SUSAN MEIER - The Boss's Fake Fiancée

“Are you sure you’re not going to be sorry?”

“I’ve had a crush on this man since the day I met him. He’s never noticed me. Only an idiot hangs around forever.”

“True.”

“And this way I don’t merely have a new job that pays enough that I can find my mom.” She waved two credit cards. “I get a new wardrobe out of it.”

Sally grabbed the cards. “Seriously?”

“Yep. That’s why I need your help this morning. I have a hundred-thousand-dollar credit limit on each. Riccardo said use it all. Get everything, including fancy luggage. He said the wedding is formal and I’ll also need a gown for the reception the night before. Not to mention the opening ball and a few cocktail parties. He said I’ll need enough jeans and shorts and dresses and bathing suits never to be seen in the same thing twice.”

Sally gaped at her. “You have hit the jackpot.”

“Nope. Believe it or not, Riccardo and Mitch see this as absolutely necessary. I have to look like somebody Mitch would want to marry. To them it’s like wardrobe for a play. So, all I have to do is endure two weeks of pretending to be in love with the man I actually do love, and I’ll walk away with my freedom, a new job that hopefully pays enough that I can find my mom and enough clothes to be a whole new person.”

She also had to not take any of it seriously, keep her wits about her and not end up with a broken heart.

But she didn’t tell Sally that. She’d had enough trouble convincing herself she could do it. Sally would never let her go if she thought there was even an inkling of a doubt—and she desperately wanted to find her mom. She wanted the life they’d missed out on.

Oddly, pretending to be in love with the man she actually loved was her ticket away from him and to that life.

* * *

Mitch paced the tarmac at ten o’clock the next morning, nervous about this plan. Yesterday, it had seemed like a good idea. Today, thinking about Lila’s unruly hair, glasses and frumpy clothes, he found it hard to believe he actually thought they could pull this off. He liked her as an assistant—No. He loved her as an assistant. She was smart and thorough and always at his side, ready to do whatever needed to be done. But in the entire time they’d worked together they’d never even had a good enough conversation to tip over into becoming friends.

How in the hell could he have been so desperate to imagine they could pretend to be lovers for two weeks?

His limo suddenly appeared around the corner of the hangar. He’d bought a cab to the airport, leaving Pete and the limo for Lila to make sure she got to the correct place. Seeing them pull up, though, only added to his apprehension. How was he going to pretend to love somebody he barely knew?

The limo stopped. Pete jumped out and opened the back door. One pale pink strappy sandal appeared, then a long length of leg, then the pink hem of a skirt, then Lila stepped out completely. Chestnut-brown hair had been thinned into a sleek, shoulder-length hairdo and now had blond highlights. Her lips were painted a shimmery pink. The little pink dress hugged her curves.

Holy hell.

Big black sunglasses covering half her face, she strolled up to him, a smile curving a lush mouth that he’d never noticed before.

“Do I pass?”

He fought the urge to stutter. “You look—” Unbelievable. Amazing. So different that his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. “Very good. Perfect.”

“I took you for the sunglasses and miniskirt type.”

And who knew her legs were so long, so shapely?

He covered his shock at her perception of his taste in women with a nervous laugh. “You maxed out Riccardo’s credit cards, didn’t you?”

She glanced back at Pete, who pulled suitcase after suitcase out of the car. “He told me to, but I didn’t. You don’t grow up a foster child without getting some mad skills with money. It would have killed me to pay full price for some of these things. Besides, clearance racks sometimes have the best clothes.”

She made a little motion with her fingers for Pete to bring her luggage to the plane, then she headed for the steps. Mitch watched her walk up the short stack and duck into the fuselage, vaguely aware when Pete walked up beside him.

“Who knew, huh?”

“Yeah.” Mitch didn’t have to ask what Pete was talking about. His Plain Jane assistant looked like she’d stepped off the cover of a magazine. Her high-heeled sandals added a sway to her hips. Sunglasses made her look like someone who summered in the Mediterranean.

Pete said, “Better get going.”

Realizing he was standing there gaping like an idiot, he walked to the steps and climbed into the plane. Lila sat on one of the four plush, white leather seats that swiveled and looked like recliners. He stopped.

She peered up at him over her sunglasses. “The pilot told me to sit anywhere and buckle in.”

“Pedro?” The good-looking one? Why did that make his chest feel like a rock?

She shrugged and pulled an e-reader out of her oversize purse. “I don’t know. The guy with the great smile.”

It was Pedro. He might not be a millionaire businessman who came from a family with a vineyard, but pilots made a tidy sum, especially private pilots. And the man was a flirt.

He told himself he only cared because Lila was supposed to be his fiancée, and she couldn’t use this trip to cruise for dates. “When we get to Spain, you can’t be noticing the great smiles of other men.”

She laughed. “Jealous?”

“No.” The rock from his chest fell to his stomach. He wasn’t jealous. This was a make-believe situation. Great hair, sexy body, flirty sunglasses or not, this was still Lila. “I’m saving myself a ton of grief with this ruse. Not to mention that I’m getting the focus off me and onto the happy couple where it belongs. I do not want to spoil my brother’s wedding.”

He sat on the seat across the aisle and buckled in. Pulling a sheet of paper from the breast pocket of his suit jacket, he swiveled his chair to face her and said, “Riccardo came up with this last night.”

She glanced around as if confused. “Where is Riccardo?”

“He took a commercial flight so he could get there ahead of us to pave the way for our story. He’s going to tell everyone I’m engaged. He’s going to pretend to have let it slip and tell my mom and Nanna they have to behave as if they don’t know because I wanted to surprise them.”

She frowned. “That’s weird.”

“No. It adds authenticity to the story. Makes it more believable.”

“Ah.”

That one syllable gave him a funny feeling that tightened his shoulders and made his eyes narrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She laughed. “It just meant I understood.” She laughed again. “You’re cranky in real life.”

“Yeah, well, you’re...” She was a knockout in real life. How had he not noticed this? He couldn’t remember a damned thing she’d worn to work, which meant it had to be nondescript—nothing worth remembering. Her hair had always been in those odd chopstick things. And her glasses? Thick as Coke bottles.

“You’re different too.” He finished his thought with a bunch of lame words that didn’t come out as much of a comeback.

And that was another thing. When had she gotten so sassy?

He opened the folded sheet of paper. “Riccardo decided that we should stick with the fact that you’re my assistant.” He glanced up and saw her watching him intently, clearly wanting to get her part down so she could play it. He relaxed a bit, though it did send an unexpected zing through him that she’d taken off the sunglasses. She must be wearing contacts on her smoke-gray eyes. Very sexy smoke-gray eyes that tilted up at the corners and gave her an exotic look.