Beauty and the Wolf / Their Miracle Twins (3 page)

“I need to talk to you about something. Do you have a few minutes?”

Clearly surprised, he cocked his head to the side, considering her for a brief moment. “Sure.” He tossed a roll of blueprints into the open drawer, pushed it closed and moved away from the cabinet. “Come on in. Have a seat.” He gestured at the two leather armchairs facing the desk. “I’d offer you something to drink, but the office staff has the day off and the coffee is probably cold sludge left over from yesterday.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” Frankie crossed to the chair and sat, perching on the edge of the comfortable seat.

Eli half sat on the edge of the desk facing her. The position had him much too close to her. She had to look up to meet his gaze. At eye level, the worn denim of his jeans stretched across powerful thighs. Determinedly, she kept her gaze on his face.

“So, tell me,” he prompted when she hesitated. “What brings you to Ballard this morning?”

Now that she was here, faced with explaining her plan to Eli, Frankie was reluctant to begin the conversation.

“What were you looking for when I came in?” she asked, not answering his question. “You sounded frustrated.”

Eli glanced over his shoulder at the cabinet. “Frustrated isn’t a strong enough word,” he said, his gaze
swinging back to meet hers. “My brother Connor told his secretary to send the blueprints down to the job site, but she sent the wrong ones. I came back to pick them up, but I’ll be damned if I can find them.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder at the cabinet with its long drawers. “They’re not in the project drawer.” He sounded thoroughly disgusted.

“Can you call him on his cell and ask him?” Frankie suggested.

“I tried that,” he told her. “He’s not answering.”

“I’m sorry,” she said with sympathy. “I know how disturbing it can be to have a project stopped. I hate wasting time while I wait for someone to respond before I can move forward.”

He nodded, his blue eyes warming. “It’s bloody annoying,” he agreed.

Eli studied Frankie through narrowed eyes.

She’s nervous,
he thought with surprise. Making small talk about his search for the blueprints was only a ruse to delay telling him why she was here.

When he’d swung around and saw her framed in the office doorway, he’d been slammed with the same jolt of awareness that had plagued him ever since they’d shared a kiss at her birthday party four months earlier. Though it was meant to be casual, he hadn’t been able to forget the feel and taste of Frankie’s soft, lush mouth under his.

She’d featured prominently in more than one hot, sweaty dream ever since, leaving him sleep deprived and cranky the next morning.

He raked his fingers through his hair and shifted, forcing himself to remember the beautiful blonde sitting in the chair facing him was Justin’s cousin and, therefore, off-limits. “Come on, Frankie,” he coaxed. “Tell me why you’re here.”

She shifted in her chair, slim fingers tucking a strand of hair behind one small ear. She sat primly, feet aligned on the floor, hands now resting quietly on her lap. “I’ve known you a long time, Eli,” she began. “And more importantly, you’ve known my uncle Harry since you were a teenager. I’m sure you’re aware of Harry’s scheme to force his sons to marry, and how Justin fell in love with Lily in spite of Harry’s interference.”

“Of course.” Eli nodded. “Justin told me before the wedding.”

“What you might not be aware of,” Frankie went on, “is that Harry seems to think that since his scheming to force his sons to marry turned out so well, he’s decided to become a matchmaker for the Fairchilds. All four of us—including me.”

Eli was stunned. “You’re kidding” was all he could manage to get out. He shook his head in disbelief, but Frankie’s face didn’t look as if this was a joke. “That doesn’t make any sense. He damn near ruined all four of his sons’ chances at marrying the women they wanted.”

“I know!” Frankie leaned forward. “And he almost did the same with Tommi and Bobbie! Apparently, he thinks he’s successful, however, because he’s turned his sights on me.”

“What the hell?” Eli felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Who does Harry want you to marry?”

“Nicholas Dean.”

Oh, hell no!
Eli’s rejection of the possibility that Frankie would marry Nicholas Dean was visceral and immediate. Somehow, he kept himself from snarling aloud. “Why did he pick Dean?” he asked, aware his voice was deeper, rougher than it had been only moments before.

Frankie waved one small, graceful hand. “Who knows? I think he picked Nicholas because Dean Construction was on Harry’s radar. Harry told me he’d run the usual background check on the company when it was shortlisted for the contract to build HuntCom’s new building in south Seattle. Evidently, Harry was impressed with Nicholas’s work ethic, plus the fact that he’s single, so Harry decided he should encourage Nicholas to ask me out.”

“And you’re not on board with the plan?”

“No!” Frankie frowned at him, her brown eyes sparking with gold. “I’m not.”

“I see.” Relief flooded Eli, the corners of his mouth lifting in a grin. “And you want me to tell Harry you’re not interested in dating Nicholas?” he guessed.

“I’ve already told Uncle Harry I’m not interested,” she informed him. “It didn’t faze him, and I suspect he’s working on a scheme to push me and Nicholas together even as we speak.”

Eli’s smile disappeared.

“I’ve watched Uncle Harry interfere in Tommi’s
and Bobbie’s love lives,” Frankie went on. “And I’m convinced the only way to stop his matchmaking is to convince him that I’m taken. That’s where you come in.”

Eli blinked. “That’s where I come in?” he repeated.

She nodded decisively. “I have zero interest in getting married—and the general consensus of opinion in the family is that you don’t, either. Which makes you the perfect person for my plan.”

Eli narrowed his eyes over her thoughtfully. “I’m not sure I’m following you. Maybe you should give me the abbreviated version.”

Frankie waved her hands expressively, her expression wry. “I’m sorry—let me back up. The other night at Harry’s house when he was telling me all the reasons I should want to date and perhaps marry Nicholas Dean, you were standing across the room holding Ava. I’m afraid I used you to distract Harry and asked him why he didn’t suggest you as a potential husband. He told me he doubted you would marry. He said you seemed perfectly happy with your life as it was. Well …” She shrugged. “The moment Harry said that, I realized you were the perfect person for me to date, because neither of us wants to get married. When Harry kept droning on about all of Nicholas’s good qualities, I had a brainstorm.”

“A brainstorm,” Eli repeated. He realized belatedly that he kept repeating her statements and told himself to stop.

“Yes, exactly.” She leaned forward, her brown eyes
gleaming with determination. “Which brings me to the reason I came to see you today. I need to convince Harry I’m madly in love and deeply committed to someone so he’ll stop trying to pair me up with single men. But I’m not in love, and there’s no one on my horizon. So I need someone to
pretend
to be involved with, while you,” she continued, pointing at him, “would like Wolf Construction to win the contract for the new HuntCom building. So … my proposal is that we team up. If you’ll pretend to be involved with me, I can almost guarantee Uncle Harry will move Wolf Construction to the top of the list for the contract. He’s already narrowed it down to you and Nicholas, and he as good as admitted to me that he’s inclined to award contracts to family or close family friends.”

“You want me to date you in order to get Harry to give my company a contract?” Eli asked, his tone neutral.

“Not exactly,” she told him. “I’m only suggesting that we both have something to gain—and frankly, I need a pretend-date/boyfriend as fast as possible. Harry, my mother and sisters already know and adore you, so they won’t bat an eye if it’s you I claim to have fallen madly in love with. If I introduce someone new, they’re going to be more skeptical. I want Harry off my back. Heaven knows what trouble he can stir up for me.” She shuddered.

Eli stared at her for a long moment. He didn’t want her believing he was the kind of man who would use her to gain a lucrative construction contract. On the
other hand, there was no way he’d let her be courted by Nicholas Dean.

Not that Dean was a bad guy. He was, in fact, everything Harry thought he was—smart, successful and played a mean game of pool. Just the kind of man a woman could easily fall in love with.

Which was why there was no way in hell Eli was going to let him near Frankie, not if he could help it. He knew he was being territorial, but he couldn’t seem to help it.

Probably because I want to be the one burning up the sheets with Frankie,
he thought. In fact, he realized with a start, he’d felt that way for months.

And it was time he did something about it.

“Well,” she said expectantly, interrupting his thoughts. “Will you do it?”

“Yeah,” he said with a slow drawl. “I will.” He stood, bending to cup her elbow and lift her from the chair. “Let’s go get some coffee and talk about the details.”

He hustled her out of the office and down the street to Zena’s Café before she had time to change her mind.

“So,” he said when they were seated in a booth with steaming mugs in front of them, “how do you envision going forward with this campaign to fool Harry?”

“I thought we’d keep it simple,” Frankie told him. “We can work out a list of events Harry is likely to attend. Then we can appear together and pretend to be in love while Harry’s watching. Hopefully, it won’t take long to convince him. Once he accepts that, he can cross me off his matchmaking list and sign your company
contract for the new HuntCom campus, and we can go back to our normal lives.”

“Harry’s pretty shrewd—I’m not sure he’s going to be as easy to convince as you seem to think,” Eli told her. “He didn’t get his reputation as a shark in the financial world by being dense.”

“But that’s business.” Frankie propped her forearms on the polished wood tabletop and leaned forward. “When it comes to personal relationships, Harry can be amazingly unaware. Look at the women he married—disasters, every one of them.”

“You’ve got a point.” Eli shrugged. “It’s hard to argue with his marital record. The only good thing about Harry’s ex-wives is that he stopped getting married after making four bad choices.”

“Exactly.” Frankie nodded decisively. “I truly anticipate he’ll accept our romantic smoke screen as fact. I don’t think he’ll look deeper.”

“Nevertheless,” Eli told her. “If we’re going to do this, let’s do it right. Remember,” he cautioned her, “it’s not just Harry we have to convince. Your mother or sisters are likely to be attending the same functions as Harry. If we’re not believable, they’ll never buy it. Cornelia’s not going to be easy to fool—especially when it comes to one of her daughters. And if Cornelia knows we’re faking, she’s likely to tell Harry.”

Frankie frowned, unconsciously winding a lock of hair around her forefinger in a gesture Eli had noticed her make before when she was deep in thought.

“You’re right,” she murmured. She looked up at Eli,
her brown eyes alive with bright determination, gold flecks swimming in the chocolate-brown depths. “So we can’t let her know we’re pretending. Think you can pull it off?”

Her tone matched the challenge in the quick curve of her lips.

“Absolutely.” He lifted a brow, tossing the challenge back at her with a slow smile. “The question is, can you?”

She laughed, shrugging in a quick, elegant shift of her shoulders beneath the tailored blue suit jacket. “A woman learns to fake being interested in a guy before she’s out of junior high school. It’s a rite of passage.”

“Yeah?” Startled and intrigued, Eli lifted an eyebrow in inquiry. “Why in junior high?”

“Because at my school, that was the first year of boy-girl dances, and every girl wanted a date. Unfortunately, the girls outnumbered the boys two-to-one. Which meant there was a lot of competition for invitations to the school functions.”

Eli swept a slow, appreciative gaze over her face, hair, down her throat and the swell of her breasts beneath the cream blouse she wore under her suit jacket. The table edge prevented him from going lower, and he returned to meet her eyes. “I bet you never had to compete for a date. I’m guessing the boys were lined up next to your school locker, waiting for you to choose.”

She threw back her head and laughed, the throaty musical sound stroking over Eli as if she’d touched him.

“Not hardly,” she said when she stopped chuckling,
her eyes dancing. “When I was thirteen, I wore braces, was skinny—straight up and down without a curve in sight—spent most of my time with my nose buried in a book, and last but not least, I was taller than any boy in my class. So, no … I wasn’t exactly the most desirable date on anyone’s list.” She lifted her cup and sipped, eyeing him with amusement.

“No kidding?” Bemused, he stared at her. “I’m trying to imagine you as a skinny thirteen-year-old with crooked teeth, and it just doesn’t compute.”

“I’ll show you one of my seventh-grade class pictures sometime. Trust me—I’m not lying. In fact …” She considered for a moment. “It’s entirely possible that the reality of my thirteen-year-old nerdiness was much worse than I’m describing.”

Eli laughed, charmed by her candid comments. “Why don’t I remember you at thirteen?” he asked.

“Because you and Justin were freshmen in college that year and really busy—I hardly saw Justin that year, except for dinner on Christmas Day,” Frankie told him.

“That’s right,” Eli mused, thinking back. “First year at the UW was crazy busy. Now I wish I’d taken time to visit at Christmas. If I had, I could have seen you in braces.”

“You didn’t miss much,” she said dryly. “How about you? I’m guessing you weren’t a skinny nerd with braces when you were thirteen.”

Eli considered. “You’d have to ask the girls in my class whether they thought I was a nerd,” he told her. “I
didn’t have braces, but I earned good grades and I was certainly a lot skinnier than I am now.”