The Substitute Fiancée. Rebecca Russell

The Substitute Fiancée - Rebecca  Russell


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the door opened. Jenna’s one hand gripped the tips of the fingers of her other hand, but at least she was dressed and looking her usual glamorous self. Relief ate away at some of his uneasiness.

      “You look amazing, as always, Jenna,” he said as he drew her close and kissed her on the cheek.

      She pulled back and chuckled. “I have to, or everyone will be looking at you!”

      “Not a chance with you in the room.”

      Mac swore he detected a slight flush on Jenna’s cheeks, but discarded the idea since she didn’t embarrass easily. Must’ve been the lighting.

      “It’s settled then, Mac. We’re both gorgeous!”

      Her smile seemed forced. She reached for her evening bag on the end table and held it against her stomach as if the minuscule purse were a protective shield. But what or who was she guarding herself against?

      Jenna wasn’t afraid of anyone and was certainly no blushing innocent, so he blamed his vivid imagination tonight on either the lighting or exhaustion.

      “Ready?” she asked.

      “I was born ready, Jenn,” he replied in typical fashion, already anticipating one of her glib comebacks.

      Instead, an unmistakable rush of color spread across her face and he could no longer deny something was different about Jenna today. Their usual banter had never caused a reaction before, not even the times they attempted to outdo each other with sexy double entendres.

      Was her odd behavior a result of her having second thoughts about getting married?

      He gave himself a mental shake. Jenna was the type of woman who knew what she wanted and went after it, a trait he admired. She’d be the last person to question her decision.

      “Let’s go then,” Jenna finally replied. “We don’t want to keep the cameras waiting.”

      The right words poured from her mouth, but they somehow sounded awkward and her smile seemed too bright. What had happened to her sassy attitude and poise?

      She was doing it again, showing a vulnerability he’d never imagined she possessed. What the heck was he supposed to do with vulnerable?

      He suddenly knew what he’d like to do. Skip the fund-raiser he’d been in charge of just so he could spend the night kissing the forced smile from her mouth, muss her perfect hair and help her out of the body-hugging pale green dress that matched her eyes.

      What was he thinking? No woman, not even his fiancée, had ever tempted him to put pleasure before business.

      With a mental shake, he offered his arm. “Let’s go,” he said more gruffly than intended, but dammit anyway, he’d proposed a merger of talents when he’d asked her to marry him, not an emotional relationship that would distract him from his work.

      He’d tolerate her odd behavior for now, but it was countdown time. One week. Just seven more days and his world, and Jenna, had better return to business as usual.

      Mac struggled to control his frustration as he searched the crowded ballroom for a sign of Jenna. Not that he’d expected her to remain glued to his side, but she’d been acting so odd lately, he really wanted to keep an eye on her.

      He was in his element, so why couldn’t he relax? Attendance had doubled in the past three years since he’d become the sponsor of the annual Childhood Disease Research fund-raiser and moved the gala to the Congress Hotel, one of the oldest and finest in downtown Dallas.

      He’d obviously chosen the right people for the decorating committee. The ballroom decorations met his standards of simple yet elegant, and the food appeared to be a hit as well. The band, set up in a rear corner, played just loud enough to be heard and not discourage conversation.

      Reps from several local TV stations and the newspaper had arrived as promised with camera crews, so the event would get great coverage in both medias.

      Where was Jenna?

      “You sure know how to throw a party, McKenna.”

      He turned to discover John Nashco. The district attorney had a reputation as a notorious, but harmless, flirt. “Anything for a good cause. Filled out that check yet?”

      John nodded. “But I’d rather let your fiancée sweet-talk me out of it. Won’t hurt so much. Where is the captivating Jenna?”

      Mac wasn’t about to admit he’d been wondering that himself. “You know her, she’s working the room.” He caught a glimpse of light green fabric. “I see her, John. Stay here and get your checkbook out. I’ll be right back.”

      Mac made his way through the crowd toward Jenna. The closer he got, the more his senses came alive. Her tentative smile charmed, her feminine curves captivated. He was surprised by the warmth in her voice as she spoke to an elderly man he recognized but couldn’t place. She usually “worked” a crowd and rarely stopped for a lengthy one-on-one chat.

      He put his arm around her shoulders. She immediately stiffened, looked up and smiled, then relaxed against him, their bodies a perfect fit.

      Her soft hair tickled his chin and the subtle floral scent kicked his hormones into high gear. Had she recently changed shampoos or had he just somehow failed to notice before? “I need to steal you away for a minute, Jenn.”

      “Sure.” She turned to the man she’d been conversing with. “Tell your wife I hope she feels better soon, Mr. Boreman.”

      “I will, young lady.” He nodded at Mac. “Mr. McKenna, you’re a lucky man. Take care of her, you hear?”

      “I intend to, sir.” Mac took Jenna by the elbow and weaved through the throng of dark suits and sequins. “John Nashco wants to arm wrestle you for a donation.”

      “Arm wrestle? You’re kidding, right?”

      Mac raised his eyebrows. “Of course. Just charm the check out of him like you usually do.”

      “Um, sure. No problem.” She glanced around the room, as if looking for an escape. Or had his imagination kicked in again and she was just thirsty and simply looking for a waiter?

      “Can I get you anything to drink or eat?”

      “I couldn’t eat, but a soda would be great.”

      “A soda?”

      She nodded and placed her hands over her stomach. “My stomach is a little unsettled, so I’m going to pass on the wine.”

      “There you are, Jenna.” John kissed her first on one cheek then the other. Her green eyes grew wide for just a second. “You look ravishing, as always.”

      Those same eyes now sparkled with delight as she curtsied. “Why, thank you, kind sir. And you look rather dashing yourself.” She reached for his tie and straightened it. “Great tie.”

      Mac clenched his jaw to keep from saying anything, then left to find a soda for Jenna instead of her usual Chablis. He needed something stronger for himself before he acted like a fool and wedged his body between theirs.

      What was wrong with him? Jenna was just doing what she’d done many times before, stroking a man’s ego. Mac trusted her and had never felt the least bit jealous before.

      Him, jealous? No. Not possible. They didn’t have that kind of a relationship. More than likely, Jenna’s weird reaction to the stress of the upcoming nuptials had rubbed off on him.

      “How about a couple of pictures, Mr. Nashco, of you and Ms. Taggert?”

      Jessie turned to find a young man wearing a media badge and carrying a camera. Her sister lived for these moments in the spotlight, so Jessie put all thoughts of the uncomfortable push-up bra and high heels out of her mind and smiled.

      “Any excuse to put my arm around a beautiful lady.”

      Jessie had to admit that she really did feel beautiful tonight. Before


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