working on herself. It was no small task to turn herself into a lady of some leisure. While she filed and polished her short fingernails, and gave herself a pedicure, she worried about whether she would be able to fool anyone into thinking that a man like Zane Fortune would find a woman like her attractive. And if she were to believe Zane’s story to the letter, she was going to be under a lot of scrutiny. From people who were millionaires, yet! Probably not one woman she would meet at that wedding had ever done her own fingernails or given herself a pedicure.
But all that aside, Gwen’s biggest worry was Zane himself. He was too good-looking, too rich, too sure of himself. She’d never met anyone even remotely similar before, and there was some part of her that was uncomfortably drawn to the glamorous appeal Zane exuded. Gwen was positive that her pragmatic side would never let her actually fall in love with anyone like Zane Fortune, but was it strong enough to prevent her from developing a silly, futile schoolgirl crush on the man?
She couldn’t deny the possibility, and it bothered her so much that she dialed Ramona’s phone number. “How are the kids doing?”
“You should be getting ready instead of worrying.”
“I am getting ready, but I just realized something. Last night I talked about morality versus money and that wasn’t what was eating at me at all. I—I’m afraid of Zane Fortune.”
“Oh, God, there’s something you didn’t tell me. Do you think he’s a pervert, or something?”
“Ramona, no!” Gwen was appalled that she’d given her friend such a horribly false impression. “The truth, Ramona, is that I’m going to be spending two days with the most incredible man I’ve ever met, and what if I…well, end up liking him?”
“Well, think about this,” Ramona said wryly, “What if he ends up liking you?”
“Oh, he wouldn’t! I mean, how could he?”
“For heaven’s sake, Gwen, are you deliberately looking for a reason to drive yourself crazy? In the first place you might not like him at all. In the second, why are you so positive that he could never like you?”
“I just know it. Compare his life-style to mine and you’ll know it too.”
“Because he’s rich and you’re not? So what? Gwen, I think that what you’re really afraid of is meeting his wealthy family and friends. You’re as good as any of them, and don’t you dare act like you’re not.”
“What if I can’t pull it off?”
“Good grief, you’re the most creative person I know. Create a persona for yourself that will knock everyone’s socks off, Zane Fortune’s included.”
Gwen glanced at the two dresses hanging on the closet door that she’d thought would be best for the charade Zane had hired her for; she hadn’t yet decided which one to wear for the wedding today. Although they were both pretty dresses, neither of them would knock anyone’s socks off.
But she had one in her closet that just might do that. “Create a persona for myself, hmm?” she murmured, more to herself than to Ramona.
“And make it a noticeable one. Now hang up and get to it. I’ll be on pins and needles till you get back tomorrow, and you’d better have some darn good stories to tell me.”
“’Bye, Ramona,” Gwen said absentmindedly, and put down the phone. Hurrying to the closet she took out a plastic bag, then removed the bag and studied the dress it had protected for well over a year. She was pleased to smell no mustiness but rather the faint scent of her favorite perfume; she had dropped several sachets of the fragrance into the bag when she’d put the dress away. Next she reached to the top shelf of the closet for a shoe box, and in it were the stunning high heels that went with the dress.
“You want to impress your family, Mr. Fortune?” she said under her breath. “Fine, we’ll impress your family.”
Zane had instructed Gwen to dress for the wedding ceremony and reception afterward, because he would be picking her up just early enough to allow for the drive to the ranch. “Bring an overnight case with whatever else you think you might need. Along with Saturday’s big event, there’s going to be a Sunday morning brunch. It will be casual, so slacks or even jeans will do for that.”
She realized it hadn’t even occurred to him that she might not have appropriate clothes for a formal wedding—which didn’t surprise her considering how he lived. He was in for at least one surprise.
When she was finally made up, coiffed and dressed, she stared at her own reflection with a feeling of wonder. Was that woman in the mirror really her? It had been so long since she’d worn anything but jeans, shorts and old tops, and just as long since she’d put on makeup and spent time on her hair, that she could hardly believe her own eyes.
Charged up over looking so good, Gwen finished packing her overnight case, and was ready and waiting when her front doorbell chimed. She was carrying her handbag and the small suitcase when she opened the door.
“Hello,” she said, and then watched a wash of confusion erase his smile.
“You…you’re gorgeous!” he blurted, alerting Gwen to the fact that he hadn’t expected her to look as she did.
She smiled. “Save the flattery for later, when we have an audience,” she said pertly, and pulled the door closed behind her. Brushing past him, she started down the front steps.
Zane wondered about his almost stupefied reaction to Gwen’s appearance. He never had trouble talking to women, and compliments had always rolled off his tongue smooth as silk. Blurting was not his style, and yet he had definitely blurted when Gwen opened her door. In fact, he was still amazed at her astonishing transformation from the soggy but pretty woman in his mind to this glamorous creature.
Regaining his wits, he hurried to catch up with Gwen and take the overnight bag from her hand. “I’ll put this in the trunk.”
“Thank you.”
He opened the passenger door of his luxury car and she got in. Because her skirt was split, he caught a glimpse of a long, sensually shaped thigh as she brought her legs around, and a jolting awareness of Gwen Hutton as a highly desirable woman suddenly buffeted Zane. Frowning, he rounded the back of the car, paused to put her bag in the trunk, then continued to the driver’s side.
After starting the engine, he looked her way and gave her another amazed once-over. When she turned her head and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, he stammered, “Guess I’m staring, huh?”
“I’d say so,” Gwen said dryly.
Since 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
