‘It’s beautiful countryside,’ he said.
‘People drive out here for the day to visit antique shops, art galleries and wineries, inspect beautiful gardens, go horse riding or just to get out to the country. There are hotels and bed and breakfasts for longer stays. And there are some very popular wedding venues. It’s lovely but I wouldn’t want to live here. I’m a city girl myself.’
‘I prefer the city too,’ he said.
‘Wait, I haven’t asked where you live. I should know that.’
‘My apartment is in the Seaport District, a penthouse with awesome views across the harbour. It’s a relatively new area, redeveloped waterfront in South Boston. There are excellent restaurants and facilities and it’s incredibly convenient for the business district and the airport, which makes it great for me.’
‘What’s your apartment like?’
‘Very contemporary, all glass and stainless steel.’ Lonely and empty might be the words he would also use to describe it. But he didn’t want her to feel sorry for him. His life was exactly the way he wanted it to be. ‘I don’t know that you’d like it. It’s nothing like your elegant apartment. I had an interior designer do it for me and I sometimes wonder if she took the “bachelor billionaire” brief too seriously.’
‘I’m sure it’s lovely.’
‘It’s actually quite sterile,’ he said, surprising himself. ‘I don’t know why I live there actually, though it’s already doubled in value. I keep gravitating back to the North End. You may remember it’s a very old part of town.’
‘I haven’t been to Boston since my father died, but I think I remember going there to a restaurant with my grandparents.’
‘When my mother and I were evicted from the big house on Beacon Hill we went to live there with her sister, my Aunt Lily, in her apartment in Little Italy. The apartment was cramped and I had to go to a new high school, but I loved it.’
Eloise nodded thoughtfully. ‘That’s good information. If anyone asks I can maybe say we’re thinking of moving to a house there instead of living in your bachelor apartment.’
‘You’d like the area, I’m sure.’
All the best parts of his life were there. His Aunt Lily, who had given him a home. Tori’s family trattoria and his close friendship with her family. Tori’s bakery too; her spectacular cakes were to Boston’s brides what Eloise’s gowns were to Sydney’s brides.
He could be himself there and judged for who he was and not by the size of his bank balance. So very different from the Boston where he had lived the first sixteen years of his life with his judgemental father whom nobody could please, not even his half-brother, who turned himself inside out in the process of trying. Warm, vibrant Eloise would fit right in in the North End. That she had actually been born in Boston would give her a head start. But she was a Sydney person too, with a thriving business she loved. A move there couldn’t possibly work.
Josh shook his head to clear it of the invidious invasion of his thoughts. This fake fiancé game was messing with his head. He wasn’t marrying Eloise, he wasn’t dating Eloise, and when she found out he’d been hiding the truth about his visit to Sydney and his knowledge of her long-lost twin he wouldn’t be talking to Eloise.
‘Before we get there, I have a final question for you,’ he said.
‘Fire away,’ she said.
‘There’s something I haven’t asked you that I should probably know. Why is a beautiful woman like you without a date for this wedding? Without a real-life fiancé of her own to accompany her? What went wrong with your last guy?’
‘He lied to me about who he really was,’ she said flatly. ‘And that’s unforgivable.’
‘I see,’ he said. He didn’t need to know the details. It just reinforced his earlier thoughts.
They were soon entering the salubrious small town of Bowral, with shops and businesses lining the main road and those intersecting it. ‘We’ve made good time,’ Eloise said. ‘Do you want to stretch your legs? Take a walk, grab a coffee in Bowral, even a bite of lunch, before we head to Silver Trees, which is on the other side of town?’
‘Coffee sounds great,’ he said. ‘And now that you mention it, so does lunch.’
Eloise parked the car on the high street, so she could keep an eye on it, she said. Before she made to get out of the car she turned to him, her expression very serious. ‘The fake engagement starts here. There are likely to be people I know in town for the wedding. Last chance for you to back out.’
‘I’m in,’ he said.
* * *
Even though she was the driver—no one, but no one, got to drive her precious vintage car—Josh insisted on getting out of the car first to come around to her side and open the door for her.
‘I intend to start as I mean to continue as your fiancé,’ he said.
She tensed. Thank heaven he hadn’t said ‘fake fiancé’. These streets could have ears. She would have to force herself to relax and trust him to play his part.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to take her hand as she walked with him towards her favourite Bowral café, which served great coffee and the most delicious pastries baked on the premises. Enfolding hers, his hand felt warm and large and somehow comforting. He was on her side, even for only a very limited time.
She was looking up at him and smiling at something he’d said when she heard her name called out. Eloise turned to see a woman she’d dressed for her wedding two years ago. All must be going well, as she was proudly sporting an advanced baby bump.
‘Eloise, I thought it was you. Are you in town for Becca’s wedding?’ She didn’t pause for an answer. ‘Of course Becca would be wearing one of your gowns. For the second time, that is.’
‘Anna, how lovely to see you.’ They air kissed. ‘And I can see congratulations are in order.’
The other woman smiled. ‘Do you design christening gowns by any chance?’
‘Only for my most special clients,’ she said. ‘Call me and we can chat.’
Eloise kept a special linen bag of offcuts from each wedding. They came in remarkably handy for creating baby outfits, both traditionally styled and contemporary, for christenings and naming ceremonies, made with the fabric from the mother’s wedding dress. She didn’t advertise the service, as there wasn’t much profit in it, but it was an added extra for clients and unique, as far as she knew, to her company.
People boasted about starting their own christening gown family heirlooms. But you had to have bought a wedding gown from Eloise Evans Atelier first.
Anna was not doing a very good job of disguising her interest in the tall, handsome man standing by Eloise’s side.
‘Oh, Anna, this is my fiancé, Josh.’
The words tripped so easily off Eloise’s tongue, thanks to a dint of practising in front of the mirror the previous night after Josh had gone home.
‘Josh, this is Anna, one of my clients who had the most beautiful wedding two years ago.’
‘Fiancé?’ Anna said, sculpted eyebrows raised. ‘But I heard...’ She collected herself. ‘Congratulations. How exciting.’ Her gaze went straight to the ruby engagement ring glinting on Eloise’s left hand. She seemed puzzled by it.
No doubt Anna had seen the horrible hashtags on @lindytheblonde’s social media. And believed every word. Yet here was wedding-hating Eloise Evans engaged to be married. You could almost see the cogs working in the woman’s mind.
‘It’s only very recently that Ellie has done me the honour of agreeing to become my wife,’ Josh said smoothly. He embellished his words by dropping a swift kiss on her cheek.
‘Well, this is wonderful news,’ said Anna.
‘We certainly think so,’ said Josh.
‘Well played,’ Eloise whispered, as Anna walked away. ‘I dare say by the time we arrive at the wedding th
e word will have started to spread.’
‘Piece of cake,’ he said.
He reached for her hand again.
‘And so it begins,’ Eloise said, as if she were murmuring an endearment in her fiancé’s ear.
CHAPTER NINE
AS ELOISE SWUNG her little white sports car up the gravel driveway to her friend’s soon-to-be husband’s family estate, Silver Trees, Josh wondered what the hell he was doing there, ready to embark in full force on the fake fiancé scam. It went against the grain for him to out-and-out lie the way he had to that woman on the main street of Bowral.
And yet when Anna had given Eloise that look of sly surprise when told she was engaged, he’d felt a fierce surge of protectiveness. Obviously the woman was aware of the gossip being fomented by the heinous influencer who was trying to ruin Eloise out of meanness and spite. Perhaps Anna had even been guilty of spreading it. Eloise needed help. If that meant Josh acting the loving fiancé, then so be it. If she needed his help later to exact the kind of deeper revenge he’d outlined—and believed she should—he’d be on call to guide her.
One thing was for sure—Eloise had better restrain him if he found himself anywhere near that @lindytheblonde, as heaven knew what words he might unleash on her.
Eloise did not deserve such meanness. They’d had a rapid getting-to-know-you process over the last few days. He had noted how thoughtful and caring she was towards others. That had led him to wonder who cared for her? It seemed she went home to that stylish apartment by herself every night to lavish love on Daisy, the little stray dog who had been instrumental in his meeting Eloise. But who lavished love on Eloise? He couldn’t offer love, but he could offer his help in stopping this unfair attack on her livelihood. He vowed to do his utmost to be an impeccable fake fiancé.
Eloise pulled over in the designated parking area for the select group of guests who had been invited to stay at the house. She turned off the engine, put the stick shift into gear, and pulled on the quaint, old-fashioned handbrake. It was one cool car. She turned to Josh.
‘About the accommodation,’ she said. He got the impression she had been building up to saying this and now had to let it out.
‘Yes?’ he said.
‘When I told Becca I would, after all, be bringing a plus-one, and my plus-one was actually my fiancé, she was delighted for me and assumed you’d be staying in my room. The thing is, the room I’ve stayed in here a few times before is very small.’
Josh had wondered at the sleeping arrangements but hadn’t felt he could ask for details. She’d just mentioned they would be staying at the house where the wedding would be taking place. ‘I could always book into a hotel in town. I’m sure it’s not too late to get a room somewhere.’
She frowned. ‘That wouldn’t send the right message, would it? Not for a newly engaged couple supposedly madly in love.’
‘No, it wouldn’t. And we need to appear genuine.’
‘I’m glad you think so too. But sharing this room might not be so bad. It must have been originally a child’s room, I think. There’s a single bed and a sofa. I’m happy to sleep on the sofa and give you the bed. Even then it might be a bit of a squash for a man but it’s comfortable enough and—’
Josh put up his hand. ‘I insist on taking the sofa. No further argument.’
It was a relief, in a way, that there was only a single bed. He wouldn’t be taunted by the fact he couldn’t share the bed with her.
‘You’re the one doing me a favour. I insist on you having the bed.’
The interior of the car was thick with unspoken words and denials and a simmering undercurrent of sexual tension centring around the word bed. The mere thought of the enforced intimacy of sharing a bedroom with her was arousing. Eloise in her nightwear, Eloise naked under the shower, Eloise there with him all night long. But he could not think like that.
To keep his equilibrium, he had to act as if they were platonic friends bunking down together to save costs in a backpackers’ hostel. He’d certainly done that back before he started to make serious money. But not with a woman he found so intensely desirable. Not with a woman who was forbidden to him in so many ways. He felt sure she felt the same undeniable physical attraction, and had her own reasons for fighting it.
‘A gentleman would take the sofa,’ he said through gritted teeth.
He hadn’t meant to use the word gentleman in that context, as he had in the fiction they had devised to explain their first meeting. And their play on his gentlemanly—or, rather more importantly, his ungentlemanly behaviour. There’d been a distinct flirtatious undercurrent to that conversation—on both sides. But that was only talk. This situation was real and forced them into an uncomfortably intimate proximity.
‘If we can’t agree, why don’t we toss a coin for who gets the bed when we get to the room?’ she said.
‘We’ll see about that,’ he said. No way would he allow her to sleep on a sofa. He could sleep on the floor if he had to.
‘I didn’t realise how stubborn you could be,’ she said, obviously bemused.
He grinned. ‘You’ve got that right. Although I’d say determined rather than stubborn.’
As it turned out, she needn’t have worried about who was or wasn’t going to get the bed versus the sofa. The Silver Trees housekeeper led them into the lift and onto the first floor. The woman opened the door to a luxurious room with an enormous king-size bed and an en-suite bathroom. French doors opened out to a balcony and a view of the garden.
Eloise stared at the housekeeper in ill-disguised dismay. ‘But this isn’t my usual room.’
Josh followed her gaze to the enormous bed that dominated the room. There was no sofa, just a big vintage cane chair that looked exceedingly uncomfortable. But they couldn’t display misgivings. As far as their hosts were concerned, he and his fiancée should be delighted to have that big bed.
He put his arm around Eloise and squeezed her shoulder, hoping she’d get the message she was giving the game away by her show of reluctance.
‘I was told to swap you to this larger guest room, as your fiancé was with you,’ the housekeeper said, obviously confused by the lack of enthusiasm.
‘It’s a marvellous room, isn’t it, honey?’ Josh said.
Eloise’s eyes widened at his use of the endearment. But he was taking the role of fake fiancé and running with it.
She caught on. ‘Yes. It’s a beautiful room,’ she gushed.
‘And so good of you to organise it for us at such short notice,’ Josh said.
The housekeeper looked gratified.
When he was growing up their housekeeper had been a very nice woman. She’d even cried when he and his mother had left. But she’d been too scared of losing her job to come and see them at his new home.
‘We’re thrilled,’ Eloise said, right into the act now. ‘Thank you. And thank you to Mr and Mrs Sanderson for giving us such a beautiful room. We’ll be very comfortable here.’
Comfortable? He had to fight the images of him and Eloise making very good use of that bed. There wouldn’t be a lot of sleeping going on, that was for sure. He wanted her. Badly. But the reasons for it not being a good idea for him to make love with her were still there, clamouring at him to keep his gaze away from the bed and the tantalising possibilities it evoked.
‘Do you need help with your luggage?’ asked the housekeeper.
‘No, thank you, we can get it ourselves,’ said Eloise very quickly.
Josh watched with Eloise until the housekeeper disappeared into the lift and they saw no one else was in earshot.
She turned to him. ‘Only one bed. Not even a sofa. What the heck are we going to do?’
‘I’ll sleep on the chair. Or the floor.’
‘No, you won’t. I can’t let you do that. Either way would be hideously uncomfortable and totally unfair to you when you’re d
oing me a favour. The bed is huge; we’ll just have to both sleep in it, trying...trying not to be aware the other person is there.’
‘Are you serious? Do you honestly think I could sleep in a bed with you and not be aware you were there?’ An image of her flashed into his mind, of her lying back against the rumpled sheets, her dark hair spilled across the pillows, her shoulders bare, her breasts... Her warm, sexy presence would be the only thing on his mind. ‘That won’t be easy.’
She looked up at him, her blue eyes huge, her cheeks flushed. ‘It won’t be easy for me either, Josh. Please be aware of that.’
Did she realise that knowing she wanted him as much as he wanted her did nothing to make it easier for him? She looked so woebegone he couldn’t stop himself from opening his arms. ‘Come here,’ he said. She went towards him and he enfolded her in a comforting hug. It wasn’t breaking her rule. They weren’t behind closed doors. To anyone seeing them, they were an engaged couple embracing.
‘This is going to be more difficult than I thought,’ she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. ‘Look how I missed that cue from you back then. The housekeeper must have thought I was very odd not to exclaim in delight at the beautiful room in this amazing mansion. I told you I wasn’t a good actor.’
He pulled back from the hug so that, while she still stood within the circle of his arms, he could look down into her lovely face. ‘You’re doing fine,’ he said. ‘It will be worth it. Just think of the damage that influencer woman is doing to your business.’
‘More cancellations this morning. Vinh texted me before I picked you up.’
‘Put them right back on the bottom of your waiting list when they call wanting to be reinstated, which they will do once they realise they’ve been suckered.’
‘I wouldn’t do that.’
From Bridal Designer to Bride Page 10
