A Weekend with Her Fake Fiancé

by Traci Douglass

  But now he needed to stick to their original plan. Play his part and keep his hands to himself from here on out. He’d opened up a bit to Carmen tonight, but that would be all. It didn’t matter that she was full of surprises—like the way she’d run around the hotel in nothing but a robe... Like the way she’d felt against him as they’d danced... Like the way she’d responded so passionately to his kiss.

  Forget about the fact that he wanted to know what else she might do. Or say. Or if he could make her moan again like he had that night they’d spent together.

  Damn.

  If he wasn’t careful he might lose more than his head when he was with Carmen, and that scared him most of all. Even months ago, at the party, his mind buzzing with alcohol and his blood burning with desire, he’d had an inkling that she was pretty perfect. Down-to-earth, straightforward, simple. Real. Everything he secretly craved.

  Honestly, he was tired of superficial flings. He was tired of playing the player. He wanted more. Even though he believed deep down inside that he’d never get more. He came from bad stock. Stock that didn’t measure up. Stock that couldn’t be faithful if its life depended on it.

  Maybe he hadn’t slept with anyone since Carmen after that holiday party. And, yes, perhaps that did qualify as being monogamous. But it wasn’t really a conscious choice he’d made. It was a happy accident. It didn’t matter that she seemed to be the only woman he craved now. That wasn’t a sign of there being something more between him and Carmen. It certainly didn’t mean he’d somehow fallen for her, did it?

  His heart pounded as he remembered the way his nerves had tingled from her touch, the sweet, soft sound of her moans, the dreamy glazed look in her eyes after their kiss.

  Oh, God.

  The realization struck him like a brick upside the head. He needed to be on guard even more this weekend. Because in some ways Carmen could hurt him far worse than his father ever had.

  He cared about her—about what she thought and felt.

  His father had killed any good feelings Zac had had toward him the day he’d admitted his infidelity and wounded Zac’s mother to the core. Why she’d stayed married to him after that was a mystery to him, even though it had proved her loyalties to Zac.

  But if she’d been willing to stay, then he’d had to go. He hadn’t been able to stand to be in the same room with the man, let alone listen to more of his apologies and excuses.

  He’d grown up with people constantly comparing him to his father, saying how alike they were, how they were cut from the same cloth. For years the young Zac had considered it a compliment. Hell, he’d aspired to be just like his old man. Until the day news of his father’s affair had broken in the tabloids and he’d been forced to tell the truth to his wife and son.

  Zac’s world had gone from heaven to hell in the span of a few hours. This man, his father, a guy he’d loved and practically worshipped, wasn’t the paragon Zac had held him up to be. Turned out he was human after all—and a horrible human at that. Why else would his father have been so selfish, so deceitful, ripping his close-knit family apart and shattering the very people he’d claimed to care for most in the world?

  No. Love got you nothing but pain and heartache. Best to steer well clear of all of it.

  They’d reached the stream again and Zac took Carmen’s hand to help her across. Her skin felt silky and smooth against his and he battled a fresh wave of desire.

  But he wasn’t his father. He wouldn’t take what he wanted just because he could. He let her go immediately they reached the other side. And increased his pace back toward the hotel—at least until she stopped him in his tracks.

  She called from behind him, “Why did you kiss me?”

  Zac hesitated and closed his eyes, then swiveled to face her. “Is this a trick question?”

  “No. But you’re hiding something, Zac Taylor.” She stood before him, gaze narrowed, as the lights from the resort glowed brighter around her. “I don’t know what it is, but I’m going to find out—I promise you that. You keep too many secrets. It’s not good for a man.”

  With that, she took off ahead of him, back up the path and into the hotel, leaving Zac to stare after her and wonder how the hell he was ever going to get out of this weekend unscathed.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BRIGHT AND EARLY the next morning, Carmen sat in her first seminar of the day, coffee in hand. The room was packed with people, including Ellen and Liz, who were sitting in the front, and Priya, who was in the chair next to Carmen’s.

  “Reducing cesareans is a priority for healthcare and professional organizations. And labor dystocia is the leading cause of cesareans. Delaying hospital admission until active labor is established is one evidence-based method to decrease labor dystocia diagnoses. Evidence is lacking on how best to accomplish this, but several interventions have been studied, including admission algorithms and patient and staff education. This presentation will show the results of one quality improvement project whose aim was to reduce early labor admissions and support physiologic birth through implementing evidence-based tools, and thereby decrease the nulliparous term singleton vertex cesarean rate...”

  The nurse practitioner giving the talk droned on, and while Carmen found the topic interesting and informative she feared there wasn’t enough caffeine in the world to keep her awake for the next two hours. After those late-night shenanigans with Zac she’d not slept well last night, tossing and turning and replaying that stupid kiss they’d shared over and over in her head.

  What the hell had she been thinking, kissing him back?

  It had been stupid. It had been wrong. It had been incredibly tempting.

  Ugh. She had no business making out with Zac when it would never go anywhere—because it couldn’t go anywhere. They were both established in their lives. She had her career track and he had his. Yes, they’d had sex once. Yes, it had been amazing. No, it wouldn’t happen again. Even if this would be the perfect time for one last hurrah, so to speak.

  You’re leaving. He’s available. The two of you have that whole suite to yourselves...

  “So, what did you and Zac do after you left the dinner last night?” Priya whispered from beside her at the table. “Lance and I stopped by your suite, but no one answered.”

  “We went for a walk,” Carmen said, fiddling with the notepad she’d brought with her, trying to concentrate on the speaker again. “We needed to burn off some excess energy.”

  “Right!” Priya chuckled. “I saw how the two of you were dancing together. I did doubt your engagement, but there’s no doubting you two are hot for each other.”

  Heat prickled Carmen’s cheeks as she scribbled unintelligible notes with her pen. “Sorry, I’m trying to hear this.”

  Priya gave her a side-glance and shook her head. “Right...”

  “We’ve developed several novel tools, including an early labor triage guide, labor support checklist and early labor walking path. The triage algorithm reduced early labor admission from forty-one percent to twenty-five percent, and physiologic birth increased by two percent during the intervention. Patient experience satisfaction rates were highly positive, exceeding ninety-eight percent. The NTSV cesarean rate reduced slightly, from twenty-two percent to twenty-one percent, during this eight-week project,” the presenter was saying.

  Carmen did her best to catch up. And by the time she’d taken copious notes and followed along with an opportunity to explore her own clinical setting for gaps in practice and barriers to implementation, considering how to implement the new information at Anchorage Mercy, the time had passed quickly. There was a question-and-answer session at the end, followed by a break before the next session.

  Priya made a beeline for Ellen and Liz, but Carmen held back a moment, wanting to collect her thoughts before approaching her potential new employers again. Besides, she needed to use the restroom.

 
She walked out of the bathroom to find Zac flagging her down. “Hey, what’s up?” she asked as he approached.

  “Do you have another seminar to get to right away?”

  Carmen checked her watch. “Not for another twenty minutes. What do you need?”

  “An extra set of hands.” He took her by the elbow and guided her to the elevators. “I’ve got a friend who needs an I&D in the suite and I could use someone to help with the procedure.”

  “An incision and drainage?” She wrinkled her nose as the elevator dinged and Zac tugged her on board. “Here? Do you have the equipment to do that? Maybe your friend should go to the hospital to have it checked out.”

  “It’s Dustin—the concierge you saw last night. He refuses to go. Plus, he’s diabetic.” Zac punched the button for their floor.

  “And you tell me I work too hard.” She snorted. “So how is it that you class Dustin as a friend? You only met him yesterday.”

  Zac stared down at his shoes. “It’s a long story.”

  “Uh-huh.” Carmen crossed her arms and tapped her toe against the carpet. “I’ve got a long break.”

  “Let’s just say that it’s not my first time here at the Arctic Star Resort.” The elevator dinged and he gestured for her to exit first. “I’ve been here before.”

  “Really?” She looked around at all the opulence. He might be the best EMT in Anchorage, but he still lived on a paramedic’s salary. “When?”

  “Twelve years ago.”

  He unlocked the door to their suite and nudged her inside before she could ask any more questions. The fact that the time period was the same as that of his estrangement from his family wasn’t lost on her, though. She filed that information away for future reference.

  “Carmen Sanchez, this is Dustin Lewis. Carmen and I work together in Anchorage. She’s a midwife.”

  “Ah, nice to meet you Ms. Sanchez,” Dustin said, giving her a little bow and a smile. “You must be here for the conference, then.”

  “I am.” She set her tote bag aside. “And please, call me Carmen.”

  “Okay.” Zac grabbed his EMT pack from the bedroom, then returned to set things out on a table: a disposable scalpel, gauze, gloves, sterile field, cotton balls and antiseptic, even a syringe and lidocaine. “Dustin, have a seat here at the table, please. Carmen’s going to help me get that cut on your arm cleaned and dressed.”

  Dustin tried to wave him off. “Don’t worry about it, boy. Told you I’m fine.”

  “That cut is not fine. When you came up to see me this morning and I looked at it I could clearly see it’s well on its way to being infected. If you don’t nip it in the bud now it could spread to your bloodstream or turn into gangrene, neither of which are pleasant. Trust me, you want me to take care of it for you now. After we get it cleaned and dressed, maybe Carmen can write you a script for some antibiotics as well, just to be on the safe side. Do you have any allergies?”

  “No. No allergies.”

  Grumbling, Dustin took a seat and rolled up the sleeve of his dress shirt. Carmen saw the bandage around his lower forearm and had to agree with Zac. Dried blood caked the bandage and the skin around the gauze was red and inflamed.

  “Yes, I can write a script. I always bring supplies with me, just in case. Something Zac and I have in common. Let me wash my hands, then I’ll get the patient ready for you.”

  She scrubbed down in the kitchenette sink with the antibacterial soap packet Zac gave her, then put on a pair of gloves and laid out an absorbent pad beneath Dustin’s injured arm. She cut away the soiled bandages. Yep. That cut was infected, all right. She poured antiseptic on a cotton ball and prepared to clean the wound as best she could for Zac, prior to the incision.

  “Sorry, but this might hurt a bit.”

  “Nah. Don’t feel much anymore, with the nerve damage from my diabetes,” Dustin said, giving a dismissive wave with his other hand.

  “I suspect that’s why we’re in this situation now,” Zac said to Carmen, his tone low, for her ears only.

  “Probably.” She cleaned the cut and tossed the cotton balls away in the small red plastic portable biohazard bin from Zac’s pack. “All right, Dustin—Zac, ready when you are.”

  “I know you said you don’t feel much,” Zac said, drawing lidocaine from the small vial into the syringe, then flicking it a few times with his finger to get any air bubbles out. “But this will numb the area just in case, okay?”

  “Whatever, boy,” Dustin said, looking the other way. “Just hurry up and get it over with. You know I don’t like needles.”

  Zac injected the lidocaine around the cut, then scrubbed down himself before putting on fresh gloves and opening the sterile scalpel packet. “Okay. I’m going to drain the wound now. You should feel better after this, Dustin.”

  The procedure only took a few minutes, and soon Carmen was applying new gauze pads and bandages to Dustin’s forearm while Zac finished cleaning up the area. Once the wound was bandaged, Carmen scrubbed her hands and disposed of her gloves, then went into the bedroom to dig her prescription pad out of her bag. She returned to find Zac and Dustin talking in the living room.

  “Keep the wound clean and dry and I’ll check it again for you tomorrow, to make sure we got all the infection out,” Zac said. “You should go see your doctor in town as soon as possible. Or if not him then the traveling physician who comes to the resort, the next time he’s here.”

  “Looks aren’t the only thing you got from your daddy, boy. Got his bossiness too,” Dustin said, rolling his shirtsleeve back down over the bandage. “But thank you for your help. And you too, Carmen.” The older man grinned. “Never did see such a pretty nurse.”

  “Midwife,” Carmen corrected him, then laughed as she handed him a script for antibiotics. “Make sure you take these with food. You knew Zac’s family well, then?”

  Zac gave them both a pointed look that all but screamed Shut up.

  Dustin winked at her. “I did. I do. But I should go. I hope you both enjoy your stay at the Arctic Star Resort.”

  “We will,” Carmen said, following him to the door while Zac disappeared into the bedroom.

  Her curiosity about his family was growing, given that Dustin knew them, but she’d hesitated to ask with Zac right there. Having him leave for a moment gave her an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.

  She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe and lowered her voice. “Listen, I’m not trying to pry, but Zac and I are friends and I’ve noticed that talking about his family really bothers him. In fact, I think being here, period, bothers him. Can you tell me why that is?”

  Dustin watched her closely for a second, then glanced over at the bedroom door before answering in a whisper. “I really don’t think it’s my place to say anything about Zac’s personal life. Those are questions you should ask him. I will confirm, though, that this place holds a lot of memories for him. Some good, some not so great. But, again, it’s not my place to discuss them with you. Sorry.”

  Carmen sighed, shoulders slumped. Neither she nor Zac had slept well last night. He’d insisted she take the bedroom, and he’d taken the oversized sofa in the living room. They’d both been tired, after the busy day and their walk to the animal reserve, but judging by the number of times she’d heard him up he’d not fared any better than she had sleep-wise.

  She’d asked Zac to come this weekend, and now he looked more stressed than she’d ever seen him. Feeling responsible for that, because of dredging up his past, she wanted to do something nice for him. There was no formal dinner tonight, so they had the evening free.

  “I’d like to do something nice for Zac tonight. I’ve not been to this area before, so I’m not sure what’s around besides the resort.” She tilted her head slightly to catch Dustin’s gaze. “You know him better than I do. What would he like?”

  Dustin regarded her for a m
oment, then said, “Bowling.”

  “Bowling?” She raised a brow. That wasn’t what she’d expected.

  “He likes to bowl. Used to be pretty good at it too.” Dustin crossed his arms, careful to avoid messing up his bandage. “There’s an alley in the village not far from here. It’s the weekend, so there’s probably leagues in there tonight, but if you call ahead they’ll take a reservation. I can handle that for you, if you like.”

  “Oh, yes, please.”

  Back home in Trinidad, Carmen had used to take Clara bowling at the alley down from their apartment on the nights when their mother had had to work late. It had been light and busy and it had made them feel safer than staying home alone in the evenings. Plus, there’d been a little greasy spoon diner inside, and the owner would slip them free food from time to time. Returning to a bowling alley now, with Zac, would be a nice change of pace. And if it was something he enjoyed, all the better.

  “Thanks, Dustin.”

  “My pleasure. Enjoy your day. And thanks again for helping with my wound.”

  He left the room and Carmen checked her watch again. “Shoot. I need to get back downstairs for my next seminar,” Carmen called out to Zac as she rushed to grab her tote bag from the floor, where she’d set it earlier. “Don’t make any plans tonight. I’ve got something in mind for us.”

  “Yeah?” Zac looked at her as he came out of the bedroom. “What’s that?”

  “A secret. One of my own this time.” She grinned and headed for the door.

  “Great—just what we need. More secrets.”

  His deep, rich laugh followed her out the door and down the hall to the elevators.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur of medical information, an informal lunch interview with Ellen and more seminars with Priya. Carmen’s brain ached by the time she returned to the suite at around five, to find Zac working on his computer, but she was looking forward to the night ahead.

  “Hey,” she said, coming through the door and dumping her heavy tote on a chair in the corner. “What’s going on?”