“This isn’t necessary,” she choked. How could she wear this? The sum total of her belongings, home, and savings, did not amount to this. Besides, wearing a man’s ring under false pretenses. Wasn’t that fraud?
“Oh, my dear, but it is. It is all part of the subterfuge. Why would a man of my stature propose to a woman without a ring?”
Jacyn knew better than to argue any further. She’d given up two months of her life to this charade, and she had no doubt that was just the first of many falsehoods she would be immersing herself in until this man saw fit to release her from their agreement.
Which brought her to: “We need to discuss conditions.”
His face grew serious, but not before the smallest of amused smiles flickered across it. “Of course,ma puce.What are your conditions?”
“You are not to kiss me—”
“Oh, but Jacyn, what fiancé does not kiss his betrothed?”
True,she thought. She fumbled. “Well, notdeepkisses. Not…” She didn’t know how to explain that she didn’t want his tongue anywhere near hers.
“NoFrenchkissing?” He couldn’t squelch a grin.
“I know you think that’s hilarious,” she said snippily. “But yeah. And you will keep your hands to yourself.”
The bastard decided to negotiate. “May I hold your hand?”
“Only when you have to.”
“Hug you?”
The idea of him putting his arms around her made her shiver. But again, the bit of theater they were about to put on before the people who knew him best might require it. “If you can keep it under three seconds,” she said firmly.
“Catch you if you fall?”
Now he was just messing with her. “Mr. Dubois…”
He put a finger to his lips, and said in a stage whisper, “Shh,ma belle.First names only, remember?”
She wondered if their deal would be off if she smacked him, because God knew he deserved it. But she tried to control her irritation. “Do you prefer Alexandre or Alex?”
“People who know me well call me Alex. And since we’re about to be married –”
“Alex it is, then.” Then Jacyn remembered what was bugging her since they’d cemented their unholy alliance. “We won’t have to share a room, will we? Are there enough rooms in your mother’s house that we don’t have to, you know, sleep in the same bedroom? Or, on the same bed?”
Mr. Du—Alex, she corrected herself, seemed to find this amusing. “You can relax; we will not have to share. My suite of rooms are being prepared. You’ll have your own bedroom.”
“Thank God—”
“But it will be adjacent to mine, naturally. And there is a door that allows one of us to have access to the other.” He paused and correctly read her horrified expression. “It can be locked from either side, so we do not have to be in close quarters at night. Unless, of course, you want to be.”
In your dreams,she thought. She’d rather share a connecting door with a pack of overgrown pit bulls.
For the next half an hour, Alex grilled her on stories of her life, to flesh out his knowledge of her, he insisted, just in case anyone should ask. What city she was born in, the first pet she ever had, where she’d gone to school. She dutifully answered as best she could, until her energy began to drain. Despite the coffee and willful struggles, her eyelids drooped, and she stifled a yawn.
“I think it is time for you to sleep,” he decided. “We still have many hours of flying before we arrive at Orly.”
She nodded tiredly. It had been a long, long day. She leaned back in the comfortable armchair. “Maybe I could ask for a blanket?”
He seemed highly amused by that suggestion, and instead of calling the flight attendant he led her deeper into the plush belly of the plane, to stand beside two comfortable looking beds, which had been prepared for occupancy with clean sheets and blankets. On one, a pair of navy pajamas was folded. On the other, a matching nightgown. She gave him an anxious look. There was hardly three feet of space between the two beds. Was he really expecting her to sleep next to —
He read her mind. “You can draw those curtains around the bed to give you privacy. I will remain out front on one of the couches. I assure you I will be fine. They’re quite comfortable.”
Be that as it may, she felt guilty for making him give up his place. “Are you sure you—”