A Weekend with Her Fake Fiancé

by Traci Douglass

  “I’m so glad you both made it to the conference,” Ellen said, smiling at Carmen and Priya in turn on either side of her. “And it’s so nice to meet your significant others as well. How long have you and your fiancé been dating, Carmen?”

  “Not long, Ms. Landon,” Carmen said, avoiding Priya’s hawklike gaze from the other side of Ellen. “We’ve been seeing each other for a few months.”

  “Yes, it happened so fast,” Priya said, narrowing her gaze on Carmen. “Took us all by surprise.”

  “Sure did,” Lance said from across the table, elbowing Zac in the arm. “Man, if I’d known you two were hot and heavy after the Christmas party I would’ve been all over that.”

  “That’s exactly why we didn’t tell you,” Zac said, giving his friend a flat stare.

  “That’s wonderful. I do love a whirlwind romance. And, please, call me Ellen,” the older woman said, seemingly oblivious to the tension around the table. “Congratulations on your engagement, Carmen. Such an exciting time in life. I remember when Liz and I were planning our wedding. So much to do...so little time. And you, Priya. How long have you and Lance been together?”

  “Almost a year.” Priya kept her gaze steady on Carmen. “We’re taking our time with things—not rushing. I prefer to plan, so I don’t miss anything important. It must be hard for you, Carmen, having it sprung on you like that. I always thought we were alike when it came to organization. I mean, there’s so much to do...so many details.”

  Forcing the knots in her stomach to ease, Carmen plastered on her best smile. “Yes, you’re right. I do like to plan everything out. But love is what it is.”

  “Hmm...” Suspicion gleamed in Priya’s dark eyes. “What date have you set for the wedding?”

  “Oh, we haven’t really gotten that far yet. Just enjoying the moment for now.”

  “Sure...” Priya sounded completely unconvinced. She exchanged a quick glance with Lance, then looked back at Carmen. “What about a dress? Flowers? Venue? You should start planning all that before you even set a date. What’s Zac’s favorite color?”

  Carmen’s mind raced through the facts on the sheet he’d given her. “Blue.”

  “Favorite food?”

  “Anything Mexican.”

  “Favorite movie?”

  “Die Hard.”

  Carmen’s stomach clenched. This was worse than the lightning round on her mother’s favorite TV game show. She swallowed hard against the lump of stress in her throat. Beneath the table Zac took her hand for moral support.

  “What does his favorite movie have to do with our wedding?”

  “Nothing,” Priya said, giving her a sly smile. “Just asking.”

  “How are the suites?”

  Ellen switched subject and Carmen couldn’t have been more relieved.

  “Ours is beautiful.”

  “Our room is gorgeous, thanks. This whole resort is amazing—don’t you think, doux-doux?” Carmen gave Zac’s hand a squeeze.

  “Yes, gorgeous,” Zac said, his gaze locked on her. “Very lovely indeed.”

  A fresh wave of heat danced over her skin, this time nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the man beside her—which was bad. Very, very bad.

  She was here to impress Ellen Landon, not to flirt with Zac.

  “Mr. Taylor?” Ellen said. “You’re a paramedic?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He sipped his Scotch. “Best EMT in Anchorage. And please call me Zac.”

  “Zac, then.” The older woman nodded. “I bet you could swap some stories with my wife. She’s always telling me horror stories from her shifts in the ER.”

  “I’m sure I could,” he said, shifting his attention to Liz. “Do you work at a large facility?”

  Grateful to have the spotlight off her, Carmen took a deep breath and smoothed her hand down the front of her simple black dress. It was far from revealing, even with its thin straps that left her shoulders bare. But with the sizzling looks Zac kept giving her tonight she felt as if he could see right through it.

  Talk about making a girl feel like the belle of the ball.

  She tried not to read too much into it, though. He was probably just pulling from his usual bag of tricks to get through this weekend.

  Thankfully, a server arrived with the first course of their catered gourmet meal—zucchini carpaccio with salt-broiled shrimp—and saved her from a further round of Twenty Questions from Priya.

  As they ate, Ellen turned the conversation to business.

  “Both your résumés are quite accomplished and interesting,” Ellen said. “But it was the presentations each of you submitted for the direction you’d like to take the clinic in for the future that I found most intriguing.” She ate a bite of her salad before continuing. “They were the reason each of you were chosen as finalists for the position. In the end, however, there’s only one position available. It’s all we can allow for in the budget right now. So I’d like you each to talk more about your plans for the training program. Priya, why don’t you start?”

  “My concentration would be on preventing gestational diabetes and hyperactive disorders with screening and integrative management in early pregnancy. In my experience, the pathogenesis of these conditions is multifactorial, and includes lifestyle factors such as nutrition, stress level and stress management resources, and physical activity...”

  As her colleague discussed her ideas for the new California clinic, Carmen nibbled on her salad. She’d barely taken more than a few bites, though, before Zac shifted in his seat and his thigh brushed against hers. Zings of fresh electricity jolted through her system and memories of them in the suite after her bath, with her in just a robe and him naked from the waist up, filled her head before she could stop them.

  “And you, Carmen?” Ellen asked. “Can you talk about your training plans, please?”

  Focus, girl. Focus.

  “Sure, yes,” Carmen said.

  She gave herself a firm mental warning to stay out of Smutty Land where Zac was concerned. It was time to dazzle with her amazing midwifery ideas, not dream about tackling Zac into bed and having her wicked way with him.

  “My main focus would be on providing a framework to assist midwives in developing a consistent approach to screening for perinatal mood and anxiety disorders. I’d like to develop brief interventions and strategies for referral, response to emergent situations, and a follow-up to ensure continuity of care.”

  “Both of those ideas are excellent,” Ellen said. “My plan is to have whoever takes over the management of the midwife staff at the clinic helping to design and implement the new training courses you discussed, Carmen, and also to develop an innovative screening and prevention planning program aiming to reduce the incidence and severity of the conditions you mentioned, Priya.”

  “I’ve been reading up on those conditions myself,” Carmen said, congratulating herself on sounding competent and professional, instead of showing the mass of quivering nerves she felt inside.

  She didn’t even feel bad about elbowing her way into Priya’s topic. This was, after all, a competition—even if they were friends. She wanted to show Ellen that by hiring her she’d get someone knowledgeable on both topics.

  “The articles I’ve read suggest including standardized screenings and prevention programs based on a patient’s risk level, then incorporating medical management, education and lifestyle interventions. Through my own research I’ve identified at least three evidence-based prevention strategies for lowering patient risk of gestational diabetes and/or hypertensive disorders. I look forward to presenting you both with a detailed, comprehensive outline at my final interview.”

  Not to be outshone, Priya launched into a spiel on midwife management of pelvic organ prolapse across a patient’s lifespan. By the time she’d finished, their main course had arrived—braised pork with pearl
onions and grapes.

  Zac was being Mr. Charming, as usual, and even if the rest of the weekend went to hell in a handbasket Carmen knew that at least she’d gotten the best out of him in the schmoozing department. Every once in a while, though, she caught him scanning the crowd, as if looking for someone. Which was odd, since neither of them had been to the resort before.

  Then she remembered Lance mentioning Zac had been off his game recently and that he wasn’t seeing anyone at present. Was he looking to hook up with someone here? The man was drop-dead gorgeous, and smart and funny, and any woman would be lucky to have him, and...

  Ugh.

  Thinking about that would get her nowhere but depressed. Which was silly, because she and Zac weren’t really a couple. She had no right to be jealous of him seeing other people—even if he was supposed to pretend to be hers for the weekend.

  So why does the idea of him fawning over someone else bug me so much?

  Maybe because, deep down, she wanted to find someone who’d fawn over her that way?

  Dessert was served at last—slices of hazelnut-and-chocolate meringue cake—and a small band in the corner began to play. Several couples from the surrounding tables headed for the dance floor in front of the stage, and Zac held his hand out to her.

  “Carmen, dance with me.”

  She excused herself and let him lead her to the dance floor. He took her in his arms once they found an open spot amongst the other couples swaying to the music. It all seemed a bit surreal—him looking like he’d just stepped off the cover of a magazine in his fancy tuxedo instead of the bland EMT uniform he usually wore for work.

  Then he pulled her closer and his scent surrounded her—soap, sandalwood, and a hint of vanilla. Delicious. Her first instinct was to bury her face in the side of his neck and inhale deeply. Then she remembered where they were, and who they were, and remained a respectable distance away.

  “Dinner went pretty well, I think,” he said against her temple.

  “Yes. Thank goodness for those dossiers.”

  “Right... Even if mine was on the skimpy side.”

  His legs brushed against hers and the simmering attraction inside her boiled higher.

  “I memorized yours, just in case,” he said.

  She laughed. “Okay. When’s my birthday?”

  “August twelfth.”

  “Favorite song?”

  He tilted his head slightly and smiled. “This one, as a matter of fact. ‘The Way You Look Tonight.’ Though you prefer the Michael Bublé version. Why do you think I asked you to dance?”

  “Smooth.” She rested her forehead against his chest so he wouldn’t see how much he’d touched her heart. “Favorite color?”

  “Purple. Lavender, to be exact.”

  “Middle name?”

  “Ramona. After your mother.”

  “Wow. You are good.”

  “That’s what all the ladies say,” he joked.

  She leaned back and smacked his arm. “Thanks for the reminder.”

  That was when she noticed him nodding to an elderly African-American gentleman with white hair, standing near the service entrance.

  “Who is that?” Carmen asked, curious.

  “Dustin—the night concierge. I met him earlier, while you were running around the resort in your robe.”

  “I was not running around in my robe.” Carmen gave him a look, biting back a smile at the teasing look in his eyes, happier than she cared to admit about having his full attention back on her. “I had to deal with that call about my patient. Everything’s fine there, by the way.”

  “Never doubted it for a minute.”

  He chuckled, the deep, rich sound reverberating through her like honey.

  “Even if you were working in your robe.”

  “What is it with you and my robe?” She shook her head and grinned. “What difference does it make anyway? They couldn’t see me. As long as the patient was treated properly, that’s all that matters.”

  “Hmm...” He steered them into a quieter corner of the dance floor and bent slightly to put his mouth near her ear. “Well, all I can say is I’m glad none of the other men from Anchorage Mercy can see you here tonight. Because you’re beautiful, Carmen, and I don’t want to share.”

  * * *

  Zac held Carmen closer than was probably wise as they swayed to the music in the shadows, deep in the crowd and yet far away from the prying eyes of the rest of their table.

  Honestly, at that moment Carmen could have got any man to do whatever she wanted. That dress of hers should be illegal in all fifty states. The black silky material clung to her curves enough to hint at the glory beneath without giving anything away. Tiny straps over her shoulders led to a V-shaped neckline that revealed just a tantalizing hint of her perfect cleavage. The skirt fell to mid-thigh, showing enough shapely leg to make him picture everything underneath.

  She wore her hair up tonight, although a few of her curls had managed to escape and dangle around her face and throat, and her remarkable green-gold eyes sparkled with intelligence and determination. She was a woman to be reckoned with, and so lovely it almost hurt to look at her.

  “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

  “You did—thank you.” She beamed up at him and smoothed her hand down his tux-covered chest. “You look pretty spectacular yourself.”

  He smiled. This felt good—right—being here with her like this. If things had been different—if he’d been a different man, a better man—he’d have asked her to be his, and not just for the weekend either. But he was who he was, and he had a past she knew nothing about.

  He managed to mumble, “Thanks.”

  The band finished the song and began another—one of his favorites this time. “Unforgettable” by Nat King Cole. He kept reminding himself that this was all for show, but it was getting harder to remember as they rocked gently on the dance floor. He couldn’t help pulling her a bit closer, until she rested her head on his chest and the sweet jasmine fragrance of her hair tickled his nose.

  “I like dancing with you,” he said. Lame, considering he’d like to do a lot more than just dance with her, but it would have to do.

  “I like dancing with you too,” she whispered. “This is nice.”

  “Nice” didn’t begin to cover what he felt, holding her in his arms. He wanted to pick her up and carry her back to their room, make love to her all night long, but unfortunately after the song ended, reality returned. The couples around them began to leave the dance floor and Zac forced himself to step back, away from temptation.

  “We should...uh...probably get back to the table, so you can dazzle your new bosses some more.”

  Carmen sighed and nodded, frowning down at her shoes. “Yes, we probably should.”

  By the time they weaved their way back to the table it was just Ellen and Liz there, discussing their favorite vacation spots around the world. Growing up, Zac had traveled extensively with his father, to visit all of his hotel and resort holdings. He’d never thought it would come in handy, but if it helped win Carmen her dream job he’d add what he could to the conversation.

  “Where are Priya and Lance?” Carmen asked as she took her seat.

  “Oh, Priya wasn’t feeling well all of a sudden,” Ellen said. “Lance took her to the restroom. I do hope she’s all right.”

  “Maybe I should go check on her,” Carmen said.

  Before she could get up, however, Lance and Priya returned, to take their seats once more. Priya looked a little pale, and Lance didn’t appear much better.

  “Everything all right?” Carmen asked.

  “Yes, fine. Thanks.” Priya kept ahold of Lance’s hand. “What are we discussing?”

  “Vacation destinations,” Liz said.

  “Awesome,” Lance said. “Anyone ever been to Italy?�
�

  “I have,” Zac said. “Florence is one of my favorite places on earth—other than Barcelona.”

  “What about you, Carmen?” Priya asked. “Travel much?”

  “Not really. Unless you count moving my family here from Trinidad after nursing school,” she said, crossing her legs toward Zac and giving him another glimpse of those gorgeous legs. “I was always too busy working to go on vacation.”

  “Well, maybe you can plan a nice trip for your honeymoon,” Ellen suggested. “Liz and I went to South America on ours. Rio, Costa Rica, Belize... Beautiful area.”

  “Yes, that would be nice,” Carmen said. She exchanged a glance with Zac.

  A buzz of conversation had started near the entrance to the banquet room and suddenly Zac caught sight of his parents entering. Damn. Time to leave.

  He stood and helped a surprised Carmen to her feet. “We should go back to our room,” he said, pushing to his feet. “Early start for you tomorrow. You need to get your rest. Ellen and Liz—it was a pleasure meeting you both, and thank you so much for everything this weekend.”

  Ellen stood as well and shook his hand. “Glad you’re enjoying it, Zac. Be sure to take advantage of some of the amenities while you’re here, since we’ll be keeping Carmen busy for the next few days.”

  “I’ll do that. I wouldn’t want to distract her with such an important job on the line.” Zac flashed them his most charming smile and then he slipped his arm around Carmen’s shoulders and tugged her into his side, kissing the top of her head while keeping an eye on the exit. “Ready, darling?”

  Carmen gave him a confused look. “What’s going—”

  He kissed her soundly, cutting her off. By the time he lifted his head she was blushing, he was breathless, and everyone at the table was watching them with a knowing gleam in their eye.

  “You can stay here if you want,” he said at last, a bit stunned himself by the heat of their kiss. “I just really want to go back to our room.”

  “I bet you do,” Lance whispered slyly.