was my fault. I’d mentioned you earlier, and he misunderstood. I should have corrected his assumption.”
“Nah. It’ll be more fun this way. I’d rather mess with his head. He spent most of our teenage years messing with mine.”
“He did?” She was intrigued.
“We were both rich young men with fast cars, who could tip our way into the best nightclubs, but he was better looking.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your looks.”
Tuck had heavier features than Shane, a slightly crooked smile and a scar on his chin. But he was still a handsome man.
He chuckled. “I wasn’t fishing. Every time I found a new girl, Shane would flirt with her.”
“That’s not nice.”
“He grew out of it. And, I figured out he was testing them, checking to see if they truly liked me or if they’d go with any rich guy.”
“Did they all pick Shane?” She felt a rush of sympathy for Tuck.
“All except Roberta Wilson back in high school. She didn’t give him a second look.”
“And?” Darci prompted.
“And I dated her for six months in senior year.” He shrugged. “And then it ended. She went off to a different college. Our whole carefree lifestyle ended abruptly when Shane lost his parents.”
Darci was reminded that Shane hadn’t always had things easy.
They danced in silence.
“It sounds like Shane is protective,” said Darci, wondering how far he’d go to defend his father’s honor.
“And loyal,” said Tuck, then he glanced over her shoulder in Shane’s direction. “So tell me about Darci Lake. I have a feeling I’ll get quizzed after you leave.”
Darci wasn’t crazy about perpetuating a ruse with Tuck, since he was an innocent bystander. Then again, what were a few more lies? She was already in deep, and it looked as if it was going to get much deeper before it was all over.
“What do you want to know?” she asked.
“Where are you from? What do you do?”
“I grew up in Chicago, went to Columbia.”
“Nice.”
“I have a graphic-art business. We mostly design websites.”
“That’s a growth industry,” said Tuck.
“So far, business is good.” In fact, it was so good, between working at Colborn Aerospace during the day and trying to keep up with her website contracts at night, she was barely getting any sleep.
“I might want to hire you.”
“I’ve got a waiting list right now.” She could fit in another client, but she was staying well away from Shane’s friends. “Tell me something more about you.”
“Good idea. Shane will probably quiz you, too.”
Darci doubted it. Once again, she mentally berated herself for having let the opportunity to come back to the mansion slip past.
“I’m the second son of Jamison Tucker, who was the only child of Randal Tucker, founder of Tucker Transportation. I’m a vice president. My older brother Dixon is the president-in-waiting.”
“Does that bother you?” Darci couldn’t help but ask.
“That he’ll be top dog and not me? Nah. More time for me to goof off.”
“Because being second in command is such an easy job?”
“It is if you—”
“You’re done.” Shane reappeared, scowling at Tuck.
“Looks like I’m done,” Tuck agreed, letting her go. “Thank you for the dance, Darci.”
“Thank you,” she replied, surprised that Shane had come back to her.
He pulled her rather forcefully into his arms.
She immediately felt the difference in his posture. He was stiff, his movements jerky.
“Was that fun?” he asked her in a tight voice.
“It was fine.” She struggled to find the rhythm.
“You like Tuck?”
“Tuck’s perfectly nice.”
“Nice?”
“Nice.” The circumstances suddenly struck her as ridiculous, and she fought a grin. “Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Acting like I betrayed you by dancing with Tuck. You can’t lay claim to every woman you’ve known for two hours.”
“Three hours.”
“I stand corrected.”
He went silent, but his movements gradually smoothed out and his shoulders seemed to relax. As the minutes ticked by, he drew her nearer, once again bringing his cheek to rest against her hair.
“Friday night?” he asked.
She saw no benefit in being coy. “On your deck? With another fine bottle of wine?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then okay. It’s a date.”
His tone was a deep, sexy rumble. “It’s a date.”
She swallowed. Her stomach flip-flopped with trepidation, but she knew she had to see this through.
* * *
“Run that past me one more time,” said Jennifer.
“It’s the best, probably the only way to get back into his house,” said Darci from the third rung of the stepladder, as she tapped a picture hook into the wall. She had no intention of repeating the details of her dance with Shane.
“So, you’re dating Shane Colborn.”
“I’m pretending to date him.”
“But, he won’t know you’re pretending.”
The hook seemed solid, so Darci went backward down the ladder. “That would be the entire point of pretending. You think the orchids on this wall or the sky scape?”
“The orchids. But you’re attracted to him?”
Darci moved to the breakfast bar to retrieve a measuring tape and level. The
