CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER ONE
“Would you be my fiancé?”
Fiancé?
Troy McKnight must have misheard the blonde standing next to him due to the noise in the jam-packed San Francisco brewery. She was attractive with wide blue eyes, freckles across her nose, a heart-shaped face, and no makeup, but she wasn’t his type. With multiple chains and pendants hanging around her neck, dangling silver earrings, and a flowery dress, she looked out of place in the popular, after-work hangout, which was filled with the suit-and-tie crowd from nearby financial offices. He preferred women who dressed professionally. She was too bohemian looking.
He stared over the rim of his pint. “Excuse me, but what did you say?”
Releasing a sigh, she brushed her wavy blond hair behind her shoulders.
“Would you be my fiancé?” she repeated. “Just for tonight.”
Troy
had
heard her correctly the first time. He half-laughed. Her matter-of-fact tone made her proposition sound almost logical, and he knew it wasn’t the beer causing that. He’d only had one—the half-filled cold glass he held in his hand.
He took another swig from his lager. The cool liquid ran down his throat. After a rough day at the office, all he wanted was a drink followed by another quiet evening at home, nothing else.
Especially not this woman.
She hadn’t introduced herself. She could be a scam artist—a she-devil in disguise—and he the target. Even without lipstick, her full lips were luscious enough to seduce unknowing prey.
Troy set his glass on the bar. “Why do you need a fiancé tonight?”
“It’s a long story.”
Her sunshine-and-sunflower scent cut through the smell of beer hanging in the air. Okay, that was nice. “I’m not going anywhere.”
She reached for his hand, pushed back the arm of his suit, and read the time on his watch—a present from his parents when he graduated business school. “Yes, I knew it.”
“What?”
“You’re wearing a watch.”
He eyed her warily. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“That I asked the right person.”
“You’re being evasive.”
“I don’t have time to explain. Are you coming with me?”
“You’re asking for a lot without providing any explanation.”
She rolled her eyes. “I got myself into a jam with my family. It’s only one dinner. My father will pay, so the only thing tonight will cost you is time. Any other questions?”
Troy hesitated, unsure if he bought her explanation. “Nothing personal, but you don’t look like the kind of woman who hangs out here.”
“I’m not, but my parents would approve of you and the men who frequent an establishment like this.”
That sounded plausible.
“Look, will you be my fiancé or not?” The edges of her mouth turned up slightly. “I’m sorry to be impatient, but if you say no, I have to find someone else.” She glanced around the bar as if she were scanning the area for her next target.
In the crowded brewpub, she could easily find someone else. Men with rolled-up sleeves and loosened ties stood at nearby tables, relaxing after long hours at the office.
Troy didn’t know why he was considering posing as her fiancé. The woman had appeared out of nowhere, yet he couldn’t deny his curiosity about her and her strange proposition. The concern and sense of urgency in her eyes rang true, but he never took risks. Spontaneity wasn’t part of his plan—a life plan to ensure he achieved all he wanted and would never have to return to his family’s farm in that middle-of-nowhere town in Missouri.
Staring at him, she waited for his answer by tapping her unpainted fingernails against the bar.
If he said no, she seemed to have no qualms about asking another man to be her fiancé for the night. He doubted she was a con artist. She looked too much like an innocent love child from the sixties with a hint of vulnerability in her eyes. In a meat market like this, a veritable smorgasbord of male testosterone, she could end up with anyone.
At least she would be safe with him.
“This is important to you, isn’t it?” he asked.
As she tilted her chin, her earrings chimed. “Yes.”
A free dinner with an attractive woman. It almost sounded too easy. Troy thought of Jessica White, who worked in the office next to his. Now she was his type, but he’d seen Jessica’s fiancé pick her up this afternoon.
For three years, Troy had wanted to ask her out, but he’d been too busy working to get around to it. Now she was engaged to someone else, and he was sitting in a bar with a total stranger. Maybe he needed a little adventure in his life.
He took another sip of his lager. “Okay, I’ll be your fiancé.”
The woman threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek. “Oh, thank you.”
Her impulsiveness gave him a small thrill. The envious glances of other men in the bar made Troy sit straighter. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Grabbing his arm, she pulled him off his barstool. “Come on. We’re going to be late.”
Whoa! That was fast. Maybe an adventure wasn’t such a good idea. “I need to pay for my beer.”
Before Troy could reach his wallet, she opened her purse, a multicolored cloth pouch with drawstrings, and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. “Will this cover it?”
“Yes.” Call him old-fashioned, but he wasn’t used to a woman paying.
She tossed the money on the bar. “Is there anything else?”
He wanted to say yes. Stop. “No.”
“Let’s go then.” She led him out of the double glass doors.
A cool breeze blew off the San Francisco Bay. Cars sped by on the Embarcadero. To his right, the lights on the double-decker Bay Bridge twinkled in the evening sky. The pleasant October weather was a refreshing change from a day spent in a skyscraper.
“Do you have a car?” she asked.
“Not with me.”
She rubbed her temples. “We’ll take a taxi. That will be faster than calling for a ride.”
“Where are we—”
“I’ll explain everything once we’re on our way.”
She flagged a yellow cab and muttered the name of a trendy restaurant known for creating mouthwatering dishes and attracting a crowd of see-and-be-seen patrons.
He would be getting a good dinner tonight. Troy followed her into the cab.
As they pulled away from the curb, she laughed incredulously. “I’m going to pull this off.”
He watched her for a moment. Her unrestrained joy and boundless energy captivated him. He’d never met anyone like her.
She wet her lower lip. “I don’t know your name.”
“Troy McKnight.”
“Troy McKnight.” She repeated his name twice. “I like it. Well, Troy, I hope you don’t mind me calling you that. After all, we
are
engaged.”
The cab driver coughed, but Troy ignored him. “Would you mind telling me your name?”
“I’m Cassandra.”
Such a serious and formal name for such a lighthearted person. The name Cassie fit her breezy personality better. “Cassandra what?”
“Oh, sorry. Daniels, Cassandra Daniels.” She took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I found you, and you said yes.”
“Why do you need a fiancé?”
Her honey-gold eyebrows pulled together.
He couldn’t let this drop. “I need to know what’s going on. Otherwise…”
“You’re right.” She dragged her teeth over her lower lip. “Okay, here’s what happened. We met a few weeks ago, fell madly in love, and got engaged. My parents decided they had to meet the man who swept me off my feet, so they called this morning and told me they were driving up from Carmel to have dinner with us.”
“Are your parents retired?”
“My mother thinks so, and my father should be, but he does some business on the side because he claims he’s not ready for retirement. They split their time between Carmel and Palo Alto.”
She had to come from money. Both towns were expensive places to live. “What happened to the real fiancé?”
“What real fiancé?”
“I assume you told your family about a real engagement.”
“No,” Cassandra—no, he liked Cassie better—said. “I made it up.”
“Excuse me?”
“There isn’t a real fiancé. If there were, I wouldn’t need your help tonight.”
Who was this woman? She wasn’t a compulsive liar, was she? “You told your family you were engaged when you weren’t?”
She nodded as if her actions were logical.
Cassie didn’t look delusional, but this was insane.
“Why?” he asked.
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. Sometimes, I’m, uh, impulsive.” She smiled mischievously, almost as if sharing a childhood secret.
The woman had to be crazy, but what did it say about him since he agreed to participate in her lie?
“I want to thank you.” Her eyes shone with gratitude. “I could tell you were a nice guy. You have a wonderful smile.”
When had he been smiling tonight? He’d been drinking his beer in solitude to relax before heading home to his studio apartment to do more work. Maybe tomorrow, he could look back on tonight and laugh.
A smile lit up her beautiful face. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t said yes.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The way she turned toward him tightened the bodice of her dress and accentuated her full breasts.
This fiancé gig was looking better and better. He’d been working hard, trying to close the Micro-Psi deal, and get offered a partnership with the venture capital firm where he worked. But life consisted of more than reading balance sheets and making deals. He was no different from any other red-blooded male. He needed rest, relaxation, and fun too.
“No, it
is
a big deal.” She squeezed his hand. “You’re my McKnight in shining armor.”
“At your service, milady. We McKnights aim to please.” He wasn’t sure if the full moon or her perfume were getting to him, but he found Cassie’s playful spirit contagious.
When was the last time he’d had fun? Troy couldn’t remember. His shoulders tightened.
“By the way, is there anything else I should know about tonight?” he asked.
“You should know a little about me.” She bit her lower lip. “Let’s see. My favorite color is purple. I love flowers and hot fudge sundaes. I’m not a vegetarian. I love a good hamburger every now and then. Cooked medium. I think people who won’t eat veal but eat chicken are hypocrites. I love reading books. I like eight-hundred-thread-count sheets—any higher number than that isn’t better, just pretentious. Oh, and I sleep in the nude.”
Stunned, Troy stared at her. She’d spoken so fast. Hot fudge sundaes and sleeping in the nude. His temperature rose at the images filling his mind. He crossed his legs.
“What about you?” she asked.
He couldn’t think straight. He needed to cool down. “Uh, I like ice cream.”
“Chocolate’s my favorite. What else?”
Troy stared into her eyes and found himself transfixed. It was as if he were being hypnotized.
She smiled at him as if he were a lost puppy. “Any sports?”
“I like football.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
Her eyes were the color of a cloudless summer sky. “Blue.”
She patted his hand. “Don’t worry. We can make it up as we go along.”
What was wrong with him? He felt out of sync. Almost dizzy. Maybe he needed something to eat.
The cab slowed as it approached the restaurant. Cassie handed the driver a twenty-dollar bill and slid out of the cab. “Are you ready?”
Not at all
. Troy cleared his throat. “Sure.”
Cassie brushed a lock of hair from his forehead and straightened his tie. She took his hand in hers. “Don’t forget—we’re madly in love.”
Her small hand fit snugly in his. Madly in love? Maybe they were just mad.
♥ ♥ ♥
Standing on the sidewalk, Cassandra worried Troy might change his mind. He seemed a little uptight given all the questions he’d asked. She was so sure he would say no that his yes had surprised her. Maybe that was why she held on to his hand like a lifeline.
So far, so good. She couldn’t believe she’d found a fiancé—albeit a fake one—but the evening was only beginning. Her insides trembled. This night could easily turn into a complete disaster.
“Nice place,” he said.
“Yes.” That was the only word Cassandra could manage right now. She clenched her free hand and then flexed her fingers. Nerves were getting to her. Who was she kidding? She’d been frantic from the time she hung up from her mother’s call earlier today.
Cassandra wasn’t a good actress, but if she pulled off tonight, she should get an Oscar for her performance.
Her family wasn’t standing at the carved mahogany bar. They must be seated. That would mean making a grand entrance with her fiancé in tow. Something she hadn’t wanted to happen, but she’d been running late, as usual.
She glimpsed Troy’s reflection in a mirror. An unexpected smile tugged at her lips.
Luck was on her side tonight. He was exactly the well-dressed fiancé she’d hoped to find. His Italian navy suit was top-of-the-line silk cashmere if she guessed right. He wore a nice watch, which was a bonus. And he was easy on the eyes.
Very easy.
High cheekbones and sculpted features gave Troy a model-handsome look. To be totally corporate, he needed a haircut and different style, but she liked the way his longish, curly at the ends, and almost-out-of-control brown locks added character to
his
all-American good looks.
Her picky parents would find few faults with Troy McKnight. They would give their seal of approval and stop interfering in Cassandra’s personal life. After tonight, their endless dating advice and match
m
a
kin
g would stop. She’d be on her own.
For good this time.
All she wanted was to be left alone.
Soon…
She smiled, pleased with herself. She’d found the perfect fiancé for the night. Her sister, Emily, would be jealous, too. That was another bonus. Cassandra didn’t care what Eric Wainwright, her brother-in-law, thought, so long as he didn’t voice his opinion. She’d heard enough from Eric. She’d be happier if she never had to see him again.
The hostess, an attractive woman with flaming red hair, smiled. “May I help you?”
“We’re with the Daniels party,” Cassandra said.
The woman glanced at something on the tall table she was standing behind. “Your party is seated. Follow me.”
She led Cassandra and Troy into the crowded dining area.
Not one table was empty. Waiters hurried around with steaming plates of food and bottles of wine. The scent of basil and garlic drifted in the air. Cassandra had skipped lunch and was starving.
Noise from spirited conversations rose from the tables, but the din wasn’t unpleasant. Not like at the brewpub earlier, which was just a place people went to drink and hook up. She shivered. The only good thing about that place was knowing she’d find someone suitable to pacify her parents there.
“Here’s your party,” the hostess said. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“Thank you.” Cassandra took in the image of her family sitting at the table like models from a magazine ad or a soap opera. None had noticed she’d arrived. Not surprising. She’d tried fitting into their world, but she’d realized that wasn’t who she was. Maybe someday her parents would understand and accept the choices she’d made. Then again…
Vanessa Daniels, her mother, wore a black knit dress—simple lines and flattering, which no doubt carried a hefty price tag as did the rest of her wardrobe. Every strand of her platinum hair was in place, and her brilliant diamond earrings sparkled for all to admire. Thanks to daily workouts and highly paid dermatologists, she was a stunning woman who looked like she was in her early forties, not pushing sixty.
How would her mother act if she became a grandmother?
Cassandra couldn’t imagine her mom letting anyone call her “Grandma.” But that was Emily’s problem when she had babies. Cassandra didn’t even want to date. Forget about marriage and having a family. She liked being single.
Her mother’s gaze met Cassandra’s. “I told you she would come, Emily. And look, Dixon, her fiancé does exist.”
“You’re correct, Vanessa,” her father said. “I must admit I had my doubts given how fast things have happened, but he’s real.”
Cassandra winced. She would show her parents she could find her own man. She didn’t need their help or their interference.
“Sorry we’re late.” Cassandra clutched Troy’s warm, strong hand. She not only needed a fiancé tonight, but she also needed someone to give her emotional support. “Troy and I were making out, so I had the driver make an extra circle around the Civic Center.”
Her mother blushed. “Cassandra, really.”
“Don’t worry, Vanessa.” Her father, the venerable Dixon Daniels, downed his drink. His once-blond hair had turned gray, and he could stand to lose about thirty pounds, but he was still handsome with sparkling cornflower-blue eyes and a cheerful smile. “At least this one looks normal. Unless there are hidden tattoos or pierced body parts under that suit?”
Cassandra leaned over and kissed her father’s tan cheek. The familiar scent of his aftershave filled her nostrils and brought back fond memories of her childhood. She might be the black sheep of the family, but she would always be her daddy’s little girl. “Don’t be a prude, Dad. Everyone has a tattoo.”
“I don’t.” Emily, her uptight sister, sounded offended. “Not everyone is as classless as you.”
Her? Classless?
As if asking Cassandra to be her maid of honor was an example of classy behavior.
Unbelievable.
“Well, I suppose you got all the class when they divided the DNA.”
Emily was her fraternal twin. She was two minutes older, an inch taller, and fifteen pounds lighter. Her light brown hair was pulled off her face. Her little black dress shouted designer collection. Two twins couldn’t be more opposite. They’d shared nothing except the same birth date…until Eric Wainwright.
Eric.
So pathetic.
Sweat beaded on his high, creased forehead. A short, boring hairstyle had replaced his formerly luscious mane of blond hair. The hair. That was what had attracted Cassandra to him in the first place. The length had given him a wildness and an edge that was missing now.
For the best.
He’d created a bad-boy character that made him irresistible to her, but it had been an act. He wasn’t wild or a rebel or any of the things he claimed to be. The nights she’d spent with her arms around him, riding on his motorcycle and watching sunsets, had been as fake as his words of love. She’d been Eric’s key to ensuring a successful career—until he met Emily, who was born to be a corporate trophy wife.
Unlike Cassandra.
She only wondered if Eric was as miserable to her sister as he’d been to Cassandra. Her wedding gift to the couple had been a lovely keepsake box containing the business cards of marriage counselors. Tacky, yes, but what the two of them had done to her was worse.
“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your betrothed, sweetheart?” her father asked.
Her betrothed.
Troy.
“Sorry,” Cassandra said. “I got so caught up in the goodwill at the table, I forgot.”
Emily rolled her eyes. “Are you trying to be sarcastic or ironic? Or perhaps you don’t know the difference…”
Ignoring the words, Cassandra cuddled against Troy’s firm, wide chest. His muscles tensed, but she didn’t back away. She couldn’t, or her family would figure out this was a ruse. She lightly rubbed her fingers against him. Maybe that would calm him.
“Troy, this is my family.” Cassandra looked at her mom and then her dad. Emily and Eric didn’t warrant acknowledgment. “Family, this is Troy McKnight, the man of my dreams.”