****
Debra flopped against the door as it shut Jase outside. She needed its support to hold her upright. Her body trembled as her mind flew back over the chaotic evening. His attention, his anger, his antics on the dance floor...her racing pulse deafened her as she remembered the dance floor.
She flinched as she clawed herself upright and stumbled across the room. She couldn’t do this. As much as she wanted to allay any fears Chloe might have, she couldn’t go through with this—not with Jase. She was too aware of him, too susceptible to his touch.
A faint thread of hysteria took hold of her and built. She was too besotted with him to pretend to be in love. She lurched toward the window, seeing nothing outside, just the reflection of her own fear and unhappiness.
****
“Are you okay?” Paul frowned as he entered Debra’s office. “I was worried about you last night. I rang.”
Debra wasn’t surprised he would have sensed her turmoil. That’s why she’d turned off her phone. She hadn’t been in a fit state to talk to anyone last night, least of all the one person she could never lie to.
“What’s going on, Deb?”
Debra made a show of studying papers on her desk. “Nothing’s going on.”
“Debra?” he glared at her evasion. “Has this got something to do with Jase McEwan?”
Debra’s face burned even as she ignored her brother’s growl.
Dredging up every ounce of willpower she lifted her head and forced dimples into her cheeks. “That would be none of your business.”
“If he’s done something...”
If only Paul’s assumption was her worry. She could deal with Jase upsetting her. Her struggle was not the man himself, but her response to the man.
“I told you yesterday, Paul. I’m a big girl now.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m going to stand by and let some playboy stud—”
Some of the tension left Debra. To hear Jase referred to in such a way at least rubber-stamped her choice of escort. Even if the description was far from the truth...well the playboy bit, anyway.
“What are you and Chloe doing tomorrow night? Would you like to come to dinner with me?”
Sidetracking Paul only worked because he allowed it to. The frown he subjected her to left no doubt he was not happy with her ending their discussion about Jase.
“At your place?”
Debra shook her head. That would defeat the whole purpose of the charade. “I can’t be bothered cooking. I’ve had a busy week and will have to take work home. Let’s go to a restaurant. Check with Chloe and let me know. I’ll make the bookings and talk to you later.”
Thank God he allowed her to dismiss him. The glance over his shoulder as he wandered out the door did little to calm her though. He knew her too well. Knew something had knocked her off her perch, and unfortunately had guessed what, or to be more precise, who.
Would he see through her act? She bit her lip and shrugged. As long as Chloe stayed in the dark and Paul didn’t let on, did it matter? The pain as her stomach tightened, forcing her arms to encircle the knot. The discomfort refused to subside. She couldn’t bear Paul’s pity. Not a second time.
****
Jase paid closer attention to Debra than the movie they’d chosen to view. Fascinated by the spontaneous involvement she displayed, her gasps of concern for the welfare of the heroes, her enthusiastic rallying of the good guys as they conquered over evil, Jase grinned.
She engrossed herself in the story to a level he’d rarely seen before. A couple of times she must have felt his attention for she glanced his way. He was quick to banish his smile and re-focus on the large screen.
He made no attempt to touch her, although his fingers itched to take her hand. Flicking his gaze around the darkened theatre Jase realised Debra felt safe here—safe to be herself.
His lips tightened at life’s unfairness. The movie forgotten, he stewed at the circumstances which had forced Debra into this charade. Where were her friends? People she could turn to when in need of help and support?
With the exception of her twin, it seemed she’d built herself into a silver tower no one accessed and that she had no key to let herself out of. His heart swelled with determination. He would find that key.
Animation glowed from her face as the movie drew to a climax. In a blaze of special effects the hero conquered all, including the hard-nosed female cop who’d doubted his ability to succeed. The parallel between their own story and the movie struck him as the lights flicked on.
Dazed he watched Debra resurrect her aloof persona. His companion of the last two hours disappeared in a split second and Debra the CEO was back beside him.
But he’d seen the other Debra. His Debra, the one he wanted to be with. The one he was determined to extract from inside the hard shell she’d built around herself.
As they exited the theatre his mind raced. He had so little time. Warnings flashed. Don’t overstep the acting, like last night. His courtesy grip on her elbow slipped down to encase her hand as they approached the footpath.
“Time to start pretending, Debra,” he whispered close to her ear.
Her startled eyes widened for a moment. But as her hand relaxed to entwine with his, a daring sparkle illuminated the dark orbs. Their impact hit him with the force of a speeding bus and he almost stumbled. The warmth of her grip stabilised him and he clung to it as he ordered his brain to reassert authority over his jelly legs.
By the time they arrived at the nearby restaurant, he’d regained a semblance of control. “I like your hair like this,” he murmured as he held open the door. He couldn’t resist touching the flowing locks just for a second as he released the door. Her smile sent blood speeding through his body faster than lava from an erupting volcano.
Careful, boy, careful. She’s acting, too. This isn’t real. Jase ignored the warning screaming inside his head. He was going to enjoy the relaxed state Debra appeared to be willing to share with him this evening.
Seeing her look around the restaurant’s current patrons reminded him of their game. “Anyone of interest here tonight?” He hoped so, then he could smother her with attention and she’d never guess it wasn’t for the benefit of others.
She shook her head. There was a definite droop about her mouth as she picked up the menu.
“It’s early yet,” he pointed out.
“I suppose.”
He searched to restore her enthusiasm for their charade because the bubble around her had burst. But before he could speak she announced, “I’ve invited Paul and Chloe to join us for dinner tomorrow night.”
That was less than twenty-four hours to perfect their acting skills. “What was their reaction to the invite?”
“Reaction?” A haughty eyebrow rose.
Exasperation forced Jase forward. He leaned across their intimate table for two and audaciously tweaked her nose. “Yes. Reaction.” He grinned at her shocked indignation. “What did your brother have to say about you dating me?”
Her eyes flashed. “I’m not dating...oh, of course.” Her voice stumbled. “I see what you mean.” Jase’s chest puffed as she blushed. “I—um—I don’t think I mentioned you.”
Jase leaned his head on splayed fingers and enjoyed her discomfort. “How did you invite them to join us for dinner if you never mentioned me?”
Debra buried her head in the menu and mumbled, “Okay, I invited them to join me for dinner.”
“So I’m to be a big surprise to them both?” When she refused to answer, or even look up, Jase continued. “I hope you’re going to hone your acting skills. I thought the idea was for them to believe we’re a couple?”
She shot him what he’d christened her killer glare.
“We need to spend the day together. You’re way too skittish for them to ever believe—”
“There’ll be nothing wrong with my acting ability.” Her grated words were accompanied by another glare down her upper-class nose. “I’m ready to order.”
He ignored the command in her words. “So what shall we do tomorrow? Any ideas?”
Not summoning their waiter earned him yet another dissatisfied glower. He couldn’t contain his smile as she lifted a beckoning hand herself.
Whether the waiter knew Debra, or just recognised her standing from her impervious manner, he rushed to their side for their order.
“Stop scowling at me and smile,” Jase demanded when they were alone again.
Surprise covered Debra’s face. “I’m not—”
“Yes you are.” He clasped her cold hand. “Relax.” Her gaze lowered to where he rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. Her face paled.
“You’ve let your hair down, Debbie. Its time you let the rest of yourself relax too.” His fingers tightened a little. “Nothing bad is going to happen because you loosen up a little.”
The obvious panic in her eyes as she looked up at him dumbfounded Jase. Angry and saddened by such acute anxiety he swore under his breath. What, or more likely who, had hurt her so bad that she’d lost faith in herself?
“Would you like to dance?” The dance floor here was larger than at last night’s restaurant. The few couples on the floor were actually dancing. “Come on,” he urged with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “It’ll be fun.”
It was his fault she frowned. Regret surged through him. But she hadn’t categorically refused. Pushing out his chair, he rose.
Did she know how adorable she looked nibbling her bottom lip like that? Probably not. She would never accept that word as one to describe herself. The tremor in her hand as she placed it in his thrust all his protective instincts into high gear. No one else would get the chance to hurt her ever again.
****
Was Jase leading her into the lion’s den? Is this how Daniel felt? Debra tasted blood and knew she’d split her lip. Her heart thumped, its echo in her ears almost deafened her. She was so afraid of what her feelings for this man could do to her.
But Daniel had survived. Maybe she could survive, too. She stumbled and might even have fallen but for Jase supporting her. She couldn’t look as he turned her into his arms lest her daring thoughts might be reflected in her gaze.
Instead she stared at his dark jacket as her mouth parched. She dreaded a replay of the previous night’s dancing. A gasp caught air deep in her throat as she accepted what she was truly dreading was there might not be a replay.
As Jase led her around the floor her trembling eased. When he’d asked her to dance, he’d meant dance. This wasn’t one of his dreaded PDA’s but a legitimate invitation.
As she matched his moves she caught his delighted grin and laughed. A long time ago she’d loved to dance. But it had been years since she’d abandoned herself to the thrill of being one with the music.
By the time the band’s set had finished, Debra and Jase had created quite a stir, their matching steps earning them some quiet applause as they returned to their table.
“Where did you learn to dance like that?” She flopped into her chair, exhausted.
Jase grinned, making a big thing of wiping sweat from his brow. “That was great.” He chuckled as he joined her in gulping down some water.
“You’re very good. You could be in that dancing programme on TV.”
Debra’s mouth dropped open as ruddy colour filled his face.
“You’ve been approached?” Although his rugby career was over, his was still a household name in New Zealand. He was a celebrity.
“I was a participant on it last year.”
Her smile faltered. “I don’t get time to watch TV. Did you win?”
“Not quite.” He shrugged, a smile playing around his mouth. “We were piped at the post.”
The vision of him flying across the dance floor was vivid. Then she frowned. The faceless beauty floating along in his arms gave Debra the reaction of fingernails being drawn down a blackboard.
The arrival of their starter interrupted her jumbled thoughts. She wondered if the programme was available on video. If so, she’d still be able to see him when this farce was all over. In the isolation of her apartment she could drool over him, weaving dreams of what might have been.
Ignoring his astonishment as she leapt to her feet, she excused herself and dashed for the ladies’ room, leaving her shrimp cocktail sitting. Locking herself in a cubicle she sank onto the commode and buried her face in her hands. What was the matter with her? She swallowed a groan. Jase McEwan was turning her into a dithering idiot.
Concern was evident in Jase’s expression when she returned. “Everything okay?”
She gave a stiff nod and began eating. She felt his regard for some moments before he spoke again.
“I had a quiet word with the maitre d’.” He smiled. “You know, playing the I’m-a-stranger-here-in-town card and asking if there was anything special on around the place. He mentioned a market day up in Martinborough, and suggested it was well worth the trip. I don’t know if you’ve ever been, or if you’d be interested?”
Now in tight control of her wayward emotions, Debra had no difficulty glancing across at him. “We don’t have to spend the day together. The evening will suffice.”
“You have plans?”
His question took her by surprise and she was afraid her expression probably showed this. Saturday morning she cleaned her apartment and did her laundry. The afternoons were invariably spent either in the office or doing work she’d taken home with her. No, she had no specific plans.