A Weekend with Her Fake Fiancé

by Traci Douglass

This weekend clearly wasn’t going to be as cut-and-dried as she’d planned, especially as her whole body tingled and her breath caught each time she locked eyes with the man. Yes, they were supposed to act like a couple for the next three days, but it was supposed to be pretend.

  This connection between them felt all too real.

  If the plane hadn’t bumped them around earlier she would’ve kissed him again. Would’ve done a lot more too, if they’d been alone. She wanted him. Intensely. Like she’d never wanted anything ever.

  Which made no sense. Carmen was a sensible person. She didn’t go around acting on her impulses, didn’t throw caution to the wind. She was the stable one, the caregiver, the person other people depended on. No matter how gorgeous Zac was, or how he made want throb through her like molten lava, she could not let him overwhelm her good sense.

  She’d lived her whole life putting others before herself, always biding her time. But she wasn’t a hermit. She dated. She went out with people. She socialized. But she never let things get too deep. Because all men left in the end.

  Her last long-term relationship before loser Jeff had lasted two years. Until Steve had moved on to greener and less complicated pastures. He’d told her they just didn’t want the same things, but deep down inside Carmen feared she knew the truth. She didn’t deserve love. After all, maybe if she’d been better, smarter, more amenable and less driven, Steve would have stayed. Her father too.

  She sighed and gazed out at the fluffy clouds below them. Now that the time had arrived to go after this clinic job she felt torn. Part of her didn’t want to miss her shot—the ambitious part of her that always made her feel like she had to prove her worth through her accomplishments. But another part of her felt scared and sad that she was willing to lie in order to get the position.

  Not that there was much she could do about it now, at thirty-thousand feet, with Zac in the seat next to her.

  There was nothing to do now but make the best of it.

  Never mind that he kissed like the devil and tasted like sinful desire...

  “This is just pretend,” she whispered aloud. “We’re friends. We don’t want to risk that.”

  “Agreed,” Zac said, not looking at her.

  “We have to work together at the hospital. No sense making things awkward.”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay. So...” She exhaled slowly and stared up at the cabin ceiling. “Just pretend.”

  He closed her folder and turned to her once more. “I’ll ask again. Tell me about this job.”

  She looked at him, surprised. “You want to hear about the position in California? Now?”

  “No.” Zac gave her a flat stare. “What I actually want is to finish that kiss we started a few minutes ago. But since I can’t...”

  She sucked in a quick breath and forced herself to concentrate on the details of the new managerial position up for grabs at the California clinic, hoping the business talk would chill her ardor.

  “The person they hire will oversee a staff of four midwives, with the possible addition of more as the practice grows. And they’ll be in charge of training too.”

  Zac’s tense shoulders relaxed a bit. “Sounds right up your alley.”

  “Yes. I plan to present a framework to assist midwives in developing a consistent approach to screening for perinatal mood and anxiety disorders to the owners while at the conference.”

  She hadn’t spoken to anyone but her sister about her plan, but it might be good to practice her spiel on him before her presentation to her potential new bosses at the conference.

  “I’d also like to develop interventions and strategies for referral, response to emergent situations, and following up to ensure continuity of care.”

  “Wow,” he said, his tone impressed. “That’s great.”

  “Thanks. Let’s hope the owners think so too.”

  Carmen checked her watch. Less than half an hour until landing. Nervousness buzzed through her system like a swarm of restless bees.

  She stared at her hands in her lap. “Listen, all reminiscing aside, I don’t normally have one-night stands like we did after that party.”

  “I know.” Zac glanced over at her.

  “You do?”

  He sighed. “You didn’t have the confidence of a serial bed-hopper.”

  “Oh.”

  Zac handed his empty beer bottle to a passing attendant, then faced her. “It’s not a bad thing.”

  “Right...” Heat prickled her cheeks and she quickly changed the subject. “Want to look at my magazine?”

  “Sure.” He laughed, staring down at the cover. “‘How to pick the best lipstick based on your astrological sign’?”

  “What?” She shrugged. “I didn’t want anything too heavy.”

  “Well, you got that, then.” He made a face as he flipped through the pages. “Seriously?”

  She glanced at the overhead bin above their head, thinking of his lone bag. “Um... Zac?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is that bag the only luggage you brought?”

  “Yeah.” He flipped a page. “Why?”

  “Did you remember to bring a tux for the evening parties?”

  Not that she didn’t appreciate his current ensemble, which clung to every muscle and sinew of his chiseled torso.

  “Oh, yeah. I had the rest of my stuff sent on ahead to the resort.” He flipped another page. “Figured it would be easier that way.”

  “Huh...” She hadn’t even considered doing that, and the fact he had gave her pause. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

  “People do it all the time. Business travelers, mainly, though sometimes other people too. Resorts usually have staff who will make sure the luggage gets to the right room after the guests check in.”

  He glanced up at her then, as if realizing he’d said too much, then looked away again fast.

  “At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

  “Interesting...” She watched him more closely. “What business did you say your father was in?”

  “I didn’t.” He handed her back the magazine. “Nice try, though.”

  “C’mon. You’ll have to trust me eventually.”

  “No, I won’t. This is just a weekend, remember? Besides, I’m Julia Roberts here.”

  “I’m sorry?” She gave him a confused look.

  “Julia Roberts? In Pretty Woman?” He grinned. “I’m your fake date. Your beck-and-call girl. Or guy, in this case. Now, give me your credit card so I can go on the shopping spree of my dreams.”

  She laughed. The man was full of surprises—she’d give him that. Her gaze fell to his lips again. Lord, she really liked those lips. But he was off-limits. Period. Amen.

  Carmen sighed and stared out the window instead. “Sorry. No credit card. And don’t expect me to climb a balcony for you either. When we part ways, I’ll let you go for good.”

  “We’ll see...” He winked, then closed his eyes again, apparently continuing his nap.

  Carmen leaned her head back against the chair and did the same, though sleep evaded her. Instead her mind churned with thoughts of them getting caught and her new career and the new future she’d planned in a shambles around her.

  No. She jolted awake. Time to shape up and concentrate on her goals. Get to the resort, get through her final interviews, get the job. Nothing else mattered. Not her feelings, not the hot guy beside her, not the incredible chemistry between them.

  Nothing.

  No matter how she might long for a real partner to share her life with someday...

  CHAPTER FOUR

  HALF AN HOUR later Zac sat beside Carmen in the limo they were sharing with Priya and Lance, zooming down the road. They crested a ridge and the Arctic Star Resort was still a sight to behold, even after all these years.

  Z
ac battled a tingle of adrenaline, seeing the towering pine and glass entryway of the main lodge, and instead focused on the glow of lights from the smaller though no less impressive private chalets in the far distance, across an open plain.

  That was where he’d lived, growing up.

  Memories of happier times, of coming home to the wonderful smells of his mother’s cooking, game nights, laughter and hugs and comfort and peace assaulted him before he shoved them away. Those days were over and best left forgotten.

  Their driver pulled up under the massive portico at the front of the lodge and Zac helped Carmen out of one side of the vehicle while Lance did the same with Priya on the other. Thankfully their traveling companions had been too busy chattering about the upcoming conference and the scenery to start another round of Twenty Questions, but Zac still felt on edge.

  He made an excuse to stay by the limo and make sure the bellman got all the luggage, but really he just needed a moment alone before walking into what he considered a war zone.

  His father had built this resort from the ground up, after making a name for himself by running several large luxury hotels throughout the world. Taking his years of knowledge with him after breaking out on his own nearly thirty years ago, Jonathan Taylor had quickly amassed an international empire, including hotels and resorts in fourteen countries and fifteen states in America. Thirty properties total, the last Zac knew, and probably still growing.

  His father had turned sixty the previous year, but showed no signs of slowing down. During his younger days Zac would’ve been proud of his father’s accomplishments. Now, he just felt disappointed.

  Once the luggage had been safely loaded onto a trolley, Zac followed the bellman into the glorious lobby of the resort. High cathedral ceilings soared above them and the glow of warm lighting glimmered off the shiny pine floors. He’d grown up here, with room service and valets and maids. He’d hung out with the cooks and the housekeepers and the security guards. They’d been like his second family.

  “There you are!” Carmen linked arms with him, the copper in her curls gleaming beneath the chandeliers hanging from huge beams above. “Isn’t this place gorgeous?”

  He gave a curt nod. It was beautiful—but not nearly as beautiful as her.

  “Wow.” Priya had walked over to a round marble table near the center of the lobby. In the middle of it sat an enormous cut-crystal vase, brimming with white lilies and roses. She leaned in to sniff a bloom, then squinted at the vase. “That’s Waterford. Worth thousands of dollars.”

  She was correct. Zac’s father spared no expense when it came to the décor in his hotels.

  “Smile, please,” Carmen whispered.

  Her warm breath sent a shiver of awareness through him, bringing him back to the present.

  “We’re supposed to be happy and in love.”

  It seemed keeping up a happy façade would be more difficult than he’d anticipated.

  “Priya...” Lance said, plopping down on one of the overstuffed suede sofas that Zac knew were handmade in London. “These chairs are amazing. We should get a couple of these for our apartment.”

  “They wouldn’t fit through the door,” Priya said, snuggling up beside him. “Too big.”

  “C’mon, let’s get checked in.” Zac steered Carmen toward the reservation desk. Lance and Priya followed.

  “Miss Sanchez?” A woman stepped out from behind the nearby concierge desk and walked over to meet them. “Welcome to the Arctic Star Resort and Spa. My name is Willow. And this must be Miss Shaw.”

  The woman shook their hands, then handed them gift bags emblazoned with the logo of the California clinic on the side.

  “We’re so happy to have you here. Please follow me. I’ve taken the liberty of booking each of you into your suites already, and the bellman has been instructed to deliver your luggage as we speak. I’ll show you to your rooms. Please do let me know if there’s anything you need during your stay. Miss Sanchez, you and your guest will be in the Yupik Suite. And Miss Shaw, you and your guest will be in the Aleut Suite.”

  They climbed a grand curving staircase to the second floor. From memory, Zac knew the wings of the hotel formed a huge square, five floors high, and surrounded a spacious courtyard in the middle, filled with flowers and blooming trees in the spring. He’d used to love playing out there as a kid. There was also a reserve near the back of the resort where the conservationists his father kept on staff cared for injured wildlife.

  The group stopped to wait for the elevators to take them up to their rooms. Zac knew there were only four suites on the top floor, all named for indigenous Alaskan tribes.

  Minutes later, much to Zac’s relief, the concierge led Zac and Carmen to the outside door of their suite.

  “Thank you, Willow,” Carmen said.

  “My pleasure.” The concierge opened the door for them, then handed them each a keycard. “As I said, please call me if you need anything during your stay. You can reach me through the front desk from eight a.m. through eight p.m. Your evening concierge will be Dustin, and he can be reached through the front desk as well. Enjoy your stay.”

  “We’ll talk later,” Lance called as Willow led him and Priya away toward their own suite down the hall.

  That was what Zac was dreading.

  He held the door for Carmen, then followed her inside. The owners of the California clinic had added a few special touches to the suite, like a bottle of champagne on ice on the coffee table in the living room, and a plate of fresh strawberries covered in chocolate in the kitchenette.

  The design of the suite was just as spectacular as the rest of the resort. High ceilings, huge windows overlooking the beautiful landscape, all the furniture plush and inviting. There was a large living room, a dining area with a table that seated eight, and a kitchenette with stove, fridge, and granite countertops.

  He and Carmen went down a short hallway to the master suite, with an enormous king-sized bed in the center of the room, a sitting area with a love seat, chairs and table near the windows, a walk-in closet, and a private balcony with a small table and chairs outside as well. The master bath was as big as the bedroom, complete with double vanities, a whirlpool tub and an entire wall of mirrors, along with a gigantic walk-in glass shower.

  If it had been anywhere but his father’s resort, Zac could’ve happily stayed there indefinitely. As it was, he couldn’t wait to get back to his small, comfy apartment back in Anchorage. His EMT salary wasn’t huge, but it covered his bills, plus a few splurges. He’d walked away from his inheritance when he’d severed all ties to his family and he didn’t miss it. Not too much, anyway.

  They went back into the bedroom and found their luggage sitting neatly stacked atop the racks in the corner. The items he’d had delivered earlier—his tux and some additional shirts and suits—had been pressed and hung in the walk-in closet.

  Money didn’t buy happiness, but it did make life a bit easier sometimes.

  “You’re awfully quiet again.” Carmen sat atop the bed, the expensive Egyptian cotton sheets rustling beneath her. “Having second thoughts?”

  “No.” Zac unzipped his bag. “Just tired.”

  “Hmm...” Carmen took off her boots, then removed her parka. “The welcome reception is at seven, which leaves us about three hours to kill.”

  “Good. I could use some time to relax and recharge before we deal with Lance and Priya again.”

  He headed for the dresser with an armload of socks and briefs, only to collide with Carmen halfway there.

  “Sorry.”

  “My fault.”

  She stepped back slightly, but not before her heat penetrated his cotton shirt. Her breath caught and her wide eyes met his. Gauging her reaction, he saw he wasn’t the only one feeling that flare of desire between them once more. The best thing to do would be to walk away, but he couldn’t seem to get his fee
t to move.

  “No problem.”

  His words emerged huskier than usual, and his gaze flickered to the bed before he could stop himself. He leaned in slightly, closing the distance between them. She was so close, so soft, so tempting... That was when he stopped. She also looked so...nervous.

  Zac frowned and straightened. “Everything okay?”

  Carmen nodded and held her hand over her heart.

  Out of habit, Zac set his things aside, then took her wrist and checked her pulse—it was hard and fast.

  “Listen, I would never force you to do anything you don’t want—”

  “I know that. It’s fine. I just...” She exhaled and looked up at him. “My stomach’s bothering me, that’s all.”

  “You’re not getting sick, are you?” He tilted his head slightly, concerned, and then felt her forehead. “I’ve got my EMT pack with me. Had it sent with my other stuff. I can get a thermometer and check if you give me a minute.”

  “No. I’m fine. It’s just stress. With the conference and the job and this pretend engagement. Which is silly, right? I mean it was my idea, but now it seems a lot harder than I expected, and awkward, and...”

  “No. It’s not silly at all.”

  She was babbling—something he knew she did when she got flustered. Normally he found it endearing. But the fact it was happening now had his pulse speeding up too, with adrenaline and anticipation.

  He tugged gently on her wrist, bringing her closer. “I know how you can get.”

  “It’s crazy. I know,” Carmen said. “I’m always cool, calm and collected. I shouldn’t let any of this get to me. It’s all pretend. It doesn’t mean anything. It isn’t—”

  “Shh...” Zac placed a finger over her lips. “Just breathe. No pressure. Think of this as us just hanging out with the gang after work. Maybe we’re at the Snaggle Tooth, having drinks after a shift. Talking, laughing, relaxing. Wendy’s doing awful karaoke with Tom. Jake and Molly have the twins. It’s all cool. No big deal at all...”

  She nodded, inhaling deeply, her gaze locked with his.

  “Good.” He rubbed his thumb back and forth over the underside of the wrist to calm her pulse. “You are going to be great this weekend. You’re smart and funny and the best damned midwife I’ve ever met.” He smiled. “You’ve got this.”