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

more conservative investment than my last ventures,” she said smoothly. “Plus, Rebecca is going to be handling more of the business side of the gallery—that’s her strong suit.”
    “You’re saying you won’t be in charge? That doesn’t seem like you.”
    “Any good businesswoman knows her limitations and how to compensate for them.”
    His lips quirked up into a smile. “Indeed.”
    There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Ethan said. Frances didn’t change her position. She wasn’t exactly sitting in Ethan’s lap, but her posture indicated that they were engaged in a personal discussion.
    The door opened and what looked like two-dozen red roses walked into the room. “The flowers you ordered, Mr. Logan.” Delores’s voice came from behind the blooms. “Where should I put them?”
    “On the table here.” He motioned toward the coffee table, but Delores couldn’t see through that many blooms, so she put them on the conference table instead.
    “That’s a lot of roses,” Frances said in shock.
    Delores fished the card out of the arrangement and carried it over to her. “For you, dear,” she said with a knowing smile.
    “That’ll be all, Delores. Thank you,” Ethan said. But he was looking at Frances as he said it.
    Delores smirked and was gone. Ethan stood and carried the roses over to the coffee table while Frances read the note.
    Fran—here’s to more beautiful evenings with a beautiful woman—E.
    It hadn’t been in an envelope. Delores had read it, no doubt. It was thoughtful and sweet, and Frances hadn’t expected it at all.
    With a sinking feeling in her stomach, Frances realized she might have underestimated Ethan.
    “Well?” Ethan said. He sounded pleased with himself.
    “Don’t call me Fran,” she snapped. Or she tried to. It came out more as a breathless whisper.
    “What should I call you? It seems like a pet name would be the thing. Snoogums?”
    She shot him a look. “I thought I said you should send me flowers when I didn’t come to the office. Not when I was already here.”
    “I always send flowers after a great first date with a beautiful woman,” he replied. He sounded sincere about it, which did not entirely jibe with the way he’d acted after she’d left him hanging.
    In all honesty, it did sound sweet, as if the time they’d spent together had been a real date. But did that matter?
    So what if this was a thoughtful gesture? So what if it meant he’d been paying attention to her when she’d said she liked flowers and she expected to be courted? So what if the roses were gorgeous? It didn’t change the fact that, at its core, this was still a business transaction. “It wasn’t a great date. You didn’t even get lucky.”
    He didn’t look offended at this statement. “I’m going to marry you. Isn’t that lucky enough?”
    “Save it for when we’re in public.” But as she said it, she buried her nose in the roses. The heady fragrance was her favorite.
    It’d been a while since anyone had sent her flowers. There was a small part of her that was more than a little flattered. It was a grand gesture—or it would have been, if it’d been sincere.
    Honest? Yes. Ethan was being honest with her. He’d been totally up front about the reasons behind his interest in her.
    But his attention wasn’t sincere. These were, if possible, the most insincere roses ever. Just all part of the game—and she had to admit, he was playing his part well.
    The thought made her sadder than she’d thought it might. Which was ridiculous. Sincerity was just another form of weakness that people could use to exploit you. Her mother had sincerely loved her father, and see where that had gotten her? Nowhere good.
    The corners of Ethan’s eyes crinkled, as if her less-than-gracious response amused him. “Fine. Speaking of, when would you like to be seen together in public again?”
    “Tomorrow night. Mondays are not the most social day of the week. I think the roses today