Gunning for the Groom (4 page)

“You don't have much faith in me, do you?”

“It's not that.” She twisted more, her knee bumping his. “We're walking into a security company. They're going to find out we were on the same plane, that we sat together.”

“That won't be a problem,” he said. The problem would be keeping his hands to himself if he didn't find some distance.

“It's too coincidental. We should go on the offensive.”

He had a sudden image of Frankie charging ahead, leading a strike team, heedless of the American military rules about women in combat. “Dare I ask what you have in mind?”

She gave him a smile and it stunned him. No falsehood in this smile, no tension, just pure excitement. The expression lit her eyes and brought a hint of color to her cheeks. For a moment he was lost to anything but the gorgeous view.

“Rather than wait for them to confront us,” she was saying, “why don't we just go in together?”

“We are going in together.” Sitting together on the plane didn't have to be a big deal. For the case.

“No, together like a
couple
,” she said, her dark eyes sparkling. “Let's tell Sophia we're engaged.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded, while she hurried to explain.

“Hear me out. My mom's a big romantic. Always has been.” Frankie's smile evaporated. “One more reason it baffles me that she tossed her soul mate under the bus,” she added in a low voice. “If we show up and tell her we're engaged, we effectively distract her.”

This was a bad idea. Horrible. “I don't—”

“I've thought it through,” Frankie promised, cutting him off. “We'll tell her you applied to the company and when you got the interview on your own merit we decided to come out and surprise her with the whole truth. She'll eat it up.”

“She'll see right through it,” he argued.

“Not a chance. We'll tell her it's been a long-distance thing and we can't stand living apart anymore. This is perfect, trust me.” Frankie nearly bounced in her seat.

His stomach pitched and rolled as if they were going through severe turbulence. “What about the living arrangements?”

“What about them? Being engaged gives us the perfect reason to talk to each other anytime we want through the workday or in the evenings. We won't need any excuses. It's a stronger plan all around.”

It didn't feel that way to him. He had to convince her to drop it. “The plan was a hotel room for me and you in the house with your mom.”

“Yeah...” Frankie shook her head, and the sable waves of her hair rippled. “No matter what we decide about this, I won't stay with her.”

“It gives you tremendous access.”

“Access or not, I can't do it.” She tucked her hands between her thighs as if she were suddenly cold. “I've lived on my own too long. We'd be snapping at each other before I found out anything useful.”

“We need to stick with the plan and cover Victoria arranged,” he said, willing her to be reasonable. He couldn't be engaged. Not even for a case. “This kind of change should be approved.” There, he'd found a point she couldn't argue with.

“What does it matter, if we get the job done?” Frankie countered. “This tactic simplifies everything.”

Maybe for her. His fingers cramped into a fist, digging into his palm. This couldn't be happening. He wouldn't give in.

“Arriving engaged is the best answer,” she said, patting his knee as if the topic was settled.

“No,” he murmured, glancing around for anyone who might've caught their conversation. “I won't alter the op without approval.”

She snorted. “Please. Victoria knows things change and investigators have to think on their feet. Let's make the most of it.”

He shook his head and looked past her to the sky flying by the window. This was ridiculous.

“Is it such an impossible task to pretend to like me when we're in public?”

“Of course not,” he replied. He was afraid how easy it would be to treat her as a fiancée. “It changes the dynamic. Significantly. Lying as part of a cover is one thing. Lying to each other is another.”

“What do you mean?” Her dark eyebrows dipped into another sharp frown. “We'll be lying to the suspect, not to each other.”

“Only in public,” he said with a hefty dose of sarcasm. He hadn't missed how she'd termed her mother as a suspect. “Being engaged typically means affectionate displays and exhibiting a sense of closeness and trust.” He leaned closer and she leaned away, proving his point.

“Are you afraid I'm going to forget it's for show and fall in love with you?” She rolled her eyes. “Please. I'm not prowling for a relationship, Aidan. Let's agree to do whatever it takes to get the job done efficiently.”

He eased back into his seat, letting her believe she'd put him in his place. “Let me think it over.” He flipped open his tablet and continued his study of the Leone family background.

“Just decide before we land,” she whispered.

He didn't reply. Her need for control was likely a combination of her upbringing, her natural fiery personality and the career-ending injury. He couldn't blame her for that. He did, however, want to look at her “proposal” from all angles, especially from her mother's point of view.

He wasn't worried about his family finding out. In Ireland, they were all well away from any gossip, and the agency should be intercepting any queries. No, he was more concerned about how he'd feel playing Frankie's groom-to-be, even if only for a few days. He prided himself on being able to roll with the unexpected elements of his work. Surely there was a way to talk her out of this.

Eventually, he closed his tablet and reached over to take her hand.

“What are you doing?” She tugged, but he held on.

“Holding my fiancée's hand.” This would be his ticket back to the sane side of this case.

“Oh.” Her fingers relaxed a fraction. “You agree then that this is the best avenue to take?”

“I'm weighing the pros and cons.”

Her brown eyes narrowed and her intelligent gaze turned suspicious. “I outlined the only pros that matter.”

“To you.”

“Aidan.” She jerked her hand free of his. “What are you thinking?”

He grinned at the wariness in her eyes. She couldn't possibly want to play this out, not the way they needed to, to make it convincing. “I really don't think the fake engagement is the best way to go.”

“Why not?” Lacing her fingers together, she balanced her hands on her slim thigh. Her brown eyes lit with a challenge and her foot began to tap. “Afraid you're not up to it?”

On the contrary.
Faking an intimacy would be too easy with Frankie. His attraction for her was already cranked up and getting hotter by the minute. In other circumstances, with the slightest encouragement from her, he'd have made his move. When she gazed up at him, he could see flecks of gold in her brown eyes. He forced himself to take a mental step back rather than lean across the arm of the seat and crowd her personal space. “You're an only child, right?”

She nodded.

“If you show up on your mom's doorstep with a fiancé in tow, she's going to go ballistic with excitement.”

“That's the
point
.” Frankie waved off the idea that it was a bad thing. “I haven't spoken a word to her in months. The engagement diverts her suspicion about showing up now. What do you care if she gushes over you? It's a week, tops. More likely she'll be walking on eggshells, afraid to intrude in my personal life.”

He wasn't nearly so sure. Sophia Leone didn't strike him as the selfish, remorseless woman Frankie thought she was. “I believe you're underestimating her,” he pressed. Specifically, Sophia's love for and commitment to her only child. “Our original story is strong enough without the complication of a false engagement.”

“Is there someone else?” Frankie demanded suddenly. “A girlfriend or wife who'd be offended by our plan?”

“Your plan,” he corrected. “And no.”

“Then discussion over.”

“Not so fast.” Leaning close, he caught that sweet scent of cloves and spices in her hair. “Are you prepared to play the part...
completely
?”

He watched her, relentlessly quelling his grin as her eyes went wide when his full meaning registered. It was gratifying to realize she wasn't immune to this electricity humming between them. He pulled himself together. The last thing he needed was to play with fire on a case Victoria had a personal interest in. He had to show Frankie this ploy was a mistake.

She moistened her lips. “Are you prepared?”

“Of course,” he replied automatically. “I always go the distance in my investigations.”

“And in other areas?”

“Are you flirting with me?”

She batted her eyes in an exaggerated move that made him laugh, until she closed the distance and pressed her lips to his. Warmth spread from that point of contact down his arms, sizzling in his fingertips. She pushed her hand into his hair and drew him closer for a full, sensual kiss that blasted through him like a flash grenade.

She was like a double shot of whiskey with a drop of honey—all fire with a hint of sweetness. He changed the angle, tipping up her chin and taking control of the kiss. When her lips parted on a sigh, he slid his tongue across hers with bold strokes.

Belatedly he remembered the plane full of people and eased away. Her eyes were dazed, a mirror of his own, he was sure. “I think that will convince anyone.” It sure as hell convinced him.

He prayed it would be enough to put an end to her irrational engagement idea.

Chapter Five

Frankie reached for the magazine, though she'd read it cover to cover already. It annoyed her no end that her hands shook. She could still taste the cola Aidan had chosen during the beverage service. The hint of crisp pine in his cologne tickled her nose and made her think of the rocky coast near Puget Sound.

Maybe he was right and pretending an engagement was the wrong move.

If that shocking kiss was any indication—even though she had started it—she'd have to be very careful. If they had to do much of that, it would be all too easy to believe the charade intended to knock down her mother's defenses.

Thoughts of her mom killed the lingering sizzle from the kiss. Sophia had boasted about keeping that spark of love and romance alive through thirty years of marriage. Obviously that had been one more lie on top of the heap. Her statement, all but convicting her husband, left no room for anything but the clear conclusion: Sophia's career had trumped love in the end. She must have turned against her husband to avoid the demolition of her career by association. How would her security business have succeeded if shadowed by General Leone's treason?

Distracting her mother was worth any personal discomfort to Frankie. The announcement that she and Aidan were engaged would give them a brief advantage, and Frankie planned to make the most of it.

She pressed her lips together, telling herself it was silly the way her heartbeat skipped when he touched her. It was true he could be her fantasy man come to life with his dark looks, quick smile and vivid blue eyes. And the accent? Dear God. Too bad this was absolutely the wrong time in her life. She had to find a way to deal with it if they were going to convince Sophia they were engaged.

Frankie had to remember her purpose, stay focused and keep the sexy man beside her at arm's length when they were alone. Hopefully it wasn't obvious to Aidan that the kiss had such a lasting effect on her.

Apparently, he'd finished protesting the change in their cover story. When they landed at the Sea-Tac Airport, he held her hand on the way to baggage claim and through the rental car line. Once they were on their way, even the new-car smell wasn't enough to distract her from Aidan's crisp, masculine scent. It seemed that one kiss had her locked in on him. She had to shake off this persistent feminine awareness of him. She couldn't allow anything to splinter her focus.

Knowing the city better than he did, she had offered to drive. Seattle was always bustling, and for the first time she was grateful for the snarl of traffic. It gave her more time to consider her approach. She tapped her fingers against the steering wheel while her mind surged into overdrive. She found her eagerness for the confrontation with her mother had faded, knowing she'd have a witness as cool and calm as Aidan.

“What about the ring?”

His question cut into her thoughts and she struggled to find the context. “Ring?” Frankie glanced at him. “What are you talking about?”

“If we're engaged, you should have a ring.”

“That doesn't matter. Lots of engaged women go without a ring.” She couldn't think of an example right now, but it had to be true. No way would she let him put a ring on her finger. “My mom's a romantic. She'll believe us if we tell her we were planning to shop for a ring together.”

“I don't know.”

“Trust me.”

Aidan turned a bit in the seat, facing her. “I don't know you well enough to trust you.”

That stung a little. “You have my file and we can cover the basics tonight,” she protested. Why couldn't that be enough? She didn't need him cluttering the plan. “Just gloss over the details, get mushy once in a while when she's watching, and it will work out. We aren't going to be here that long.”

“Uh-huh.” His gaze returned to the congested roadway. “Why would I propose without a ring? I don't think that's something you'd tolerate.”

“You just said you didn't know me.”

“I said I didn't trust you. As for knowing you, I'm a quick study,” he stated.

“Are you messing with me?” The freeway was at a full stop, so she gave him a long, hard look. The grin creased his face, ornery as hell and way too sexy.
Eyes on the road
, she ordered herself. “I don't wear jewelry.”

“You're wearing earrings.”

She thought of the small diamond studs in her ears. They'd been a gift from her father on her sixteenth birthday. She touched her ear with a fingertip, giving the simple, timeless setting a twirl. “These hardly count. I wore them to remind my navy buddies I was a girl.”

“I have a hard time believing they'd forget that detail.”

Frankie ignored what sounded like a compliment, her mind returning to the bigger problem of how best to greet her mom tomorrow.

Smiling would be the toughest part of this farce. Frankie had to find a way. A happy smile and sticking close enough to the truth that her mother wouldn't pinpoint the lies right away was the key to operational success. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. It hadn't been so long ago that the keys to a successful operation were preparation, attitude and the right equipment.

“We need to stop at a mall or something,” Aidan said.

Frankie knew she needed better wardrobe options, but shopping was the last thing she wanted to add to their task list. “What did you forget?”

“Not for me, for your mom. It's rude to show up on someone's doorstep empty-handed,” he said. “As your fiancé I should bring flowers to the first meeting.”

She sighed, frustrated with his sudden commitment to her idea. “You're overthinking it.” One of them had to keep this charade under control. “We'll grab a bouquet from a grocery store in the morning.”

“I know you're angry with her, but I have standards. Flowers are friendly, polite and thoughtful.”

“You didn't toss out this many objections on the plane,” she said.

“I was processing the idea and we were in public.”

“Right.” She wasn't falling for that line. “You're an investigator. You process in real time.”

“Not always. Indulge me and stop at the mall. I only need fifteen minutes.”

“She doesn't need mall flowers.”

“A future son-in-law showing up with cheap flowers is worse than no flowers. I can make you stop.”

Frankie would like to see him try. “Would you just drop this, please?”

“No. This was your idea,” he said. “Unless you'd rather go back to the original plan?”

“No.” Catching on, she bit back the rant. She recognized a test when it smacked her in the face. Aidan had agreed to play this her way, and she wasn't letting him off the hook just because he was trying to annoy her. “We'll stop at the mall.”

“I've found a couple of florists close to your house.”

“Sophia's house,” she corrected. The last family home Frankie knew had been the general's residence on the post. Sophia had moved quickly after the funeral to the more fashionable Queen Anne neighborhood. “I was an army brat. We moved to a new post every few years. And we're off topic again,” she said through gritted teeth. “I'm at home in Savannah now.” Sophia's address had stopped feeling like home when her father died.

Aidan mentioned two addresses and names of florist shops. “Which one is better?”

“I have no idea,” Frankie said. “Just pick one.”

He did and his phone started rattling off the directions for the altered route.

Following the prompts, they reached a sprawling shopping center less than an hour later. After parking in front of the flower shop, they got out of the car. As Frankie reached for the florist's door, she realized Aidan was headed to another store, two doors down. “This way,” she called after him.

“We'll get there. Come here for a second.”

What was he up to? She glanced at the hours posted on the door. “They close in half an hour.”

“Then hurry,” he said.

The sly expression on his handsome face challenged her and his quiet voice carried a clear command. Doing nothing to hide her irritation, she stalked over and realized he'd stopped in front of a jewelry store. “No.” She crossed her arms. She was
not
going inside.

He leaned down and kissed her. That quick, brief kiss was enough to turn her knees to jelly.

“Yes,” he countered. “We're going to do this right to be sure our cover holds up.”

“You can't be serious.” He couldn't possibly mean to buy her an engagement ring.

“I'm not a man who does things halfway,” he said. “Your mother will pick up on that and wonder why I rushed to propose before I was prepared.”

“This is
pretend
,” Frankie whispered through gritted teeth.

“But it's supposed to look
real
,” he retorted with an exasperating laugh. “When I propose to the right woman, I'll have a ring. We can't have Sophia thinking I'm flighty or unreliable. We want the woman to hire me, right?”

Frankie shook her head, wishing for a hole to open up and swallow her. It would solve so many problems. Her back was stiff, her legs aching from the flight. She needed to get to the hotel so she could stretch out the kinks. Seeing her mother while dealing with the undercurrent of pain would be a disadvantage. She'd already lost the element of surprise when Victoria insisted on that phone call. Frankie wouldn't give up more ground. “Fine.” Better to give in and get back on track. “Solitaire, classic setting, no bells, whistles or wedding bands.”

“Deal.” He opened the door for her.

She didn't care for the amusement glinting in his deep blue eyes. “Are you charging it as a work expense?”

“Of course not,” he replied, clearly offended.

She let him take her hand as they walked to the glass counter full of engagement settings. Her heart kicked against her rib cage and a familiar spike of pain shot down her leg. She pulled in a slow, deep breath to help unlock her seizing muscles, which were straining against the hardware that kept her pinned together. Frankie forced herself to match his longer stride, refusing to trip or lean on him. Sheer willpower carried her closer to the twinkling gems on display, when she wanted to be anywhere else.

She felt a trickle of sweat at the nape of her neck, under her hair. Aidan might have imagined proposing to a woman, but it wasn't a milestone Frankie had ever given much thought to. Her career had been at the forefront of her mind, and working in close quarters with men took a lot of the shine off the idea of choosing one man for a lifetime. Casual dates and having a good time with friends were enough for her, especially after watching her parents' relationship disintegrate. It would be a long time before commitment and permanence broke the top ten of her priority list.

While the injury had sent her career in a new direction, it had only emphasized the lack of potential for her personal life. At one time, Frankie had wanted that devoted partnership her parents had shared. Now that idyllic romance was clouded by secrets, lies and questions that might never get answered.

The last place she belonged was here, admiring the glitter and responsibility of diamond engagement rings. “You know what?” She patted Aidan's hand. “I'd like to be surprised, after all. You know what I like.” She forced her lips into a bright smile. It felt as if her face would crack from the effort. “I know what kind of bouquet will win Mom over. I'll get the flowers while you handle this.”

“That's a great idea, sweetheart,” Aidan said smoothly. “Let's just get you sized first.” His smile looked completely natural when he greeted the salesman. “I meet the future in-laws at brunch tomorrow,” he said. “Can't leave any room for doubts or bad first impressions.”

“You've landed a smart man,” the salesman said.

Frankie swallowed and managed a shaky nod. The metal sizing rings jangled as the salesman slid one loop after another over the fourth finger of her left hand. Her stomach cramped. If she didn't get out of here soon, it was going to get ugly.

The salesman noted her ring size and she walked away as swiftly as possible without breaking into a sprint. A ring made all this too real, too extravagant. How did she keep getting outmaneuvered?

When they were done here, they were going to have a conversation about the ground rules going forward. No more games. No more kisses. This was her problem and she was going to regain control of the operation.

* * *

A
IDAN
WATCHED
HER
LEAVE
. More than a little concerned she'd take the car and leave him stranded, he'd palmed the key while she was struggling with whatever was going on behind those big brown eyes.

He'd been sure the idea of a ring would be enough to call her bluff on this engagement idea. Well, he'd just consider this practice, he decided, pointing out a few settings that he liked.

“She claims to want simple and classic,” he explained to Ted, the salesman. Aidan answered questions about his budget and barely refrained from inquiring about the return policy. If her mother had the connections and skills Frankie and Victoria implied, she could send someone out to pester Ted about this sale. Aidan didn't want to give Frankie any reason to say this engagement nonsense had failed because of him.

She'd said no bells and whistles, and no wedding bands—obviously—but he didn't take the first glittering gem Ted showed him. Once he'd examined his favorites, he chose a three-quarter-carat princess cut on a flared band of white gold. It made the best statement. Classic, clean lines. The white gold matched the setting of her earrings. The stone was big enough without overpowering her slender, fine-boned hand.

He'd just completed the purchase and was waiting for the jeweler to adjust the sizing when the door chimed and Frankie returned, carrying an arrangement of some sort wrapped in tissue paper. The sweet fragrance filled the store. “They tell me these will pop and stay beautiful for days,” she said, leaving as much distance as possible between the two of them.