"It wouldn't hurt." I took a quick look around the room. Nothing suspicious. But Paige was devious. I didn't trust her. One prank was never enough.

  Shelby tossed her visor on the table and picked up a handwritten note on the table. "'Please accept our apologies.' It's signed Chrissy and Adam."

  "I can't believe Paige didn't accept responsibility. She let the bride and groom take the fall." I inspected the replacement candle. "It's sealed."

  "That's a good sign," Shelby said. "I'd love to smell it." She batted her eyes at me. "Would you do the honors and open it?"

  "You just want to see me glittered."

  "Yeah." She flashed me a flirty smile. "'Cause there's nothing sexier than a man covered in pink glitter."

  "We'll try it out on the deck. Where it can do the least damage." I carried the candle out to the balcony. Shelby followed me.

  I held the candle so that it faced away from me. "Ready?"

  "I'm holding my breath."

  I pried open the lid. Nothing. "It's just a candle."

  "That was anticlimactic." She looked almost disappointed.

  "Yeah. Nothing compares to a glitter explosion." I handed it to her.

  "My hero." She took a deep whiff of the candle. "Oh, that's lovely. I can't imagine carrying such a beautifully fragrant bouquet." She held it out for me to smell.

  I inhaled. "Nice." But I was looking at her. She was gorgeous as hell.

  "Did you really black out part of your Vegas trip?" She put the lid back on the candle. "You really can't remember?"

  "Would I tell such an embarrassing story if it wasn't true? Those few hours are a complete and total void. Like someone erased them from my life. I get a headache even trying to remember. It's frustrating as hell."

  "Hmm." She seemed lost in thought.

  "Have you ever been to Vegas?" I asked.

  She looked startled. "What? Oh. Once. Years ago. A bachelorette party. Nothing special." She glanced at her watch. "I need a shower. It's going to take me a while to get ready. Washing the glitter out of my hair will be a job in itself."

  Why did I get the feeling she was deflecting?

  I followed her into the room. Her suitcase sat open on a rack. Her suit bag and dress bag hung in the closet.

  "Nice luggage," I commented, missing the easy fake relationship we had when the world was watching. Wanting it in private, too. "Pink."

  "Yes. With all the latest technology, including backup battery packs. It's my honeymoon luggage." She paused. "Still packed for my honeymoon. I didn't even have to repack. Except for the dress you had so much trouble stuffing in the car."

  "You brought your honeymoon clothes?" I swallowed hard, thinking of the sexy underwear and nighties she must have brought. Or maybe she hadn't brought any at all.

  She smiled mysteriously. "I did. What do I wear to this gambling night tonight?" She walked over and grabbed our event schedule.

  "Something sexy." It just popped out.

  She looked up from reading the event card. "Seriously. What kind of event is this?"

  "Seriously," I said. "All I know is what Charles told me. There's a cocktail hour, followed by a casino night and food. One room will be set up with a buffet and serving stations. Gambling, using play money, will be set up around the rest of the ground floor. There will be prizes you can buy with your cash.

  "While the guests are enjoying themselves, the wedding party will do their rehearsal thing and join us when they're done. So, seriously. Dress for a night in a fancy casino."

  "I think I can manage that." She glanced at the schedule again. "We have a couple's massage in the spa tomorrow. I'm looking forward to that."

  "Yeah. It appears so." I couldn't get that out of my mind, either.

  "Wow. Just wow. I've been involved in a lot of weddings. But this one is so elegant…and perfect down to the smallest detail. It blows my mind. The bride and wedding planner must be so detail-oriented…" She shook her head. "Just how bridezilla is this bride?"

  I grinned. "According to her dad—very. At times. You seem to be interested in all the wedding details. Tell me about your wedding. Did you enjoy planning it?"

  Her face fell.

  Shit, Dex. Now you put your foot in it.

  She took her time before answering. "Enjoy it? That's hard to say. I knew what I was doing more than most brides do. I had a better handle on prices and scheduling. I knew who I wanted for what and what venue I wanted. Who the best people in the business are. That all helped, I suppose.

  "The wedding itself was going to be perfect. Only on a slightly lesser financial scale than this one." She smiled sadly. "But still, way above what we could really afford. I have so many friends and connections in the wedding industry. Many of them were donating their time and services as their gift to us. Time and services that made for exceptionally generous gifts.

  "Everything was going to be perfect. Except for the most important detail—the man I was marrying." She stopped short.

  "Tough subject? Sorry." I meant it.

  "No. I was just thinking. Part of the reason I called off my wedding when I did was because, as a highly trained wedding professional, I realized that cancelling two weeks before was the last minute I could to cause the least disruption to everyone else. And put out my generous friends the least.

  "The cake decorator hadn't started. The photographer still had time to book something else last minute. The caterer hadn't purchased the food yet.

  "Really, sometimes I think my critics would have been right about me being a runaway bride. If I hadn't been in the industry, if I didn't have so many friends willing to do so much for me, would I have simply bolted at the altar?"

  "It would have been more dramatic," I said.

  "You look like you mean it would have been more fun." She laughed. "At least I would have rightly earned the title of runaway bride, instead of just being a pretender."

  "How do you like your eggs?" I joked. "Not like the ex does?"

  She smiled. "I wish my problem was so simple. I love that old movie, by the way."

  "You would."

  She gave me a playful shove. "I'm impressed you've seen it."

  "Mom made me watch it with her when I was a kid."

  "It's fun, but it's wrong. I'm not molding myself to some guy's ideal. I'm simply no good with commitment. And really bad with my own weddings—" She stopped herself short again and paled.

  I came up behind her, aching to put my arms around her and comfort her. "One case of cold feet, justified cold feet, doesn't make you bad at weddings."

  "No?" She pulled a blouse out of the suitcase, shook it out, and hung it over the back of a chair. "Maybe you're right. But I feel like a dedicated commitment-phobe right now. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to commit."

  "Join the club. We're a good group of people. Some of us."

  She turned over her shoulder to me. "Good to know I'm in a fake relationship with someone who truly gets me."

  She made me smile.

  "I'm going to be a while in the bathroom," she said. "If you'd rather shower first?"

  "Go ahead. I'm quick. I don't need much time."

  "Great." She sidestepped me, headed to the closet, grabbed something from her suit bag, and disappeared into the bathroom.

  She left me listening to the running water, imagining all kinds of things a fake boyfriend shouldn't.

  I grabbed my laptop to get some work done. I worked through the sound of the shower, the sound of a blow dryer, some dead air with just the bathroom fan going…

  Shelby naked. Naked Shelby. Bare, bouncing, wet, naked breasts…

  It was impossible to concentrate. All these erotic thoughts about naked Shelby…

  Sitting on the bed when there were definitely more fun ways to use a bed—

  The bed!

  I got up and eyed the bed. It was on the wall we shared with Justin and Kayla's room. After the conversation I'd had with Justin, a quiet bed was going to be a dead giveaway that there was no action going on here. Lala might even get suspicious.

  In fact, I expected to hear some headboard pounding later when Lala came clean to Justin about the baby she was expecting.

  I sat on the bed, giving it a gentle bounce. I was wondering how to convince Shelby we needed to give the bed a simulated sex round later, or the real thing. Definitely the real thing would be better. To protect both our reputations. Just then, Shelby came out of the bathroom wearing a skintight bright pink dress straight out of one of my wet dreams.

  Have mercy.

  "Is this appropriate for tonight?" She did a little spin for me.

  Her ass looked good in that dress. I wanted to coil myself around her. "Would a catcall get me slapped?"

  "A hot-dog whistle would be better." She winked.

  Never one to disappoint a lady, I whistled, doing my best hey, baby whistle.

  "That's more like it." She cocked her head, studying me. "Were you bouncing on the bed when I walked in?"

  "I was."

  "Is it a habit of yours? Do I have to tell you no more monkeys bouncing on the bed?"

  "I was thinking of two grown monkeys doing more than bouncing." I pointed to the wall. "We share that wall with Justin and Kayla. If we're going to convince them this is real"—I pointed between her and me—"we're going to have to make some noise. Justin was already razzing me on the course today."

  "I see. I think that can be arranged. I know quite a lot about squeaking bedsprings and faking moaning."

  "Are you as good at faking as Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally?"

  "Better. Want me to show you?"

  A text interrupted our titillating banter. "I'm dying to see that. Hang on." I grabbed my phone and frowned. "Carol."

  I read the message.

  "That fucker," I mumbled.

  "What?" Shelby looked alarmed. "Dex? What's wrong?"

  Chapter 20

  Shelby

  The scowl on Dex's face scared me. "What's wrong? Why did Carol text you? Is Bella okay?" My heart stopped.

  "Mitch stopped by your house."

  "What?" Anger mingled with relief.

  "He dropped by to 'surprise' you." Dex's expression was hard. "He wanted to know where you were. Carol didn't tell him, of course."

  I blew out a breath and sat in a chair. "Yay for that. Good for Carol."

  "Your neighbor was another matter."

  "What? Which neighbor?"

  "I don't know. Some old guy, Carol said. She doesn't mention his name."

  "Probably Mr. Crenshaw. You'd think the old ladies would be the gossips. But the old men can be so much worse. Mr. Crenshaw is the worst of the worst. But he couldn't have known much. The neighbors don't even know I broke up with Mitch. Though I'm sure some of them have speculated."

  "Carol said she saw Mitch stop and talk to the old man on his way to his car," Dex said. "The old guy was taking a walk. As soon as Mitch drove off, Carol caught the old guy and pumped him for what he said."

  "I'm sure he was happy to tell her." I was feeling crotchety. Shouldn't that have been the provision of old men?

  "The guy said he told Mitch he saw you pull away with a handsome rich guy in a red Porsche this morning." Dex grinned. "The old guy gets some points for that."

  "A handsome rich guy?" I made a point of looking comically skeptical.

  "That's what he said." Dex's eyes sparkled. He was so full of it.

  "Did he say smart, too? That would sound exactly like Mr. Crenshaw. Not."

  Dex laughed. "Could have. Carol didn't say. She doesn't like to give me a big head."

  "All kidding aside, I'm sure the general truth got Mitch's anger going."

  "Especially when the snitch told him that you took a lot of luggage, probably enough for a honeymoon, including a big dress bag that we had a hell of a time getting into the car."

  "He did not say that. A lot of luggage!" I rolled my eyes and snorted.

  Dex held his phone out. "Read what Carol wrote for yourself. He also said my ass looked great while I struggled with the dress. I should shake my booty more often. I'd probably get more chicks."

  I brushed the phone away playfully. "Keep your lies to yourself." I became serious. "If he mentioned that my luggage was pink, Mitch would have gone apoplectic. He knows that's the luggage I bought for our honeymoon. Good old Mr. Crenshaw. Remind me to bake him some tasteless cookies sometime."

  "Don't be too hard on him," Dex said. "In all seriousness, he didn't give Mitch any information he could act on."

  "You're right," I said, hoping he was right. "Mitch can go f—" I caught myself. "Screw him. We'll have fun hitting the jackpot tonight. Are you feeling lucky?"

  "Oh yeah." Dex gave me a look that curled my toes.

  I put a purr in my voice and slid into my sultry voice. "Good. I am, too. I'll show you just how much later. When I bounce the bed to impress our neighbors, big boy with the nice ass that even old men admire."

  Dex and I broke out laughing together.

  "Can't wait," he said.

  "I haven't finished my toilette." I grabbed the pink leather gift tote. "There's something for every event in here. I wonder if there's any evening appropriate glitter. Something in a deeper shade of pink for night, maybe."

  I rummaged in the bag. "Oh, look." I pulled out a pretty pink leather clutch purse that matched the tote. I couldn't resist opening it. Inside was a clip-on strap and plenty more. "It's filled with play money.

  "Let me count my money." I riffled through the bills. "Tens, twenties, hundreds, and thousands! Too much for little old me to count. I'm rich. I'm rich!

  "And what a surprise. Every bill has a picture of the bride and groom instead of George Washington's mug."

  "And the wedding date, too?" Dex guessed.

  I made a mock look of surprise and put my hand to my heart. "You must be psychic."

  He put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. "Wait. I'm getting a vision. I predict you'll spend the evening with a tall, dark, card-counting near stranger. Who loves dogs and has a nice ass."

  "Sounds delightful." I set the purse on the table. "I'll be looking for him."

  I'd actually been looking for something specific in the tote. I pulled the specially blended Hudson/Kangley wedding perfume out. "Something for every event," I whispered as I admired it.

  The bottle was beautifully styled clear glass. The cap had leather flowers on it like those in the floral arrangements around the resort. The perfume inside was a pale pink.

  I held the bottle reverently. "I'm sure this is for tomorrow. But…"

  I sprayed a squirt on a sheet of resort stationery and waved it to dry it. "Why wait? If it's good, it's going on."

  I took a sniff. "Oh. Yum."

  The scent was sweetly floral, totally bridal, but somehow still managed to conjure up thoughts of a wedding night tangled in silk sheets.

  I ran my finger over the sample I'd sprayed. It didn't stain my finger or cause me to react as if I'd touched poison ivy. Also, no glitter effects.

  Dex watched with interest. "What are you doing?"

  "Checking for poison or pranks." I shrugged. "It seems safe."

  I sprayed the perfume on my pulse points, watching Dex watch me. Especially as I sprayed the tops of my breasts. "Creating a perfume for the wedding is absolute genius."

  "Oh?"

  "Yes," I said. "Scent is a powerful memory inducer. The experts recommend that a bride buy a brand-new scent for her wedding. Later, whenever she or the groom smells it, it will bring the memories and romance of their wedding right back to them. As if they were transported back. Now all the guests will enjoy that same experience and flood of memories of this weekend.

  "And," I said, thinking on my feet, "if we all wear this to the wedding, no conflicting perfumes. No one wearing old perfume, or overpowering scents. The air will be gently perfumed with one, perfect bridal scent. Brilliant." I lifted my wrist to my nose. "Fantastic."

  I went to him on the bed and sat next to him. I stretched out my neck. "Smell me. And tell me what you think."

  He leaned into me, nuzzling his nose into my neck. "Nice." His eyes were dark and round.

  Drawing him close had been my intention. "And now we'll always have this scent to remind us of our first weekend away as a fake couple."

  "Nice," he said again. He was staring at me.

  "It's getting late," I whispered sultrily. "You'd better shower."

  "Yeah," he said.

  "Watch out for the glitter," I said. "I did my best to rinse it out of the shower. But you know glitter. It sticks around."

  He got up—rather reluctantly, I thought—and went to his suitcase. "I'll introduce you to the bridesmaids tonight. So you can get your hand-lettering clutches into them."

  "Thanks. I think."

  "And you'll get to meet Ellie and Christopher," he said. "As you know from my dossier, Ellie is one of my best friends. She's not going to be as easy to fool as Justin."

  "Leave that to me," I said. "Kayla isn't easy to fool, either. But I think I did it."

  He headed toward the bathroom.

  "Dex?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Tonight, the moment we step out this door, it's game on. You and I are going to be the most in-love, hot-for-each-other couple the world has ever seen."

  "The world? Ever?"

  I shrugged. "I'm an overachiever. I told you that."

  Chapter 21

  Shelby (Novice gambler, fake seducer, pretender.)

  The moment we stepped out of our room, I let go of my inhibitions and fears. I became the woman I'd dreamed of being with Dex. I let myself touch him and show my desires and affection openly, flirt the way I'd imagined for two years. Fantasies were beautiful things, especially when you got to live them in the flesh. I wasn't about to waste this opportunity.

  I caressed his shoulders as he closed the door and slipped my arm around his waist, snuggling into him, inhaling his scent. Gripping him possessively. Mine. Heady stuff.

  He slid his arm around my waist, pulling me close as if I were his. "Game on." His breath was hot in my ear, his body hard against mine. He smelled deliciously of the wedding cologne. But then, I supposed every man around here would. Sooner or later.