Fiancee for Hire by Tawna Fenske Page B

over the operating table. “Anything I should know about tomorrow’s dinner with Zapata? Any briefs I need to read, or memos I should consult?”
    “Just be yourself,” he murmured distractedly. Then he looked at her, seemingly startled by his own words. “I’m not entirely sure I know who that is.”
    “What do you mean?”
    He was studying her so intensely, he seemed to have forgotten he was in control of a moving vehicle. “Mac? Uh, the road?”
    “Right.” He snapped his attention back to driving, but still seemed distracted. “When you meet Zapata and his wife, just be sweet, elegant, and as quiet as possible. Let me handle the talking. And don’t let Griselda bait you. She’ll probably try to get a rise out of you.”
    “Got it. I probably need to go dress shopping before the dinner party. Is there something special you want me to wear?”
    “A wiretap.”
    “I meant dresses.”
    “Oh.” He frowned. “There’s a whole closet full of things in the master bedroom. I ordered everything in your size. I was going to have Maria move them over last night after you decided to stay in the guest room, but then you fell asleep.”
    “Sorry about that.” Kelli bit her lip. “Did anyone ask questions about us not sharing a room?”
    “I told them you’re very traditional, and that you think it’s bad luck for the bride and groom to share a bed a month before their wedding.”
    “We’re getting married next month?”
    “Sure, why not?”
    Why not , Kelli thought, and stared out the window, feeling jittery all of a sudden.
    “I think we should postpone it,” she said.
    “Postpone it?”
    “The wedding. That seems way too soon.”
    Mac was silent in the driver’s seat. “You do remember we aren’t really getting married? This whole arms deal will be wrapped up long before that anyway.”
    “I know,” Kelli said, not sure why she felt so jumpy. She turned to look at him, and caught her panic-filled reflection in his sunglasses. She swallowed and pressed on. “I just don’t feel ready.”
    “Ready for a fake wedding?”
    Kelli nodded, balling her hands into fists in the wedding gown. “Maybe in two months. Or three. Or even longer. I’ve heard of engagements lasting a year or more, and I just think—”
    “Kelli.”
    “What?”
    “I promise I’m not planning to drag you to the altar by the hair, nor am I secretly plotting to get you drunk and arrange a Vegas ceremony performed by a team of Elvis impersonators.”
    “Is that going in our wedding vows?”
    Mac looked at her again, his expression softening. “I can’t believe this.”
    “What?”
    “You’re terrified of marriage.”
    She looked up at the ceiling of the car. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “Marriage—a lifelong commitment between two people?” He furrowed his brow. “Or a week-long commitment between two celebrities. Whatever. The point is that you’re afraid of it.”
    “Am not.”
    “Are, too.”
    “Am not.”
    “Are, too.” He grimaced. “Jesus, we sound like six-year-olds.”
    “Or married people.”
    Mac shook his head and turned the car onto a narrow side street. “Is that what this is about? You equate marriage with bickering and blame?”
    “No. That’s not it.”
    “Well what is it then?”
    She bit her lip, hesitating. Was there really any reason he needed to know? Commitment-phobia wasn’t really her problem, but her gripping fear of abandonment had nothing to do with this business relationship. Not if they kept emotion out of the equation, which they’d both pledged to do.
    She took a breath and forced her voice to stay steady. “I just think our story will be more believable if we slow things down a little,” she said. “That Zapata’s men will be suspicious if we rush things.”
    Mac slid into a parking spot in front of a low-slung stucco building and braked into a parking spot. He turned to look at her, and Kelli bit her lip.
    “I don’t believe for an instant that