Charade (A Fake Fiancée Romance) (Pretense and Promises Book 1)

by Jade C. Jamison

  The man went on and on, detailing some of his plans, and Erica didn’t have to try to tune him out. She was still furious over Brock’s stolen kiss. In fact, she was halfway tempted right this second to blow his cover and expose their ruse…but then she’d be able to kiss her new job away. She was still stuck in research, although Brock had promised their announcement would change that. Time would tell.

  Her ire continued to grow as she realized something else: she could still feel his lips on hers, as if they’d been coated with cinnamon or peppermint. The nerves of that skin felt tingly and, as she imagined his tongue in her mouth, she licked her bottom lip, forcing herself not to smile.

  Wow. Deep down, she knew she wanted more. Much more.

  She could have kissed Brock Ford all night long and not grown tired of it.

  When she realized Brady was continuing to talk, she forced herself to pay attention. “It does our hearts good to know that each of our sons has found someone to spend his life with. I know you all balked at the idea at first, but I think you’ve all come around. Love is what makes the world go around, boys, and when you find the woman who lights your fire, don’t let her go. It’s her—and your family—that will fuel your desire to work, long after your clients have worn you out and you’ve lost joy and passion for what you do.”

  Erica felt her heart sink a little. What a pessimistic way to look at life—and at the job she’d been working so hard to get. They wouldn’t even let her do the job she’d gone to school for, and here was Brady Ford lecturing his offspring to get a wife so they’d work a job it sounded like they’d grow to hate.

  No wonder his youngest son decided he had to move into the realm of deception.

  It was then that she heard her name. The elder Mr. Ford had been speaking to her and she’d completely missed it. “I’m sorry, sir. What was that again?”

  “I asked if you like what you’re doing back at the office.”

  She had to be careful here…didn’t want to upset the boss. “Well, I’m doing research—mainly looking for precedent in past tort cases. I work under Bret. And I realize it’s a necessary evil.”

  “I hope he appreciates you. Research can never be underestimated.”

  “Actually, dad…Bret, I had wanted to talk with you about that.”

  Erica had to suppress a laugh, because she knew exactly what Brock was doing. Like a true litigator, he was saying something the jury wasn’t supposed to hear, but even if he was overruled, the information was still out there. Erica suspected his father would want to know what he had to say, even if Bret asked to discuss it later.

  Which he did. “Why don’t we leave the office at the office? Tonight is all about dad.”

  “Yes, and it’s still my firm until I sign it over.” His tone alone made everyone at the table feel as though they’d been reprimanded. Then his eyes shifted to Brock. “You were saying?”

  “Erica’s talent is being wasted on research we could have a paralegal doing. No offense to my brothers, but if I’d been part of their interview committee, I wouldn’t have squandered Erica’s talents like they are. We need to test her skills in civil rights law. That’s the kind of thing she’s interested in.”

  “Hmm.” Brady looked over at Bret, and Erica knew that meant he regarded his oldest son as his right-hand man. Maybe that was why Bret was literally sitting in that position at the table. “Should we maybe have her shadow Seng?”

  Brock intervened, however. “Actually…I would like to train her myself.”

  Bret scoffed. “You’re the farthest thing there is from civil rights law.”

  “No matter what her focus is, she needs to learn how to construct an ironclad argument. She needs to learn to negotiate. I’ve got that in the bag.”

  Brandon, raising his voice to be heard from the other end of the table, said, “I don’t think she should work directly with you because it smacks of nepotism.”

  Brock let out a hearty chuckle. “That’s rich, Bran. Didn’t you shadow dad for a few months fresh out of law school? If that’s not nepotism, I don’t know what is.”

  The eldest Ford’s hand landed on the table—it wasn’t so much a slap as it was a jostle, just enough to get everyone’s attention. “Brock is serious about law. And he’s right. Consider it done.” He looked over at Erica and she could see by the way his boys obeyed that he was viewed as stern and strict, but his brown eyes were kind and warm as he viewed her. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to deserve it, but she got the feeling that she and Brady Ford would get along famously. Now if she could get his youngest son to keep his hands and lips to himself, this charade might be a piece of cake.

  * * *

  They were out in traffic and hadn’t spoken while Brock navigated the traffic lights. In spite of the fact that it was later in the evening, there were still plenty of cars on the road. New York might have been the city that never slept, but Denver didn’t snooze, either. It just got darker—but at least there was no chance of traffic jams this time of the evening.

  Erica could still feel Brock’s lips on hers, and that pissed her off. This man whom she should despise shouldn’t have been taking up so much real estate in her brain. “I suppose I should thank you for getting me out of research.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  God, his voice dripped with cockiness. That, too, pissed her off.

  And turned her on at the same time.

  Which made her all the angrier.

  “But I also need to ask you why the hell you kissed me? That wasn’t part of the bargain, Brock.”

  As the car whirred down the well-lit street, the lights above them kept the inside of the vehicle bright enough that she could see the smirk on his face. Dammit. She was drawn to and repulsed by him at the same time. Talk about confusing. “You seemed to have liked it.”

  “Seriously, Brock. You can’t do that. If this charade can’t be pulled off without your mitts all over me, maybe we need to break off the engagement right now. After all, didn’t you get what you wanted?”

  “Look, I know the kiss wasn’t part of the bargain—but my brothers weren’t buying it. They were onto me from the get go, and they told me as much. So, yeah, I can argue it all I want, but I had to convince them. And, if nothing else, I had to convince my parents, and kissing you publicly was the easiest way I could think of. That way, when Bret and Brandon go whining to my dad about how I shouldn’t be given my fair share of controlling interest in the firm, he can tell them to zip it because I’m engaged.”

  Erica hated to admit it had probably worked. “Fine. But you could at least apologize. You didn’t even ask my permission.”

  He glanced over at her before returning his eyes to the road. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “No.” He wasn’t going to say sorry, was he? Her eyes were glowering but she clamped her jaw shut, reminding herself that, at least, she was going to get to really practice law soon—probably as soon as tomorrow.

  “My parents like you. Dad really took a shine to you.” Why that made Erica feel warm and squishy, she didn’t know, because it wasn’t like these people were truly going to be in-laws. It was all a sham, and she’d do well to remember that. “It’s going to break their hearts when we call off our engagement.” Brock merged onto the freeway like a Nascar driver—in complete control but fast as hell.

  She’d never admit his car made him hotter…but she also suspected he already knew it.

  “But it has to be done. They put me in this situation, and I’m doing what I have to do.”

  As Brock drove south, they were bathed more in darkness than they had been downtown, and Erica was alone with her thoughts. At first, she’d maybe felt a little sympathy that Brock was going to be shut out of the family fortune if he wasn’t married, but now it didn’t seem quite like that. No…he just wouldn’t have as much power as he’d wanted. And, to get it, he was willing to deceive everyone he said he loved. This guy, her supposed fiancé, was all about the money and power, and sh
e suspected he would do anything for both.

  Those qualities made Brock Andrew Ford, Attorney at Law, dangerous—and the epitome of the kind of man Erica would never want. So why the hell did this guy turn her on so much?

  * * *

  Although they’d chatted some, the drive home was mostly spent in silence. And, thanks to picking her up earlier in the evening, Brock didn’t even need to ask her for directions to her place.

  So it was dead quiet in the car for most of the trip.

  It had to be because she was still angry at him for the kiss. He’d known she’d be upset, but maybe she was the type of woman to carry a grudge and be angry for days. Well, she could throw her little silent treatment tantrum. It wasn’t like he was planning on marrying her in reality anyway.

  When he pulled into a parking space in the quiet lot, he said, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

  Erica already had her purse in hand, her fingers on the door handle. “Don’t bother.”

  “I insist.” Yes, she was probably safe, but if he’d intended on merely dropping her off, he would have pulled the car to the front of the building. Real fiancée or not, it was in his best interest to keep her safe.

  But she was going to have to get used to him, like it or not.

  She was too quick for him to open the door for her and let her out, but he was walking beside her when he pointed the key fob behind him to lock the car. And they could have walked the entire distance in silence, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. “I know you’re angry, Erica.” She started to shake her head. “There’s no sense in denying it. I’m sorry, okay?” As they walked under a street light, he thought he saw her features soften a bit. “I did what I had to do—and the kiss sealed the deal.”

  Frowning, she said, “Fine. Apology accepted. But don’t do it again.”

  “I make no promises.” She glared at him as they approached the front doors of the complex.

  “Good night, Brock.” The disdain with which his name dripped from her mouth gave him chills.

  And made him want to possess her.

  “What—you’re not inviting me up? Isn’t that what engaged people do?”

  Her hand on the door, she turned, her words full of venom. “You can kiss my ass.”

  He was still grinning, amused and intrigued, as he walked back to his car, a spring in his step.

  He would have to make Erica Larson his—even though that plan was likely the most dangerous one he’d concocted in a very long time.

  Chapter Six

  BY THE TIME Sunday rolled around, Erica would have thought she’d have news to report to Camilla, but no such luck. Erica was in the basement of her apartment complex, folding the laundry from two different dryers, talking to her best friend through the speaker on her cell phone. Although she was able to tell her all about Brady Ford’s retirement party, the rest of her week had been rather lackluster.

  “So I was sure with all their talk about my talent and not wanting to relegate me to research, Thursday morning I’d be packing up my junk and moving.”

  “Do you want my advice, Erica?” Camilla paused. “Or are you just needing to vent?”

  She let out a long breath of air. “Eh…I don’t know.”

  Her friend chuckled. “Okay, then I’ll give you my opinion and you can take it or leave it.”

  “Okay.”

  “You need to be forceful. Let them have it. They made you a promise and now they’re reneging. You’re the lawyer—isn’t that a breach of contract or something?”

  “Well, in all fairness, Brock has been by my desk a couple of times. He said they were in negotiations about where to locate me.”

  “In negotiations? Like it’s a major peace treaty?”

  Erica thought back to Wednesday night, recalling the rivalry amongst the brothers. Brock was the youngest, a black sheep rebel who stood out because of the work he did and didn’t seem to care about love or affection or good will—but he did want his damn place in the company. Bret and Brandon both seemed to be hell bent on making sure Brock didn’t get a piece of the pie unless he’d met the conditions set forth by their father. “Actually, yes. It very well might be.”

  “Really? That bad?”

  “Yes.” Erica proceeded to tell her friend about how Brock had surprised her with a sensual kiss. Just thinking about it flooded her with emotion, reminding her just how much she’d enjoyed it despite her better judgment. But that secret was going with her to the grave. There was no way she was going to let a soul know just how much her body desired Brock Ford, because her brain knew that falling for him would be setting herself up for heartbreak. A guy like that who wanted to play the field forever? A guy who loved the adrenaline of driving fast and warring in the courtroom? And heaven knew what other things got him off.

  Brock Ford might have been sexy as hell, smelled and tasted delicious, and flipped a few of her switches, but he was not boyfriend material.

  And definitely not a husband.

  Perhaps she was already building her case for the big breakup that would come later.

  “That’s what I would have done.”

  Oh, shit. She was tuning out again, just like she had the other night when Brady had been talking to her. “I’m sorry. What was that?”

  “I said I would have slapped him.”

  “Yes, but that would have blown our cover.” She giggled. “I did think about grinding the heel of my shoe into his foot. But here’s the part that’s really gonna make you roll your eyes.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yeah. He invited himself up to my apartment.”

  “What? What did you say?”

  “No, of course. But I have to tell you…if he’s as good in bed as he is a kisser, we could have had a good time.”

  “Oh, God. You should have.”

  “No way. He’s a player. Not going there. Besides, with this deal, I’m just this side of a hooker anyway.”

  “No! If he’s making you feel that way now—and you haven’t even gotten out of the bargain what you were supposed to—how are you going to feel by the time you’re done?”

  Erica shook her head. “No, Cam. I don’t feel slutty or anything. And no more used now than I did a couple of weeks ago slaving away with no end in sight.” She glanced down at her left hand, now laden with the beautiful ring that was just shy of gaudy, and said, “I forgot to tell you, though. He actually proposed to me in front of his family.”

  “What?!”

  “Yes! He got down on one knee and slid this amazing ring on my finger. He even had the size right. If I’d really been engaged to him, I might have swooned. It’s got to be worth thousands of dollars. I have no clue how much it costs.”

  “What if you lose it?”

  “Actually, he said I could keep it.”

  “Seriously? You should have it appraised.”

  “I’ll wait. If I don’t get out of this what was promised, I might need a little money while I consider my options.” Erica took a deep breath, looking away from the sparkling jewelry on her finger. “It’s been so long since I started working there, I can hardly remember exactly why I chose Ford & Associates over the other two firms who made me offers, but I think it was because they were smaller and so I was sure I had a good chance of being a big fish in a little pond. I’d started doubting it until Brock presented me with this crazy offer. I just want them to get the ball rolling like they promised so I can start living my lawyer dream.”

  “Well, I’d blame that on Brock, the guy who said he’d make it happen in exchange for your acting services. Between his lack of delivering and him thinking he can stick his tongue and dick in you just because you’re playing his fiancée make me think you need to rattle his cage. I mean…he obviously doesn’t respect you like he should. I say you set the record straight tomorrow by demanding what they promised.”

  * * *

  When Erica marched into Ford & Associates on Monday morning, she was on a warpath just as Camilla had fired her up
to be. Sometimes Erica thought maybe Camilla should have been the lawyer because her sense of justice was not only as strong as Erica’s, but Camilla often seemed more prone to action, while Erica preferred to think about it long enough to be sure she was making a sound decision.

  But that was often why she bounced things off her friend—because Cam always gave good advice and she was a great listener.

  So Erica was wearing a black suit from head to toe. At Camilla’s suggestion, she was wearing a pant suit, not one with a skirt. She wanted to come across as an equal rather than a subordinate and playing against gender roles was one way to do that.

  But when she texted Brock on her way in and he told her he wouldn’t be in until nine because he had an out-of-office meeting, she stewed—and then she decided to treat herself to Starbucks. A little sweetness would help her keep her cool until he arrived.

  And it worked. She settled into the mind-numbing research once more, finding it all too easy. Off and on, she could hear Camilla’s voice in her head, and she assured that voice that she would get her say—but she’d have to wait.

  It wasn’t until close to ten that morning that Brock arrived at her little desk tucked in a corner, a place where she hadn’t actually worked since her first month or so in the firm, preferring to spread out on the first-floor conference room table. It was cramped in her cubicle, located amongst lots of other first and second year lawyers, as well as clerks and paralegals. Her space belied her title and salary and thinking about it irritated her to no end. Had Brock arrived any later, he might have had to deal with her wrath.

  When she looked up, he had his classic smirk plastered on his face. His blue eyes were sparkling, his teeth whiter than usual…and she felt her heart leap in her chest, even though her ire should have been bubbling in her throat. She swallowed, trying to figure out what to say next, but his words took her off guard.

  “Do you prefer mountain scenes or something avant garde?”