She stopped to look in another store window, not to peruse the wares, but because she needed a moment to choose her words. “I know I couldn’t have gotten them to back me without you. And I know that you don’t really have a stake in any of this.”

“I have the same stake as you.” He turned her to face him. “You don’t have a client, Sutherland. No retainer, no fee.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“No.” He smiled and kissed her brow. “It doesn’t. Sometimes you’re involved simply because there’s a chance you can make a difference.”

“I thought it was because of Rose,” Mel said slowly. “And it is, but it’s also because of Mrs. Frost. I can still hear the way she was crying when we took David away.”

“I know.”

“It’s not that I’m a do-gooder,” she said, suddenly embarrassed. He kissed her once more.

“I know. There are rules.” He took her hand, and they began to walk again.

She took her time, keeping her voice light, as she touched on something that had been nagging at her brain for days.

“If we can really get set up by the end of the week, we’ll be sort of living together for a while.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Well, no. If it doesn’t bother you.” She was beginning to feel like a fool, but it was important she make him understand she wasn’t the kind of woman who mixed fantasy with reality. “We’ll be pretending that we’re married. That we’re in love and everything.”

“It’s convenient to be in love when you’re married.”

“Right.” She let out a huff of breath. “I just want you to know that I can play the game. I can be good at it. So you shouldn’t think that …”

He toyed with her fingers as they walked. “Shouldn’t think what?”

“Well, I know that some people can get carried away, or mix up the way things are with the way they’re pretending they are. I just don’t want you to get nervous that I’d do that.”

“Oh, I think my nerves can stand the pretense of you being in love with me.”

He said it so lightly that she scowled down at the sidewalk. “Well, good. Fine. Just so we know where we stand.”

“I think we should practice.” He whipped her around so that she collided with him.

“What?”

“Practice,” he repeated. “So we can be sure you can pull off the role of the loving wife.” He held her a little closer. “Kiss me, Mary Ellen.”

“We’re out on the street. We’re in public.”

“All the more reason. It hardly matters how we behave privately. You’re blushing.”

“I am not.”