The Substitute Fiancée. Rebecca Russell

with your approval, because we really are running out of time.”

      Jessie smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

      The consultant stopped in front of the first door, gave Jessie a puzzled look, then motioned her inside.

      Jessie entered a spacious room furnished with a couch, a huge trifold mirror and a circular raised platform in front of it.

      A gown that screamed “Look at me” hung next to a plush white robe. Nestled below was a pair of off-white satin pumps dyed to match the dress.

      Jessie frowned. Whatever happened to simple and elegant?

      “Ms. Taggert, is something wrong with the dress?”

      Jessie forced a smile. “No. Of course not.” Her opinion of the gown didn’t matter. “I’ll try this on and be out of your hair in no time.”

      “Wonderful. Here, let me help—”

      “Thanks, but I can manage.”

      After another strange look, and obvious reluctance, the consultant left.

      Jessie stepped into the fussy gown. The dress hugged and flared in all the right places, as far as she could tell. She checked the time. With any luck, ten minutes, fifteen tops, she’d be out of there and on her way home to play in her garden.

      “Jenna, are you in there? I need to talk to you.”

      Mac! She’d only met her sister’s fiancé once, but his deep, sexy voice was easily recognizable. “I’m sort of busy right now, Mac.” What was he doing at a bridal shop? “Later works better for me,” she offered. Much later.

      “This is important.”

      Oh, God. Mac didn’t sound as if he’d take no for an answer. What was she going to do? “But you can’t see me in my dress before the wedding.”

      “Now I know something is wrong.” His voice sounded closer. “I saw you in it months ago. What’s going on?”

      Why couldn’t her sister have been a more conventional, superstitious bride-to-be? “But that was before changes were made. I want it to be a surprise.”

      “Forget about the dress. We need to talk. Now.”

      An all-too-familiar queasiness erupted in Jessie’s sensitive stomach, her body’s typical reaction to stress. She had to come up with some reason to keep Mac out. Jenna never went anywhere without makeup and every hair in place.

      “You’ve ignored my calls, Jenna. I’ve been trying to get ahold of you since yesterday when you missed your appointment to take the deposition for the Grant case. I had to send Adam to cover for you.”

      Panic gave way to worry. Jenna always put work first. Something really must be wrong, but Jessie couldn’t ask Mac about it, since she’d promised to keep her sister’s absence a secret.

      She needed to talk to Jenna, but first she would have to deal with the tenacious lawyer who would know she wasn’t his fiancée after one look at her fresh-scrubbed face. “Okay, Mac, but I need to see the consultant first. Will you find her and send her in?”

      Silence followed Jessie’s request. What would she do if he just barged in? After all, she didn’t really know her sister’s fiancé, having met him the first and only time at the couples shower she’d hosted several weeks ago at the Green Room.

      He had arrived at the popular Deep Ellum restaurant with Jenna on his arm. Every coal-black hair was in place, his manners polished, as he worked the room like a seasoned politician and flashed his winning smile.

      Of course, a man that attractive, that perfect, would choose a woman like Jenna.

      He’d kept his arm around Jenna’s waist or shoulders the entire time, an obvious sign of affection, but Jessie hadn’t been won over. Something wasn’t quite right about them as a couple, but she couldn’t define what it was and that bothered her.

      “Don’t take too long, Jenna,” Mac warned.

      The consultant rushed inside and Jessie shut the door. “I need your help.”

      “Is something wrong with the dress?”

      Jessie shook her head. “The dress is great. But I can’t let my fiancé see me like this. Do you have any makeup around here that I can use? I’ll be glad to pay you.”

      The woman’s knowing smile might as well have been an “I told you so.” No self-respecting woman ever left the house not looking her best. “No need for that. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.”

      While waiting for the cosmetics, Jessie arranged her hair into an elegant knot. As kids, the sisters had often traded places to cover for each other when the need arose. While fooling others entertained Jenna, the charades usually left Jessie reaching for the closest bottle of antacid to calm her nervous digestive system.

      Now that she was an adult, deception proved even more difficult to stomach.

      “She’ll just be a minute, Mr. McKenna,” the consultant called over her shoulder as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “You’d best hurry, Ms. Taggert. He’s wearing a hole in the carpet.” She held out a small black vinyl bag. “My makeup should work. We have about the same coloring.”

      Jessie hugged her. “You’re an angel. Thanks.” She dug through the cosmetics and pulled out concealer, determined to do the best she could, despite being makeup challenged.

      “Don’t take this wrong, Ms. Taggert, but you’re like a different person this afternoon. When you were here a couple of months ago you couldn’t make up your mind about which dress you wanted, and today you barely look at it and say it’s fine. Are you sure? Because we want you to be happy with the gown.”

      Jenna, indecisive? Not likely. The woman must have her customers mixed up. “I’m sure about the dress. It was just wedding jitters before.”

      Jessie made an attempt to apply the mascara, not surprised to find her hand shaking. What if Mac barged inside before she was ready?

      The “pearl lady” smiled. “It happens all the time. Here, let me help you. Your hands are shaking so much you’re going to make a mess of it.”

      Jessie gladly let her guardian angel take charge of the impromptu makeover while she worried about the bigger problem of fooling Mac. Surely she could pull off the charade for such a short amount of time.

      Minutes later, with her hair and makeup near-perfect, she felt ready to face the man on the other side of the door who had driven across town in search of answers, answers she didn’t have to give. After more heartfelt thanks, she sent the consultant outside.

      Tomorrow, once her sister returned, life could get back to normal—calm and predictable—the way Jessie preferred it.

      She closed her eyes and pictured in her mind how her sister stood, walked and talked, her facial expressions and gestures. Composed, glamorous, perfect.

      Oh, God. She couldn’t do this, was crazy to think she could fool anyone, let alone Mac.

      But she had to at least try. She took some deep breaths. “Time to begin the show,” she whispered, then opened the door.

      Mac was already walking toward her, a frown etched on his tanned, handsome face. Tall, muscular and completely male, he looked terribly out of place in such a feminine setting, but not lost. Oh, no. The determined set of his jaw revealed he was a man on a mission and he’d reached his target.

      She stepped back and gave him what she hoped was a sexy smile as she held out her hand in a stopping motion. “Don’t come any closer, Mac. This dress cost a fortune and I wouldn’t want any beads to come loose.”

      She wanted to give him every reason not to touch her. She already felt bad enough about the deception and wanted to limit the contact.

      As if he hadn’t heard, or