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“Wait a minute here.”
“That will prove to everyone that we’re breaking up amicably, remaining friends despite the fact that the wedding didn’t work out. Then you can recommend me to the other firms you deal with, and we’ll be square.”
“That’s outrageous. In fact, it’s blackmail.”
“It’s business. Take it or leave it.”
“And if I leave it?”
Darcy shrugged. “That would be just fine with me. I’ll be no worse off than when I woke up this morning—except for the attack of acid indigestion you’ve caused me. And I’m sure you could find someone among the women of your acquaintance who would play along with the idea of being engaged and be much more enthusiastic about the role than I am.”
She had him there. They’d be too enthusiastic—that was the problem.
“One of Caroline’s friends might be willing to help you out.”
Trey couldn’t help wincing at the thought.
“And if Dave put his mind to it,” she went on thoughtfully, “he might even be able to write up a contract that’s watertight enough to keep her from suing you later on for changing your mind and dumping her. Mind you, I’m not promising anything of the sort, because then I’d be practicing law without a license, and Dave says I have to be very careful about that.”
Might. Trey didn’t feel like betting his life on Dave’s contract-writing skills. Which of course was exactly why Darcy had said it. Obviously Dave wasn’t the only member of the Malone family who specialized in twisted legal logic.
“If I agree to set you up in business,” he warned, “I’m going to expect a lot more than the occasional public appearance.”
Darcy didn’t miss a beat. “Really? What have you got in mind? You want me to have your baby after all?”
His mouth went dry at the thought. With horror, he told himself. “Heaven forbid the world should have a miniature version of you inflicted on it.”
Darcy smiled. “Now that’s really funny, because I was thinking precisely the same thing about you. Andrew Patrick Kent the Fourth—the poor child. What would you call him, anyway? Quatro?”
Trey decided to ignore her. “If I’m going to invest serious money in setting you up in business, you’d have to make yourself available whenever I needed you. And there would be no embarrassing incidents. No getting caught in a compromising position with some other guy.”
“Oh, that’s comforting. You mean I can do anything I want, as long as I don’t get caught—right?”
“Dammit, Darcy—”
“Oh, don’t worry. Remember? I’m just as skittish as you are—there’s absolutely no one in my life and no possibility that will change. So you have nothing to worry about. I’ll be too busy working on my new business to look around for men, anyway.”
He wished that felt like a benefit. In fact, the more she worked on her new business, he suspected, the more this was going to cost him. But what choice did he have? “Then we have a deal,” he said, and held out a hand.
She hesitated, and he found himself holding his breath. Then she reached out. Her palm was warm against his, her grip firm, her fingers steady.
Trey wouldn’t have been surprised to find that he was trembling himself. Which was totally ridiculous, of course. She’d agreed to the terms—hell, she’d set them herself, so she had nothing to complain about. Things were perfectly clear. It was absolutely, unquestionably a no-risk agreement.
So why did he feel like running?
Darcy had had no intention of agreeing. The proposition Trey had made was nothing short of ludicrous, but the only way to make him realize how silly he sounded had seemed to be to make her terms just as laughable as his were. So she’d fired back in similar terms, never dreaming that he might actually give in and accept them.
For a moment, when he’d offered to shake hands on the deal, she’d been tempted to back down—to withdraw the demand of a business of her own and take him up on the offer to help her find a job instead.
But all the arguments she’d given him earlier were valid ones. If he were to create a job for her, she’d go into it under a cloud. Though her skills and talents were real, a supervisor who was forced to hire her might never give her the chance to make good. If that were to happen, the working conditions could end up being every bit as bad as what she’d left behind when she came home to the penthouse.
And once Trey had found her a job, he would have fulfilled his end of the bargain, and he’d have no further obligation to help, no matter how unpleasant the situation in which she found herself. Meanwhile, she’d still have her promise to fulfill, even if it took months and months…
But what was she thinking? There was yet another option—a third choice, beyond making a deal for either a job or her own business. And the third alternative was the only sensible one. She should thank him for his offer and do her best not to laugh as she turned him down.
But she didn’t. Instead, as if she were mesmerized, Darcy found herself reaching out to him, actually agreeing to be his pretend fiancée for the next three months.
What in heaven’s name was wrong with her? She should have run, not let herself be talked into cutting a deal with Mr. Elegance. He was exactly what she didn’t need—another guy who was gorgeous and knew how to use it to his advantage…
No, she thought. This time would be different. This time, she was the one who would be doing the using.
She vaguely heard the creak of Dave’s office door opening, and only when she heard the murmur of approaching voices did she realize that she and Trey were still standing in the kitchen, hand in hand. She pulled away as quickly as she could.
But obviously Dave had already seen, for he said, “You’ve struck a deal, then? Good—I’ll get the paperwork written up.”
“Paperwork?” Darcy said. “You mean like a prenuptial agreement?”
Trey frowned at her.
“All right, a nonnuptial agreement, then,” Darcy muttered.
Dave had gone straight on. “I’ll draw up a simple contract. I’m glad we could help out, Trey.”
“What do you mean, we?” Darcy said. “Unless you’re going to be getting your picture taken, Dave, and making nice at social functions, I don’t think that your contribution is nearly as personal as—”
Caroline spoke up. “Speaking of social functions, will you be giving Darcy an engagement party, David?”
“It hadn’t crossed my mind, no.”
Darcy relaxed. At least Dave hadn’t totally lost his perspective.
Caroline frowned. “Then perhaps I’ll do it. I don’t think it matters who hosts it, really—does it, Darcy? I know showers are supposed to be given by friends, not by family members, but is there any rule about engagement parties?”
Was the woman serious? Hadn’t she gotten the message that this wasn’t real? Or was Trey planning to keep her in the dark, too?
Darcy decided to humor her for a bit and wait for Trey to speak up or Caroline to regain her senses. “Beats me. As long as we’re shopping for everything a couple needs for a wedding and a home, maybe we should start with an etiquette book so we can look up the rules.”
Caroline smiled, and then touched a careful finger to her upper lip where the skin had stretched wide and broken open once again. “Ouch, that hurt. But that’s a really good idea. Every bride should have an etiquette book on hand. I think this is going to be wonderful, Trey—Darcy has much more creative ideas than I do.”
“Yes,” Trey said, almost under his breath. “I’d already noticed how creative she is at getting what she wants.”
“I’ll start planning the party, then,” Caroline went on. “Surely by the weekend I’ll be able to appear in public, don’t you think? I’m a fast healer.”
Fast healer? Darcy wondered if that meant Caroline had experience in how long it took her to heal from facial blows, and suddenly she felt a little selfish at having thought only of the impact this agreement would have on her own life. If by playing this part for a while she could make Caroline’s life a little easier, spare her some embarrassment over her broken engagement, and help her pick up the pieces of a shattered dream so that she didn’t become involved with yet another abusive man somewhere down the line…
Now that’s a great motive, she told herself. It sounds so much nicer of me than simply blackmailing Trey Kent into setting me up in business…
Her head was obviously still spinning. How had she gotten herself so enmeshed in this? And why? That was the real puzzler. Certainly not to help Caroline, whom she didn’t even know, or Trey, whom she didn’t even like!
“This is wonderful,” Caroline bubbled. “It’s all working out better than anyone could have hoped. Just a couple of hours ago I thought I’d ruined everything, but now it’s going to be even better than I thought was possible.”
Trey was looking at his watch. “Caroline, about the district attorney—what have you decided to do?”
Caroline’s glee vanished. She took a deep breath. “I’ll talk to him. And I’ll file charges.”
“Good.” Trey squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll be right there with you all the way.”
There was a soft note in his voice that was unlike anything Darcy had heard before. She was still trying to sort out whether it was approval, support, warmth, love, or something else entirely, when he turned to her.
“Darcy, I’ll pick you up at six, and we can spend the evening going over the necessary details so you’ll be prepared for the shoot tomorrow.” Every hint of softness was gone.
“How considerate of you to ask whether that fits into my calendar,” she murmured, making no attempt to keep the sarcasm out of her tone. “And here I expected maybe you’d be dictatorial about your plans.”
“I suppose we could go in without any preparation and just let the crew think we were too busy making love to bother to talk,” Trey said.
Darcy noticed her brother biting back a grin, and glared at him. “Six will be fine.”
“I thought it would,” Trey murmured.
Irritated, Darcy struck back. “Now you must run along and get busy, darling,” she said sweetly, “because you’ll need to make all the money you possibly can, in order to provide for me.”
When Trey arrived at the cottage on the dot of six o’clock, Darcy was still struggling to make the computer print out a will she’d been working on most of the afternoon. “Have a seat while I finish,” she told him. “Dave needs this first thing in the morning.”
He sat on the corner of the desk, right next to her, rather than in the chair she indicated. “Word processing isn’t exactly your top skill?”
“If you’re trying to make the point that I’d be happier doing graphic arts instead of wills, don’t bother. We all know that already.” She pushed a key and the printer wheezed, sucked in a sheet of paper and stopped dead.
“What’s the rush with the will?” Trey said.
“Since it’s not your will, that information is confidential.” Darcy tried the print command again, but the printer refused to budge. “Okay, I get the message. Maybe it just needs to pout for a while. I want to be home early anyway because it’s been a very long day. So I’ll come back and finish this up later.” She closed the file and turned off the computer. “Let’s go.”
“Aren’t you going to change clothes?”
Darcy glanced at her slacks and sweater. “Why? Where are we going? Because if you’re planning to take me someplace swanky, I’d suggest you think again.”
“There will be some formal events along the way, you know,” Trey warned. “If you’re not comfortable with that, we’ve got a problem.”
“Oh, I can handle swank—as long as you provide the clothes. I just meant that you surely don’t want to talk about all this at one of your regular hangouts and risk being overheard by your friends.”
“Good point. Where do you suggest?”
She looked him over thoughtfully. “There’s a little bar a few blocks down. It’s noisy enough that nobody can be overheard, and dark enough not to be noticed—that is, if you lose the tie and borrow one of Dave’s windbreakers to replace the suit coat. Try the back of his office door.”
When he came back, he was shrugging himself into an oversized black jacket emblazoned in huge yellow letters with the name of the college where Dave had gotten his law degree. “This isn’t exactly what I’d call anonymous. I bet it glows in the dark.”
“It’ll fit into the crowd at Tanner’s better than that suit would.”
“You’re sure Dave won’t mind me borrowing it? Where is he, anyway?”
“I don’t know. He left an hour or so ago and said something vague about having an appointment.”
He helped her into her raincoat. Darcy checked her pockets for keys and emergency funds and locked the door of the cottage behind them.
His car was parked directly in front. It was—of course—a fire-engine-red sports car that Darcy’s gut said had cost at least twice as much as her entire college education. Men are so predictable… “Oh, boy,” she said. “How many miles does this baby get per gallon of testosterone?”
“I have no idea,” Trey said coolly. “It belongs to Caroline.”
“All right,” she admitted cheerfully. “I leaped to conclusions there and missed the pier entirely. So what do you drive—a Rolls-Royce that matches your suit?”
“Depends on the day.”
Darcy had to admit that despite herself she was impressed—certainly not by the fact that he owned multiple cars, but because he didn’t seem to want to brag about it. “How did you and Dave become friends, anyway? Somehow the two of you just don’t seem the type to be bosom buddies.”
“Because he has a motorcycle and I don’t?”
Darcy chalked that up as a fact to remember. “I’ve never heard him mention your name.”
“We met in the frat house in college. Lost track of each other after that, and we didn’t run into each other again until a college reunion a year or two ago.”
“When I’d already gone to San Francisco.”
“I guess it must have been. What were you doing out there, anyway?”
“Graphic arts,” she said crisply. “How long have you been with the stores?”
“About two years. I stayed out East after grad school and worked for a couple of different firms, but then my dad had a heart attack and had to retire, so I came home to take over.”
“How does he feel about you being in charge?”
“He died six months ago,” Trey said.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“No reason you should.”
That, Darcy thought, was not quite true, even though the name probably wouldn’t have had personal meaning for her. But six months ago she’d been living in a fog where nothing much had made an impression. Six months ago, she might not even have noticed Trey Kent if he’d crossed her path.
No, she thought. No matter what else was going on in her life, it would be impossible for any woman to ignore Mr. Elegance.
“Where are we going, again?”
Darcy had gotten so sidetracked into thinking about Trey that she had to stop to think. “Tanner’s—it’s a couple more blocks down. There’s parking out front.” Belatedly she remembered what he was driving. “Unless you’d rather leave the car with a valet at the hotel down the street.”
“No, it’ll be fine. This car has such an elaborate alarm system it’ll slap handcuffs on anybody who tries to touch it, long before the cops have a chance to show up.”
Just inside the front door of the bar, she paused to look around. “There’s a free booth—I’ll grab it, if you want to go get the drinks. Just an iced tea for me, please.”
The booth was in a corner, well away from both the door and the bar, and she had to work her way through a fair-sized crowd to get there. Halfway there, she heard someone calling her name and turned to see a friend of Dave’s leaning against the pool table.
