hair sparkled in the glare of the lights, giving her sophisticated beauty an ethereal glow. It was Tinker Bell with sex appeal.
“So what’s this about Trish needing a husband? I would think she’d be able to pick and choose. Wait a minute—she doesn’t need a husband because she is in the family way, so to speak? I’m not risking a paternity suit.”
“No, she is not in the family way, so to speak, and don’t look so panic-stricken. Besides, I didn’t say she needed a husband. I said she needed a fiancé.” Claire pursed her lips. “Listen, let’s skate down the middle of the ice toward the net at the other end. I want to get a shot of you head-on.” She started to skate backward, looking through the camera. “That’s it. Skate toward me. No, don’t look at me. Look over my shoulder, like you’re scoping out the defense. That’s it. That’s great.”
Jason timed his longer strides to her shorter ones. “So why does she need a fiancé?”
“She doesn’t need a fiancé exactly, more like a pretend fiancé. You see it’s like this—we have to go to this wedding of a former boyfriend of hers, and she doesn’t want him to know she’s unattached. It’s a pride thing.” She kept clicking the shutter. “That’s it. Breathe a little harder through your mouth.”
“Ah, the heavy-breathing thing again.” He puffed out dramatically. “And this ex-boyfriend is supposed to believe that Trish and I are passionately in love?”
“We’ll say you two met on this story and suddenly felt this overwhelming attraction. I mean, look at the two of you. Beauty and brawn.”
“I presume I’m the beauty.”
Claire rolled her eyes. “Glamorous careers. Jet-setting lifestyles. It’s perfect.”
“So do you need a fiancé, too?”
Claire kept her head behind the camera. “Nope. No problems with prior attachments.”
“Any plans for the future?”
“No, I’m a free agent, and I’m happy just the way I am.”
“But you’ll be there? At the wedding, I mean?”
“Of course. Who do you think the wedding photographer is?”
“I should have known. Have camera will travel. You know, I gotta warn you.” He sped up his skating.
“Not too close. I can’t focus that close with this lens.” It wasn’t just the lens that was having trouble, as his body space impinged on hers.
“I have to tell you something.”
“Tell me what?” Her back bumped into the crossbar of the net with a jolt. She would have dropped her camera if the strap hadn’t been around her neck.
“I tried to tell you.” Jason put his hand on her back and massaged the point where she had banged into the bar.
Claire tried not to think about the further pain he was causing.
“I’m beginning to think you need me more than you realize.” He slowly rubbed her shoulder blades.
Claire’s head shot up. “Just because I banged into the net doesn’t mean I need you. And you can stop rubbing now. I didn’t do that much damage.”
“Ah, you don’t know how much damage you’ve already done. In any case, there’s something else I need to tell you.”
“Something else?” She felt a strange letdown when Jason removed his hand.
“Yes, not only do you ride a motorcycle, you also skate backward. As it turns out, these are two of my requirements for a wife. And I must say, you pass with flying colors.”
“You’re joking, right?”
Jason grinned over his shoulder and started to glide away. “Oh, by the way. My keys?”
Claire swore under her breath. She fished into her jeans’ pocket and tossed them underhand. He caught them with an easy swipe and skated away, only to stop and return in a long slow arc.
“Yes?” She scowled as he slid in close. Again, too close.
He lifted one hand.
She watched his hand come close to her face. Then closer. “You want to tell me what’s going on here?”
With a gentle swipe of his index finger, Jason brushed the corner of her mouth. She flinched. Felt her lips tingle and her tongue turn dry. Gulping was impossible. Inhaling only slightly more doable. He had to know how awkward she was feeling.
Jason smiled broadly. He knew. “Powdered sugar.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “Powdered sugar?”
Jason brought his index finger to his mouth and slowly tasted it. “Yup, definitely powdered sugar. Must have been that donut you were eating when I first rolled up.” He looked down, one eyebrow slightly cocked.
The photographer in Claire leapt to take the pose.
The woman in her was paralyzed.
“And by the way, Claire Marsden,” Jason said lazily over his shoulder as he skated off for a second time. “That was no joke.”
Claire slowly brought her hand to her face and touched the corner of her open mouth. Her skin was hot, incredibly hot. She couldn’t possibly be blushing. She never blushed. But then she’d never been touched by a demon on skates, either.
3
CLAIRE PACED in front of Trish. “You let me go through that whole shoot with powdered sugar on my face!”
“You told him I needed a fiancé?” Trish responded. She darted her head around to see if they were being overheard. She had all the subtlety of a silent film star. The closest person was Elaine. She was over by the bench, talking with the straggly bearded techie. He somehow didn’t seem her type. “Jason probably thinks I’m pathetic.”
“Trust me. He doesn’t think you’re pathetic.” Claire remembered the appreciative look Jason had shown Trish as they got off the ice. Trish, who was looking so together, so sleek. While she, Claire, had a drippy nose and freezing, cramped toes. Sniffling and hobbling—she sounded like two of the Seven Dwarfs. And that’s when she remembered she still had on the skates.
She sat and began yanking them off. “I don’t know why you think anyone would think you’re pathetic. You weren’t the one tripping over her own two feet on the ice, all the while having this white glob on your face. Why didn’t you tell me?” Claire yanked off the second skate and looked around for her boots.
Trish crossed her arms. “Why so touchy about a little bit of sugar on your face? Frankly, I didn’t even notice.”
Claire found one work boot and pulled it on. She didn’t bother to lace it up. “That’s because your eyes were elsewhere.” Claire got on her hands and knees and started scouting under the bench for her other
