Her mind drifted back to just before Luke had pounded on the door, when Nick had held her down on the bed. How had she never noticed how blue his eyes were?
She was relieved to find that, even though they were technically married, their friendship hadn’t changed. Yes, there were still awkward situations—like her dress last night, but they were still best friends and comfortable in each other’s company, even in this mock marriage entanglement.
Frances’s mind darted back to the wedding. Drat but he was a good kisser. That was twice now he’d made her weak in the knees. She hadn’t thought she’d like kissing him so much. If she were honest, she more than liked it. She was starting to accept the power in attraction, and wow was she attracted to Nick. But he was off limits. She would never marry.
She scowled. Theyweremarried. She would never marry forreal. No, that wasn’t right either. They werereallymarried. But it didn’t matter. She wasn’t looking for anything permanently real. Even if Nick were willing to consider anything more than friendship, their real pretend marriage was going to end as soon as she got control of her inheritance.
Maybe she could buy into her brother's ranch like Nick was doing. Then they could be business partners even if they weren’t life partners. Even if she did like kissing him, she had to be careful not to cross the line from friends to something more. That’d be taking advantage of his good heart, and she couldn’t do that to him. They might be the very best of friends, but it’d be asking too much for him to stay married to her. Not that she’d ever ask him to.
Frances gathered her clothing, so she was ready when he came out. For a second, she was distracted by his freshly shaved face and his shapely lips.
Nope. She wasn’t going to think about that. With her head held high, she brushed past him into the bathroom. With her hand on the jamb, she turned.
“I’m getting some of those pajamas too. We’ll see who gets in the bathroom first tomorrow.” She closed the door.
* * *
Nick ignoredthe surreptitious glances from Luke and the McDaniels. The memory of his new brother-in-law knocking on the bedroom door, while he and Frances laughed inside, made Nick want to chuckle. He and his new bride must certainly be giving the impression it was a true marriage in every sense of the word.
He took his seat beside Frances and used his fork to stab one of the sausages on her plate. She shot him a sidelong glance before stealing one of his pancakes. When Mrs. McDaniel gave a soft cough, they stopped.
“When we have our own house,” Frances whispered, “we can have food fights if we want.”
“There’s no need to move out yet,” Luke said from the doorway. “If you two want to have food fights, we can send your breakfast up to your room.”
“Luke Hamblin,” Mrs. McDaniel cried indignantly, “these two are married now and should act like adults. What kind of example will they be to their children?”
“We’ll behave,” Nick said, his body shaking with suppressed laughter, “won’t we,dear?”
“Donotcall me that,” Frances said, pulling a delightful face. “It makes me sound like a grandma.”
“How about pumpkin or moppet?” he asked, trying to think of ones she’d be sure to hate. “Honey?”
Frances shook her head.
“My little codfish?”
“Call me that, and I’ll kill you in your sleep.” Frances didn’t look at him, and her tone was ominous, but the corner of her mouth twitched.
Nick focused on his food. Already, he loved being married to Frances. How bad was it going to hurt if he couldn’t convince her to let him stay her husband?
“You going to tell us what the big mystery is?” Frances asked when she’d finished eating.
“There were actually a couple of bits of information waiting for me in town this morning. One of them in the mail.” Luke raised his hands before Frances could start quizzing him some more. “I really want to get everybody’s impressions together.”
Sleigh bells jingled outside. He jumped up and left the room.
“Well, this is intriguing,” Nick said as he put Frances’s dishes on top of his own.
“Has he given you any hints, Mrs. McDaniel?” Frances picked up two serving dishes from the table.
“You know your brother likes his secrets and his grand announcements.” The housekeeper opened the door to the kitchen for them. “I just hope they’re finally going to be able to put this whole thing with that uncle of yours to rest.”
“Me too.” Frances’s steely tone carried an ominous ring. She put the dishes in the sink. “That man has caused enough grief, just counting what we know for sure. If I can prove he’s responsible for my father’s death, I won’t be satisfied until he pays for it.”
“Is that more sleigh bells?” Nick asked.
“The others must have arrived. You two had best go on then.” Mrs. McDaniel shooed them from the kitchen.
