The Rent-A-Groom by Jennifer Blake

to hammer in his chest at the mere thought. But he couldn’t do it; he had no right.
     
     “Why not? I may be a paid escort, but I’m still a normal man, with normal impulses.”
     
    Her smile held a shade of weariness. “I never thought otherwise.”
     
    That deserved some reward. “Would you like me to get rid of Dillman?”
     
    “Could you?” Her gaze sharpened as she studied his face. “No, forget that I said that. It isn’t worth the trouble.”
     
    Her words finally answered one question for him; she didn’t care enough about Dillman to work up a good sweat over being free of him. Regardless, he should never have made the suggestion. She was suspicious enough already. One more mistake to go with the others. Or rather, one more stupid macho gesture brought on by tried temper because Dillman had ignored the warning he’d extended and his own self-disgust.
     
    This charade was getting to him. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold it together. During the long afternoon just past, he had talked more than he should have about the ranch, his views on farm subsidies, Texas politics, and a thousand other things. As he and Gina strolled around the lake earlier then sat enjoying the breeze in the gazebo, he had caught himself reaching out more than once to take her hand, touch her arm, brush her hair away from her face. Later, watching a movie with her while stretched out on the living room floor in a nest of pillows, it had been all he could do not to roll over, pin her under him, and do all those things that had haunted him the night before. Suggesting that they change clothes for an early dinner as a follow-up to their late brunch had been a desperate attempt to remove them from the suite before he made a fool of himself.
     
    Lying, hiding, pretending: he should have known he couldn’t pull it off. Of course, the act had never been intended to last so long. An hour or two, a single evening at most, then it should have been over. He was supposed to have passed the whole thing off as a bad joke, or else made a polite bow and left without a word.
     
    Instead he had gone all gallant. His motives had been the best, or so he had thought at the time. Now he wasn’t so sure.
     
    Gina deserved better. It was time he did what he had come to do, then was on his way. If he could bear to go.
     
    He gave a dismissive nod by way of agreement with her last comment. Indicating the door behind her with a quick gesture, he said, “Hungry? I’m ready to head down to Montague’s if you are.”
     
    : : :
     
    Gina glanced at Race as they waited to be seated in the hotel’s western-style restaurant. There was a forbidding cast to his features as he glanced around for the hostess.
     
    He had been something less than approachable the entire afternoon. More than once she had searched for words to ask him who and what he was, and what he wanted with her, but none had seemed right. It had occurred to her, after a time, that it would be dumb to force a showdown while they were alone. What would she do if he took violent exception to her questions? What if he told her he was a jewel thief, a hit man, a CIA operative, or something equally exotic and dangerous?
     
    No, it would be best to wait until there were people around before she forced the issue. This evening in the restaurant should do nicely, she’d thought. Now that time had come.
     
    The turmoil in her mind was more effective than a diet pill for curbing her appetite. No matter; she would be delighted to get the meal out of the way, to get everything out of the way. She was grateful when they were finally shown to a table in one corner.
     
    To say the atmosphere in Montague’s was relaxed was a vast understatement: half the male customers were eating with their hats on, and a soccer game was in progress on the big-screen television. The drink of choice appeared to be beer in long necks, and barbecued ribs and beans were the house specialty. Of the four guys