"Uh huh." He kept staring and mumbled, "I don't know."

"You don't know what?"

"Know what?" he repeated her question.

"You're not making any sense."

He snapped out of his thoughts. "When are you leaving tomorrow?"

"In the afternoon. I'm flying out with Sam and Blake."

"So you'll be in L.A. after that?"

"It's where I live, Hollywood. Not all of us have the funds to charter a private plane." Eliza used the nickname Samantha had given him when they met. His big-screen good looks were every producer's wet dream. Instead of searching for fame, he picked law. Yawn!

"Right," he said with the smirk returning to his lips. "I have a press conference in two days at the Beverly Hilton. Can you be there?"

She swallowed and felt her palms dampen even more. "To explain what happened?"

"If need be."

What could she say? It was her fault he needed the press conference. She had to do something to make it right. "Yeah. I can be there."

Carter let loose a full smile, the one Hollywood would love to have.

"You should get back to your date. I'll bet she's looking for you."

Carter tore his eyes away from her and glanced around the room. Eliza noticed his date laughing at something another man was saying. "Looks like someone's moving in," she told him, nudging his arm.

"She cut me loose. They can move in all they want."

Eliza stared at him. "She dumped you?"

He nodded, but his expression didn't change. Kathleen obviously wasn't that important to him. Or maybe there was more to the dump.

"Wait, she didn't dump you because of the election did she?"

He shrugged.

A strange weight fell on Eliza's chest. A mixture of relief that Carter wasn't attached, which was completely unwanted on her part, and dose of what a "rat" Kathleen must be to dump a guy for such a shallow reason. If his date knew Carter at all, she knew that beyond his often arrogant demeanor he'd protect a woman despite how the media would take it. Guys like Carter didn't exist outside of books.

"She's not good enough for you anyway," Eliza mumbled.

"What was that?"

"If a woman is only with you to be the first lady of California, then you don't want her." Kathleen was leaning into a Texas cowboy in a five-hundred dollar suit. Probably has an oil field.

"Is that so?" Carter asked.

"Yeah. That's so."

The music playing in the background stopped, and the emcee for the event picked up the microphone. "Well folks, looks like we need to do a little cake cutting so we can let the hosts run off and start their third honeymoon."

Eliza glanced up to find Carter observing her. He smiled and offered his arm so the two of them could help at the cake table.

As Eliza slid her hand along his arm, an electric current fluttered in her chest and raised gooseflesh on her skin. Her already warm body heated with his simple touch and tightened in all the right places.

Chapter Five.

"I need your help." Eliza stood in Samantha and Blake's living room pleading with Gwen.

"You need my help?" Gwen sat taller and lifted a manicured eyebrow high. She appeared just as surprised to hear Eliza's request as she was in giving it.

"Shocking, I know. But you have experience with this kind of thing and I'm clueless." Eliza didn't like asking for advice, but she didn't have a choice.

"What experience?"

Eliza lifted her hand to her mouth and nibbled on a fingernail. "Carter asked me to join him at a press conference tomorrow. I don't know what to wear-don't know what to say. I don't want to come off as some hick. Lord knows those pictures of us in the parking lot were less than flattering."

"I thought they were splendid," Gwen said.

"For a jeans and beer ad maybe. This is a big deal for Carter. I should look...I don't know, dignified. I'm good at evening gowns. I can do casual. But a press conference? Not a clue."

Gwen placed a hand on her chest. "I'm proud you came to me."

Oh, good. "So you can help?"

"If there is one thing my mother taught me, it was how to handle the media." Gwen stood and stuck out her hand. "Come. Let's start with the perfect clothes."

Thirty minutes later, they were standing in a designer dress store Gwen had obviously scoped out on one of her visits. The owner greeted them the moment they crossed the threshold.

Someone pressed a glass of wine in Eliza's hand while Gwen explained to Nadine, the owner, what they were looking for.

Drinking the wine kept Eliza from biting her nails.

She half listened while the other women walked around the room. Gwen removed a couple of skirt and blouse combinations from the rack. "I think dark colors will bring out her complexion and photograph well."

"Right. But not black. You're not attending a funeral," Nadine announced.

Eliza laughed, not able to shake the feeling that standing in front of a bunch of cameras might actually feel like a funeral. She'd spent most of her adult life hiding from cameras. Now she was going to be center stage.

"What about a hat?" Gwen asked. "I realize it's English of me, but a hat adds mystery and can hide some of your nerves."

Eliza snapped her attention to Gwen. "I like that idea."

Nadine left the clothes she had in her arms on a sofa. She then stepped to the back of the store and returned with a few hatboxes, removing each hat carefully. "We want mystery, not a statement. Nothing small or with feathers."

"But I like feathers," Gwen announced.

"Well, maybe a small one on the brim," Nadine agreed.

One at a time, the hats met with Eliza's head, briefly. Other than a baseball cap to hide her hair on bad hair days, Eliza didn't wear hats. The large brims felt awkward. After seeing her reflection, she couldn't help but admire how they transformed her face.

"I like the second one," Gwen said.

The brim covered Eliza's face enough to where she could dip her head maybe an inch and hide her identity. "I like it, too."

"Super. Now, on to the dress. Clean cut, nothing too low. It will be warm so short sleeves on the jacket and it needs to be silk. You'll feel confident, despite your heart pounding in your chest. Never let them see your nerves," Gwen said.

As she spoke, Nadine removed different dresses and placed them behind a screen.

There was some debate of color, but they decided on a deep navy matching the hat. The shoes were practical two-inch heels, and if Eliza were honest, more comfortable than her six-month-old running shoes. Amazing what a pricy shop could provide.

Thinking about the price of the ensemble shocked her back into reality. Although Lady Gwen and Samantha could tap into a duke's wealth, Eliza could not.

As they bagged the dress and the hat made its way into a large round box, Nadine handed Eliza the bill.

She drew in a quick breath. Three grand was a hard pill.

"You take credit cards?"

"Of course."

"Let me," Gwen offered.

"When I asked for your help, I didn't mean financially." Eliza removed plastic from her purse and pushed it toward Nadine.

"I'll be living with you by next week. I owe you something for that."

Although Eliza couldn't afford the dress, she wasn't about to let the other woman pay for it. "When you move in we'll arrange something."

Gwen must have seen the determination in Eliza's eyes and dropped the debate.

The doorbell rang to the Tarzana house Eliza had shared with Sam before her marriage. Carter was five minutes early.

"Coming," she yelled down the stairs, not sure he could hear her. She slid on her heels and checked her appearance one last time. She wasn't sure where Eliza Havens had gone. The woman in her reflection was a stranger. A mysterious, and yeah, slightly beautiful, stranger. "You can do this," she said to herself, desperate to calm her nerves. The entire ruse would crumble if she started biting her nails and fidgeting.

Gwen's pointers had gone long into the night.

"Stand still. Shoulders back, chin high. Not too high. Now tilt your head to the side and let your lips lift a fraction. Not a smile, not a smirk. Perfect."

The tips went on and on.

Gwen had done the impossible. Turned Eliza into a sophisticated lady over night. Maybe not impossible.

The bell rang again, and Eliza blew out a deep breath. "Here we go."

She straightened her skirt one last time before opening the door to greet Carter.

It wasn't Carter.

"Ms. Havens?" The short man wore a three-piece suit and a smile. In her driveway was a town car and a driver standing at the passenger door.

"I am."

The man removed his glasses and did a quick scan of her body. Nothing sleazy, just a short appraisal. His lips spread into a large grin like a man with a secret. "I'm Jay Lieberman, Carter's campaign manager. Sorry for the inconvenience, but he has to meet you at the hotel."

Disappointment punched her gut. "Oh."

"It's okay. I'll go over what to expect, and what you need to say to the reporters."

Eliza nodded, took a deep breath, and stepped through the door. After securing the deadbolt, she turned to the car and let Jay lead the way.

Twice she caught herself lifting her fingers to her lips. She reduced herself to pinching her hands to keep them in her lap. Of late, the nail biting was becoming an issue. Normally her nerves were steady. She patted her purse at her side and remembered the small pistol she kept there.

It was a security blanket. One she probably didn't need any longer, but she couldn't be too careful.

Jay explained that Carter would do most of the talking. She was to nod, smile, and tell the media that if it weren't for Carter's intervention, she and Gwen would have been in danger.

"They'll ask personal questions. Don't answer them," Jay told her. "Let Carter do the side stepping. He is the politician after all."

Right! And everyone in office masters the art of double speak their first week on the campaign trail.

The driver maneuvered them around the front of the hotel briefly, where news vans from every local station were parked. The driver didn't stop in front, instead he took a side entrance, parked, and opened the door for the two of them.

She was thankful for a few minutes out of the spotlight. Jay and the driver flanked her sides as they walked her into the hotel. A few employees glanced up as they walked through an obvious staff entrance, but no one stopped them.

The brim of your hat will hide your unease. Use it. Gwen's voice echoed in Eliza's mind and she tilted her head.

The hard floors shifted to lush burgundy carpet as they passed a doorway. The cool, dry air inside the hotel circulated the smell of whatever cleaning agents the staff used. She kept her gaze low, barely noticing where they were walking.

Jay held open another door and Eliza passed through.

"Jay, what's going on, where's..." Carter's voice trailed off when Eliza lifted her eyes to meet his.

His jaw dropped and his words dried up. Shock, admiration, and desire flashed in his eyes. "Eliza." Carter's voice was breathy.

A wave of feminine power tugged at her pride, as he stood there speechless.

"Hey, Carter," she said.