5

Later that afternoon, Troy stood on a street corner watching Cassie get her face painted. He’d wanted to relax and hang out with Dixon, but Cassie had had other ideas. Grabbing his arm, she’d dragged him to his truck. She’d given him no explanation, just a smile. Standard operating procedure for Cassie.

But still…

Something was on her mind. He could tell by the way she gnawed on her lip. He assumed it had something to do with their talk earlier, but didn’t ask. She’d talk to him when she was ready. Troy had figured that out about her.

Cassie had wanted to go to the beach, so he drove her there. They’d walked along the wet sand in bare feet, smelling the salty air and listening to the waves crash against the shore. She’d said little, another sign telling him something was wrong. Then, she’d wanted to go to the village. And here they were.

Cassie sat on a wooden stool. “Are you sure you don’t want your face painted, Troy?” A woman, wearing a clown suit, painted two daisies on Cassie’s left cheek.

“I think I’ll pass.” Face painting wasn’t for him, but Carmel was. He could get used to this. A gentle breeze blew though a rainbow wind sock hanging outside a flower shop. Birds chirped from a nearby tree. Tourists strolled along the quaint streets, visiting the many galleries and trendy boutiques.

Someone giggled behind him. He glanced back. Three young girls waited in line to have their faces painted. They whispered to one another. He smiled. One of the girls, dressed in pink overalls, blushed and covered her mouth with her hands. She had curly blond hair—a little angel. All she needed was a pair of wings and a halo. Seeing her made Troy wonder what Cassie had looked like when she was younger. No doubt a real cutie with her heart-shaped face and baby blue eyes, like the little girl standing behind him.

Troy sighed. He hoped he had all boys when he had children. Girls would age a man, fast. Especially if they turned out to be anything like Cassie.

Whoa. Where had that come from?

He wanted a family, yes. But not now. And not with Cassie. She was attractive, but unconventional.

Not his type.

The perfect fiancée for a weekend, but not any longer. Troy knew what it took to get ahead. He needed a woman, make that a wife, who would be an asset to his career, not a novelty. Cassie wouldn’t be content standing around and chatting politely at a cocktail party. She would probably pull out a deck of tarot cards and offer to do readings in order to liven things up.

Not the woman for him.

Sliding off the stool, Cassie handed the clown a five-dollar bill. With a big grin on her face, she turned toward him and struck a pose, giving him a perfect view of the daisies on her flushed cheek. The flowers matched the ones on her dress. “What do you think?”

She smiled. A good sign. “It’s nice.”

“Nice?” Cassie balked. Two little lines formed above the bridge of her nose. “I wonder how you would describe my tattoo?”

“You have a tattoo?” As he said the words, Troy wondered why he would be surprised. Nothing about her should surprise him. A tattoo. Cassie would have a flower. Wildflowers? A rose, perhaps? But where? The idea of finding it made him smile.

“Yes, don’t you?” She made it sound like having a tattoo was the same as having pierced ears.

“Uh, no.”

“You really need to spice up your life, Troy. You wouldn’t want anyone to think you were boring.”

Next to Cassie, anyone would seem bland. “My life is exciting enough.”

“Suit yourself.”

“So where is this tattoo of yours?”

She tilted her chin. “That’s my secret. No one knows where it is except me.”

“And the tattoo artist.”

“Of course.”

The seductive smile on Cassie’s face intrigued Troy. He imagined trying to find her tattoo, but the image overwhelmed him. He needed to cool off. “Would you like to get an ice cream?”

“Sure. There’s a place around the corner.”

The ice-cream parlor was almost empty except for a family of four sitting in the corner. Cassie ordered a scoop of Rocky Road and a scoop of Chocolate Fudge Brownie on a sugar cone. Troy settled for a scoop of vanilla in a cup.

“Do you want to eat it here?” he asked.

“Yes.” Cassie pointed to a round, marble table near the window. “I want to know about your day with my father.”

Troy grabbed four napkins, handing three of them to Cassie before he sat at the table. “We had a great time.”

“Details, Troy.”

He ate a spoonful of his delicious-looking ice cream. Cool and tasty, just what he needed to forget Cassie, who was hot and tasty. “Details, huh?”

She nodded. “Don’t leave anything out.”

“Let’s see, I lost the round so I bought lunch.”

Her eyes widened. “My father let you buy? Wow.”

Troy didn’t consider buying lunch a big deal. He’d insisted on buying, but didn’t tell her. “Dixon beat me, but he was upset over his score.”

“He has a four handicap.”

“Dixon said he was a hacker.”

A drop of chocolate dribbled from Cassie’s mouth. She licked her lips catching the chocolate with the pink tip of her tongue. “He plays at least three times a week.”

“I was had.” And Dixon wasn’t the only one trying to take him. Troy wondered if Cassie was trying to drive him crazy.

He took a bite of his ice cream. Although tasty, it didn’t do much to cool him down. Not with Cassie seductively licking her ice-cream cone, making him wonder what else she could be doing with her tongue. Talk about torture. He couldn’t wait until she finished eating it. He should have suggested getting a soda. Somehow being around Cassie sent his normally rational mind askew.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. You probably made his day.” She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “What else did you do?”

“We ate lunch at the lodge. Then Dixon gave me a tour. Surprise, surprise. We ended up in a large banquet room. He hinted it would be a nice place for a wedding reception.”

Although Dixon had been far from subtle in maneuvering him into the room, Troy had to give him credit. The elegant room with a hardwood dance floor and picture windows overlooking the golf course and the Pacific Ocean would be the perfect place for a wedding reception. Someday. When he found the right woman and was ready to get married. But not in the near future. Marriage wasn’t part of his near-term plan.

“So did the two of you select a date for the wedding and reserve the room?” Cassie sounded annoyed, but he found it hard to take her seriously with daisies painted on her cheek and chocolate on her upper lip.

“No, but your father thought April would be a good month.” Reaching over, Troy wiped her lip with his napkin. “You missed a spot.”

“Thanks.”

“I thought about what you said this morning,” he admitted. He’d thought about it, especially after Dixon mentioned an opening at his company. “I don’t buy the soul mates for eternity, but I think your parents are getting a little carried away.”

“I told you so.”

Troy deserved that, but she didn’t have to be so smug. “Can’t we share the blame? After all, we are in this together.”

“I suppose.” Cassie bit into the crunchy cone.

It wasn’t much, but it would do…for now.

“After Dixon showed me the room, I mentioned I wanted a traditional church wedding, but you wanted to get married in your bare feet at the beach and have a shaman perform the ceremony.”

“A shaman.” She chuckled. “I’m so proud of you, sweetie. I can’t believe you came up with that on your own.”

“I can be creative when called upon.”

“What did he say?”

Cassandra’s smile tugged at his heart. Troy realized her comparison of him to Eric Wainwright must have been due more to emotion and the moment than the truth. “Dixon said the beach might be difficult. Women in high heels. But he didn’t see a problem if you went barefoot.”

“My father said that?”

Troy nodded, not mentioning Dixon thought Cassie’s gown would cover her feet so it wouldn’t matter whether she wore shoes or not.

“What about the shaman?”

Troy laughed. “He didn’t see a problem with that, either.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“I wish I were.”

“Please tell me you said something else.”

“Well…”

She sighed. “Your sheepish grin tells me everything I need to know, Troy McKnight. Damn. You didn’t say a word.”

“Cassie—”

“You could’ve told my father I want you to quit your job and farm algae in Oregon.”

“Like he’d believe that,” Troy said. “I said all I could. I didn’t want to press the issue and be too obvious.”

“Why not?”

“We were having a good time.” Besides, he felt as though he owed it to Dixon, who had taught him more during eighteen holes of golf than in one of Troy’s business school classes. The career advice had been invaluable. “I didn’t want to spoil it”

“You.” Cassie threw one of her napkins at him. “You’re too nice.”

No, he wasn’t nice. If he were nice he wouldn’t be wishing he could have licked the chocolate off her face instead of wiping it off.

“Do you ever not play by the rules?” she asked.

“Not if I can help it.”

“Hopeless. You’re positively hopeless.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Go right ahead.”

He grinned. “What about you? How was your day?”

Cassie rubbed her temples and groaned. “My mother took me shopping for a wedding gown.”

Judging from her reaction, the shopping expedition did not go well. “Did you find anything you liked?”

“As a matter of fact, I—” She stopped herself, but she couldn’t stop the blush reddening her cheeks. “What are we doing? Before you know it, we’ll be married and have a baby on the way.”

The dire sound of her voice made his smile widen. Marriage and a baby were a bit much. Though he liked the concept of how babies were made. “I doubt that.”

She slammed her hands on the table. “We need to do something drastic.”

Troy’s gut tightened. Drastic to Cassie most likely had a different definition than what he was used to. She was an extremist; he was a middle-of-the-road kind of guy. “I don’t like the sound of drastic.”

“I’m not saying we stage a revolution, but something along those lines.” She tapped her fingertips on the table. “This is working out too well. My parents love you.”

And Troy liked her parents. “We’ve already been through this, Cassie. We’re halfway through the weekend. We’re almost there.”

She nodded. “But I didn’t realize they’d be so excited about the wedding. You admitted this was getting a little out of control.”

“Yes,” he said, thinking about the possibility of working for Dixon one day. The job and Cassie would be a package deal. A package he couldn’t begin to consider.

“I know you’re worried about your career, but we can’t forget about my sanity.”

“I know.”

Time for a reality check. Troy needed Cassie more than she needed him. Her parents’ meddling was one thing, but his livelihood was on the line.

“This isn’t easy, but we only have twenty-four more hours to go. We can get through this if we do it together.” Her hesitation worried him. “Twenty-four more hours, Cassie. Think you can make it?”

“Yes,” she said. “It’s just…Oh, no.”

“What?”

Her voice softened to a whisper. “Hold my hand and gaze lovingly into my eyes.”

Troy assumed Cassie had a logical explanation for the sudden change. Until she lifted his hand and kissed each of his fingers. Obviously, she’d lost her mind. He pulled his hand away, but she held it tighter. “What are you—”

“PDA in an ice-cream parlor,” a female voice crooned, interrupting him. Troy turned. Emily led a frowning Eric to the table. “I can understand such a public display of affection from my sister, but Troy, really. I thought you were above that.”

Cassie tightened her grip on his hand, then released it. “What are you doing here?”

“We were shopping and saw you in the window. I’m sure the entire village has been watching you.”

The air filled with tension and did not feel sisterly. Cassie straightened in her chair. “I meant, why are you in Carmel?”

“Didn’t mother tell you? I guess not from the expression on your face.” Emily’s tittering laughter filled the ice cream parlor. “Guess who’s coming to dinner?”

To Cassandra’s amazement, everyone behaved themselves at dinner. It reminded her of a meeting between warring nations trying to negotiate a peace treaty. No one wanted to say anything to offend the others so nothing interesting was said.

Her mother cooked a delicious prime rib, but Cassandra had a difficult time enjoying the food. With Emily and Eric monopolizing the conversation with their house hunting woes, Cassandra had too much time to think and daydream about Troy.

She pictured him standing in front of a flower-filled church waiting for her to walk down the aisle. Except for the flowers and bare feet, everything was wrong with the picture. It wasn’t simply that Troy was wrong for her—he was—but so was the entire wedding picture.

She’d given up on love. She couldn’t afford to love. Seeing Emily and Eric brought back the pain of finding them together in her apartment.

In her bed.

That was all Cassandra needed to remember. Love equaled hurt. With that in mind, it was easy to control her emotions.

Until she looked at Troy. Then she swallowed hard and reminded herself she didn’t feel anything for him. Except…

The day of golfing in the sunshine had turned Troy’s face a golden tan. The plaid of his oxford shirt intensified the striking blue of his eyes. He got more gorgeous by the minute. And that bothered the hell out of her.

She couldn’t afford to think of Troy as anything other than her pretend fiancé, her fake fiancé. Anything more, she didn’t want to deal with, wouldn’t deal with. As soon as the weekend was over, she would be free. Free of her parents, free of Troy. But until then, she had to be one half of the perfect couple they’d created, one half of a lie.

After dinner, Cassandra followed everyone as they retreated into the living room to let their food digest and make room for dessert—devil’s food cake.

One big happy family. Emily and Eric sat on one couch. Cassandra and Troy sat on the other. Dixon and Vanessa sat on chairs in the middle, playing referee and ensuring fair play.

Show time. Mindful of her sister’s watchful eyes, Cassandra nestled against Troy. Leave it to Emily to decide something wasn’t right with the engagement. Her hints and innuendos had been less than subtle, but Emily would find only a happy, content engaged couple tonight.

As Troy draped his arm around her shoulder, Cassandra had trouble breathing. Her heart pounded so loudly; she glanced up at him to see if he’d noticed. She didn’t think he had. His breathing was steady, and she could barely feel his heart beating against her shoulder. The fact he remained so calm as he played havoc with her vital signs irritated her. She wished Troy could share in her misery.

Dixon poured brandy into crystal snifters. “So have you decided about the dress, Cassie?”

The dress. Perfect, yes. But she didn’t need another wedding gown. Come tomorrow night, she would no longer have a fiancé. “Not yet, Dad.”

“I heard it looks beautiful.”

Troy kissed her cheek. “A flour sack would look beautiful on Cassie.”

The line was old and hackneyed, but the way Troy said it made Cassandra’s cheeks grow warm. If only she didn’t care what he said, but she did.

“There’s no comparison between the gown and a flour sack. It’s perfect and you know it, Cassandra.” Vanessa left no doubt about her opinion. “Do you want me to call Ginger and tell her to order it?”

“I don’t know, Mom.” Cassandra’s gaze lingered on Troy’s smile. Those full lips…She would give up ice cream for a year for another taste of him. No matter how hard she tried to forget about his kiss, she couldn’t. And it bugged her, immensely. Remember, only twenty-four more hours to go. “The dress would be great for spring or summer, but not for a winter wedding.”

Vanessa smiled. “Do you have any idea when you’d like to get married?”

“June’s a good month,” Emily suggested.

Eric nodded his approval. “Very traditional, too. Though you’ll have to reserve a place right away. All of the best sites get booked early.”

Troy gave Cassandra a soft squeeze. “I’ve been busy at work so we haven’t had time to think about the wedding.”

And we wouldn’t have the time. Come Sunday night, this charade was over. She would wait a couple of weeks, then tell her parents the engagement was off. The reason could be anything from his long hours at work to a fight about where to live to the differences in their life-styles. A perfect plan. As long as she made it through tonight and tomorrow. “Once Troy’s job settles down, we’ll be able to set a date. We aren’t in a rush, are we, honey?” Cassandra emphasized the endearment.

“As long as I know you’ll marry me one of these days, pumpkin.”

“Honey and pumpkin.” Emily grimaced. “How sweet.”

Eric looked a little green. “Would you like to go, dear?”

“Be quiet,” Emily snapped.

Dixon cleared his throat. “At least we’ll have time to prepare a decent prenuptial agreement. I hope this won’t be a problem, Troy.”

“No problem at all.”

“Well, I have a problem with it.” Cassandra resisted the urge to stand and put her hands on her hips.

“I knew this was coming,” Emily said, not so subtly, to Eric.

Dixon took a sip of brandy. “Cassie, sweetheart, I think a prenuptial agreement is something you should consider.”

“Not on your life.” Cassandra didn’t understand why everything had to revolve around money. She only wanted to be happy. She knew firsthand money couldn’t ensure happiness. “It’s a marriage, not a business deal.”

Dixon finished his snifter of brandy. “Whatever you decide is fine, but at least consider it.”

“She will,” Troy said, stopping her from saying any more.

“I’m just so excited about your engagement,” Dixon admitted. “I only hope we don’t have to wait too long for the upcoming nuptials. I can’t wait to walk you down the aisle. As I did with your sister.”

Hello. Who was this man she called father? “Daddy, you’re the one who cautioned me about rushing into things. Troy’s work schedule is giving us a chance to get to know one another better. It’s what you wanted.”

“Well, I’ve changed my mind,” Dixon said, surprising Cassandra even more. “I had my doubts at first, but it’s obvious you belong together. The twinkle is back in your eyes, sweetheart. I think it has something to do with Troy, and I’m sure you agree with me, too.”

Cassandra looked at Vanessa. Her mother made a point of saying young people always rushed into marriage without thinking. She would cite the latest divorce statistics and rest her case. Surely she would support her. “Mother—”

“I agree with your father, Cassandra,” Vanessa said. “No sense having a one- or two-year engagement. Nothing but a waste of time, in my opinion.”

Cassandra was running out of supporters. “Emily. What do you think?”

Emily smiled, a charming smile others might call fake and plastic, but Cassandra knew better. Her sister couldn’t help being a snob. “Why wait? I think you are one of the cutest couples I’ve ever seen. In fact, we want to throw an engagement party for you. Isn’t that right, Eric?”

His eyes widened. “Yes. We’d, uh, love to throw you an engagement party.”

“How does two weeks from tonight sound?” Emily asked.

“Sounds good to me,” Dixon said. “This is a wonderful idea. I know several people I’d like Troy to meet.”

Vanessa sighed. “Why don’t you see what Cassandra and Troy think about it first?”

Caught off guard by the offer, Cassandra didn’t know what to say. Part of her was touched. The other part wondered what Emily had up her sleeve. The wary side won out. “That’s sweet of you, but I know how busy you both are.”

“Think nothing of it, you’re my little sister. I’ve hardly seen you since I got married.”

Cassandra wanted to believe the sincerity in her sister’s voice, but this was Emily speaking. “I appreciate the offer—”

Emily wasn’t listening to her, as usual. “Troy, what do you think? Are you ready to show off your blushing bride-to-be? We were at a gallery opening last night and ran into a couple of your colleagues. None of them knew about your engagement.”

Troy tensed. So did Cassandra. She sat stunned, waiting for Emily to drop the bomb about the make-believe engagement.

“My sister might not be the epitome of class and style, but don’t tell me you’re ashamed of her, Troy.”

Reprieve. No bombshell, yet.

“Emily,” Dixon warned.

Ignore her comment and say no. Just say no. Cassandra crossed her fingers.

“Two weeks from tonight sounds great,” Troy said.

Damn. So much for her fiancé for the weekend. This gig had been extended. By two weeks. She’d kill him. She’d kill her fiancé, then her sister. No jury would convict her. Not after they heard the evidence.

Emily’s smile widened. “Believe me, the pleasure will be all mine. I can’t wait to show off my sister and her handsome V.C. fiancé. No one is going to believe it.”

“This is going to be so much fun. An engagement party, a bridal shower, a wedding. I can’t wait.” Vanessa stood. “I’ll go get the cake.”

Cassandra didn’t want a piece of cake, even if it was chocolate. She wanted to show her parents she and Troy did not belong together, that they mustn’t have an engagement party thrown in their honor.

The nonstop clink of crystal interrupted her worrying. Emily tapped her glass against Eric’s. “Go on and kiss.”

“Excuse me?” Cassandra asked, wondering if her sister had finally gone over the deep end.

“When people tap their glasses, you’re supposed to kiss,” Eric said. “Don’t you remember at our wedding? After a few times, you get used to the attention and can enjoy the kisses.”

“That’s only at weddings,” Troy countered much to Cassandra’s delight.

Dixon laughed. “I don’t think any of us are going to protest.”

Troy gave her a peck on the cheek.

“You call that a kiss?” Dixon drew his bushy brows together. Emily and Eric continued making the irritating noise.

Troy gave Cassandra a sheepish grin. The devilish gleam in his eyes told her this wasn’t going to be a simple peck.

No way. This wasn’t going to happen. This wasn’t real. Cassandra grabbed the edge of the sofa for support.

Troy gave her another kiss—a kiss smack dab on the lips that curled her toes and left her breathless.

How dare he? She clenched her teeth. First the engagement party, now the kiss. She would get even, make him pay.

“Now.” Dixon smiled like a proud papa. “Who’s ready for some cake?”