The Corporate Marriage Campaign. Leigh Michaels

met you or heard about you. But since I travel a fair amount, I could have been visiting you often. They’ll believe it.”

      “Not just some stranger… That sounds like a great title for a made-for-TV movie.”

      She said it under her breath, but there was no missing the fact that Darcy had gone past irony all the way into sarcasm, so Trey pretended he hadn’t heard her. “People will still be startled when I announce that I’m getting married, of course—”

      “I don’t doubt that a bit.”

      “But not as startled as they would be if I said I was engaged to someone they’d known all along.”

      She nodded. “Someone you’ve obviously not been serious about before.”

      He was making progress, Trey told himself. He could almost see the dents starting to show in her armor. “Right. You’re the unknown, so they’ll reserve judgment for a while. And it’s conceivable that I could have fallen in love with you, so—”

      She rubbed her temple as if it hurt. “Gee, thanks. I feel so honored.”

      Trey felt like swearing. What on earth had he said that was so terrible? She was easy on the eyes, she had a graceful walk, she projected a certain confidence even in ragged sweat clothes. If he could just surgically remove that sharp tongue, she’d be next door to perfect for the role. “I was paying you a compliment.”

      “Drop it, Trey. You’re only digging yourself a deeper hole, here.”

      “Anyway, the fact that we’re admitting we’ve only seen each other at random intervals will even help account for why the whole thing falls apart in the end—when we break off the engagement.”

      “Because when we start spending lots of time together, we’ll realize we aren’t as compatible as we thought we were.”

      “Exactly.”

      “Well, that’s not hard for me to picture,” she said. “You really have thought of everything.”

      “It’s not like this will last forever, Darcy.”

      “But it will go on for a while.” She sighed. “Just for the sake of discussion, and not because I’m agreeing to anything, how long do you expect it would take?”

      Trey stopped to calculate. “Two or three weeks.”

      “How did you come up with that? I thought you said it was going to be a three-month long campaign.”

      “Well, yes—we’ve bought ad space that far ahead. I mean it’ll be two or—more likely—three weeks for photography and production. We’ll have to start from scratch, you see.”

      “And after the shooting’s done, everything just runs on autopilot?”

      He frowned. “I suppose there would be the occasional public appearance, just to keep up the fiction, until the ads finished running.”

      “That’s what I thought. Somewhere around Christmastime, in other words.”

      “It’s not like it would be every day. Dave said there’s no one in your life, so—”

      “And since I obviously don’t have anything better to do for the next few months, I might as well do this?”

      “That isn’t quite the way I’d have put it, but…”

      “Pardon me while I go ask my brother to refer me to a good attorney.”

      Trey wrinkled his brow. “Dave is an attorney, Darcy.”

      “Yes. But after I murder him, I’m going to need someone else to defend me.”

      “Dave has only your best interests at heart. You’re at loose ends right now, and a job hunt may take months, especially since you’re not working at the moment. Employers always want to know what happened to the last job.”

      She sighed as if she’d found that out the hard way.

      Trey pushed his advantage. “I’m willing to compensate you for the time you spend with me.”

      “Oh, thanks very much for making me sound like a call girl.”

      “It’s nothing of the sort! You’d have a paying job right away, even if it’s not exactly what you’ve been applying for. And within a few weeks, by the time the photography’s all finished, I’m sure I can arrange something for you that’s closer to your field.”

      “Any job you could possibly arrange for me would look very fishy.”

      She had a point, and Trey had to admit it. “All right, if an easy-to-get job isn’t your thing, then what sort of bargain do you have in mind? There must be something you want.”

      “You mean, if I could have anything at all?”

      He noted a sudden gleam in her eyes. Greed, he thought. Or avarice. Or maybe just plain ambition. “Within reason,” he said warily.

      “Then I want my own firm.”

      He was waiting for her to say a million dollars, and so it took a few seconds for him to register what she’d actually demanded. “I said within reason, Darcy.”

      “I think I’m being perfectly reasonable. I don’t want you to set me up with a Fortune-500-sized company. I just want my own, one-person graphic-design firm.”

      “And you think it wouldn’t look suspicious if I was behind that?”

      “Who’s going to know you’re behind it? I’m tired of working for other people. I’m tired of producing infinite variations of dull subjects. I want to be able to choose which projects I handle, and set my own work schedule.”

      “Being in business for yourself isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

      “It’s better than having to deal with a boss who’s been stuck with me against his will. You help me set up my office. Then after we break our engagement, the Kentwells chain hires me to create a new logo and—”

      “Wait a minute here.”

      “That will prove to everyone that we’re breaking up amicably, remaining friends despite the fact that the wedding didn’t work out. Then you can recommend me to the other firms you deal with, and we’ll be square.”

      “That’s outrageous. In fact, it’s blackmail.”

      “It’s business. Take it or leave it.”

      “And if I leave it?”

      Darcy shrugged. “That would be just fine with me. I’ll be no worse off than when I woke up this morning—except for the attack of acid indigestion you’ve caused me. And I’m sure you could find someone among the women of your acquaintance who would play along with the idea of being engaged and be much more enthusiastic about the role than I am.”

      She had him there. They’d be too enthusiastic—that was the problem.

      “One of Caroline’s friends might be willing to help you out.”

      Trey couldn’t help wincing at the thought.

      “And if Dave put his mind to it,” she went on thoughtfully, “he might even be able to write up a contract that’s watertight enough to keep her from suing you later on for changing your mind and dumping her. Mind you, I’m not promising anything of the sort, because then I’d be practicing law without a license, and Dave says I have to be very careful about that.”

      Might. Trey didn’t feel like betting his life on Dave’s contract-writing skills. Which of course was exactly why Darcy had said it. Obviously Dave wasn’t the only member of the Malone family who specialized in twisted legal logic.

      “If I agree to set you up in business,” he warned, “I’m going to expect a lot more than the occasional public appearance.”

      Darcy