a man before I did anything else. It seemed to be the easiest and quickest way to solve the problem.”
“What about the photograph you showed me? Couldn’t you show it to the lawyer as proof that you’re a married woman?”
She shook her head. “I tried doing that this morning before I got here, but the lawyer wouldn’t buy it. He wants to meet my husband. And, now that he’s seen the photograph, I can’t ask anyone else to come with me. It has to be you.”
T.J. glanced at the empty lemonade bottle and wished it had been something stronger. “It’s a gamble, you know. The guy might be smarter than you think.”
“Maybe, but I figured I’d cover all my bases.” The corners of Emily’s proud eyes glinted with tears. “I’m sorry. But I’m already in so deep, I don’t think I have a choice. My husband has to be you.”
T.J. gave up. A promise made by his brother to a woman like Emily Holmes was a promise he somehow felt obligated to keep. She obviously was innocent and deserved better. He’d have to take one day at a time. “When do we start?”
To his dismay, a look of hope came over her face. “This afternoon, four o’clock at my aunt’s lawyer’s office.”
He stopped to consider his commitment. Was he biting off more than he could chew? “And how long do we have to keep up the masquerade?”
“As long as it takes to convince the man you’re my husband.” She paused and looked worried. “Just don’t forget to act as though we were recently married.”
T.J. digested her reply. He came up with an answer that, under different circumstances might have actually been inviting if it had been his idea. Newlyweds? A pretend marriage, with hugs and kisses? With a woman as beautiful and fascinating as Emily Holmes?
Under the present circumstances, the sound of the scenario began to trouble him.
Scenes of his early childhood flashed through his mind. Terrifying scenes of himself and his little brother, both too young to understand their father had abandoned them. Or to understand why their mother had decided she couldn’t cope alone and had taken him and his brother to the Foundation for Homeless Children before she left.
A product of a failed marriage, abandonment and a series of foster homes, he’d vowed he would remain single until he found the right woman. And then only after he could be certain their marriage would provide a decent and loving home for their children. A marriage that would last.
Certainly not a pretend marriage that would merely last for an afternoon. And all for a piece of real estate?
He gazed solemnly at the anxiety in Emily’s eyes as she waited for his answer. And the slight tightening in her lips, no matter how she tried to hide it. He couldn’t help but be moved. Maybe owning the piece of real estate was as important to her as his dreams of a perfect marriage and family were to him.
“Just what does this property consist of that you’re so set on acquiring?”
“An old wooden cottage,” she answered with a hopeful smile. “The last time I saw it the paint was peeling, there was a hole in the roof, and the lawn had become weeds and dandelions. It wasn’t anything like the cottage where I used to spend my summers as a little girl. It broke my heart. I suppose that’s one reason why I decided to sell after I inherit.”
“And the other reason?”
“The job that’s waiting for me up north.”
When the sparkle in Emily’s eyes dimmed, T.J.’s heart ached for her. No one’s dream should end with a dilapidated wooden cottage. If Emily had been his real wife, he would have restored it for her.
Restoring vintage buildings was more than a profession to him. He loved to recreate the hopes and dreams that had gone into their creation.
“I remember hiding behind the curtains of a window seat overlooking the canal and dreaming of seeing the real Venice someday,” she went on, the wistful smile back on her face. “And that’s what I intend to do now—see the real Venice.”
As she spoke, T.J. pictured a young Emily hiding behind curtains, dreaming innocent childhood dreams. He felt compassion for the child obviously still in her. And, for that matter, the child within him.
He had his own dreams, too. Dreams he couldn’t pursue. He had responsibilities to his invalid father, his brother, and the foundation that had brought them all together. Marriage and a family of his own had taken a back seat.
The irony of it all was he was about to pretend to be married to a woman he hadn’t set eyes on until an hour ago.
Gazing into Emily’s eyes, there was no longer any doubt he was doing the right thing in filling in for his brother. For a day. Further than that, he wasn’t prepared to go.
“Hey, boss,” a loud voice shouted. “What’s next, or are we through for the day?”
Startled out of his reverie, T.J. turned back. Clouds of dust covered the work site where a truck was delivering additional used bricks. Someone had turned on a CD player and strains of music filled the air. Several of the work men had disappeared from view. At this rate, it would be touch-and-go for the restoration project to come in on time. He’d been so engrossed in Emily’s story, he hadn’t noticed how much time had passed.
Wait until he got his hands on his brother!
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
