The Engagement Project / Her Surprise Hero: The Engagement Project / Her Surprise Hero

And so it begins, Megan thought, but managed to hold back her sigh.

“This is Gage Richmond,” she said. Then, to Gage, “My great-aunt, Vivian Roarke.”

“Richmond,” she said, and narrowed her gaze. “As in Pharmaceuticals?”

Before Gage could respond, Lillian glided down the stairs in a cloud of flowing silk and sweet perfume.

“There you are, Megan.” Lillian smiled at her daughter. “Your sister was just wondering what was keeping you.”

Megan couldn’t remember ever having been so grateful for her mother’s interruption, despite the subtle censure in her statement.

Then her mother looked at Gage and smiled. “Although I think I’ve found the answer to that question.”

It wasn’t quite so easy to hold back her sigh this time. “Mom, this is Gage Richmond. Gage, my mother, Lillian.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Gage said.

“The pleasure is mine,” Lillian said. “And I’m so grateful you’re here with Megan this evening.”

It was an effort to keep the smile on her face, to pretend her mother’s comment hadn’t been a slap in the face.

Of course Lillian was grateful for Gage’s presence—it allowed her to pretend, at least for one night, that her daughter wasn’t a complete social misfit, who never had a date for family events.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Megan said, to no one in particular, “I’m going to find Ashley.”

Gage caught up with her at the top of the stairs. “You weren’t trying to abandon me down there, were you?”

“Haven’t you ever heard the expression ‘every man for himself’?” she asked.

“Sure,” he agreed, reaching for her hand. “Except that tonight I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

He stroked his thumb across her knuckles. Megan’s eyes widened and the pulse at the base of her throat jumped.

He hadn’t really thought about what he was doing, hadn’t intended to change the rules of their game, but suddenly, there was an awareness simmering between them that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe it just hadn’t been acknowledged.

She swallowed. “All I need is a couple hours of your time.” Her gaze darted away from his, but not before he saw the nerves lurking beneath the surface. “And maybe a glass of wine.”

He could use a drink himself, and was grateful to see that there wasn’t much of a line at the bar. “Red or white?” he asked her.

“Oh. I didn’t mean—you don’t have to—”

“Red or white?” he asked again.

Her cheeks flushed. “Red.”

He gave her hand a friendly squeeze before releasing it. “I’ll be right back.”

She watched him make his way toward the bar, and wondered if she’d imagined the zing she’d felt when he held her hand, and the heat she’d seen in his eyes when they’d locked on hers.

She saw her cousin Camilla in line in front of Gage, and she turned slightly to speak to him, smiling flirtatiously and laughing at whatever he’d said in response.

Yes, she’d definitely imagined it, because Gage Richmond couldn’t possibly be attracted to her—not when a woman like Camilla was around.

When the bartender gave Camilla her drink, she fluttered her fingertips at Gage before moving away.

“You can thank me later.”

Megan turned to Paige. “For what?”

“The fact that you got a pedicure and a gorgeous date for the evening.”

“You made sure the former was contingent on the latter,” Megan reminded her. “But speaking of dates.?”

“Ben’s on his way,” Paige said. “He got caught up at the office.”

“On a Saturday?”

“He’s got an important deposition on Monday.”

“You’ve got to start dating men in another profession.”

“Where would I ever meet any?”

“You’re asking me?”

Paige glanced toward the bar again. “Hey, does Gage have a brother?”

“He does. Married.”

“Damn.”

Megan chuckled.

“Oh, double damn,” Paige muttered, and grabbed Megan’s arm. “Gage is in trouble.”

She turned and winced. Gage might have survived his encounter with cousin Camilla, but now Aunt Vivian had moved in. “If he comes back after a one-on-one with Aunt Viv instead of bolting for the door, I’ll be surprised.”

“Forget surprised,” Paige said. “I’d snap him up and never let him go.”

Megan shook her head regretfully, because she knew that wasn’t an option.

While he was waiting at the bar, Gage noticed that Megan’s cousin, Paige, had joined her, so he ordered a drink for her, too. And when he turned away with his hands full, he found himself confronted by Megan’s elderly aunt.

The older woman’s brightly painted lips curved. “Gage, wasn’t it? I was hoping we’d have a chance to chat.”

“Really?” he said. “About what?”

“Oh, I just wanted to make sure that Megan was taking good care of you.”

“I have no complaints,” he assured her.

“Has she introduced you to my granddaughter, Camilla?” Vivian nodded in the direction of the attractive blonde who’d chatted him up while he was waiting in line, and whom he’d noticed had guzzled down her gin and tonic like it was water.

“No, but we met,” he told her.

“I was so pleased to see her here tonight,” she confided. “I was so worried that she wouldn’t want to come, since she just broke up with her boyfriend.”

She paused, as if to give him a chance to respond. Since he had no idea what kind of response was appropriate, he remained silent.

“He was a college professor,” the elderly woman continued. “It was a messy split, very unfortunate. But I’m sure she’ll find someone else.

“She’s a lovely girl—and smart. Graduated cum laude with a degree in art history from the Weinberg College of Arts & Sciences at Northwestern.”

He nodded politely. “Megan went to Northwestern, too, didn’t she?”

Vivian nodded, though her scowl warned that she didn’t appreciate the reminder.

Of course, she wouldn’t, because Gage knew that Megan had graduated summa cum laude with a master’s in science, which more than trumped Camilla’s accomplishment.

“Megan always had brains,” Vivian acknowledged, with more than a hint of reluctance. “That was apparent at an early age. And a good thing, too, because she was a homely child, and had no idea how to relate to other children her own age.”

Gage stared at her. “You do know that you’re talking about my date?”

She waved a hand. “As if anyone would believe a man like you could be seriously interested in Megan.”

“A man like me?”

“Handsome. Successful. Sophisticated.”

Rich.

Of course, she wasn’t crass enough to mention his financial status, but he’d seen the gleam in her eye when she’d caught his last name. A gleam that he’d seen in far too many eyes in his thirty-two years, but never in Megan’s. Whatever reasons she had for inviting him to be here tonight, it wasn’t because she had visions of landing a wealthy husband.

And as uncertain as he’d been about his reasons for agreeing to this “date” in the first place, he was enjoying being with Megan. Sure, she was more introverted than the women he usually dated, but once she’d started to open up, he found himself really enjoying her company.

She was kind and generous and insightful—and smart. He’d never concerned himself with a woman’s mind before. So long as his date was attractive and fun and knew that he wasn’t looking for anything long-term, she was his kind of woman.

Megan was different. She was attractive—a lot more so than he’d suspected. And it wasn’t just the mile-long legs or the unexpected curves put on display by the dress she was wearing. It was the capability of those slender shoulders, the strength in her delicate hands and the mystery of those stunning eyes.

“And Megan is beautiful, smart and talented,” he said, searching for—and finding her—across the room. “So why is it you think a man like me wouldn’t be interested in a woman like her?”

As if sensing his stare, Megan turned and caught his eye. Her lips curved, just a little, and something inside of him stirred, responded.

There was no longer any doubt in his mind that—if circumstances were different—she was a woman he could be interested in. But he had his eyes on a bigger prize and so he reminded himself that all he wanted from Megan was her cooperation with respect to his plan.

Okay, maybe that wasn’t all he wanted, but it was all he needed. And he wouldn’t let himself forget that.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” Gage said, not caring whether she did or not, “I’d like to get back to my date.”

Megan and Gage found an empty table on the edge of the dance floor and settled in with their drinks. Paige came by to introduce her date when Ben finally arrived, and the four of them chatted for a while, but their conversation was continuously interrupted by friends and family who stopped by the table on the pretense of wanting to say hello to Megan.

But she knew the truth—they all wanted the scoop on Gage. And while she knew she’d brought this on herself by inviting him, she decided she’d rather be thought of as “poor lonely Megan” than attract this kind of unwanted attention.

But Gage was a good sport about it. And he had the grace to pretend he was oblivious when other women tried to flirt with him—while Megan was sitting right beside him. Of course, that only proved what she already knew, that no one believed he could be seriously interested in her.

So lost was she in these thoughts that she jolted when he put a hand on her arm.

“Do you want to dance?”

She hadn’t realized the band had begun to play until he asked, and as tempted as she was by the desire to be held in his arms, her desire to fade in the background was still stronger. “I’d rather not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not a very good dancer.”

“Then think of it as practice.” He pushed back his chair. “Because you’ll have to dance at the wedding.”

“I really don’t—” From the corner of her eye, she saw her mother moving in their direction. With a resigned sigh, Megan took his proffered hand and rose to her feet.

He smiled. “You were saying?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a better offer,” she ad-libbed.

The sparkle in his eye told her that he knew exactly why she’d changed her mind, but he made no further comment.

Gage was a great dancer, which didn’t surprise Megan in the least. She imagined that anything Gage Richmond chose to do, he did well.

It made her wonder—if only for a moment—what it would be like to make love with him. No doubt he would be very, very good at that, but she quickly shoved that fantasy aside before it had a chance to go any further.

“Relax.” Gage murmured the word close to her ear. “Block out everything else but the sound of the music.”

His breath was warm on her cheek, his tone soothing. But Megan could barely hear the music over the pounding of her heart, the rush of the blood in her veins.

“I’m not very comfortable in crowds,” she said, because it was true and because it was easier to admit that than to reveal that every nerve ending in her body was on high alert because of him.

“Forget the crowd,” he told her. “There’s just you and me.”

If he was trying to get her to relax, that certainly wasn’t going to do it.

Conversation, she decided, would be safer than letting her imagination run wild.

“I got the memo about the staff meeting on Monday,” she said.

“No shoptalk on a date,” Gage chided gently.

She frowned. “Then what are we supposed to talk about?”

“Anything but work.”

Which was easy to say, but Megan didn’t really know how to talk about anything else. “So, how about those Yankees?”

Gage chuckled.

“What?”

“It’s the beginning of March.”

“So?”

“They’re still in spring training in Florida.”

“Oh.”

“And anyway, I’m a BoSox fan.”

“Really?”

“Five years at Harvard made an impression,” he told her. “Which makes baseball a taboo subject at family dinners.”

“Your dad and your brother are both Yankees fans?” she guessed.

“They are,” he agreed. “But neither of them are as devoted as my sister-in-law.”

“So what do you talk about at family dinners?” she wondered.

“Anything else. Although with four kids around the table, any kind of conversation can be difficult.”

“It sounds like you’re close to your family.”

“Aren’t you?”

She considered the question for a moment before responding. “To my sister, yes. And Paige is like a second sister. But my mom?” She shook her head. “We just seem to have different ideas about everything. In particular, she’s never understood why I believe my work is more important than finding a husband.”

“I get the same thing from my family. Not that they want me to find a husband—” he grinned”—but they do think I would benefit from settling down.”

She was surprised that he was telling her this. Then she realized that he was telling her because she was safe, because she didn’t have any illusions that he was talking about settling down with her.

“What do you think?” she asked him.

“I don’t think I’m the settling type,” he told her. “Although my father insists that I just haven’t been dating the right kind of woman.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed there was a kind you’d missed.”

She dropped her head, mortified by what she’d just said.

But Gage only chuckled as he led her off of the dance floor when the song finished. “You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Yes, you did,” he refuted, clearly unoffended. “And it’s okay. I have dated a lot of women.”

“I was surprised you didn’t already have plans when I asked you to come here tonight,” she admitted.

He shrugged as he drew her out onto the balcony. “I’ve taken a break from the social scene the last couple of months.”

“I guess the rumor mill has been kept busy recycling old news, then.”

“Of course, there will be all kinds of new gossip now that we’re an item.”

“We’re not.” she began, then realized he was teasing.

“Maybe we’re not,” he agreed. “But you don’t have to sound appalled at the prospect of having your name linked with mine.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“What did you mean?”

“Just that no one would ever believe we were a couple.”

He thought about what her aunt had said to him earlier, and her misguided matchmaking attempts. “You’re right. We definitely need to work on that.”

“How?”

“For starters, it would help if you didn’t freeze up every time I touched you,” Gage told her. “Just relax.”

“Relax? Around those people?”

He smiled. “I don’t think your family is the biggest problem.”

“That’s because they’re not your family,” she muttered.

He settled his hands on her shoulders.

She stilled, every muscle in her body going rigid.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” he said.

“What?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

He tugged her closer.

Her heart pounded harder.

He dipped his head and whispered close to her ear.

“You could at least pretend you’re happy to be alone with me.”

Happy was hardly the word she would use to describe how she was feeling. Surprised. Confused. Aroused. Oh, yeah, definitely aroused.

What was it about this man that sent her hormones rocketing like Fourth of July firecrackers? And all he’d done was put his hands on her shoulders. Okay, his hands were moving now, stroking down her arms, and slowly upward again, sending tingles through her whole body.

“Except that we’re not entirely alone,” he admitted softly.

“What?” She knew it was his proximity that was wreaking havoc with her ability to concentrate on his words, the tantalizing scent of him teasing her nostrils, taunting her hormones.

“Your cousin Camilla. She’s standing next to that potted palm beside the door, pretending not to watch us.”

“That sounds like something she would do,” Megan admitted, more than a little irritated that her cousin was lurking in the shadows, probably waiting to catch Gage alone so she could hit on him.

“Maybe we should give her something to talk about.” He lowered his head toward her.

“I appreciate what you’re doing,” she said. “But I think—”

“Stop thinking,” he said, and brushed his lips gently against hers.

So gently, and so briefly, that Megan wasn’t sure the contact had even happened.

“Just for two minutes,” he said, “stop thinking, stop worrying about your family and concentrate on this.”

Then he kissed her again—and she melted like the chocolate fondue on the dessert table.

She’d been kissed before. She’d been touched and groped and she’d had sex. She might not be a woman of vast experience, but she wasn’t innocent. At least, she hadn’t thought so.

But she’d never been kissed like Gage was kissing her.

She could taste the beer he’d drank, and something else—an elemental male flavor that went straight to her bloodstream and made her head spin and her knees tremble.

Then his hands slipped around her waist, drew her nearer. She could feel the heat and strength of his palms even through the fabric of her dress, and she found herself wondering how they would feel on her bare skin. Even knowing it was a fantasy that could never come true didn’t stop her from thinking about it, wanting it, wanting him.

Her lips parted on a sigh, and his tongue dipped inside. A lazy stroke, gently teasing, hotly tempting.

This was wrong. She shouldn’t be doing this. She certainly shouldn’t be pouring her heart and her soul into a kiss that wasn’t intended to mean anything. Or maybe it was just long-dormant hormones reawakened. Whatever the reason, Megan was helpless to resist the seduction of his kiss.

She felt as if she was drunk on champagne, though she’d only had a single glass of wine. Her heart was pounding, her blood was pulsing and her body was filled with a yearning she didn’t think she’d ever experienced before.

His hands slid slowly up her back, then down again.

It had been so long since she’d had a man’s hands on her, and Gage’s felt good, so good.

And then his hands stopped moving and his lips eased away from her.

“Well, that should give your cousin something to think about.”

Cousin?

Megan blinked the clouds from her eyes.

Right. He’d kissed her because he knew Camilla was watching them, because he was helping her fool her family into believing they were really a couple. But for a minute there, it had seemed so real, so perfect. And she should have known it was too perfect to be real.

She took a step back, giving herself some physical space while she drew in a deep breath and reined in her rampant hormones.

Thank goodness it was only an act—she wouldn’t stand a hope of resisting him if he ever truly turned his attentions in her direction.

“Meg?”

She pushed those thoughts aside and turned her attention back to her date.

“Are you ready to go back inside?” he asked.

She managed a smile. “Sure.”

Gage was careful not to touch Megan as he followed her back into the dining room, careful to remind himself that the kiss was just for show. A calculated move to convince Megan’s nosy cousin to mind her own business. It wasn’t supposed to mean anything. And it sure as hell wasn’t supposed to leave him wanting a lot more.

But looking at her now, at her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, he couldn’t deny the want and hunger that stirred inside of him. Completely unexpected—and undeniably real.

“I seem to recall something being said about food,” he commented, as if the ache in his belly could be assuaged by some crackers and brie.

“Hot and cold hors d’oeuvres,” Megan said, glancing over at the crowd around the buffet table. “Or we could skip out and go somewhere else to grab a burger and fries.”

He smiled at the hopeful tone in her voice. “What would your sister say about you skipping out?”

“It’s not like I would tell her.”

“Don’t you think she’d notice?”

She sighed. “Yeah, Ashley probably would.”

He heard what she didn’t say—Ashley would notice but no one else would.

She was obviously used to being overlooked, ignored. And he suspected that she might even prefer it that way. Still, it had to rankle a little that most of her family seemed to think she was below their notice. It certainly rankled him on her behalf.

He frowned at that, recognizing that he was venturing into dangerous territory with Megan. Or maybe it wasn’t dangerous territory at all. Maybe the urge to protect her from the criticisms and insensitivity of her family was similar to what a brother would feel for his sister.

Not having a sister, he couldn’t say for sure. But he did know that he would never have kissed a sister the way he’d kissed Megan. And he wouldn’t be thinking about kissing her again, wanting to devour the softest, sweetest mouth he’d ever tasted. No, it definitely wasn’t a brotherly thing, and he had no idea how to handle this new and unexpected complication.

He took a plate and began piling it with fancy little appetizers that were more likely to whet than satisfy his appetite. But it was safer to stay here, surrounded by Megan’s family and friends, than to be alone with her right now. “I’ll take a rain check on the burger, if that’s okay.”

Megan was silent as she studied the display of coconut shrimp. Or maybe she was silent because Vivian had joined the line at the buffet table and she didn’t want her elderly aunt overhearing their conversation—a suspicion that proved true when they were seated and she finally responded to his question.

“I appreciate that you’re here with me,” she said. “But we both know that you only agreed to come because you felt as if you owed me a favor. Now you don’t.”

“And your point?” he prompted, popping a stuffed mushroom in his mouth.

“My point—” she swirled a carrot stick in the dip she’d spooned onto the edge of her plate”—is that there’s no reason to talk about rain checks because there’s no reason for us to ever see one another outside of the lab again.”

“What if I want to see you again?”

She bit off the end of the carrot, then stared at him, clearly baffled by the possibility. And he found himself again mesmerized by those wide, violet eyes.

She chewed, swallowed, then finally asked, “Why would you?”

He fought against a smile. “Forgetting the why for a moment, it seems that I do.”

She considered that while she nibbled on the rest of her carrot stick.

“I’m not easy,” she told him. “Despite the way I wrapped myself around you on the terrace, I’m not going to sleep with you.”

He’d never known a woman who just blurted out what she was thinking the way that Megan did. After dating so many women who played mind games or worked personal agendas, her forthrightness was refreshing—and only one of the things he was beginning to like about her.

“I’d say the wrapping was mutual, and while I certainly wouldn’t object to more of the same, it wasn’t my plan to take you to bed.”

Of course, that hadn’t stopped him from thinking along those lines when her body was pressed against his, but the fact that they worked together complicated the situation immeasurably. Not to mention that she could be exactly what he needed to secure the promotion that his father had dangled in front of him like a proverbial carrot.

But as he watched the little furrow between her brows deepen, he couldn’t resist saying, “Not yet, anyway.”

Chapter Six

Megan was enjoying her first cup of coffee and the quiet solitude of the morning when she heard a key in the lock. A glance at the clock revealed that it wasn’t quite ten—earlier than her sister usually came home after spending the night with her fiancé, and a lot earlier than she would have expected the morning after their engagement celebration.