Mike replayed the unbelievable scene in his head as he walked into the restaurant bar area, still too stunned to speak.
Devon—his sister’s best friend, who he’d recognized right away in spite of the confusion surrounding them—had called him her fiancée.
That was weird, not to mention awkward. Yet Mike couldn’t help wondering why she was so angry.
Wearing a white tank top with a lace bra strap peeking out on her right shoulder, she looked gorgeous in her fury. Her high-waist linen pants fit her just right, and the low-heeled sandals weren’t quite as sexy as three-inchers might have been, but he liked her pink painted toenails, which matched her sun-kissed cheeks. Her brown hair was tied in a rough ponytail with loose strands floating around her head.
But what was up with her calling him babe?
Mike’s brain was still having trouble working out what was going on. He didn’t need a soothsayer to tell him Devon was trying to pull off a prank again. She had sounded and looked so confident, with that smile lighting up her vibrant, virtually makeup-free face.
Over the years he’d become aware of Devon’s mischievous side.
The first time was when Kayla came up with a scheme to travel to Denver for the holidays. The details of the moment were so vivid that they could have happened yesterday.
His mom was sitting beside Kayla on the ugly couch she had someone reupholster the year before, but the bright pink-and-yellow pattern did nothing to improve the room’s decor. It was November, and he’d taken a vacation from his management trainee job. Kayla was home for the school break.
“Why do you need to be in Denver for Thanksgiving?” his mom had asked.
“I already told you,” Kayla said with the little pout that worked on his parents like a charm. “It’s for a school project. You can ask Devon.”
Kayla’s whiny tone was like listening to a constantly crying baby. The drama continued to unfold while he pretended to work on his laptop, doing his best to stay out of the fray.
“Hey, everyone.” Devon walked into the living room, set her backpack on the floor, and took a seat across from Kayla.
“Good evening, dear,” his mom replied with warm welcome. “Tell me about this project you and my daughter are working on.”
“You know, Dev. The project in Denver.”
Kayla kept her tone so cotton-candy sweet it almost made Mike gag.
Devon’s confusion disappeared in a flash. The conspiracy was so obvious, but his mom seemed to miss it.
“Oh…yes, the project. The school’s newspaper is adding a special vacation column, and”—Devon’s brows were almost up to her hairline at that point—“Kayla wants to become the editor for the newspaper. If they select her article for this new column, she’ll get the open paid position. Having firsthand experience of Denver’s landscape and cultural scene will be a big help and make her column stand out.”
Mike had to cover his mouth so his mother wouldn’t see him smirking.
He had to admit, Devon was quick to come up with a mighty persuasive argument.
His mother turned back to his sister. “You are over eighteen and a grown woman, Kayla. You must make your own choices, but I will worry if your studies slide. I’ll pay for your travel this weekend, but you’ll need to fund your spring break. Deal?”
“Deal!” Kayla launched herself at their mom, giving her a giant hug. “Love you.”
The sappy endearments and the devious plan were not what interested Mike. It was Devon’s reaction that won his affections. First was the satisfaction of winning the trip for Kayla, which slid into something that almost looked like envy. His dad had mentioned something about Devon’s unfortunate family situation once, but looking at the confident woman sitting in the chair across the room, no one would guess she had family problems.
“Love you too, honey.” Mom picked up the television remote and was quickly immersed in her program again.
Kayla and Devon nudged each other and giggled as they walked toward the kitchen. Mike resisted the urge to follow them…for all of two seconds. Their cooked-up story didn’t add up.
“Have you called him yet?” Devon asked Kayla as Mike neared the kitchen doorway.
“Not yet, but I will soon. This trip to Denver is going to be special. You’ll see.” Kayla’s voice vibrated with gleeful anticipation. “Thanks for always having my back.”
“No problem. Promise me you’ll be safe.”
“When have I not been careful?” Kayla’s attempt to sound innocent sounded more sarcastic than anything.
“When you forced your way into the football team captain’s room.”
“I needed to ask the quarterback an important question,” Kayla replied.
“Really? He was naked!”
The suppressed laughter in Devon’s tone was almost identical to his sister’s. He imagined his sister busting into some dude’s room and finding his nakedness funny. She’d done it enough times to him.
“And, what about the time you almost got yourself removed from the school’s paper because you published your story about a girl cheating on her boyfriend without hiding her identity?”
“That story was my best one yet. It was real, and she had no right to cheat. Her boyfriend was a good guy,” Kayla replied.
“You have no right to invade people’s personal lives,” Devon said.
“Yeah, but you helped me figure a way out of the trouble. You are the best problem-solver. It’s what makes us perfect friends. I create the problems and you solve them.”
“And what fresh trouble is brewing in Denver?” Mike asked, stepping into the kitchen and hoping he wasn’t going to end up being pulled into another of his sister’s schemes.
“Why would you ask that?” Kayla protested louder than she should have if she were innocent of scheming.
“You should tell him, Kay-K. You’ve always trusted your brother. Mike won’t snitch on us.”
Devon’s words held such conviction, Mike almost believed them himself.
Kayla elbow-bumped him. “Please don’t tell Mom, but Brandon and I plan to spend the holiday together. He’s already booked tickets for Denver, but I assumed all along that he’d back out. It’s why this is all last minute. I’m guessing he might be planning to ask me to marry him.”
Mike had checked Brandon out when he first started dating his sister in high school. The computer geek was a good dude and treated his sister well, but that didn’t mean he liked her lying to their parents. “I hope this doesn’t blow up in your face. And you, do not end up pregnant.” He gave Kayla a stern stare.
“Mike!” Kayla glared.
“Don’t worry. Kayla will be texting me every ten minutes,” Devon said. “I’ll know if something goes wrong.”
After the Denver debacle, Mike began to notice Devon during summer and winter family get-togethers. The round face with a radiant smile, hazel eyes, arched eyebrows, and a small nose—along with her five-six height—made her appear naïve, cute, and pure. But those innocent features were deceptive and challenged him to stay on his toes around her.
His sister had always spoken highly of Devon, never sparing Mike’s ears a moment of silence as she went on and on about how perfect her roommate was. Devon never seemed to fall short. Kayla attributed her success in school to Devon’s constant reminders to study rather than party. Little wonder his parents were so relaxed about the friendship between the beauty and Kayla. After college, Devon remained Kayla’s true best friend.
Even Mike was jealous of their closeness.
Friendship of their kind was rare. He’d never found a friend as loyal as Devon—not even close. Then again, he always had far more important things to do. He had plans. Big plans. He was going to change lives. He didn’t have time to date. Plus, after his two failed attempts at a serious relationship, he decided it was time to focus a hundred percent on his business. Period. When his company made it onto the top one thousand stocks list, maybe he’d search for a wife and give his parents the grandkids they hoped for.
And for that goal-defining reason, Mike played along with Devon’s scheme. Her little charade seemed innocent and logical enough to get him out of the already-suffocating crowd, and it seemed to work like magic. Paparazzi no longer followed him, and women wouldn’t be wrapping their arms around him or hailing him from across the room or even from outside the reception area windows. He was free. Free to enjoy being with his sister and family for once.
He stopped beside a lounge area and pointed to an oversized stuffed leather chair. Devon sank into the brown leather.
“Thanks for what you did back there.” Mike took the chair opposite her, with a table in between. “It was an interesting solution. Over the top, but it worked.”
“It was the only thing I could come up with. I’m thankful you played along. The plan could have backfired.”
“I mean it, Devon. I truly appreciate it. It’s been a tough week at work, and the last thing I need is to be hassled by clingy, nosy strangers. I was hoping this week would be devoted to catching up with family, plus a few hours of relaxation and rejuvenation.”
She grinned, revealing that lively set of dimples on both cheeks and giving him a warm sense of satisfaction. A sensation he hadn’t experienced in a very long time.
She leaned closer. “How’s your newest intra-operative digital imaging device coming?”
His gut tightened as he looked at her. “That information isn’t public yet. How did you hear about it?”
“Kayla told me.”
“That loudmouth sister of mine. The project isn’t going well. We’ve already been forced to push back the launch schedule once.” He skipped the details since most women he knew found business-related topics boring.
“When Kayla told me what you were doing, I wondered why you would create another device that performs the same function as its counterparts. I mean, you already have several devices patented in the same functional range. Why make another one?”
For a second his breathing stopped. The question was insightful and strategic. Normally he wouldn’t have answered, but since she clearly was interested, he wanted to indulge her. “I’m assuming you’re aware of robotic surgical devices.”
“I am.”
“Good. What I’m working on will help robot-assisted surgeons perform many types of complex procedures with more precision, flexibility, and control than is possible with conventional techniques. But my guess is you already know this.”
“I do.”
“I’m working on a minimally invasive surgery device, one that’s compatible with our other line of products. The new associated device supports a procedure requiring two to three tiny incisions, making the healing process much faster. This technology is already available, but my device is an improvement over what’s already on the market. Am I making sense?”
“You are.”
A soft melody oozed from the bar speakers, but he barely heard the song, he was so mesmerized by her interest in his work.
“Sounds amazing, Mike. If I understand you correctly, the imaging and robotic systems combine surgical planning, simulation, training, and navigation platforms.”
The excitement in her voice triggered an explosion of energy shooting to his fingers and toes. He nodded as a deeply satisfying feeling of accomplishment surged through him.
An olive-skinned server approached and gestured with his free hand to the half coconuts on his tray, each with a skewer of fresh fruit and an orchid. “Hello, sir and madam. May I interest you in today’s cocktail special? It’s a Jamaican Planter’s Punch, made with light rum, a squeeze of fresh lemon, and a splash of orange juice, served in a freshly halved coconut.”
“Yes, please.” Devon waited for the server to set down the drink before retrieving the freshly-picked orchid and tucking it behind her ear. She then picked up the long toothpick of fresh sliced fruit from the halved coconut and tugged the strawberry off with her teeth while slipping off her shoes. From her pants pocket, she reached for a five-dollar bill and handed it to the man. “For your troubles.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He bowed his head an inch. “And you, sir?”
“Oh, no. No thank you.”
The server nodded and walked away.
“I’m surprised you know so much about digital imaging and robotic surgery,” Mike said to Devon.
She eased back into the chair again, a spark of laughter brightening her eyes. Obviously she was finding what he said funny. He didn’t like being laughed at, but right now he was too curious about Devon to take offense.
“Okay, I should fess up. I work as a design engineer for a company that produces prosthetic implants. While we aren’t in exactly the same field, it’s similar enough that I run across articles you’ve written from time to time. It’s interesting stuff. You work on the surgical side of things, and I work to develop the artificial devices to replace missing body parts.”
“A design engineer. Interesting.” He mentally erased his built-in “design engineer” bias.
His design engineers wore glasses, ate pizza every day for lunch, and forgot to shave—or shower—most of the time. No one on his staff looked like Devon. And although he would have loved to have a few more women on board, he hadn’t found a qualified candidate yet.
“Why is my background interesting?” She lifted her brow as she sipped the “hotel special” from the coconut-half-shaped glass. “Can’t picture me as an engineer?”
“For some reason, all this time I’ve assumed you were an English literature or journalism major.
“Kayla’s the English major.”
Heat brushed up his cheek. “I know she is, but seeing as you two are best friends and all, I just assumed. Plus, you were always studying together.”
“I was trying to get Kayla to study. There’s a difference. She always had trouble with math.”
“Tell me about it. Mom used to make me sit at the kitchen table and run through flash cards with Kayla. Twenty minutes every night. She drove me crazy. She’d remember the answer one night and forget it the next.” He shook his head. “Bioengineering requires lots of math skills and is a fascinating field. There are so many job options.”
“Agreed, but I always knew I wanted to work with those who had lost limbs.” She shrugged. “I love seeing the videos my marketing department puts together of real-life recipients using our new products. It’s nice to see the joy on their faces when they can move freely again.”
“Exactly.” His gaze was still locked on her.
“You’ve been busy over the past few years.” Devon slid a piece of pineapple off the skewer from her drink. “I saw that you hit the ‘ones to watch under forty’ list. Seeing your face and name with all those other distinguished people must have felt good.”
“It was pretty cool, I must admit.”
There was that spark in her eye, the one that implied that no one would ever stop Devon Gaines from getting what she wanted. Nothing. “Maybe you’ll be on the list someday.”
“That’s my goal.”
He enjoyed her outward confidence. She wore it well. It was feminine but not soft. He got the sense she would accomplish whatever she set her mind to. She was like him—focused—and he liked that.
“I’d better go find Kayla,” she said abruptly.
“Why?” Mike asked, not yet willing to let her get away. “Knowing Kayla, I’m sure she’s arguing with the florist over the arrangements.”
“That’s why I must go,” she replied with a fun, quirky smile. “Besides, she’ll want to know she doesn’t have to worry about you anymore.”
“Me? Why would she worry about me?” Confusion ramped up his stress, tightening his shoulders and pinching his neck muscles.
“Gee…let me think… You were the one out by the pool with a gazillion women hanging on you. Those women looked like they wanted to have you for an afternoon snack.” Her gaze locked onto him, as if she dared him to deny it.
A light energy floated up from his chest and forced a smile into place. This Devon, the one standing in front of him, was different from his sister’s college roommate. Having a wedding partner for the weekend who wasn’t boring or irritating might be the perfect solution. Her beauty was a bonus.
But he wondered if she’d had time at the pool to fully think through her solution. “You do realize those camera guys will have splashed your face all over the Internet by now. They probably already have your name and address and are trying to figure out where you work and how we know each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve pulled your college transcripts already.”
Her eyes widened.
Apparently she was a brilliant engineer, but she hadn’t considered the effect this game of hers might have on Kayla and the rest of the family. He doubted she would want to be seen as a gold-digger, but that’s what the media would spin. They would upload a story suggesting Devon came from some small town in Iowa, and how she’d befriended his sister just to weasel her way into his family. None of it would be true, but the public would digest every word as fact. His company lawyers would have a field day with this, bitching when he asked them to file another liability suit.
“Here’s the deal,” he said. “I’ll clear the air with Kayla, but we’ll have to act like we’re engaged for the duration of the wedding.”
“For the entire wedding?” She shifted in the chair. “Maybe I should go tell Kayla what happened.”
“Kayla is most likely up to her eyeballs in wedding details and doesn’t need one more thing on her plate. I’m sure you agree.” He drove his point home and eased the way for him to legitimately spend time with her. He wanted to get acquainted…and discover why she’d decided to pose as his fiancée when, just off the top of his head, he could think of a dozen alternatives.
“Of course I don’t want to upset anyone. But what will your mom and dad have to say?”
“I’ll let my family in on the ruse, but no one else needs to hear about this. The press is not an issue that needs to be addressed right now.”
Devon released a deep sigh and bit her lip, riveting his attention. He was mesmerized by her unconscious expression and wondered what kissing the sexy, smart, playful Devon would be like.
Whoa. Where did that come from?
Devon was his sister’s best friend. He’d promised gumdrop he’d never date one of her friends. And he hadn’t. But he made that promise a long time ago, so it was possible Kayla had changed her mind by now. Besides, now that he’d seen her in this new light, he had to wonder how any man could possibly keep his hands off a beauty like Devon.
Sure, she’d always hung around the house, but inevitably he’d end up in his room working most of the time he was home. He’d missed those sensual curves she developed, forever hidden under her endless collection of baggy college sweat suits.
“What if they don’t support this idea?” Her angelic voice floated the question toward him.
“I’ll handle my family. What you need to do is play along. This was your idea, remember?”
A frown deepened the creases on Devon’s forehead. “I wish there were a better option.”
“There are other options, but this one is the only option you have that’s going to save you from future embarrassment. After the wedding, I’ll call off the engagement. The press will find it believable since I’m already seen as a coldhearted workaholic.” He maintained eye contact to drive his point further and deeper.
“Okay. I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend till after the wedding.”
“Not girlfriend,” he emphasized, not giving her any wiggle room. “Fiancée.”
“Whatever you choose to call this, the game ends as soon as Kayla tosses the bouquet.”
“What are you so worried about? Think of it this way. You’ll at least have a dinner and dance partner for the weekend.”
“True.” She nibbled on her lip again.
“If you truly don’t like the idea”—he stood—“I can tell the press now and risk them ruining Kayla’s wedding.”
“No! Please don’t.” She held out her hands to stop him. “Kayla doesn’t deserve to pay for my mistake,” she begged.
“Okay, then,” he replied, his body already anticipating the events of the weekend he was dreading…until Devon made her big announcement in front of the gold-diggers and paparazzi.