Marriage by Mistake(5)

"Troy, my beloved younger cousin." Dean wanted to make it clear the jig was up. "He was there during the hypnosis, he gave me the suggestion. Now he thinks to turn the screw even further. Send some blond sex goddess to my office during the vice presidents meeting. Very funny."

The woman stared at him. "Sex goddess?"

An incredible burden rolled off of Dean. He was so relieved he laughed. "You nearly had me there, for a minute."

"I — I beg your pardon?" She managed to sound both indignant and incredulous.

"You must be an actress." Dean smiled at her. "You've obviously been trained to express and elicit emotion."

She merely stared at him, open-mouthed.

Sighing, Dean turned for his massive office desk. "When I called in after being missing for two days, Troy claimed he'd been frantic, looking for me, that he regretted the hypnotic suggestion, his little joke, but I guess that didn't last. He sent you."

Behind his desk now, Dean paused and threw the woman a cutting glance. "And I have a good idea what he wanted me to think about you."

Finally, the woman closed her mouth. But she wasn't ready to give up the game. "Hypnotic suggestion?" she repeated, very slowly. "Are you saying...you don't remember meeting me?"

"No." Dean met the little actress's eyes. "I'm saying I have never met you at all."

She was looking at him as if he'd just grown another head. "You deny it?" she finally asked, whisper soft. "You deny we even met after my show on the Strip?"

She'd been in a show? On the Strip? Dean's heart plunged. But no, no — She was an actress, a plant of Troy's. Of course. That's how she knew it was in Las Vegas he'd finally 'woken up' from his trance. It's how she knew the type of woman his father brought home, the type who'd happily prance naked on a spotlit stage.

He cleared his throat, doing his best not to envision this particular woman prancing naked. "Surely Troy explained everything to you, but for the sake of argument, I'll say it again. For two days I was following a hypnotic suggestion. I don't remember anything that happened. Which makes it easy for someone like you to help my cousin play this little trick on me."

The fringes over her chest began to rise and fall with her alleged emotion. "I don't believe this," she muttered. "I finally go to the trouble of tracking down the lout, confronting him, and he claims he was 'hypnotized.' Doesn't even remember me. That's cute. Convenient. And original."

"I'm not 'claiming' I was hypnotized. It's true." Dean nearly bit his tongue. He didn't need to defend himself. She knew.

She took a step back. "I'll tell you what's true. You're a lying...Casanova!"

Dean's fingers clenched into fists. Was she saying — ? All right, he'd admit he was attracted, maybe even aroused, but that was just from...surprise, and her acting ability. She wasn't his type; not understated elegance, sophisticated or genteel. And besides, she was only Troy's friend. Dean had never laid eyes on her before that morning. "We did not sleep together," he told her, low.

She shot him a gaze replete with scorn. "Oh, right. You forgot."

Dean's jaw tightened. He could not have, would not have, slept with a Las Vegas dancer. No, not even if watching the fringes rise and fall on her jacket was raising the temperature beneath his suit to about four hundred degrees.

But the woman wasn't done. With one hand, she pointed to a finger on the other. "How do you intend to forget this?" she wanted to know.

Dean forced his gaze from her chest. "Excuse me?"

She began pulling on the indicated finger, then held up an object that was too small for Dean to see. She shook it at him. "Our wedding ring, Dean. So please tell me, did you intend to 'forget' we were married, too?"

Dean felt his heart stop right in its place. Married? Right before he passed out from lack of oxygen, he dragged in a breath and reminded himself this was just Troy. Really playing hardball, even for a joke. He wasn't married. Not to her.

And yet — and yet — he couldn't remember those two days. Amnesia hadn't been part of Troy's suggestion. Why the hell couldn't he remember?

Slowly, Dean shifted his gaze to meet hers.

Her eyes glittered with anger and insult. It was hard to believe even an actress could pull it off.

"Here," she said, and threw the ring hard. It made a small thud as it hit the carpet behind Dean's desk. "So much for your promises," she whispered hoarsely.

Dean watched, immobilized, as she whirled and threw open the door. He saw a flash image of Mrs. Barnes and a lot of swinging fake leather fringe before the automatic spring returned his abused office door to its frame.