Plain Jane's Plan

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.”