She gazed at him, waiting for outrage, sympathy, anything that would make her feel a little better about what she was planning to do.
Ross stirred uncomfortably. It was definitely time to tell her who he was. "Charity," he began, "about the man you hired..."
Her eyes widened. "You already know about that? I hope Mason doesn't tell everyone in the building. Besides, I don't think I'm going through with it."
It was Ross's turn to be surprised. "You're not?"
She shook her head and her golden hair flew around like a net full of fireflies.
"No. Mason predicts he'll look like a gargoyle, and when I thought about it, I had to agree. I mean, what kind of man would want to come do this sort of thing? Not anyone who had anything going in his life. What kind of man would want to give up five days to sit around and pretend to be married to me?"
"Oh, I don't know," he said gruffly, enjoying the look of her against his better judgment. "Just about any man who knew you, I'd think."
She waved a finger at him. "Now that's just it. That's what I thought of at first, picking a man I know. Ex cept... ." She frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know any who would do." She sighed, eyeing Ross speculatively. "The men I know are mostly business associates. I couldn't very well ask any of them to do this sort of thing."
"There must be someone," Ross said, trying to think of a way to turn the conversation to where he could tell her why he was here.
There's you, Charity thought.
Once the idea had en tered her mind, she felt a small stirring of excitement. Yes, this man would be perfect. He was tall, good-looking, confident-but he was also on his way to Chile. Her shoulders drooped a bit. It was the story of her life.
"I don't know," she said sadly. "We've got kind of a good-looking new cook at the restaurant, but he only speaks French. I don't know how I could explain the situation to him. I have enough trouble making him under stand comments on the cuisine, much less explaining why I want him for a husband."
Picturing how the scene might look, Ross wanted to laugh. "He might take it the wrong way," he warned sol emnly.
She nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid he might. And then we might get into areas of husbandom that I don't intend to explore at all."
She said it so vehemently, he wanted to hear more. Those very areas she was disavowing were probably the areas he was becoming more and more interested in every moment he sat beside her.