Sweet Liar by Jude Deveraux Page B

saleswomen would have nothing to do with a woman who looked as though she needed their goods?
    â€œYou look great,” Mike said, then began pushing Samantha toward the back of the store.
    There were tall, beautiful young women offering other customers samples of perfume, but they took one look at Samantha with her pulled-back hair and repulsive old sweat suit and didn’t offer her the perfume. One woman after another glanced at Mike, then at Samantha, then back at Mike, with an expression that asked, How could a great-looking guy like you be seen with a frump like her?
    As Mike practically pushed her into an elevator, Samantha almost hid behind him, trying to keep anyone from seeing her.
    Pulling Samantha along, Mike got out on the ninth floor, then led her through the children’s department.
    â€œWhere are you dragging me?” she asked, trying to pull out of his grasp, but it was like trying to break free of a tow truck.
    â€œI’m taking you to see a friend of mine. Not really a friend, more like a cousin.”
    Pulling her through offices, he didn’t stop until he came to one glassed enclosure. Behind a desk sat a young woman who was not beautiful exactly, but very striking. Her hair looked as though it were incapable of being out of place, and her clothes had obviously been made for her body alone. The sight of her made Samantha look about for a hiding place where she wouldn’t be seen by this elegant young woman.
    As soon as the woman saw Mike, she smiled and stood up, but Mike did not smile. Drawing himself into a military at-attention stance, he clicked his heels together, took her fingertips in his hand, and kissed them. “Your royal highness,” he said in a voice of an official courtier.
    Looking about the office at her co-workers nervously, the woman said, “Mike, stop that.”
    Grinning, Mike grabbed her into his arms, bent with her like something out of a Fred Astaire movie, and kissed her neck enthusiastically. “Better?” he asked as he lifted her to stand straight again.
    â€œMuch,” she said, blushing, trying to act annoyed but obviously charmed by him as she moved out of his grasp.
    â€œSo how’s the palace and the folks?” Mike asked, smiling as though very pleased with himself.
    â€œEveryone is fine—as you’d know if you bothered to visit. Mike, as honored as I am by your visit, I have work to do. What can I do for you?”
    â€œHelp us shop.” Pulling Samantha from the hiding place she was trying to make for herself between the door and a filing cabinet, he presented her as though she were something he wanted repaired, like a watch or, actually, more like a squirrel-eatin’, rifle-totin’ hillbilly.
    Seeing the way the woman looked from her to Mike in question, considering the proprietary way Mike was holding her arm, Samantha tried to explain. “It’s not like it looks. He’s my guardian.” As soon as she said it, she realized how dumb the words sounded, how she was making things worse by speaking.
    â€œRather like Tinkerbell,” Mike said, still grinning.
    â€œMore like Captain Hook,” Samantha retaliated quickly.
    At that the young woman laughed and walked toward Samantha with her hand extended. “It sounds as though you understand him. My name is Victoria Montgomery and Mike and I are cousins of sorts.” Looking Samantha up and down with a professional eye, she appraised her face, her figure, and the dreadful clothes. “What can I do for you?”
    Giving the young woman a crooked smile, doing what she could to redeem herself, Samantha said, “Make me look like one of those women on the street.”
    With a smile of complete understanding, Vicky said, “I think we can manage something.” She turned to Mike. “Why don’t you meet us in about three hours?”
    â€œNot on your life,” Mike answered. “I’m staying through all of it.