Uh-oh, the tall, raven-haired God circling Jill Davidson already knew she was an imposter.
“You look different from your photos.” The sexy executive producer scowled. His voice seemed to echo around the stone walls of the 14th century European castle the film crew had leased.
“Uhm.” Jill stalled by glancing around the large, high-ceilinged room that had been converted into a studio. Her gaze landed on the cluttered far corner where expensive computer equipment screamed that this was a first-rate operation.
And she was a first-rate fraud.
Her heart raced, pounding so loud it wouldn’t surprise her if he could hear the thunderous beat. She’d known no one would take her for her drop-dead beautiful sister. Okay, so they looked a lot alike in some ways, but when it came down to it, they were as different as Madonna and Mother Teresa. She’d told Jessie. But would her sister listen? Did she ever listen?
“I darkened my hair.” Brilliant. That should convince him. Ugh. She mentally cringed at her lack of finesse.
Rob Lancaster continued to stare, threatening her composure with his intense scrutiny. Scarier men had tried to intimidate her and failed. Jill did not squirm. At least, not under normal circumstances--not that this was in any way. Besides, she had a feeling the sweat beads popping out on the back of her neck had little to do with her supposed identity and everything to do with the velvety gaze sliding over her body.
“You, well,” his forehead crinkled, “you appear to be a little heavier than in your pictures.”
Great, just what every woman wanted to hear. This gorgeous man who stole her breath with his honey-colored eyes and Latino good looks would comment on the extra ten pounds she carried in comparison to her model slim sister.
“I can lose it.” Could she? She hated dieting and usually ate like a--well, she wouldn’t go there.
Gorgeous eyes studied her some more. “No, you’ll do just as you are.”
“Yes, sir.” Jill resisted the urge to salute. It wouldn’t do to get off on the wrong foot with the sexiest man she’d ever met. Especially since she’d be working closely with him. His spicy scent filled her nostrils. Close was good.
For the next six weeks she was in Rob’s hands—too bad not literally. She bit back a grin, then remembered the cold, hard facts of why she was here. Six weeks. How had Jessie talked her into a reality show? How did her sister ever talk her into anything? It was easy enough to figure out. Jessie asked, and Jill did. Just like always.
With each second that passed, Jill questioned her motives for agreeing to her sister’s pleas so readily. Part of it had been an excuse to avoid seeing Dan, which Jill couldn’t do in San Padres. And why shouldn’t she enjoy these next few weeks? For once, she’d be the center of male attention, treated as a desirable woman. She could look at this as a holiday. She wouldn’t really fall for any of the bachelors. Past relationships, including the one with Dan, had taught her better, but she could enjoy herself. After all, it had been years since she’d had a holiday. Being JANE MILLIONAIRE could be the vacation of a lifetime--a vacation away from reality.
“Have you read the materials you were sent?”
She ran her gaze over his strong facial features and six-foot, jean and t-shirt clad frame. When he wasn’t scowling he looked more like a movie star than a behind-the-scenes man.
“Yes, I read it on the plane.” Now that she thought of it, he had done a few acting stints early in his career. A former actor. He ought to have this reality thing down pat.
“What! You waited until when?” He threw his hands up in apparent disbelief—or was it disgust? Several of the crew milling around the studio turned to look in their direction.
“Uhm…” How did she explain she hadn’t known she was coming until the day before she’d gotten on the plane? She hadn’t even known her sister was supposed to come. Jessie had failed to mention quite a few things in the last few months. Like having auditioned for the lead role on a reality television show.
“I’m a fast read.” Thank God it was true.
His dark brows drew together, creating an intense look on his handsome face. “This is a job, not a joke.”
A joke? It was reality television for goodness sakes. Could there be a bigger joke? “No sir.” She pressed her lips together, suppressing a smirk.
Whiskey-colored eyes narrowed. “Are you mocking me?”
Jill raised her hand to cover her twitching mouth. He was serious. “Well, it’s just television.”
“Just television she says.” He glanced around the room as if he were talking to an invisible audience. Turning back to her, he drew quotation marks in the air for emphasis. “Just television is going to make you famous, Princess.”
She didn’t want to be famous. Her flighty, attention-seeking sister did, or had right till the last minute when she had gotten engaged and just couldn’t possibly go to Europe to fulfill her contract obligations by acting like a princess.
Acting. That’s what reality TV was. A bunch of nuts acting like they weren’t acting. Jill had better things to do. Like putting criminals behind bars at her job on the San Padres police force. She loved living and working in the small southern Californian community about an hour’s drive outside LA. But here she was in a tiny, never-heard-of-before European country, pretending to be her sister for the next six weeks as the star of WOLF television’s latest idea of entertainment, JANE MILLIONAIRE. What a joke.
She blinked at the annoyed man who sort of reminded her of Benjamin Bratt from her all time favorite television show LAW & ORDER. Rob still scowled. “You’re serious.”
“To the tune of the hundred million dollars the network expects to bring in.”
The room spun, her ears roared. If Jill didn’t know better she’d think the castle was under attack or zinging through the air like Dorothy’s house on its way to Oz.
“Are you okay?”
No, she wasn’t. “Did you say a hundred million dollars?”
“Yes. And your pretty little face is how we’re supposed to do it. Millions of viewers will tune in to see which one of the bachelors you spend your all expenses paid honeymoon with.”
A honeymoon? She didn’t remember seeing anything about a honeymoon in the packet of papers Jessie had stuffed into her hands at the airport. She prided herself on her legendary knack for details. She wouldn’t have forgotten such a significant detail. And her sister sure hadn’t mentioned any honeymoon.
“I have to marry one of these wackos?”