“You really saved my life tonight.”

Jane’s cheeks flushed. “I don’t think that’s true.”

Trey took her hand in his. “It’s true and I won’t forget it. But at the moment I’m more concerned about what it will take to convince my secretary to be my fiancée for just a little bit longer.”

Tiny shivers ran up Jane’s bare arms, though whether it was from his touch or his proposition, she couldn’t say. “You could just try asking her.”

“Would you be my fiancée, Jane?”

Elizabeth Harbison has been an avid reader for as long as she can remember. After devouring the Nancy Drew and Trixie Beldon series in school, she moved on to the suspense of Mary Stewart, Dorothy Eden and Daphne du Maurier, just to name a few. From there it was a natural progression to writing, although early efforts have been securely hidden away in the back of a wardrobe. Elizabeth lives in Maryland with her husband, John, and daughter Mary Paige, as well as two dogs, Bailey and Zuzu. She loves to hear from readers and you can write to her c/o Box 1636, Germantown, MD 20875, USA.

Recent titles by the same author:

EMMA AND THE EARL

Plain Jane Marries the Boss
Elizabeth Harbison

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Epilogue

Chapter One

He entered the office humming. Humming! After all the stress he’d been under in the past couple of months, the pensive silences and long hours burning the midnight oil? Jane Miller couldn’t have been more surprised if her boss had carried a lamp post to swing himself around.

“Tonight’s the night, Jane.” He smiled broadly. She loved his teeth. Even, white teeth, made more charming by a slight crookedness in his smile.

In his French-tailored charcoal-gray suit, which Jane had noticed long ago picked up a light in his gray eyes and made his glossy dark hair look as black as pitch, he looked every inch the distinguished executive. Terrence Breckenridge III. Not many people were regal enough to carry such a name, but it fit Trey like a fine leather glove.

Most of the people in the offices of Breckenridge Construction said he should be a movie star. Jane agreed that he had the looks and the charisma to draw millions of fans, but she also knew he would never be interested in that sort of fame. Fortune, yes, but fame, no. He was too private for that. It was one of the things that attracted her the most about him during the five years she’d worked as his administrative assistant.

“Tonight’s the night,” he said again, and reached down to pull her out of her chair, whirling her around in what was probably a good imitation of Fred Astaire dancing with a coat rack.

“I—I have an important message for you,” Jane said stiffly, fixing her glasses and trying to regain her balance. Truthfully, though, her wobbly knees had more to do with his proximity than the fact that he was whirling her around the floor like a top.

“A message.” He pulled her close, as if to begin a tango. He smelled wonderful, she noticed—clean as spring but with a vague hint of sultry autumn—and the warmth of his body aligned with hers made her dizzy with excitement. “What’s the message?” he asked dramatically. He was joking with her but his mouth was so close to her ear that his low voice sent tremors down her spine.

She pulled away gracelessly, afraid that if she didn’t get some distance quickly she might try to get closer and make a real fool of herself. “One if by land, two if by sea,” she said with a smile, but her voice was thin with nerves. She smoothed back strands of her long auburn hair which had come loose from the heavy braid she wore down her back.

He clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Really, Jane, you’re going to have to start getting my messages to me sooner. That one’s already in the history books.” He smiled again and cocked his head toward his office. “Come on in, and have some coffee.”

She took a steno pad and pen off her desk. “As long as I bring it myself with a cup for you too, right?”

“Isn’t that part of a secretary’s job?”

“Administrative assistant.”

He lifted an eyebrow persuasively. “Girl friday?”

“Administrative assistant,” she said again, but she couldn’t help smiling.

“Ah.” He nodded. “In that case, can I get you a cup of coffee?” He started toward the machine across the room. “How do you take it? Just cream?”

A flush of pleasure washed over her. He knew how she liked her coffee. That tiny fact made her feel almost giddy. Immediately, she pushed the feeling away, remembering what she had to tell him. She glanced at her desk, at the While You Were Out…message pad. Dread niggled in the back of her mind. She wasn’t sure how he’d feel about this.

As well as she knew him, as thoroughly as she could predict his reactions in business, she had never been able to figure out his emotions or private life. Heaven knew she’d tried.

He was humming again. She hated to stop him, but there was no time to waste.

“Trey, seriously, I have a message for you.” She swallowed. “From Victoria.”

He stopped and was very still. Without turning around, he said, “Don’t tell me she’s canceling,” in a tone that suggested this would be a major calamity.

Jane fought the disappointment she felt at the fact that he cared so much. Thanks to the sheen of nervous perspiration on her face, her glasses slipped down the bridge of her nose and she pushed them back hastily.

He turned to face her and she knew she must be a terrible sight compared with the mental picture of Victoria he undoubtedly had right now. “Look, Trey, why don’t we go into your office so I can explain?”

“Tell me she’s not canceling on me tonight,” he repeated, the blood draining from his handsome face in an almost cartoon-like fashion.

Her heart beat a furious rhythm. She couldn’t believe she had to say this to him. She heaved a shuddering breath. Five years. For five years, nearly six, she’d wanted nothing more than to be with Trey, romantically. Not only had that not even come close to happening, but now she had to break up with him for someone else! “I’m afraid it’s worse than that.” She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. Just say it, she told herself. Get it over with. “She’s…she’s getting married.”

Trey stared at her in apparent disbelief.

“To someone else,” Jane added, unnecessarily.

“What, tonight?” Trey said at last. His tone was steeped in incredulity. “She’s getting married tonight?”

“Yes.” Jane took a steadying breath. Trey and Victoria had been going out together for exactly six months, one week and three days. Surely he had had an idea that there was someone else in Victoria’s life. “She said to tell you that someone named Bill had finally asked her and she wasn’t taking any chances by waiting and letting him change his mind.”

He raked a hand through his hair. “She’s waited three years for this guy—couldn’t she wait one more night?”

“You know about him?”

“Of course. Bill Lindon from Cosbot Technologies. Very big fish in a big ocean.” He gave a dry laugh. “She’ll make a good socialite.” His face darkened. “Which was exactly what I wanted her to do tonight.”

Jane’s heart, which had been pounding furiously, suddenly seemed to stop. “What do you mean? You’re not upset that she’s getting married, just that she’s doing it tonight?” Her heart rose. That she should feel hopeful at the idea that he didn’t love Victoria was as silly as a teenager being hopeful that a rock star was available. But she was hopeful nevertheless.

“Why should I be upset that she’s getting married?”

Jane frowned. “Because she’s your…aren’t you two…” She took a breath. “I just thought you two were an item.”

His expression lifted momentarily. “An item?” He gave a laugh. “I don’t think either one of us has time for that sort of thing.” He hesitated. “At least, I don’t.”

“Then you’re not involved?” The words came out in a rush and she instantly regretted being so transparent.

He looked at her with a puzzled expression on his face. “No. She was an actress, trying to get herself known in the same circles I have to socialize with now and then. We just went out together sometimes when the occasion called for couples. Served us both well, although she’s benefitting more than I am at the moment.”

Jane couldn’t help smiling broadly. He was free. Her pulse raced. There was no woman in his life at all. “Then don’t you find it romantic that she’s running off to get married?”

Trey gave a derisive snort. “Romantic for her, maybe, but damned inconvenient for me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I was planning on taking her to dinner tonight. I was counting on it. What am I going to do now?” He turned to walk toward his office, dazed.

Jane followed at a careful distance. As well as she knew him, she didn’t understand this reaction at all. “Couldn’t you take someone else to dinner instead?”

He turned and looked at her with a helpless expression that she’d never seen on his face before. “Where am I going to find someone to say she’ll marry me at the last minute?” He walked to his desk and flopped into his mahogany leather chair looking so much like a discouraged child that Jane felt the urge to wrap her arms around him.

“Marry you,” she said in a rush of breath. She sat down opposite him and tried to keep her face from showing the devastation—not to mention confusion—she felt inside. “I don’t get it. You were planning on marrying Victoria?”

He looked at her blankly. “I wasn’t really going to marry her.”

“But you just said…”

“Nah, we were just going to say that.” He tipped the Ocean in a Box on his desk and watched the waves swell left and right. “I just needed to create that illusion. Just for tonight.”

Jane pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off a rapidly impending headache. “Why?”

“My father is in town briefly and I think he’s ready to sign over his shares of the company to me, if he believes I’m settling down into family life. When he does,” he held his arms out expansively, “I will finally have a controlling interest in this company.”

“You ought to,” Jane agreed. Trey had taken Breckenridge Construction from being a small-time contractor to being the most prestigious construction and building renovation company in Dallas. Maybe even in all of Texas. “But is it really all that urgent for you to hold control of the company? It’s just on paper, after all.”

“That’s the point. It’s not just on paper. If my father keeps putting the kibosh on jobs he doesn’t approve of, you know what we’ll be?”

“No, what?”

“The biggest school playground builders in Dallas. That is, until we go broke. Which wouldn’t take long.”

“But we’ve got the Davenport contract. That’s worth millions.”

“Exactly.” Trey jabbed a finger in the air. “If my father gets wind of that contract he’ll vote it down in a heartbeat.”

“He doesn’t know about it?”

Trey gave a dry laugh. “No way. The Davenport hotel chain was started by a man who was a staunch supporter of a political candidate my father couldn’t stand.”

“Does that matter?”

“It shouldn’t. But my father and Gutterson nearly came to blows over politics twice that I can remember. For twenty-five years now my father has refused to have anything to do with the company, even though Gutterson himself is long gone.”

“I see.”

“So we’re walking a tightrope. My father’s here for three days, during which time he has to not hear about the Davenport contract and sign the controlling shares of the company over to me.”

Jane nodded. “But I don’t quite understand what being a family man has to do with running the company.”

She was almost sure his expression softened when he looked at her. “Neither do I, but those are his conditions. He’s always had this weird thing about wanting me to settle down and, as he says, get my priorities straight before taking on the whole company.”

She didn’t think that was so weird, but decided it would be best if she didn’t say so.

“So I sort of led him to believe that I was in a serious relationship, headed straight for the altar.” He absently touched the ring finger on his left hand.

“Ah, I see.” Finally she was beginning to understand. Victoria was an actress. She wasn’t really Trey’s girlfriend, but she played the role as part of an agreement between them. In a strange sort of way it made sense. It certainly explained why they had so often asked Jane to get Victoria on the phone at the last minute when an event came up. It also explained why he usually had Jane arrange for a car to pick Victoria up and take her wherever it was they were going, rather than picking her up himself.

How ironic that Trey had asked someone else to play the role of girlfriend for him when Jane wanted the job so desperately herself. But he couldn’t see that. And she couldn’t show it.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” she asked, instinctively raising a hand to her face.

“Like I’m the devil himself.”

“I wasn’t.”

“You know, I do have the company’s best interest at heart here.” He shrugged. “It was a harmless lie, good for my father, good for me and good for the company.”

“Everyone wins?”

“Exactly. You do realize that if we keep going the way we are, with no solid leadership, we’re going to have to do some downsizing? That means people will lose their jobs. I could prevent that, if I had control.”

“Can’t you just buy more shares yourself?”

He shook his head. “I’ve done everything I could to get more shares, and our other investors, at least the ones I can identify, just aren’t budging.”

Jane began to calculate the worth of her own shares, then stopped. It wasn’t even close to what he would need. She was saving for her eventual retirement, so her interest was based on the forty-year savings plan, not controlling shares. “But if your father is willing to sign over his shares—”

“That’s just it. If he’s willing. But now…” He made a gesture of futility. “Unless Victoria shows up, he’s going to go back to Europe and leave me here with my piddly eighteen percent. I mean, telling him I’m serious about a relationship and then losing the girl looks worse than never having been serious in the first place.”

“I see.”

“Though it wouldn’t necessarily have to be Victoria…” He tapped his fingers on the desk. “It could be anyone.”

Jane’s mouth suddenly felt dry. “Doesn’t your father know who Victoria is?”

He shrugged. “Actually, no. I never said her name. He lives in Tuscany—”

“The south of France,” Jane corrected automatically, still thinking about the fact that Victoria wasn’t really a contender after all.

“What’s that?”

She returned her attention to the conversation. “It’s the south of France, not Tuscany.” She’d heard the stories of how the elder Terrence Breckenridge had suddenly abandoned the business he’d founded to move to a quiet life near Provence. It was Jane’s fantasy that someday she, too, would have that kind of nerve, so his destination had stuck in her mind.

“South of France, that’s right.” Trey looked impressed. “When we spoke, it was a bad phone connection, I just told him we’d talk about it when he got here.” Optimism was lighting his eyes. “And now that he’s here, I need a girl. Fast.”

Jane sensed disaster in that plan. “Can’t you just tell your father the truth?”

“No way.” He gave a spike of humorless laughter and leaned back in his chair. “This is harmless enough and—you’re looking at me that way again. What’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “It’s none of my business.”

“But?”

She shrugged. How could she tell him all the things that were running through her mind, about him and marriage and love? “I just take the idea of marriage seriously.”

“So do I. That’s why I don’t want anything to do with it.” He leaned forward. “I have a theory that nothing kills all hope for future happiness like getting married.”

Her heart sank. “That’s a depressing thought.”

“I know it is, but it’s true. I don’t know of one lasting union that’s turned out happy.” He paused. “Do you?”

“Many,” she answered quickly. Immediately she questioned herself. Could she say her parents? Her father had died when she was eleven, but until then they had seemed happy together. Her mother had certainly been unhappy once he was gone.

“Name one.”

“I could name several, but no one you know.”

“Hmm.” He obviously didn’t believe her.

“Can’t you think of even one?”

“Not one.”

“How about your parents?” It was a mistake, she realized immediately.

Trey’s expression froze. His mouth was still turned up in the suggestion of a smile but the humor had left his eyes. “In my opinion, marriage is an institution that doesn’t work.”

Very bad subject. She made a mental note of it. “Okay, so does your father know you feel that way about marriage?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Unfortunately, I’ve got to play his little game if I want to win.”

“All to get the company?”

His eyes hardened. “I’ve worked damn hard to build this business, and if you get right down to it, the old man’s not exactly playing fair by ransoming it for a promise of marriage.”

“Do you really feel marriage is such a bad thing?” She gathered her courage. “Or do you think you just haven’t met the right girl yet?”

He considered her for a moment. “Let me put it this way, my relationship with you is the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a woman.” He gave a half smile. “I don’t think that’s going to change. But if I create the impression that I’m involved and heading toward the altar to make the old man happy, it’s not so bad, is it?”

“I guess not.” But she wasn’t sure.

He straightened up. “Then you understand.”

“I think I do.” She wasn’t sure at all.

He heaved a breath. “Victoria was perfect for the job.”

Meaning, Jane supposed, that not only was she an actress, but she was gorgeous. Looks were almost all that were required. She looked down, privately wishing, for the thousandth time, that she could have just a week of being perfect in the way that blond, petite curvaceous Victoria Benson was. Just to see what it felt like.

At five feet eleven and skinny as a rail, Jane had always felt awkward and conspicuous. Some people might have reveled in that, but she was also so painfully shy that the fact that her height called so much attention to her was the cruelest irony.

So for most of her twenty-six years she’d tried to blend in, to be as unnoticeable as possible. She kept her straight hair pulled back, wore plain black-rimmed glasses, neutral functional clothes and no makeup. It worked. People hardly noticed her, especially if she wasn’t right next to them.

She was, in the most literal sense, a plain Jane. The old-fashioned name which had been her grandmother’s suited her well.

Across from her, Trey cocked his head and looked at her intensely. “Jane, you wouldn’t…”

She frowned. “Wouldn’t what?”

He leaned forward in what she recognized as his pitch position. “Jane, you know I’d never want you to do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

Her heart lurched to her throat. “Like making coffee for my boss?” She tried to make her tone light but her voice was barely more than a whisper.

He smiled. “How about pretending you’re engaged to your boss?”

Had she heard him correctly? Or had she slipped into a dream? “You want me to—”

“You’re right, it’s completely outside the bounds of your job description. I have no right to even ask, but I’m asking anyway. Will you even consider it?”

Jane felt the heat of self-consciousness creep into her cheeks. “Trey, who would believe you’d marry me?”

“Why not?” He looked genuinely puzzled and for that she felt more affection for him than she ever had before.

Her chest warmed into an ache. “Well, I’m hardly a glamour girl.”

He leaned back in his chair and appraised her. “I don’t even know what that means. You’d do just fine.” He must have realized how unenthusiastic that sounded because he immediately added, “You’d be great. Probably even better than Victoria.”

Jane gave a laugh. “There’s no way you’re going to make me believe that.”

“Please consider it,” he said soberly. “Please.”

“It would never work.”

“It has to.”

She took a slow, calming breath. “Well…”

“Is that a yes?”

“If you really think this can work…”

“Is that a yes?” he pressed again. “Please say that’s a yes.”

She shrugged. “I guess it is.”

He smiled broadly. “Jane, Jane, Jane, you are a lifesaver. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“Just doing my job,” she said, in what she had intended to be a joke.

He scoffed. “This goes well beyond the call of duty. Obviously I’ll pay you overtime for this.”

“Pay?” she echoed in a whisper. “I was only kidding. You wouldn’t need to pay me.”

“Of course I would, it’s work. I’ll give you time and a half. No, double time.”

“That’s really not necessary. I’m honestly glad to be able to help.”

He gave a long sigh that was clearly relief, and looked at her with unabashed pleasure. “There aren’t a lot of girls like you in this world.”

She raised an eyebrow and started to speak, but he interrupted her. “Women,” he corrected. “People. There aren’t a lot of people in the world like you.”

She smiled. “Or like you.”

His smile dimmed fractionally and he looked at her with serious eyes. “What on earth would I ever do without you?” The intensity of his gaze, as well as his words, made pleasure coil like a snake in the pit of Jane’s stomach.

He appreciated her. She actually meant something to him. Until today she had never really been sure of that.

She glanced down, practically circling her toe on the ground in front of her. “You’d do fine, Trey. You always do.”

Trey watched Jane as she walked away from him. After she closed the door, he slumped down in his chair and let out a long breath. Had he really asked her to play the part of his fiancée tonight? Was he insane?

Maybe she was right. Maybe people wouldn’t believe him and Jane as a couple. They were so different from each other. He saw the big picture not the details. He tended to create a lot of clutter in his quest to achieve his goals. Jane, on the other hand, was practical and no-nonsense. She was incredibly efficient, and always behaved in a prim and proper manner. In her own way, he realized, Jane was no more the marrying kind than he was.

Which, actually, made her perfect for him.

He blew air into his cheeks, then sighed it away. Jane. She wasn’t always prim and proper. In fact, there were aspects of her that were undeniably…sexy. For example, there was the subtle sway of her slender hips as she’d walked away. He hadn’t been able to ignore that. Of course, it had caught his eye because he rarely saw a woman who wasn’t consciously doing it and he knew Jane wasn’t. It was interesting, that was all. It wasn’t really what you would call lust or anything.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to shake the thought out of his head. Jane would be horrified if she had any idea he was thinking this way. She’d probably even quit. He could picture it now, Jane sitting before him, in her high-necked blouse, hands folded in her lap.

I’m sorry, Trey, but I’m unable to work with you under the circumstances. I’m sure you’ll understand why I feel…What would she say? Probably something delicate and old-fashioned. I feel we must part.

He shook his head again. What was he doing, wasting his time thinking about this? He had much more important things to worry about now that the problem of tonight’s dinner was patched up.

He looked at the door to make sure it was closed all the way, then took a key ring out of his pocket and opened the side drawer of his desk. What he needed was right on top. It was a composition notebook he’d picked up at the drug store for a buck. Something about the informality of the book was comforting to him, like its contents weren’t necessarily serious.

He opened to the first page and it hit him full force. The contents were serious all right. It was a list of employees’ names, beginning with those who were most expendable, if such a word could really be used for people. He trailed his finger down the list looking for…For what? For young, single, independently wealthy people whose lives wouldn’t be devastated by the loss of their job? There weren’t any. Most of the names were familiar. Good, reliable, loyal workers who had worked for the company for over ten years. He’d hate to lay any of them off.

After several long minutes, he put the composition book back and took out the spreadsheet his accountant had done. There was a dip in November two years ago, right about the time Trey’s father had voted against bidding on a job for a company he felt was too commercial. He said the company “didn’t nurture the community spirit that Breckenridge Construction had built its good name upon.”

That had been Trey’s first real clash with his father. Up to that point, they had lived in peaceful estrangement. They were acquaintances, little more. All that changed that November, though. Trey had first tried reasoning with his father, pointing out that the company had to grow in order to justify retaining the existing employees. That had been met with blame for “overspending” by “overemploying.” So Trey had changed his tactic, insisting that limiting the company that way would endanger its very existence.

He believed the word his father had responded with was, “Hogwash.”

Finally Trey had demanded that they go forward with the bid. His father had called an emergency Board meeting and vote. His shares had easily won the vote, as he knew they would.

Trey looked back at the spreadsheet and saw where something similar had happened in February the next year, and May after that. In July his father had finally relented and they’d gotten a semi-large contract for an undeniably commercial health club. The renovation work was up for an award. Trey shook his head. You’d think that would persuade the old man this was the right direction but, no, he was still dragging his feet.

He moved the spreadsheet aside and looked at the company assets and liabilities. He scanned down the numbers to the bottom of the page. The bottom line. When he saw it, he winced. Breckenridge Construction was in trouble. Big trouble.

If Trey didn’t get control of the company in time to take the Davenport job, not only would the people listed in the composition book be without jobs, but most likely Trey, himself, would be too. And Jane. There was no way he could let that happen. He’d do whatever it took to save their jobs for them, and the company for himself.

After all, it was really all he had.

Chapter Two

“This is your chance,” Jane told her reflection in the rearview mirror on the way home. “Tonight you’re going to be his fiancée. It’s up to you to make it real.” She looked at her reflection an extra moment, then turned her eyes back to the road with a laugh. “Right. Not unless I have a fairy godmother that I don’t know about.”

A small, red convertible zipped into the lane in front of Jane, and she had to slam on the brakes of her own sensible American-made compact to avoid a crash. She pulled over to the side of the road and sat, waiting for her pulse to calm down and watching the convertible speed off. All she saw of the driver was long blonde hair flowing in the wind, and a red-nailed hand waving back at Jane.

“Well if that isn’t symbolic, I don’t know what is,” she said to herself and sighed. “I can’t keep up in a red convertible world. Why am I trying?”

There wasn’t even the lightest of winds to answer. Not that she expected one. She already had more answers than she cared to acknowledge.

“You know darn well what you should do,” she said to her reflection again. “You should quit working for Trey and leave. It’s the only way to get him out of your system.” She pressed her lips together and shook her head, now looking inward instead of at the mirror. “But I can’t,” she said softly. “I care too much to leave.”

After a moment of quiet, she put her car into gear and pulled back onto the road.

As soon as she walked in the front door of her apartment ten minutes later, her roommate, Peatie, shouted to her from the bathroom.

“Your boss called.” Peatie’s New York accent was uncharacteristically sing-songy. She walked into the hallway, with huge sections of her bleached-blond hair wrapped in aluminum foil. “Said he wasn’t sure whether you had something you wanted to wear to this fancy schmancy place tonight, so he’s having some things sent over from Neiman-Marcus.” She looked at Jane expectantly. “Neiman-Marcus. So what the heck’s going on?”

“It’s no big deal,” Jane said, a flush of anticipation warming her cheeks. She dropped her purse on the hall table and shrugged. “I just have to go out with Trey tonight and pose as his fiancée.”

“You what?”

“No big deal. All in a day’s work.” She tried to keep a straight face but when she saw her roommate’s astounded expression, she burst into laughter.

Peatie put a hand on her hip. “Okay, okay, you had me going for a minute. Now what are you really up to?”

Jane crossed her finger over her chest. “Honest to goodness, that’s what I’m doing. I can’t quite believe it either. But Trey wants his father to believe he’s engaged, and when the woman who was supposed to play the role canceled, he asked me. Me.”

“You’re serious?”

Jane nodded. “Unless I’m dreaming.”

Peatie frowned, obviously still not convinced. “Why does he want his father to think he’s engaged?”

Jane took her sweater off and hung it on the coat rack. “It’s a long story, but he’s got noble reasons, don’t worry.”

Peatie shook her foiled head, then gasped. “Oh! He said he wanted you to call him if you got in before five-thirty. You’ve got like a minute.”

Jane glanced at her watch. It was five twenty-five. “Thanks,” she said, running to the phone in the kitchen. Was he canceling? No, he wouldn’t be sending clothes over if he was. As she rounded the corner, she slipped and her shoe went flying off, but didn’t bother retrieving it as she was already reaching for the phone.

Peatie followed Jane, holding the shoe out to her. “Lose something, Cinderella?”

Jane laughed and took the shoe, feeling that the analogy was apt. The phone rang five times, and she was about to hang up when Trey answered.

“Trey, it’s Jane,” she said in the calmest voice she could manage. “You called?”

“Did your roommate tell you I was having some clothes sent over?” He sounded distracted.

Jane sat down and coiled the phone cord around her finger. “Yes, that’s really thoughtful of you, but you didn’t have to bother.” She was sure glad he had, though, because she hadn’t even thought about what to wear.

“It was no bother, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t think I was being presumptuous.” She could see him setting his pen down and leaning back in his chair in her mind’s eye, almost as if he was sitting right in front of her. “It’s not that I thought you didn’t have clothes already, I just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel like you had to run out and get something new. Knowing you, you wouldn’t tell me so I could cover the expense.”

He was right. She smiled to herself. “It should be interesting to see what you picked out.”

His chair squeaked and she knew he was leaning forward again, probably looking at things on his desk and getting ready to hang up the phone. “I picked out a professional shopper. She’s picking the clothes. I just hope I got your size right.” He sounded distracted again, and she wasn’t surprised when he went on to say, “Look, I’m on my way out but I’ll see you in a couple of hours, all right?”

He’d see her in a couple of hours. It was almost as if they had a date. “See you then,” she said lightly, and hung up the phone.

“So what did the future Mr. Jane Miller have to say?” Peatie asked.

Jane turned to her with a smile. “He wanted to make sure I wasn’t offended that he was having clothes sent here.”

Peatie snorted. “He can offend me any time he wants to send Neiman’s over.” An egg timer dinged in the bathroom. “Time to rinse,” she said, heading down the hall. “But I want details when I get back.”

Jane was about to go to her room when the doorbell buzzed. She hurried to answer.

When she opened the door, a petite woman stood before her holding several heavy-looking garment bags. “Jane Miller?”

“Yes.” Jane stepped back to show the woman in.

“I’m Ella Bingham,” the woman said, with a warm smile. “Mr. Breckenridge said you’d be expecting me.”

“Yes.” Jane led her into the living room. “Can I help you carry any of that?”

“Oh, heavens no, thank you. I’ve spent years doing this sort of thing.” She laid the bags across the back of the sofa and stood back to assess Jane. “Let’s see now.” She walked around her, looking her up and down. “That Mr. Breckenridge has quite a good eye. What do you wear, a twelve?”

Jane was amazed. “Yes. He told you that?”

Ella shook her head. “I don’t know a man in the world who’s that good. No, he estimated your height and measurements and he did quite well.” She winked. “He must spend quite a lot of time with you.”

“He’s my boss.” She wondered why she felt she had to explain.

Ella nodded discreetly and unzipped the first garment bag with a flair. “Mr. Breckenridge wasn’t sure what sort of fashion you’d prefer, so I brought a selection.” She pulled out a slim red dress with a matching bolero jacket. “He did mention that you remind him of Audrey Hepburn, so I naturally thought of this style.”

“It’s beautiful,” Jane breathed.

Peatie entered the room in a thick terrycloth robe, rubbing her wet hair with a towel. “It sure is. Is that what you’re wearing tonight?”

Jane introduced the women, then said, “I don’t know…” She looked at Ella, trying to savor every delicious moment of this fantasy evening. “Did Trey really say I reminded him of Audrey Hepburn?”

“He certainly did, and I can see exactly what he meant.” Ella gave a demure smile. “Now run along and give this dress a try.”

“I don’t know…”

“Jane, it’s gorgeous,” Peatie said.

“Yes, it is, but it’s so—so glamorous.”

Peatie and Ella exchanged glances and Ella said, “I’ll just pop down to the car and get the shoes.” She flashed Peatie another look. “See if you can’t get her into that dress while I’m gone.”

When she was gone, Peatie turned to Jane and asked, “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing, it’s just…look at that dress and then look at me.” She splayed her arms. Did she really have to spell this out? “I’m hardly the model type. I’d look silly in something so…alluring.”

Peatie scoffed and dragged Jane by the arm over to the old, brass hallway mirror. “I hate to break this to you, Janie, but you’re not quite the monster you make yourself out to be.” She wrinkled her nose and studied Jane from her vantage point behind—and about six inches below her. “Actually, I think you’d really be a knockout with a little makeup and hair styling and some different clothes.”

Jane flashed her a look.

Peatie laughed. “Look, I’d kill to have your height and your cheekbones.”

“Come on, I don’t believe that for a minute.”

“I mean it.” Peatie gestured emphatically. “Look at yourself. You’re Beauty, not the Beast.”

Jane’s face grew hot as she looked at her reflection. Was Peatie seeing the same thing she was? “All right, I know I’m not a beast but at best I’m just ordinary.” She moved her gaze from Peatie to her own reflection. “Makeup and clothes aren’t going to change me into a beauty.”

“How do you know?” Peatie asked derisively. “Honestly, I’ll never understand why you always sell yourself so short.”

Jane turned to face her roommate, grateful for the compliment but a realist to the end. “I don’t sell myself short. I know I have other things going for me. But…” She sighed. “You know, my mother was beautiful. I mean,” she gestured at the dress, “that kind of beautiful. I think I was a huge disappointment to her.”

“Oh, Jane. Why would you think that?”

Jane bit her lower lip and allowed herself a moment to dive into the memories she had avoided for so long. “When I was young, she used to dress me in clothes that matched hers, but as I got older she stopped. She marveled at how different I looked from her. Not that she said that was a bad thing, exactly, but I could tell.”

“Come on, you’re jumping pretty far to reach those conclusions.”

Jane gave a quick shake of her head. “It wasn’t just that. After my dad died and Mom went to work, she became quite blunt about how I should emphasize my education and not my looks. She said my intelligence was my greatest asset and not to worry about my appearance.” She turned back to the mirror and looked at the tall, pale woman she saw there. “I know that’s not horrendous, but hearing that from someone who looks like a Hollywood star makes the point pretty obvious.”

Peatie clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Well, if you ask me, your mom didn’t do you any great favors by making you feel so unfeminine and plain. Especially since it’s not true.”

Jane sighed. It was awkward to defend either side of this argument. Fortunately, Peatie didn’t wait for her to.

“But I can help you with that now,” she went on. “Tonight, Cinderella, you’re going to the ball. Best of all, your prince is guaranteed.”

“This may be the biggest mistake of my life.”

Peatie patted Jane’s shoulder. “Believe me, this is a golden opportunity for you. And in that dress,” she gave a broad wink, “I bet I won’t be seeing you back here again until tomorrow morning.”

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“I am not!” Peatie looked very serious. “Janie, I would never, ever encourage you to do this if I thought you’d get hurt.”

Jane bit down on her lip and glanced at her watch. It was quarter to six. “Okay, I’ll try it.” She picked the dress up and went down the hallway to her room. Her heart pounded at the idea of actually giving this a try. Maybe—just maybe—it could work. Maybe Trey would finally see her in a romantic light. She began to work up some enthusiasm but a tiny dread nagged in her chest. She stopped and turned back. “Peatie, what if I make a fool of myself?”

Peatie shrugged. “What of it? Will you feel worse if you make a fool of yourself trying to get this guy or if you never even try at all?”

“I don’t know.” Her palms were cold and wet. “I honestly don’t know the answer to that question.”

“Yes, you do.” Peatie smiled in a knowing way. Then her voice became crisp and businesslike as she cracked an imaginary whip. “Now try on that dress.”

As she walked through the doors of the Zebra Room, Jane clutched her serviceable black, wool coat closed around her and tried hard to keep believing.

It wasn’t always easy.

But she tried. Peatie and Ella’s enthusiasm had been infectious and she’d left the house in the fire-engine red dress, which, as it turned out, hugged her figure in all the right places, and made her look more lithe and elegant than she’d ever dreamed she could.

“You can’t tell what something’s going to look like until you take it off the rack and try it on,” Ella had said. “The dress doesn’t make you stunning, it’s the other way around.”

“I don’t know,” Jane had answered, still breathless from the dramatic enhancement she’d seen in the mirror. “I still think this is some sort of miracle dress.”

“It’s a few yards of fabric,” Peatie had said, and Ella nodded. “What you’re looking at is you.”

Jane had smiled at that. Perhaps it was true. Somehow she felt more like herself than she ever had before, even though she had thought it would be the opposite. She felt proud and confident, or at least as close to confident as she could come, given that she was still Jane. Anyway, she’d left the house—that was progress.

Now every step she took added a spark to her emotionally charged anticipation. It was like wearing tap shoes on a subway line. What would Trey think? Would he see her as the same old plain Jane she’d always been or would he finally see her as the woman she thought maybe—just maybe—she truly was?

Her long auburn hair was curled into Pre-Raphaelite ringlets that tumbled across her shoulders in an unfamiliar way. She’d talked Peatie and Ella out of the red-red lipstick they’d suggested, but the dusty-rose she wore instead felt just as conspicuous. Plus it made her mouth look huge and pouty. Her lashes, thick and long with black mascara, seemed to stick together for an instant every time she blinked.

And she blinked a lot, because Peatie had insisted she take off her “sex-prevention glasses”, so everything in the distance had a tendency to blur. Her one small concession to herself was that she’d snuck the glasses into the small clutch bag Ella had thrust upon her.

But in her secret heart, she felt great.

She stopped at the coat check. With one final steadying breath, she took off the coat. A cool breeze drifted through the front door. Her legs, covered in the sheerest silk stockings, felt nude. She congratulated herself for having had the good sense to override Peatie’s suggestion that she wear high heels, and instead wore good, solid pumps.

“You can do this,” she told herself under her breath. “You can do it.”

“I beg your pardon, madame?” the maître d’ asked, coming away from his station. The older couple in front of her looked miffed at his abandonment. “Is there some way I can be of service to you?”

It was one of the first times in recent history she hadn’t felt invisible in public.

Panic filled her. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself. “I’m just looking for my party. Thank you.” With the maître d’s gaze still burning on her skin, she turned to rush from the restaurant. This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. There was no way in the world she could pull this off. She’d leave a message for Trey, apologizing. Maybe even resigning.

The door was within reach. She could feel the chilly night air on her skin. All she had to do was get her coat and—

Wham! She slammed into something, or rather someone, at full force and dropped her purse, spilling the contents across the red, carpeted floor.

Jane dropped to the floor in a frantic scramble to pick the contents up, lest someone should see some embarrassing personal item.

“Pardon me,” a familiar voice offered, bending down before her to help pick up the purse’s contents. She saw a head of dark, shining hair before they stood and he handed her glasses back to her. “Here you go.”

“Thanks.” With sudden realization, she gave a self-conscious laugh. It was Trey, dressed to the nines in his most flattering dark, navy-blue suit. She’d seen him in it a thousand times, but the sight always took her breath away. The fit was perfection over his broad shoulders and tapered wonderfully to his slim hips without looking like it was trying too hard.

When he looked at her, his gray eyes took on an unusual light. “Have we met?” His voice was smooth and confident, but the thing that struck her was that it held no recognition whatsoever.

Was he joking? “Almost every day for five years.”

His smile froze. His questioning eyes searched hers. “Jane? My God, is that you?”

She nodded and tried not to yank the scooped neckline of her dress up higher.

“Are you sure?”

She frowned. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. It’s just—nothing at all.”

“Am I late?”

“No, not at all.” He looked back at her. “I was early.” Slowly, his eyes wandered over her, from her hair to her mouth down her body and back to her eyes. “You really look different.”

She blinked. “I thought this dress would be okay.”

“It is, it’s…more than okay. I mean, you look terrific.” He shook his head with a long, slow intake of breath. “Just great.” He expelled the breath. “Wow.”

She couldn’t breathe at all. “Thanks.”

He raked his hand across his hair and looked down for a moment. Then he looked back at her with an intensity in his eyes that took her breath away. “So, are you ready to go on with the show?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’ll need this.” He dug into his pocket and took out a small velvet box. He opened it and took out a huge diamond ring. “As of now, you’re my fiancée, so you’d better put it on.” He handed the ring to her.

She took it. It was the largest diamond Jane had ever seen. It even felt heavy in the palm of her hand. “I’m a little nervous about taking responsibility for this.”

“Go on. It’s just for dinner. What could happen?”

She tried the ring on her trembling hand. “It’s a little loose,” she said, noticing how easily it slid over her knuckle.

“We could have it—” Trey stopped himself. “I mean, if anyone were to notice it didn’t fit we could say we were going to have it sized.”

Jane nodded and took a steadying breath. “This must have cost a fortune.”

“Somewhere around thirty-five thousand bucks.” He looked at the ring. “It seems like a lot for a chunk of carbon.”

“How on earth can you afford such a thing?”

He gave a rueful smile. “I can’t. It’s on loan from a jeweler friend of mine.” He hesitated and they both considered the weight of his words. “I’m returning it in a few days.”

“I’ll be really careful.” She let out a pent-up breath. “Okay, what should I do? Come in with you now, or join you in a minute after you’ve settled down? That way, it wouldn’t look like we’ve been standing here plotting.”

He snapped his fingers. “Good point. Yes. I’ll go in now and you come in after me and make some excuse about the weather or something delaying you.”

“Right.”

He caught her by the wrist and looked deep into her eyes. “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

She nodded solemnly. “I do.”

The words hung before her in the air for several minutes after he’d gone.

Chapter Three

She waited for a tortuous five minutes before going through the dining room to the table where Trey and his father sat.

Trey stood as soon as she approached the table. “Sweetheart,” he said, drawing her hand up to his chest to turn her toward him.

Her pulse pounded madly, right to her fingertips. She was sure he could feel it.

He put his other hand on her hip and gave a half-smile. “Sorry, but we have to make this look good,” he whispered into her ear.

Before she could ask what he meant, he pulled her against him and lowered his mouth onto hers, muffling her startled exclamation.

“Make it look real,” he murmured against her mouth. His aftershave mingled with their warm breath. Jane breathed it in like life-giving oxygen, and surrendered to the thrill of his kiss. Blood pounded and coursed through her veins with the rocket power of adrenaline.

Trey trailed his hand down to the small of her back, drawing her closer to him for just a moment. In reality, the kiss lasted no more than a few seconds, but to Jane it was a tingling eternity.

He pulled back and gave her a devastating smile, his hand still resting casually on the small of her back. “I’m so glad you made it,” he said, in a normal conversational tone.

“Me too,” she gasped, eyes wide. She blinked. “You have lipstick—”

“Where?” He swiped at the wrong place.

“No, just—there.” He stood while she reached out and smudged the dusty-rose off his lips. When her thumb touched the corner of his mouth she had to force herself not to linger. Instead, she pulled her hand back, too quickly. He seemed to notice.

“Gone?” he asked, a little bemused.

“Yes.”

He smiled easily and turned with her. His hand burned a patch of heat into the small of her back then trailed off as he stepped aside as if to showcase her.

“Dad, this is my fiancée…Jane Miller.” His voice actually rang with pride. He was a better actor than she thought. “Jane, my father.”

The elder Breckenridge stood and gave a half bow. He had a thick mop of gray hair and the same strong jaw and straight nose as his son. His eyes were blue and clear. “Lovely to meet you, my dear. I’ve waited a long time for this.” He continued to stand as Trey pulled the chair out for Jane.

I know what you mean, she thought. She was surprised to hear her own voice sounding calm. “I have too. Trey has told me so much about you.” She paused and realized that her pounding heart seemed to have pounded some confidence into her. “How are you enjoying life in the south of France?”

His expression broke into pure pleasure. “Delightful. Wish I’d made the move years ago. I have a small, stone farmhouse, several dogs, goats, and all the peace and quiet I could ever want.”

“It sounds heavenly.”

“It is. I’ve been trying to get Trey to come and visit but he’s always so busy.”

She nodded and tried to deflect the criticism from Trey. “Do you play boule?” She’d seen them playing the French version of Italian bocce ball on television and thought it looked like fun.

Terrence Breckenridge’s eyes widened. “As a matter of fact, I’m second in the village. There’s one old-timer there who just cannot be beaten, though the Lord knows I’ve tried.” He gave a laugh. “Do you play?”

She shook her head. “But I’d like to give it a try someday.”

“I know just the place, and just the man to take you there.” He winked at Trey then said to Jane, “Enough about me, I want to know all about you. My son has been very secretive.” He gave Trey a pointed look.

Jane took a quick breath. “What would you like to know?” This was where the improvisation was going to begin. She said a silent prayer that she would manage without bungling everything for Trey.

“How did the two of you meet?”

She felt Trey’s eyes on her and spoke carefully. “At work. We’ve known each other for several years but we only recently…recently discovered—”

“That we’re in love,” Trey finished, laying his hand on top of hers. He must have noticed it trembling because he asked, under his breath, “You okay?”

Jane could barely breathe. “Fine,” she whispered back.

“Just realized it, eh?” Terrence asked Jane with raised brows. His expression was unreadable, but in exactly the way that Trey’s expression often was.

She swallowed and gathered her nerve. “Sometimes when you work with someone for a long time you don’t realize where business ends and personal feelings begin.” She looked at Trey, sending signals with her eyes and with her heart that she knew he wasn’t picking up on.

“Yes,” Trey said, as if he’d given it some thought, which she was sure he hadn’t. “Sometimes you need the proverbial bolt of lightning to wake you up.”

Jane looked at him incredulously.

“Indeed that’s true. I’ve seen it more than once in my lifetime,” the older man said, taking the wine list from the waiter. He perused it for only a moment, then ordered. When the waiter left, he turned his attention back to Jane and Trey. “I had no idea the two of you had worked together.”

“Yes.” Trey cleared his throat. “Jane is actually my administrative assistant.” He nodded, in a sort of marionette-like fashion, but didn’t add anything to it.

Jane thought she’d never seen him so nervous. “You know how your son is, always burning the midnight oil to get things done. We’ve spent a lot of time working together in close quarters.” She drew a tremulous breath. “I guess it was just inevitable that this would happen.”

“Bah!” Terrence picked up a roll and slathered it with butter. “You could work together for years and never feel a spark, no matter how close the quarters. It’s only inevitable when it’s right. And I can tell just from looking at the two of you that it’s right.”

Jane smiled, uncomfortably aware of Trey next to her. “It seems to be,” she hedged. You could work together for years and never feel a spark. His words stung with the truth.

The wine steward appeared and showed the bottle to Terrence for his approval. He gave a quick nod, then took the bottle from the waiter without bothering to take the customary sip of approval. “We need to drink a toast,” he said, cavalierly sloshing the wine into everyone’s glasses. “This is a sturdy little red wine from my new hometown, which I hope to introduce you both to very soon.” He handed the glasses to Trey and Jane. “Salut.”

They all drank.

“So,” Terrence said, setting his glass down. “No sense in beating around the bush. You two are thinking of getting married, eh?”

“Definitely,” Trey said, too loudly, too quickly. He slipped his arm around Jane’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. “I’m not letting this one get away.”

Inhaling the clean scent of his aftershave, she nearly closed her eyes in ecstasy. Then she allowed herself the momentary luxury of sinking against him. With her arm pressed against his rib cage, she could feel the steady beat of Trey’s heart. His body heat against her skin made her shiver with pleasure.

“I hope the lady agrees,” Terrence said, with a questioning lift of his brow.

“Yes.” With some effort, she straightened and took a bracing sip of the wine. “Ever since I met Trey, I’ve had the feeling he was the one,” she said, more honestly than Trey would ever know.

The older man beamed delightedly. “So when’s the date?”

There was a brief, awkward silence, then Jane said the only thing that came to mind. “February fourteenth. Valentine’s Day,” she added unnecessarily.

“Of next year,” Trey put in quickly. Then, with a shrug to his father, added, “Jane prefers a long engagement.”

Terrence looked at her. “Really, why is that?”

She felt the heat creep into her cheeks. “Why?” Her mind raced frantically. “Because…” She looked at Trey, whose face was curiously blank. “Because statistics show that people who are engaged a year or more typically have more successful marriages.” She thought she had read that, or something like that, somewhere. Sometime.

Beside her, Trey added an enthusiastic, “Yes.”

Terrence scratched his chin. “I didn’t know that.”

“Oh yes.” Trey picked up the reins. “Lots of studies have been done on the subject. The longer the engagement, the better the marriage.”

The waiter appeared then to take their orders, and Jane took the opportunity to breathe and collect herself. She wasn’t feeling as shy as she normally did in social situations. That was good. But she didn’t feel certain about her acting skills. That was bad.

When it was Trey’s turn, he hesitated over whether to get the chicken or the filet and Jane leaned in to whisper to him that the chicken dish was heavy on an herb he didn’t like. “Remember? At Chez Guis-line you said the tarragon tasted like soap leaves to you.”

After a long, questioning moment of looking at her, he ordered the beef.

“That’s what I like to see,” Terrence said, apparently oblivious to Trey’s silent query. “A woman looking out for her man. Call me old-fashioned, but it does my heart good.”

“Jane is old-fashioned too,” Trey interjected. “I just knew you two would hit it off.”

They both looked at him.

“In what ways am I old-fashioned?” she asked.

“Loyalty,” Trey said, letting his gaze linger on her for an extra moment.

“That’s an important quality in a wife,” Terrence agreed.

“That’s an important quality in anyone,” Jane said, just as Trey began to say the same thing. They exchanged glances.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” he said, eyeing her steadily.

Suddenly there was an exclamation of surprise and Jane, who was lifting her water glass to her lips, was knocked soundly by an older woman passing by. The water spilled across her lap and onto the floor.

“Oh! I’m so terribly sorry!” the woman exclaimed.

Jane took her napkin and started blotting the water up. “It’s okay. It’s just water.”

“I just feel terrible,” the woman said, reaching down with a handkerchief she had taken from her purse and blotting at Jane’s skirt. “Just terrible.” She bumped her hand soundly against Jane’s, and the heavy diamond cut into her skin.

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