Free Falling For Her Fake Fiancé (The Beaumont Heirs 5) by Sarah M. Anderson Page A

didn’t want him to try and make her love him.
    She had not lied. She would not love him.
    That was how it had to be.
    * * *
    “Delores,” Frances said as she swept into the reception area. “Is Ethan—I mean, Mr. Logan—in?” She tried to blush at the calculated name screw-up, but she wasn’t sure she could pull it off.
    Delores shot her an unreadable glance over the edge of her glasses. “Had a good weekend, did we?”
    Well.
That was all the confirmation Frances needed that the stunt she’d pulled back in the hotel had done exactly as she’d intended. People had noticed, and those people were talking. Of course, there’d been some online chatter, but Delores wasn’t the kind of woman who existed on social media. If she’d heard about the “date,” then it was a safe bet the whole company knew all the gritty details.
    “It was lovely.” And that part was not calculated at all. Kissing Ethan had, in fact, been quite nice. “He’s not all bad, I don’t think.”
    Delores snorted. “Just bad enough?”
    “Delores!” This time, her blush was more unplanned. Who knew the older lady had it in her?
    “Yes, he’s in.” Delores’s hand hovered near the intercom.
    “Oh, don’t—I want to surprise him,” Frances said.
    As she swept open the massive oak door, she heard Delores say, “Oh, we’re all surprised,” under her breath.
    Ethan was sitting at her father’s desk, his head bent over his computer. He was in his shirtsleeves, his tie loosened. When she flung the door open, his head popped up. But instead of looking surprised, he looked pleased to see her. “Ah, Frances,” he said, rising to his feet.
    None of the strain that she’d inflicted on him two days ago showed on his face now. He smiled warmly as he came around the desk to greet her. He did not, she noticed, touch her. Not even a handshake. “I was expecting you at some point today.”
    Despite the lack of physical contact, his eyes took in her hot-pink suit. She did a little twirl for him, as if she needed his approval when they both knew she didn’t. Still, when he murmured, “I’m beginning to think the black dress is the most conservative look you have,” she felt her cheeks warm.
    For a second, she thought he was going to lean forward and kiss her on the cheek. He didn’t. “You would not be wrong.” She waltzed over to the leather love seats and spread herself out on one. “So? Heard any of the chatter?”
    “I’ve been working. Is there chatter?”
    Frances laughed. “You can be adorably naive. Of course there’s chatter. Or did Delores not give you the same look she gave me?”
    “Well...” He tugged at his shirt collar, as if it’d suddenly grown a half size too small. “She was almost polite to me this morning. But I didn’t know if that was because of us or something else. Maybe she got lucky this weekend.”
    Unlike some of us.
It was the unspoken phrase on the end of that statement that was as loud as if he’d pronounced the words.
    She grinned and crossed her legs as best she could in a skirt that tight. “Regardless of Delores’s private life, she’s aware that we had an intimate dinner. And if Delores is aware of it, the rest of the company is, as well. There were several mentions on the various social media sites and even a teaser in the
Denver Post
online.”
    His eyes widened. “All of that from one dinner, huh? I am impressed.”
    She shrugged, as if this were all just another day at the office. Well, for her, it sort of was. “Now we’re here.”
    He notched an eyebrow at her. “And we should be doing...what?”
    She slipped the computer out of her bag. “You have a choice. We can discuss art or we can discuss art galleries. I’ve worked up a prospectus for potential investors.”
    Ethan let out a bark of laughter. “I’ve got to stop being surprised by you, don’t I?”
    “You really do,” she agreed demurely. “In all honesty, I’m not that shocking. Not compared to some of my