttered.
“It is underhanded.” Gwen sighed. “But it’s your family, and I’m just the hired help.”
That last remark hit Zane the wrong way, and he fell silent to stew privately. It was too late to wish he’d met Gwen under different circumstances and hadn’t instantly seen her as a replacement for Heather, but the thought was there, all the same. He didn’t like Gwen thinking of herself as the “hired help,” but what could he do about it now? They were almost to the ranch, and he knew they would be rushed by relatives the minute they arrived. Everyone would want to meet his lady friend; he and Gwen would instantly have to go into their act.
No, there was no turning back now. He was caught in a trap of his own making, and wishing that he’d never thought up this ridiculous scheme was an exercise in futility. He’d forever set the tone of any possible relationship with Gwen Hutton, and he would have to live with it.
Three
G wen had known she was in for a range of new experiences during this November weekend, but the armed guards at the entrance to the ranch took her completely by surprise.
Zane pulled to a stop and rolled down his window. “Hello, Dan,” he said, as one of the guards bent over and peered into the car.
“How are you, Zane?” Dan asked cordially.
“Just fine. Nice day for a wedding.”
“That it is.” Dan stood away from the car and motioned Zane on.
“What was that all about?” Gwen asked.
“They’re just making sure that everyone is an invited guest.” Zane paused, then added, “Dad has become very security conscious. It started after Matthew’s infant son was kidnapped.”
“I recall reading about that. The Fortune name is often in the newspapers.”
“It’s in the papers too damn often,” Zane said gruffly. “That’s another reason for those guards at the gate—to keep out the media.”
Gwen’s next surprise was the valet parking. Young men, smartly dressed in black trousers and red jackets, were parking the arriving guests’ vehicles in neat rows in a field of freshly mowed grass.
“Is that huge parking area the norm?”
Zane found himself pleased with Gwen’s curiosity. At the same time he hoped that the army of family and friends she would meet this weekend wouldn’t overwhelm her. Dressed as she was today she looked sophisticated and confident, but the Fortune family en masse could daunt the strongest spirit, and Zane suspected that Gwen had never attended an affair like this one promised to be. He suddenly felt very protective of her and swore that he would do his best to shield her from some of his nosier relatives.
“For special occasions, yes,” he said. He stopped the car at the Valet Parking sign. “We’ll get out here.”
At last Gwen could see the ranch compound, and she was mesmerized by the sight of Ryan Fortune’s sprawling mansion, the huge white wedding tents set on emerald-green grass, the number and variety of flowers that seemed to be everywhere and the mingling crowd of
