Plain Jane Allison was now pretty. No, gorgeous!

Her clothes were stylish and revealing, her hair fluffed around her face. People she’d known her whole life passed her on the street without a flicker of recognition. Allison hadn’t run into Jeff yet, but he was due to pick her up soon. She tried to corral the butterflies in her stomach. Would he whistle with appreciation? Would he stare with his mouth open? Would he take her in his arms and kiss her passionately?

The doorbell rang. Allison held her breath and opened the door.

“Hey, Allie.” Jeff flashed an easy smile. “Are you ready?”

“Um, yeah,” she managed.

“I’ll get these.” He took her two bags to the car and stashed them alongside his. “Hey, we have matching bags.”

Allison wasn’t sure how she managed to assemble words and phrases, but she must have done all right, because Jeff didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

And that was just the problem, wasn’t it? She had changed everything about her appearance. And Dr. Jeff Hardison hadn’t even noticed!

Dear Reader,

What a special lineup of love stories Harlequin American Romance has for you this month. Bestselling author Cathy Gillen Thacker continues her family saga, THE DEVERAUX LEGACY, with His Marriage Bonus. A confirmed bachelor ponders a marital merger with his business rival’s daughter, and soon his much-guarded heart is in danger of a romantic takeover!

Next, a young woman attempts to catch the eye of her lifelong crush by undergoing a head-to-toe makeover in Plain Jane’s Plan, the latest book in Kara Lennox’s HOW TO MARRY A HARDISON miniseries. In Courtship, Montana Style by Charlotte Maclay, a sophisticated city slicker arrives on a handsome rancher’s doorstep, seeking refuge with a baby in her arms. The Rancher Wore Suits by Rita Herron is the first book in TRADING PLACES, an exciting duo about identical twin brothers separated at birth who are reunited and decide to switch places to see what their lives might have been like.

Enjoy this month’s offerings, and be sure to return each and every month to Harlequin American Romance!

Happy reading,

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Harlequin American Romance

Plain Jane’s Plan

Kara Lennox

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Texas native Kara Lennox has been an art director, typesetter, advertising copywriter, textbook editor and reporter. She’s worked in a boutique, a health club and has conducted telephone surveys. She’s been an antiques dealer and briefly ran a clipping service. But no work has made her happier than writing romance novels.

When Kara isn’t writing, she indulges in an ever-changing array of weird hobbies, from rock climbing to crystal digging. But her mind is never far from her stories. Just about anything can send her running to her computer to jot down a new idea for some future novel.

Books by Kara Lennox

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

840—VIRGIN PROMISE

856—TWIN EXPECTATIONS

871—TAME AN OLDER MAN

893—BABY BY THE BOOK

917—THE UNLAWFULLY WEDDED PRINCESS

934—VIXEN IN DISGUISE *

942—PLAIN JANE’S PLAN *

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter One

“You are coming to the conference, aren’t you, Jeffy?” the sultry female voice asked through Jeff’s answering machine. “We had so much fun last year, and I just can’t wait to see you again.” The voice lowered to a sexy whisper. “I’ve got the most incredible new black dress. You’ll love it. Okay, Jeffy? See you next weekend, bye-byeeeeee!”

Jeff Hardison groaned and flopped onto his leather sofa. He could almost see Sherry McCormick’s frosted lips as she’d cooed her way through the message. Last year, at the medical products convention in Dallas, he’d found the man-crazy nurse an amusing distraction. But a little of Sherry went a long way, and he had no intention of spending four days with her stuck to him like a tick.

He briefly considered skipping the conference, but he really needed to go, since his father couldn’t make it this year. Jeff and his dad prided themselves on having all the latest diagnostic equipment, despite the fact they ran a small-town medical practice in Cottonwood, Texas.

So how was he going to dodge Sherry? In fact, he’d just as soon dodge any female who had her sights on him. He was tired of shallow relationships with shallow women who saw a single doctor as their ticket to the country-club life. He was even a bit tired of the ones who just wanted to party.

A knock on his door distracted him momentarily from his dilemma. When he opened the door, he was pleased to see his friend Allison Crane on his porch.

His pleasure quickly turned to concern when he realized she had a bleeding elbow. A huge tear in the leg of her sweatpants revealed a nasty case of road rash along the side of her leg. Her bike was lying in the grass in his front yard with a bent wheel, telling the rest of the story.

“Hi, Jeff,” she said quickly before he could express his concern. “I’m fine, don’t worry, I just slid in a patch of gravel, hit a pothole, and got myself two flat tires. Since I was right up the street—” she shrugged “—I just want to use your phone.”

Jeff dragged her inside. “Hell, Allie, you’re going to kill yourself on that bike if you don’t slow down.”

“I wasn’t going that fast,” she protested as he led her into the kitchen. “Can I use your phone?”

“To call 911?”

She laughed. “I’m not hurt that badly, just a scratch. I was going to call Anne and see if she could run me and the bike home in her van.”

In the kitchen, he took a piece of sterile gauze from the cabinet where he kept his first-aid supplies, then poured some antiseptic onto the gauze and faced Allison with a determined expression.

“Get away from me with that stuff. It stings.”

“You can use my phone after you let me fix you up. God knows what kind of germs are lurking in gravel.”

“Oh, you and your germs.” But she capitulated, sitting in a chair at his kitchen table and rolling up the sleeve of her oversize T-shirt.

“I can give you a ride,” he offered.

“That’s not necess—ouch!” She jerked her arm out of his grasp when he tried to clean the cut on her elbow. “Surely medical science has invented a disinfectant that doesn’t sting by now.”

“Stop being a baby.” After wiping away some of the blood, he inspected the cut more closely. “You’re bleeding like Niagara Falls here. You need stitches.”

“No way. I’ll just apply pressure. It’ll stop bleeding in a minute.”

Jeff shook his head. “You are the most pigheaded person when it comes to medical care. You’d bleed to death before you let someone take a couple of stitches.”

“Pigheaded! You’re the one who hasn’t seen a dentist in three years.”

“My teeth are fine.”

“And my elbow is fine. You and your needles can just keep away from me.”

Despite her protests, he managed to clean out the cut to his satisfaction. The bleeding had already slowed. “All right, maybe some antibiotic ointment and a couple of butterfly bandages will do the trick,” he said. “Can I at least do that?”

Allison frowned. “If it’ll make you feel like a hero.”

Jeff stifled the smile that threatened. Taking care of a patient, any patient, always made him feel like a hero. Most people thought he’d gone into medicine simply because his father was a doctor. But that had little to do with his career choice. In fact, he’d been planning a very different path, something related to business or marketing, leading to a fast-paced job and a corner office and all the big-city excitement he could handle. Then his mother had gotten sick, and he’d watched, helpless, as this doctor and that one tried futilely to save her.

Jeff’s father, himself a physician, had accepted her death. He’d accepted the fact that medical science had limits, and he’d let his wife go, knowing he’d done his best. But Jeff hadn’t let go so easily. He’d disappeared into the woods for hours, screaming at the unfairness of it all. Then he’d vowed that he would never be that helpless again. He would learn the healing arts, learn them better than anyone ever had, so no one he loved would get sick and die like that.

As he got older, he realized his outlook had been naive. Doctors weren’t gods, and sometimes patients died. But he always took it hard when one of his patients slipped away. And he’d never gotten over the thrill of finding a cure, easing pain, giving comfort and occasionally pulling off something that bordered on miraculous.

He would never say it aloud, because it sounded so sanctimonious, but being a doctor truly was his calling.

ALLISON WINCED as Jeff deftly cleaned the scrapes on her leg.

He looked up with clear, blue eyes that could melt a glacier. “I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

“It’s okay,” she said. It wasn’t the pain that made every nerve ending in her body stand at attention. It was the touch of Jeff’s hands on her bare skin. They’d played doctor once, when they were children, but ever since then she had assiduously avoided letting Jeff practice his medical arts on her. It wasn’t that she mistrusted his skill. He was one of the best doctors in all of East Texas. But she was deathly afraid that if he touched her, her bodily reactions would give her away.

Thank goodness he thought her fidgeting and shortness of breath were due to discomfort, rather than the fact she was so hot and bothered she couldn’t sit still.

She was crazy in love with Jeff Hardison, had been since she was thirteen. Unfortunately, Jeff had never given her any indication that he reciprocated, so she had pined away in secrecy. He’d always been a good friend to her—really, her best friend—but nothing more, and she would die a thousand deaths if he ever found out her true feelings.

She’d known since high school that he would never be the one for her. Jeff gravitated toward sophisticated females with style, panache and long legs. She had none of those things. Even losing sixty pounds—a result of her newfound passion for bicycling—hadn’t turned her into the sort of femme fatale Jeff went for.

It was hopeless, completely hopeless. She never should have opened her dental practice back home in Cottonwood, where she saw him all the time. They hung out with each other. She even spent time with his family at the Hardison Ranch, which Jeff’s brother Jonathan ran. She was constantly reminded of everything she couldn’t have. Yet, a certain perverse part of her enjoyed being with him. It was torture, but sweet torture.

Jeff applied a couple of bandages over the worst scrapes on her legs. “There, that ought to keep you from bleeding all over my car.”

“You don’t have to take me home. Anyway, I couldn’t fit a loaf of bread in the trunk of your Porsche, much less a bicycle.”

“You can pick up the bike later. I trust you won’t be riding it right away.”

“Of course I will.”

He gave her a disapproving frown.

“Oh, all right, you can take me home,” she said. as if it were a great concession on her part. In truth, she loved riding in Jeff’s luxurious, dark-green sports car, loved the buttery feel of his calfskin seats and the powerful purr of the engine, barely contained on the calm streets of Cottonwood. “I need to take the bike into the shop, anyway, to have that wheel straightened out.”

She would ride her mountain bike until the racing bike was repaired, but Jeff didn’t have to know that.

“That road rash will be a great topic of conversation next weekend,” Jeff commented as they headed for his garage.

“Next weekend?”

“The convention? You’re going, aren’t you?”

“That’s next weekend? Oh, shoot, I think I forgot to send my money in. I’ve probably got back-to-back patients next Thursday and Friday, too.”

“Allie, you have to go.”

She was surprised by the urgency in his voice. “Why?”

“Because it’s no fun without you. Anyway, you have to save me from Sherry McCormick.”

“That nurse with the curly blond hair?”

“That’s the one. She’s planning to hunt me down at the convention and make me her love slave.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “The fact that you’re irresistible to women is a curse you’ll just have to live with. What’s wrong with Sherry, anyway? I remember her from last year. She seems just your type.”

“You really know how to hit below the belt.”

“Well, if you want to discourage her attentions, wear a fake wedding ring. That ought to cool her jets.”

Jeff opened the passenger door to his dark-green Porsche and helped Allison into her seat with more concern than usual. Allison enjoyed his solicitousness. She just wished it wasn’t because she’d left half her skin in the intersection up the street.

“I doubt Sherry would be dissuaded by a wedding ring,” he said as he slid behind the wheel. “She’d just consider it a little extra challenge. What I need is a wife, a flesh-and-blood wife.”

Allison batted her eyelashes. “Why, Jeff, this is so sudden.”

Jeff didn’t laugh, as she expected he would. Instead he looked at her with a speculative gleam in his eye.

“What?”

“How would you like to be my fiancée for the weekend? Run a little interference for me?”

“I told you, I’m not going to the convention.”

“You can change your plans. It’s not too late to register as a walk-in. C’mon, Allie, it’ll be fun.”

Allison’s instincts told her to say yes. What a fantasy, walking around for four days on Jeff Hardison’s arm, pretending they were engaged. “It would be dishonest.”

“It would save me from Sherry the Leech. Please?”

“What about all the other women? As I recall, you usually cut a wide swath on a long weekend in Dallas.”

“Not this time. I’m mending my ways. No more tomcatting. I’ll be your devoted fiancé, proper in every respect.”

That would be the day.

“I’ll take you to dinner at Antares,” he wheedled.

Antares was the revolving restaurant atop Reunion Tower in downtown Dallas, and Jeff knew darn well it was her favorite restaurant. He was really going for the jugular.

She heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Let me see if I can rearrange my appointments.” She knew all the while she would give in to his request. She was pretty much powerless to say no to Jeff, and he knew it. Anyway, she’d been looking for an excuse to get up to Dallas and see her former roommate, Stephanie Rich, who was a gynecologist. If she phoned right away, Steph could probably squeeze her into her schedule.

She most definitely did not want to see her regular doctor, who happened to be Jeff’s father, about her little health problem.

ANNE HARDISON froze, a French fry halfway to her mouth. “You’re going to do what?”

Allison enjoyed the look of shock on her friend’s face. They were lunching at their usual spot, Triple Z Barbecue. Anne’s husband, who was Jeff’s younger brother, Wade, was taking his turn today watching their new baby.

“I’m going to pose as Jeff’s fiancée to keep this certain woman, Sherry, from hitting on him at the convention,” Allison explained. “She just about drove him crazy last year.”

“And you agreed?” Anne asked, dumbfounded.

“Sure. Why not? It’s a favor between friends.

Anyway, he promised to take me to Antares for dinner.”

“You could afford to take yourself to Antares. Allison, honey, he’s taking advantage of you. He’s using you.”

“Oh, he’s not, either.” Allison took a bite of her barbecued beef sandwich. She loved the fact she could eat anything she wanted, guilt-free, since she started bicycling.

“Yes, he is,” Anne insisted. “He’s a big boy, and I’ve seen him break a heart or two without blinking an eye. I’m sure he can fight off a dozen Sherrys if he wants to. I think he has another angle.”

“Like what?” Allison took a sip of iced tea.

“I don’t know. Like…like maybe he’s tired of being single, and he wants to test the waters—see how it might feel to be committed, without really committing.”

Allison laughed so loud the construction workers at the next table looked over. “That’s the craziest thing I ever heard.”

“No, I think I’m on to something,” Anne said, her enthusiasm rising in her voice. “Jeff has been hanging around at our place quite a bit, helping out with the rodeo camp. He’s wonderful with the kids, and sometimes I catch him looking at Wade and me and the baby with this sort of wistful expression on his face.”

“You think he’s jealous of your marital bliss?”

“All men get the urge to settle down and procreate sooner or later, even Jeff.”

Allison took a particularly savage bite of an onion ring. “Even if you’re right, I’m not the one he fantasizes about. I mean, get real.”

“What do you mean, ‘get real’?”

“I mean, Jeff can have any woman he wants. Why would he set—”

“Don’t you dare use that word, settle. Jeff Hardison would be damn lucky to have you. Any man would.”

Allison rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, Anne, you don’t have to stroke my ego. Jeff is attracted to sophisticated model-types with long legs and collagen lips. We both know I’m no beauty queen.”

Anne threw down her French fry, splattering ketchup on the checkered tablecloth. “That is such bull! You could go up against any woman in this town—or anywhere, for that matter. You’ve got great skin, great cheekbones, great hair—”

“Mousy brown is not great.”

“But it’s thick and shiny, and—”

“Anne, cut it out, okay? I don’t care that Jeff doesn’t notice me.”

“Oh, don’t you?” Anne asked innocently. The silence that followed her question was charged with enough tension to suffocate a mule.

“We’re just friends, and I like it that way,” Allison said, trying her best to sound casual.

“Liar.”

Suddenly Allison found it hard to swallow. She’d nurtured her ridiculous crush on Jeff for years, and no one had ever suspected. Or had they? She’d never said a word to anyone and always acted completely indifferent around Jeff, but Anne was very observant.

“You haven’t mentioned this to anyone, have you?” Allison asked, dying a thousand deaths. Her secret, her precious secret, was out in the open.

“Um, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t have to mention it. Everyone knows.”

Allison thought she was going to throw up. Surely this was just a terrible nightmare. “Everyone?”

“Everyone but Jeff, the lunkhead. I guess he’s so used to women adoring him that he’s oblivious.”

Here, at least, was a shred of hope. “You’re sure he doesn’t know? And nobody’s said anything to him?”

“Not that I’ve heard.”

“Listen, Anne. He can never, never know. Promise me you won’t say anything to Jeff.”

“I won’t. I wouldn’t do that. But, Allison, why can’t he know? In every relationship, someone has to make the first move. Why don’t you just tell him how you—”

“I did that once.”

“When? I thought—”

“In seventh grade. I screwed up my courage and asked him to the Christmas dance at the country club, and he was grossed out by the whole idea.”

“Good Lord, Allie, that was eons ago. He probably doesn’t even remember it.”

“Well, I do.” No sting of rejection had ever hurt so badly.

“You need to try again,” Anne said gently.

“No! Oh, Anne, you don’t know what you’re saying.” Allison scooted out of the booth. The restaurant suddenly felt stifling, suffocating. She had to get out. She threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table and scrambled to her feet, unable to get to the door fast enough.

“Allison, wait,” Anne called, hot on her tail.

In the parking lot outside, Allison stopped and caught her breath. “Anne. I am not Jeff’s type. If he knew I had…feelings for him, it would just make him uncomfortable, and then he’d feel sorry for me, and I can’t be some object of pity, I just can’t. I could never be friends with him again. At least if we’re friends, I can see him.”

“And slowly torture yourself to death. Allison, honey, that’s no way to live.”

“You have another suggestion? Besides making a total fool of myself? I’d have to move, you know. If he rejected me, I’d have to leave Cottonwood forever.”

“Chill out, drama queen.” Anne was walking slow circles around Allison, chin in hand, looking very thoughtful.

“What? Did I spill something on myself?”

“What if I could turn you into ‘Jeff’s type’?”

“Huh? You mean, like, a makeover?”

“Yeah. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Allison, but you don’t exactly enhance your good points.”

“You mean because I don’t wear two pounds of makeup and a push-up bra, and tease my hair like Dolly Parton? That’s not me, Annie.”

“I’m not suggesting you do any such thing. But you hide your figure under baggy clothes, and you’ve been wearing the same hairstyle since junior high.”

“I’m comfortable with myself this way.”

“Yeah, because no one notices you. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about because I’ve been there. I was a nerdy law student before I met Wade, remember? Men never looked twice at me. But one crazy night I did myself up like a country-and-western singer and went to the rodeo, and boy, did the men notice.”

“One man in particular,” Allison said with a smile, recalling Anne and Wade’s tumultuous courtship. Anne had settled on an image that was somewhat toned down from the vampy rodeo queen. But Allison had to admit, her friend was a knockout now, when before she’d been easy to overlook. “But I’m just not the girly-girl type,” Allison added.

“You say you want Jeff to make the first move,” Anne said, “but he’s never going to do that if he doesn’t notice you.”

“I could walk down the street stark naked and he wouldn’t notice. I lost sixty pounds—sixty pounds—and he never said a word.”

“That’s because you’re still wearing size sixteen clothes!”

Allison looked down at what she was wearing. “Am I that bad?”

“Frankly, yes! Let me play Professor Higgins. Maybe you’ll like it. If not, there’s nothing lost.”

Allison sighed. “Okay, if you really want to. But it won’t do any good.”

“Maybe not. But there’s a whole sea of men out there besides Jeff.”

ALLISON PACKED and repacked her suitcase, making sure she had everything in her arsenal that she would need for the convention.

Three Miracle Bras in various colors, check.

Garter belt and stockings, check.

Catch-me-kiss-me, four-inch pumps, check.

Little black dress with no back, check.

Two pounds of makeup she’d sworn she wouldn’t wear, but which made her look like a supermodel so she’d changed her mind, check.

Clingy tops two sizes too small, and pants that showed her belly-button, check.

Dangly jewelry, check.

Contraceptive devices—like she would need them—check.

As she zipped the suitcase closed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror, and her heart skittered around until she realized there wasn’t a stranger in her bedroom. Anne had done a real number on her. They’d taken two evenings to accomplish the makeover, plus an evening of shopping, but the results were more than Allison had ever dreamed of.

Plain-Jane Allison was now pretty. No, she was gorgeous. A knockout. She hardly resembled the creature she’d been before. Her clothes were stylish and figure revealing, and her figure was worth revealing, taut as a bowstring but still softly curved. Her makeup enhanced her dark eyes, full lips, and sharp cheekbones.

And her hair—that was the wildest change. Anne had taken her to her favorite stylist, who had suggested golden highlights and a feathery cut that fluffed around her face. Jeez, she was almost a blonde.

People she’d known her whole life passed her on the street without a flicker of recognition. Her own patients stared at her as if she was going topless. And her parents…well, they’d been surprised to say the least. Her father, a church minister, had actually given her a brief lecture on the sins of the flesh. Her mother had nodded in agreement, then taken her aside and said, “Don’t listen to your father. He’s being a fuddy-duddy. You look fabulous. Do you think Anne might have time to show me how to do my makeup?”

Allison hadn’t run into Jeff yet, but that would soon be remedied. He was due to pick her up any minute. They were riding together to Dallas, of course, as an “engaged” couple should.

Allison tried to corral the butterflies in her stomach. How would Jeff react to the new Allison, all decked out in low-cut jeans and a snug purple crop top? Would he whistle with appreciation? Would he stare with his mouth gaping open? Would he take her in his arms and kiss her passionately?

Well, okay, that third possibility was a pretty farout fantasy. But she couldn’t wait to see what he would do.

The doorbell rang and the butterflies fluttered themselves into a frenzy. This was it, her moment of truth. If this didn’t prod Jeff into thinking of her as a desirable woman, she didn’t know what would.

She hoisted her suitcase off the bed and wheeled it to the door, where her smaller bag of toiletries was already waiting. “Coming!” she called as she found her purse, a sassy little faux-alligator bag Anne had picked out for her.

Then she held her breath and opened the door.

Oh, Lord, he looked good. But then, he always did. Even as a skinny high-schooler, his broad shoulders and burgeoning muscles had hinted of good things to come.

“Hey, Allie.” He flashed an easy smile. “Are you ready?”

“Um, yeah,” she managed, searching for telltale signs of shock on his face. But he looked perfectly passive.

He spotted her two bags and reached for them. “I’ll get these.” He loped back out to his car, popped the trunk with a button on his key chain and stashed her luggage alongside his. “Hey, we have matching bags.”

“Bought mine on sale at the outlet mall.” She wasn’t sure how she managed to assemble words and phrases into coherent sentences, but she must have been doing all right, because Jeff didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

And that was just the problem, wasn’t it? she thought with a wave of despair. Her big plan was a big, fat failure. She had changed everything about her appearance, and Dr. Jeff Hardison didn’t even notice.

Chapter Two

Jeff drove along the interstate toward Dallas feeling inexplicably happy. He didn’t particularly enjoy conventions. He wasn’t big on strange hotel beds and banquet food. But he hadn’t been out of Cottonwood for a while, and he supposed the idea of getting away for a few days was appealing.

The weather was fine, so he’d put the top down, enjoying the feel of the fall wind in his hair.

Allison didn’t talk much. Before he’d lowered the convertible top, she’d put on a scarf to protect her hair from the wind and sunglasses to shield her eyes. Now she sat slouched in the passenger seat with a slightly petulant frown, lost in her own thoughts.

That was okay. It was hard to talk with all that wind. One thing he liked about Allison was that he didn’t always feel obligated to carry on a conversation. She was comfortable with silence sometimes.

Maybe he shouldn’t have pressured her into coming with him to Dallas. He probably could have dealt with Sherry some other way. But he was really glad Allison had capitulated. He would have someone to talk to among the sea of strangers, someone to eat meals with and rescue him from boring conversations. Allison could be counted on to ask provocative questions during tedious workshops or volunteer as a guinea pig when a vendor wanted to demonstrate a product.

He looked forward to seeing some old friends at the convention, fellow physicians who came every year basically as an excuse to play golf and escape their wives or girlfriends. He didn’t look forward to announcing his “engagement” to them, though. He was the last holdout, and they would give him a hard time. But if he told them the engagement was fake, and the news leaked out to Sherry, she might know he’d carried out the deception to discourage her, and her feelings would be hurt…for about thirty seconds, before she sank her claws into him.

When he pulled up in front of the Del Mar Hotel, a valet scurried to open his door while a bellman did the same for Allison, then pounced on the bags. That was one drawback to driving a Porsche: everyone assumed you’d be a big tipper.

He didn’t disappoint either man. Then he joined Allison by the revolving door and guided her inside with a hand at the small of her back.

Her bare back. Low-cut jeans and a crop top left her midriff bare. Funny, he couldn’t recall ever seeing Allison’s midsection before. Even when she rode her bike, she wore baggy shorts or sweats and oversize T-shirts.

He pulled his hand away, feeling sort of weird about touching Allison. She was like a sister to him. Of course, if they were going to fool anyone into believing they were engaged, he would have to stifle any brotherly feelings and summon up some fake sexual sparks. He would have to get used to touching her.

The check-in desk was swamped with conventioneers. Jeff resigned himself to standing in line for a while. “You can go sit down if you want,” he said to Allison. “I’ll handle check-in.”

“No, that’s all right,” she said coolly. “I’ve been sitting for three hours. Do you think they have a health club here?”

“It’s a big hotel. I’m sure they do.”

“Good. I missed my usual ride this morning, so I’d like to make it up on the stationary bike.”

“Do you ride every day?”

“Six days a week. I’m training for a century next month.”

“Century?”

“A hundred-mile ride.”

Damn. He was in pretty good shape, and there was no way he could ride a bike for a hundred miles. Not unless someone gave him a week to do it. Since when had Allison become a jock? He seemed to recall that in a high school gym class she’d once hidden in the bushes to avoid being chosen for a softball team.

“Speaking of riding, how’s the elbow?” he asked her. “And the road rash?”

“All better.” She showed him her elbow, which sported a fading bruise and just a thin scab. “I’m a fast healer. Oh, Jeff, I think that woman is trying to get your attention.”

Jeff tensed, thinking it might be Sherry. But then he realized Allison was nodding toward one of the hotel clerks, who had just opened up a new station. She was looking straight at Jeff and motioning him to come be the first in her line, even though there were half a dozen people ahead of him.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, he waltzed up to the desk.

“Hi, Dr. Hardison,” the bouncy clerk said.

“How did you—”

“I checked you in last year, remember? You requested feather pillows and a standing wake-up call for 6:00 a.m.”

Jeff was flabbergasted. “How do you remember that? You must check in fifty people a day, if not more.”

“Yeah, but none of them are as good-looking as you,” she said with an unmistakable come-hither look.

Oh, yeah. He remembered her now—remembered that beehive of bright red hair and the china-doll face.

“I have you down for the two-room suite with…oh, with a Ms. Allison Crane.” She blushed.

“Dr. Crane,” Allison said, setting her credit card on the desk.

Jeff scooped up the card and handed it back to her. “I’ll get this…darling.”

Allison’s skin prickled with awareness as the darling sank in. How many times had she fantasized that word coming out of Jeff’s mouth, those blue eyes looking at her with adoration, just as they were now?

This game they were playing was a mistake. She’d known that going in, known that deception of any kind always got her in trouble. But she’d done it anyway, because she’d thought pretending to be engaged might be fun. She hadn’t counted on Jeff being such a good actor, producing these unwanted effects in her.

The clerk looked mortified over her faux pas. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Doctor. Doctor Crane. I wouldn’t have been…I didn’t know he was—”

“Engaged,” Jeff said smoothly. “Allison is my fiancée.”

The clerk found a smile. “How lovely. May I see your ring?”

Allison looked up at Jeff, slightly panicked. “Um, I don’t have—”

“We’re planning to shop for a ring while we’re in the city,” Jeff said. “We don’t really have a good jewelry store selection in our hometown. Cottonwood is pretty small.”

Allison hadn’t realized Jeff could be such a smooth liar.

“You’ll have to show me the rock when you get it,” the clerk said to Allison with a wink as she handed each of them an electronic key, having apparently overcome her embarrassment. “I love diamonds.”

“I’ll bet you do,” Allison murmured, then immediately felt guilty for being so catty. The clerk was just being friendly, and Allison could hardly blame her for flirting.

“You’re in Suite 1516. If you’ll point out your bags, I’ll have the bellman bring them up.”

Jeff gestured toward their matching suitcases, then casually slung an arm around Allison’s shoulders and guided her to the elevator. The clerk watched them walk away, her eyes downright misty, before turning her attention to the next person in line.

“Well, wasn’t that sweet,” Allison said, stepping out of Jeff’s light embrace the moment the elevator doors closed. She hoped he didn’t notice her accelerated breathing, or the fact that beads of sweat had broken out on her forehead. “Is that how it is for you all the time? Women throwing themselves at your feet?”

“No, of course not. Some women just like to flirt. She’s probably saying the exact same thing to the next person she checks in.”

“Oh, I don’t think so. She remembered you.”

Jeff shrugged. “Some women have a thing for doctors. Anyway, getting hit on is a problem women have more than men, I think.”

Not me, she wanted to add, because it was true. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to fend off an unwanted advance. Maybe it was Hughey Jobson, in sixth grade, who’d threatened to kiss her on the mouth if she didn’t hand over her Twinkies from lunch. But pointing that out would only gain Jeff’s sympathy, not his passion.

“Well, anyway,” she said, “I wish you would warn me next time before you present me as your fiancée. I wasn’t ready.”

“I thought we needed the practice.”

“I’m supposed to protect you from Sherry. I didn’t know I’d have to smile and simper for everybody.”

“No one said anything about smiling and simpering. Jeez, that’s not the kind of woman you think I’d marry, is it?”

“I can’t see you marrying anyone.”

He leaned against the elevator wall and folded his arms. “Why is that?”

“You’re too fickle.” She folded her own arms, mirroring his posture. “You buy a new car every six months. You throw out milk before the expiration date, and you won’t eat a banana if it has a single brown spot. You have no tolerance for imperfection. Every woman you date has some fault—this one has an annoying laugh, that one has too many cats. You look for excuses to dump them. When you’re married, you have to accept a person, faults and all. You have to commit. You can’t just walk away when you get a little bit bored, or when something else attracts you.

“That is why I can’t see you married.”

Jeff just stared at her. Even when the elevator doors opened onto their floor, he still stood there, his mouth slightly open, his eyes glazed.

Belatedly Allison realized she’d been too blunt. He’d been looking for a little harmless banter, and she’d given him a no-holds-barred assessment of his personality. She hadn’t painted a very pretty picture.

“Well, thanks, Allison, for answering my question so…honestly.” He walked off the elevator ahead of her.

Allison felt just awful. Jeff was her friend, one of her very, very best friends. Just because women threw themselves at him was no reason for her to launch such a personal attack toward him. He’d done nothing to her. She supposed her doctor’s appointment with Stephanie tomorrow had her more on edge than she realized, and she was taking it out on poor Jeff.

She hurried down the hall after him. “Jeff, wait. I’m sorry.”

He said nothing, just kept walking until he reached Suite 1516. He opened the lock with his electronic key, then threw the door open and gestured for her to enter.

When she saw the room, she was momentarily distracted from her need to apologize. The suite was gorgeous, the most luxurious space she’d ever seen. She’d never traveled much, and when she did, she stayed in a budget-minded place. It had taken her many years to pay off the huge debts from dental school, then the equipment she needed for her practice. She was out of debt now, but still didn’t like to spend money wantonly. Last year when she’d attended this convention, she’d stayed at a Motel Six.

Jeff’s financial situation was a lot different. His father had paid for med school, then welcomed him into the practice—where the equipment was already paid off.

“Wow.” She wandered from the living room into the bedroom, resisting the urge to kick off her shoes and run barefoot through the inch-thick carpet. “This place must be costing you a fortune,” she said. “Why don’t we split the bill?” Even split in two, the rate would be three times what she normally paid, but it wasn’t fair to make Jeff carry the whole burden, even if this engagement scheme was his idea.

“I can afford it,” he said gruffly.

The bellman arrived moments later with their bags. He set them both up on luggage racks in the bedroom. Allison looked at those matching suitcases, side by side, and thought how cozy they must appear to the bellman.

Jeff tipped the man and sent him on his way. Then he wasted no time grabbing his suitcase and carrying it out into the living area. “You can have this room. I’ll sleep on the fold-out sofa.”

“You mean there’s not a second bedroom?”

“No, this is it.”

“I don’t mind sleeping on the sofa. I’m smaller.” She was proud of the fact she could say that and mean it.

“I’ll try it first,” he said. “But I probably won’t be able to commit to the sofa bed. I’ll find lumps, or it’ll sag in the middle—”

“Jeff…”

“And then I’ll want to toss it aside and go for the king-size bed. C’mon, you know it’s true.”

“I was completely out of line with those comments, and I’m sorry.” She stood in the bedroom doorway, talking to his back as he hoisted his bag onto the sofa and unzipped it. “Truly, Jeff. Can you forget I said them?”

He straightened, then slowly turned, a troubled frown marring his handsome face. “I’ll always forgive you, you know that. But I can’t forget. Is that how you actually see me? I had no idea.”

“I was exaggerating. I was irritated because that beautiful woman threw herself at you, and you took it for granted. I was jealous.”

“Jealous?” He stopped scowling at her.

“Yeah. Because beautiful men never throw themselves at me. It hardly seems fair.” All right, so she was playing her sympathy ticket. Not very commendable, but if she could nudge Jeff out of his pique, she swore she would watch her tongue in the future. He might not see her “that way,” but he was her friend and he cared for her, which gave her the power to hurt him. She’d never realized that before.

He finally smiled. “You’ll find your white knight someday, Allie.” Then he paused, looking thoughtful. “Do I really throw out perfectly good bananas?”

“I saw you do it once. And the—” She censored herself.

“The what?”

“Nothing.”

“What, Allison? Tell me, or I’ll tickle you.”

Oh, no, not the tickle monster. He hadn’t done that to her since junior high, when the mere thought of his perfect hands on the rolls of fat around her middle had prompted her to capitulate immediately to the threat.

Now, the idea of his hands on her ribs—no more rolls of fat—was unsettling for a different reason. Her hormones were already on red alert from the casual way he’d touched her in front of the hotel clerk. She couldn’t handle any more touching at the moment.

She took an instinctive step backward. “I was going to say, ‘And the heels from bread.’ You throw those away, too.”

“That has nothing to do with commitment. I never commit to the heels, even at the grocery store when I first put the bread in my basket. I always tell them up front, ‘I’m not eating you. You’re too tough.”’

She laughed, relieved he was no longer angry. “The heels make good toast. It’s wasteful to toss them.”

“I’ll save all my heels for you. Okay, Miss Conservation?”

“Then you’ll have to toast them for me for breakfast.” Oh, stop it. She was flirting with him. What if he got completely turned off? What if he said, Allison, there’s no need to play the part of my lover when we’re alone. It weirds me out.

But he didn’t say anything. In fact, he didn’t appear to even realize she’d dropped a provocative line.

While Jeff unpacked, she ogled the blindingly white-tiled bathroom with its Jacuzzi tub. She heard him opening and closing drawers in the living room. She’d decided not to argue further about his choice of bed. After all, if things worked out as she hoped, they’d get to share the big bed.

“We have just enough time to grab lunch before registration,” he said after they’d both hung up their clothes and stashed toiletries in the bathroom. “There’s a good sandwich place up the block.”

Allison remembered the place. They served sandwiches as big as her head, along with piles of greasy potato chips and chocolate brownies to die for. Since she wouldn’t be bicycling during the convention, she couldn’t afford all those fat grams. “I think I’ll check out the health club instead.”

He looked at her curiously. He was probably remembering the old Allison, who never turned down a meal and thought walking to the refrigerator was plenty of exercise. Then he shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll wait for you at registration.”

He took off without much fanfare, and Allison slumped with disappointment. She’d been hoping Jeff would want to work out with her. There was no way he could fail to notice her newly sculpted body if she was wearing her skimpy new exercise clothes. Or maybe he could. Sometimes she thought she must be invisible to Jeff.

Allison spent forty-five minutes on the exercise bike, another fifteen with free weights, then bought a strawberry-banana concoction and a cucumber sandwich at the juice bar. That would hold her to dinner. She showered, changed clothes, went to registration and signed up as a walk-in. She didn’t see Jeff anywhere. So much for his promise to behave like a devoted fiancé.

Unfortunately, she did see Sherry. Or, more to the point, Sherry saw her. The buxom nurse, with her cloud of blond curls and black-lined eyes, marched up to Allison and hugged her as if they were long-lost friends.

“Allison, right?”

“Yes,” Allison said, straightening the jacket Sherry’s hug had knocked askew. “And you’re Sherry.”

“You remembered! Of course, everybody remembers me. I seem to make an impression, for better or worse.” She gave Allison a once-over. “New…hair?”

“New everything.”

“You’re a friend of Jeff Hardison’s, right?” Sherry scanned the crowd, looking for her quarry.

Uh-oh. Allison was either going to have to lie, or mess up Jeff’s carefully planned strategy. “Yes, we came together.” There. That wasn’t a lie, but it implied something more personal than “just friends.”

“Well, wasn’t that nice of him to let you tag along,” Sherry said with an uncertain smile.

Allison silently critiqued Sherry’s caps. She couldn’t help it; professional hazard. Hers were good.

Sherry reapplied her coral lipstick. “Does he still have that Jaguar?”

“No, he has a Porsche.”

Sherry’s eyes sparkled. Ka-ching! “Well, where is he? I’m just dying to give him a big ol’ long-time-no-see kiss. He’s such a doll.”

Allison knew she had to say something. No self-respecting fiancée would allow this woman to kiss her future husband without protest.

“Um, maybe you better re-think your strategy,” Allison said. “Jeff is spoken for these days.”

Sherry looked horrified. “No, say it isn’t true. He’s not married, is he?” She said the word married as though it had four letters.

“Engaged,” Allison said.

Sherry relaxed. “Oh, is that all? Then he’s still a free man in my book.”

“Well, he’s not in mine,” Allison said sharply.

Sherry’s face fell. “You? He’s marrying you?”

“Incredible as it may seem.”

“Oh. Gosh, I’m just mortified. Talk about making a fool—Well. I see. I hope it…works out. You’re not one of those clinging vines who tries to keep her man from having female friends, I hope. Because Jeff and I have known each other for years.”

“I have no control over Jeff’s friends.” Unfortunately. Because if she did, she’d stuff Miss D Cups into a taxi and send her back to whatever slime pit she crawled out of.

The strength of Allison’s jealous reaction startled her. She’d always been a bit wistful over the Sherrys of the world, confident of their sexuality and bold. She’d never felt the green-eyed monster’s claws dig in like this before.

Sherry flashed another broad smile. “Good. Because it’s hard to keep a man if you put too many restrictions on him.”

“I’ll remember that.”

Allison barely restrained herself from kicking Sherry in her swaying butt as she walked away.

JEFF WAS LATE getting back to the hotel for registration. He’d run into an old friend in the lobby and lost track of the time. He looked around for Allison, but realized she must have come and gone already. She was planning to attend some seminars this afternoon, so she’d probably already gone to get a seat.

As he waited for the woman behind the registration desk to check him in, he heard a familiar laugh, and a cold chill washed over him. Sherry. He hadn’t wanted to run into her without Allison on his arm, ready to back up his engagement story.

The registration woman seemed to be moving in slow motion. Finally she handed him his badge and packet. He grabbed them and turned, intending to hightail it to the elevator. Instead he ran smack into Sherry.

“Jeffy! I knew you were lurking around here somewhere.” She grabbed on to him and put a lip lock on him that would have done a vacuum cleaner proud. He pushed her away so forcefully she almost fell off her spike heels.

“Sherry. It’s nice to see you, too, but there’s something I have to tell you.”

“Is it about your fiancée?”

That threw him. “You…know?”

“I ran into Allison a few minutes ago. She’s…sweet. But you could have knocked me over with a feather when she said you two were getting married. I always got the feeling you weren’t the marrying kind.”

“Well, people change.” Jeff wondered how much of Sherry’s orange lipstick was smeared all over his face.

“She just doesn’t seem your type,” Sherry persisted.

“Why is that?”

“Well, she’s so…sweet. I can’t picture her being able to handle a tiger like you.” Sherry made a noise, a sort of combination meow-purr.

“Believe me, I’m thoroughly tamed.”

“A tiger can never be tamed. You can put a collar on him and make him jump through hoops, but the minute the trainer drops her guard…” She swiped the air with her hand, her coral talons curling like claws.

Jeff had had just about enough of this conversation. Was the woman not able to take a hint? “Yes, well, interesting observation. I have to go. Allison’s waiting for me.” He made his escape, finally breathing a sigh of relief when he reached the safety of the elevator.

None of the afternoon workshops appealed to him. He went for a swim in the hotel’s Olympic-size pool, wishing he’d worked out with Allison instead. At least he’d have had someone to talk to, and he wouldn’t have that pastrami sandwich sitting in his stomach like a lump. He sat in the whirlpool for a while. The only other person there was a woman from Albuquerque, a bookkeeper for a medical clinic who was attending the conference to brush up on the latest insurance laws. Jeff steeled himself for a come-on, but then she started talking about her husband and daughter, and he realized she was just being friendly, not flirting.

Not all women threw themselves at him, as Allison believed. Hell, he’d been turned down by plenty of ’em. He could remember times he’d been ignored and overlooked by the opposite sex. She didn’t have a corner on that market.

Come to think of it, though, he couldn’t remember Allison ever dating anyone. Maybe he should set her up with a nice guy. He had a few single friends left.

That thought immediately made him uneasy. No, he wouldn’t meddle in Allison’s love life. That was a sure way to ruin a perfectly good friendship—introduce her to some guy who later dumps her, and then Jeff would take the blame.

When he glanced at the clock, he realized he ought to go to the suite and change for the reception. He hoped Allison was there, so they could go together. He didn’t want to face Sherry again without her.

ALLISON WAS READY a half-hour early. Her new hairdo and makeup routine took forever, so she’d left herself plenty of time. But it was only four-thirty, and the reception didn’t start till five.

And where was Jeff? That thought had scarcely formed before she heard him at the door. Oh, shoot, she didn’t want him to see her yet. He would know how eager she was, and besides, she wanted to make an entrance. She quickly retreated to her bedroom and closed the door.

“Allison? You here?”

“I’m getting dressed,” she called through the closed door. “Bathroom’s all yours.”

“Thanks. Oh, and thanks for running interference with Sherry. You did good.”

“No charge.” She hoped they could steer clear of Sherry from now on. Lying didn’t sit well with Allison.

With time to kill, she decided to polish her nails and tried not to think about the fact that Jeff was naked in the shower. Then she would get all hot and bothered, and her face would glow and her hair would go flat, and she would chew off her lipstick.

The water in the bathroom stopped, and she heard Jeff moving around in the living room. Probably getting dressed. Maybe she could walk in by mistake and catch him half-naked.

Oh, Allison, you are sick.

When her nails were dry and she judged she’d given him plenty of time to make himself decent, she doused herself with perfume guaranteed to drive any man wild, grabbed her tiny evening bag, and opened the door, walking with as much sensuous grace as she could manage.

Apparently, that wasn’t very much, because the first thing she did when she entered the living area was trip.

Somehow, Jeff caught her before she hit the carpet face first. “Whoa. You all right?”

Just dying of embarrassment. “Fine, fine. New shoes. I’m not used to them.”

He inspected her four-inch heels, then tsked at her. “Do you know how many women I’ve had in my office who have sprained their ankles wearing ridiculous shoes like that?”

“Don’t lecture me, Jeff. I happen to like these shoes. Anne picked them out for me.” She figured mentioning Anne couldn’t hurt, since she was only slightly less revered than a saint in the Hardison family.

“I’ll have to have a talk with her.” He sneezed. “Are you wearing perfume?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I think I’m allergic. What is that stuff?”

She would die before she admitted it was something called Seduction. “Mmm, I don’t remember.”

“Could you tone it down a little? I have to hang out with you all night.”

Her face burning, Allison retreated to the bathroom. So, he thought hanging out with her was a chore, did he? She swiped her wrists, behind her ears, and between her breasts with a damp washcloth. The beast! He hadn’t even noticed her dress, which had cost her two root canals and one crown. It was a sexy little black thing with a plunging neckline and no back and a hem much higher up her thigh than she’d ever worn before. And he hadn’t said a word.

She said nothing as they rode down the elevator together. She wished he didn’t look so damn handsome in his suit. She wished she could find something wrong with his appearance—some evidence that he was turning prematurely gray or thickening around the middle. But no such luck. He was more handsome than ever, and at the moment she hated him.

As soon as they arrived at the reception, which was packed with conventioneers eager to take advantage of the complimentary hors d’oeuvres, she excused herself to the rest room. In the ladies’ lounge, she pulled out her cell phone and dialed Anne’s number.

“Allison? What are you doing calling me? You’re supposed to be seducing Jeff.”

“It’s not working. He said my shoes were stupid, my perfume stinks—”

“What about the dress?”

“It could have been a potato sack for all he noticed. I might as well be a piece of furniture.”

“Why don’t you pretend to trip and let him catch—”

“Been there, done that. He patted me on the shoulder like I was a golden retriever.”

“This calls for drastic action. You’ve got to shake that boy up—but good.”

“How?” Allison wailed. “I’ve tried everything.”

“I bet you haven’t kissed him.”

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