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  “I’ll do my best,” Teagan said, but he seemed not to be listening. Without warning, his hand had descended to rest casually on her knee. Teagan stiffened, but his next words forestalled any protest.

  “Secondly, and this is as important as the first rule, you should keep in mind that tonight we play the part of a couple. We’re attracted to one another, we’re in love. In fact, you might just be The One, as far as Grandfather is to know. So if you can’t prevent yourself from leaping toward the ceiling every time I lay a hand on you, we might as well call this whole show off and just go home.”

  At his reproving tone, indignation descended over her, but he gave her no opportunity to interrupt.

  “Now if we’ve gotten the easy parts ironed out, let’s move on to the more technical details. Grandfather may ask questions—how we met, what you do for a living, that sort of thing. I’ve tried to keep all references to my mysterious lady love rather vague, so you aren’t in much danger of tripping my story up. If in doubt, however, just keep quiet and follow my lead. I’ve invented a few answers that should keep everyone satisfied.”

  “You appear to have put a great deal of thought into this scheme.”

  He smiled—a rare sight. “I’ve thought about it for all of two days,” he responded. “Before that, I never knew I was going to be required to produce the new woman in my life.”

  “And what if you’re asked to display her again after tonight?” she voiced her curiosity. “Won’t your grandfather expect to see her again on other occasions?”

  “I’ll think of something.” He turned from staring out the window to glance in her direction. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll break up. Or better yet, maybe I’ll kill you off at some point.”

  Teagan didn’t laugh. With the apprehensive state she was in this evening, his words had struck a little too close to home. Avoiding his gaze, she stared down at his hand on her thigh and felt any lingering remnants of excitement at her surroundings, her extravagant costume, or the coming events of the evening draining away.

  Sir must have noticed the change in her mood. Following the direction of her eyes and evidently misreading her discomfort, he surprised her by carefully withdrawing his hand. They rode the remainder of the way in cool silence.

  Chapter 23

  The banquet was underway on the top floor of one of the city’s ritziest restaurants. Teagan had plenty of time on the ride up in the elevator to listen to Sir run through a quick final reminder of all the points she needed to watch out for. Grandfather Rotham was a little on the devious side, and if he suspected for a moment that she was merely some woman Sir had dragged in off the streets to play the part, he would try to trip her up with trick questions. It was important to keep her wits about her throughout the evening. When they stepped off the elevator, she wasn’t to gawk about her as if she had never seen such richness. She also had to remember she was on very intimate terms with Sir. And although he hadn’t made her background too impressive, she should at least try to sound cultured when she entered into any conversation. If she couldn’t do that, she would do best to avoid talking.

  Teagan tried to take in all of his instructions, but her mind was abuzz with its own concerns, and those had little to do with impressing Grandfather Rotham or anybody else. A desire had been growing in her over the past half hour to ask Sir the question that had been plaguing her all day—a question that had nothing to do with the banquet or any of their plans for the night.

  What business had he had yesterday with the man in the blue coat? She knew it was a bad time to be obsessing about anything other than the events at hand but couldn’t quite shake the fears that had been planted in her at the park this afternoon. Only uncertainty over the reaction her question might draw kept her silent. After all, if the connection was one he truly wished her unaware of, wouldn’t it be dangerous to confess her knowledge?

  The elevator came to a smooth halt and there was no more time for thinking. The opening doors before her revealed an atmosphere of soft lighting, live music, and mingling figures crowding the floor space. Overhead, heavy crystal chandeliers hung dark from the ceiling while pale wall lights provided the illumination. At the center of the room a band played a quiet tune that scarcely rose over the babble of voices and the clink of glasses and silverware.

  Circular tables were spaced around the space, surrounding the deeply sunken area where the band was set up and where a vast space of wooden floor had been left open for dancing. That area was clear at the moment, as guests still hovered around their tables, chatting gaily and sipping sparkling drinks from tall flutes. Taking in the mass of tuxedos and glittering evening gowns around her, Teagan immediately felt grateful for Sir’s efforts on her behalf. One or two female gusts she saw equaled her attire but none outshone it.

  So intent was she on drinking in her surroundings she hardly noticed when Sir stepped behind her to slip her fur coat off her shoulders and hand it over to an attendant. He had plastered a small, artificial smile on his face the moment the doors opened onto the scene, and now he put his mouth close to her ear. “You’re gawking,” he chided lowly.

  Teagan instantly dragged her gaze away from massive pillars along the room’s edges and the floral arrangements spilling out of wall vases and dotting tabletops. She even managed not to start too obviously when Sir put his hand against the small of her back and began guiding her through the maze of visiting guests and graceful servers, ushering her toward the tables across the room.

  Almost at once, they were surrounded by a cluster of guests, Sir’s apparent acquaintances, who greeted him, gushing about his grandfather’s generosity in putting together the fund-raising occasion, and congratulating him on its already certain success. Teagan felt distinctly uncomfortable being at the center of their attention, even if it was Sir who was garnering most of the conversation. She was aware of the curious eyes on her, no doubt speculating as to who this female companion was.

  Finally the question was put into words. “And who is this charming young lady of yours?” a middle-aged woman, who Sir called Elisabeth, asked. She flashed Teagan a dazzling smile that was at once welcoming and questioning. Teagan had the notion she was being measured, possibly to see how well she looked on the arm of the most important man in the room.

  Sir never missed a beat. “May I present my fiancée, Teagan. Teagan, Ms. Elisabeth Parker, my good friend since… How long has it been, Liz? Ten years or more?”

  Teagan missed the response. She was too busy reeling from the newest twist to this ridiculous pretense.

  “Fiancée?” she demanded the moment they had escaped the group.

  “Keep your voice down,” he answered, never taking his eyes from the crowd they navigated. “I didn’t plan on it. The lie got away from me. Anyway, what difference does it make? Fiancée or girlfriend, you’re getting paid the same.”

  “I suppose…” She trailed off. Why did it make a difference?

  They were approaching one of the larger tables at the center of the room. Here, nearly a dozen strangers—or strangers to Teagan—sat in conversation. It was obvious as they approached who dominated this group. An older man—the word elderly hardly seemed appropriate for him—had the attention of the entire table as he leaned forward recounting some anecdote that had the other ladies and gentlemen in varying states of laughter.

  Sir pulled her to a halt behind this man. “What, Grandfather? Not waiting for us?” he asked over the older man’s shoulder. The other man turned and when he did, Teagan felt as if she were looking at one of those computer generated photos that showed what an individual might look like with ten years of age added to him. Or in this case, closer to forty years added.

  From a distance, the silvery hair and the shrunken frame had thrown her briefly. But the moment she caught a glimpse of the aging man’s face, there was no failing to notice the resemblance he shared with his grandson. His face was older, the skin loose and heavily lined. But they shared the same bone structure. And Teagan thought the
moment she felt the older man’s gaze sweep over her, the same dark eyes. Only where Sir’s had a dangerous, brooding quality, the elder Mr. Rotham had a shrewder glint.

  He said now, “You can’t expect the whole party to be put on hold just because you weren’t of a mind to show yourself on time, boy.” Despite his rough words, the lightness of his tone suggested this was their customary banter. Teagan had the immediate sense nothing Sir did could displease his grandfather for long.

  Already the old man was shifting his attention from Sir to her. “But forgive me. I’m being remiss in my duties as host.” He rose from the table and following a discreet nudge from Sir, Teagan offered him her hand, which he took in both of his. They were surprisingly strong hands, large and long-fingered, reminding Teagan all too familiarly of those of his grandson.

  She sensed he assessed her as carefully as she did him. “So you’re the amazing young woman who has managed to steal the heart of my roguish grandson, are you?” he asked dryly. Again, there was a directness to his words that would have suited Sir well.

  For a half second, Teagan fumbled for an appropriate response. “I—wouldn’t use the word amazing, sir,” she offered, with only a hint of hesitation.

  “Ah, but you see, he does. I can’t count the occasions I’ve listened to him gush like some lovesick puppy over your attributes.”

  Teagan imagined that as a slight exaggeration. She couldn’t imagine Sir gushing over anything, and a lovesick puppy was the last description she should ever have applied to him. But aloud she only said, “I’m sure your grandson has overestimated my worth.”

  “I doubt that. Whatever his faults, Javen hasn’t the sin of flattery in him. No, I suspect you’ve been described very aptly, Teagan.”

  Teagan? She blinked and asked, she hoped pleasantly, “You know my name?” She tried to smooth the accusation from the words with a polite smile.

  Mr. Rotham, the elder, laughed. “Just because I’m old, my dear, doesn’t mean I’m deaf. A man would have to be, not to have caught your name after hearing Javen babble on about you over these past weeks.”

  “Weeks?” She had been under the impression Sir had only just recently made these plans for deceiving his grandfather. How could he have been laying the groundwork for it for weeks?

  At this point, Sir interrupted, looking slightly annoyed. “That’s enough, Grandfather. You give me away. A man’s compliments to his love are always most effective when offered from his own lips.” He gently took her hand from his grandfather’s and pressed it into his own.

  His simple touch unexpectedly set Teagan’s blood racing, even though she understood it was merely another part of his charade. She couldn’t explain what caused her sudden awareness of him, she only hoped he didn’t feel the sweatiness of her palm or the faint trembling of her hand.

  Unaware of her silent emotions, Sir’s grandfather chuckled. “Giving too much away, am I? Well, she’ll forgive me, I’m sure. Nobody expects tact from a feebleminded old man.” Teagan thought the speculative look he cast her, however, was anything but feebleminded, as he continued, “Come, come sit down, both of you. Javen, let us introduce Teagan to our dinner companions.” Javen began to pull out a seat for her nearby, but his grandfather shook his head. “Nothing doing, boy. You’ve had her to yourself long enough already, and I suspect you will keep her still longer tonight. But for now, it’s my turn to get to know this creature of perfection.”

  Teagan detected the mockery in his voice every time he referred to her by some lavish description. She hadn’t caught it in their first exchange, but it was growing clearer to her the longer she was around him. Her first thought was panic. He knows, she thought. Or, he was suspicious at least. That concern was strengthened by Sir’s faintly reluctant expression, as he pulled out the chair beside his grandfather and ushered her into it before taking the only other empty seat two chairs down. Clearly, he would rather have been near enough to moderate any conversation exchanged between the two, but was helpless to do so without making a scene.

  As the elder Rotham turned speculative, gleaming eyes on her, she tried not to squirm in her seat.

  Chapter 24

  “Now,” Sir’s grandfather said, “let’s meet your fellow guests. Mr. Miles, that’s this pompous looking fellow in the cheap suit…” He indicated a short, fair-haired man of middle years, who indeed suited his description. Mr. Miles laughed off the insults and offered her a warm greeting. “Edward and Jane Donally,” Mr. Rotham continued. These were a nice looking couple around their sixties, who were both attired in matching shades of black and white.

  And so they went around the table until Teagan had made the acquaintance of every stranger present. She had no hope of remembering their names, but felt fairly confident she had at least got past the introductions without making any glaring mistakes. Sound cultured, Sir had instructed her, and she was doing her best. From down the table, it was hard to read whether he was satisfied with her efforts or not.

  But if she had thought her awkward moment in the spotlight was over once the other diners had returned to their plates and their conversations, she was mistaken.

  “Well, now that’s over with,” Mr. Rotham said lowly, “you and I have the opportunity for a little discussion.”

  Teagan swallowed. A discussion with this discerning man was the last thing she wanted. He was as bad as Sir.

  Flushing, she cleared her throat. “That would be lovely,” she said, her voice coming out a little higher in pitch than she had intended. She tried for a more casual note. “Sir has told me so much about you. I was beginning to wonder whether we would ever meet.”

  “Sir?” he questioned, raising his silver brows.

  Teagan stumbled. “It’s, uh—”

  “A pet name,” Sir’s voice put in from farther down the table. Evidently, he was managing to keep an ear on the conversation from his distant seat.

  “A pet name. How touching,” his grandfather said, not even glancing his way. Clearly, he had picked out the weakest link in the pair and meant to focus all his energies there. “And what all has my grandson shared with you about this wicked old man? Did he tell you how hard-hearted I was when he didn’t keep at his studies in school?”

  “I think he did mention it,” Teagan said vaguely, feeling relief that he seemed to be answering his own question. She continued, “He also mentioned that you founded NationBank and that it was you who inspire him today to build the business to its full potential.”

  Sir hadn’t said exactly that, but the information seemed to please the old man at least. “Did he indeed?” he questioned with a faint smile. “I had no idea I’d been such an encouragement.” His expression turned shrewd again. “You have me at a disadvantage, you know. For while you know something of my past and of my family, I know very little of you, save of your charming traits of personality. My grandson has been most free with those, but has been a little remiss, I think, in speaking of other aspects of your life. Tell me, what sort of career are you in?”

  Teagan hesitated. “Oh—office titles aren’t important. In reality, I’m little more than a personal assistant,” she said, thinking her odd favors for Sir were really the only kind of work she could lay claim to.

  “Assistant?” The elder Mr. Rotham looked surprised. “My grandson had indicated you were in some sort of successful vocation.” It wasn’t quite a question but obviously he hoped she would explain more.

  Luckily, at that very moment the band at the center of the room started up a new tune. Teagan couldn’t say where her boldness came from, except that it was born of a sudden desperation to escape this questioning. She shoved back from the table so hastily she nearly tipped over the champagne glass at her elbow and leapt to her feet.

  Old Mr. Rotham looked startled as she stuck her hand out. “Mr. Rotham, do you dance?”

  The man’s silver eyebrows climbed back down in his forehead and a wolfish gleam entered his eyes. “Not recently, but when such a charming woman requests it,
how can I refuse?”

  He took her proffered hand firmly as he rose from his seat, his eyes mocking the unspoken suggestion that he was so feeble he needed her aid. Teagan could have winced, both at her impulsive invitation and at her thoughtless implication. The man was seventy-something—not a hundred.

  Her thoughts were racing as they joined the stream of couples filtering their way onto the dance floor. Luckily, she had little time to consider the fact she had always been clumsy on her feet. The elder Mr. Rotham didn’t give her nerves the opportunity to get the better of her.

  “I’m glad we’ve managed to escape the others for a few moments,” he said as they stepped onto the floor.

  If Teagan started a little at his arm reaching out to encircle her waist, he pretended not to notice. As he took her hand, she observed again, that his weren’t the vein-lined, age-spotted hands she would expect on a man of his years. Somehow she wished they were just a little more feeble and grandfatherly; a tremor here and there would have gone a long way toward easing her discomfort.

  “Why are you glad to be away?” she responded to his earlier comment. “You don’t enjoy the company of the others?”

  He gave a slight shrug. “It’s nothing personal. I don’t enjoy anyone’s intrusion when there’s an attractive young woman around to be monopolized.”

  Teagan decided to be direct. “Mr. Rotham, are you flirting with me?”

  He gave a half-laugh that sounded disconcertingly like that of his grandson. “Only a little. I wouldn’t dare move in on my grandson’s territory. An old fox is too wise to battle a young wolf. There. Does that set you more at ease?”

  Oddly enough, it did. Teagan found herself feeling unexpectedly drawn to this old gentleman—not in the way she was drawn to Sir of course, but there was something about him that thawed her cold fears a little. His laughing eyes and open honesty made her feel he would make a trustworthy friend—something she was sorely in need of at the moment. If only all her pent up secrets were about anyone else beside his grandson, she might have considered him as a confidant.