[Anthology] A Clean Fake Marriage Romance Collection

by Victorine E. Lieske

  Suddenly self-conscious, she tightened her hold on her purse. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” He placed his hand on the small of her back, and tingles ran up her spine. She hurried ahead of him, out of reach. It was best to stay in a business arrangement with Rick Shade.

  They got in the limo. The conversation was all surface as they rode, and soon they pulled up in front of a restaurant. Paparazzi waited along the sidewalk. Rick climbed out first and took her hand. Flashes of light blinded her as she stumbled out of the car.

  Someone shoved a microphone in front of Rick’s face. “Is it true you’re dating your maid?”

  Rick put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I met this lovely young woman in a rather unusual way, yes.”

  “Is this the girl that will tame your wild side?”

  “Is it serious, Rick?”

  “How long have you been dating?”

  Rick put his hand up. “Not long enough. I’d like to continue dating, if that’s okay with you.” He gave them a drop-dead gorgeous smile, and then ushered her into the building.

  They were led to a secluded part of the restaurant and were seated at a table near a large window, where the paparazzi could take photos of them while they ate. Tara felt like an animal at the zoo. This was worse than anything she’d endured while married to Bobby. His fame had been brief. Rick Shade was in a whole different category.

  “Don’t be nervous.” Rick reached across the table and took her hands in his. “Just keep looking at me. It will make it easier to pretend they aren’t there.”

  He smiled at her, and she realized he was a fantastic actor. Anyone outside on the sidewalk would see a couple being affectionate. She tried to smile back. “Okay.”

  The server brought them water and menus. Tara’s stomach was tied in so many knots, she wasn’t sure how she would choke down a meal, but when he came back she ordered anyway. It was expected of her. When they were alone again, she tried to focus on Rick, just like he’d said.

  She looked into his eyes and butterflies joined the knots in her stomach. Man, he had some amazing eyes. They were cool blue, like a winter sky. They seemed to have no end to their depths. She dropped her gaze before the intensity grew too much for her.

  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

  Busted. She wasn’t going to tell him she was thinking about how beautiful his eyes were. She picked up her water glass and wondered if it would look odd if she doused herself with it. “It’s a bit warm in here.”

  “I’ll have them adjust the temperature.” He started to stand, and she put up her hand.

  “No. Don’t. I’m fine.”

  He sat back down and peered at her curiously. “You are an enigma.”

  She made a face. “What do you mean by that?”

  “They would cool the room if we asked, but you insist on remaining uncomfortable.”

  She didn’t want to admit that his intense gaze was the source of her discomfort. “I don’t want to trouble anyone.”

  “It’s no trouble. People like doing things for me.”

  He seemed sincere. Did he not realize people bent over backwards for him because he was famous? Did he think he was just naturally liked by everyone? “Well aren’t you all that and a bag of chips?” She clamped her lips together. What was she doing?

  “I’m a realist. And the reality is people want to make sure I’m happy.”

  “And why do you think they do that?” Tara couldn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. She needed to shut up now, before Rick changed his mind and tossed her out on the street.

  He shot her a cheesy movie grin. “They like me.”

  She wanted to say, ‘They like your money,’ but had the presence of mind to keep that to herself. “You’re right. You’re irresistible.” She couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm from her voice, though, and Rick’s grin slowly faded.

  Deciding it was best to change the subject, Tara asked, “How did you get into acting?”

  “My father’s in theater. Stage acting. I grew up on stage.”

  “He must be very proud of you.”

  A look crossed his face but he didn’t say anything; instead he fiddled with his silverware, unwrapping it and placing his napkin on his lap. Okay, maybe talking about his father wasn’t the best idea. She tried a different approach. “Was it difficult to break into the industry?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. I was in a stage play and someone saw me. Asked me to audition for a movie. Things just exploded from there.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Twenty-one. Old enough to hire full-time and still young enough to pass for a teen on screen.” He looked uncomfortable talking about his early acting career, and she wasn’t sure why. He squirmed on his chair. “And what about you?”

  What about her? What did he mean? “How did I get into housekeeping?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

  He waved a hand in the air, looking around for the server. “Sure, fine, if that’s what you want to talk about.”

  The man rushed over to their table. “What can I get for you, sir?”

  “I’d like a Johnny Walker Black. Neat.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The server left and returned with his drink faster than Tara had ever seen. Rick picked it up and downed half of it. He turned back to her. “So, what led you to your fine career?”

  Why was he asking her about this? “After graduating from medical school, I decided I didn’t want to be a brain surgeon. I realized cleaning toilets was my passion.”

  Rick threw his head back and laughed. “Okay, so that was a dumb question.” His gaze rolled over her, a slight smile on his lips. “Did you go to school?”

  “Bobby and I married right out of high school. He went to college and I worked so we could pay the bills.” She swallowed back the sting that always came when she thought about missing out on college.

  “And then the kid came along.”

  She bristled. Her daughter had a name. Why wouldn’t he use it? “Yes. Kylee was born and I struggled to take care of her and pay the bills while Bobby finished with school. But then he graduated and landed an agent right away. I thought things would get better. He got the part in a big movie . . . and well, things went downhill from there.”

  “But the money helped, right?”

  She held in a snort. “The money ruined my marriage.”

  Rick raised an eyebrow and picked up his glass, the amber liquid swirling. “I have a suspicion that Bobby had a little something to do with that.” He took another drink.

  “The instant fame changed him. I married a sweet man from the Midwest. I divorced a jerk who no longer cared about family values.”

  “He was what, nineteen when you got married? How’s a nineteen-year-old kid supposed to know what he wants out of life?”

  Tara didn’t want to admit they were eighteen when they got married. “You’re right. We were too young. I shouldn’t have married him.”

  “And now you’re stuck with the kid.” He finished his drink and raised his hand to signal for another one.

  Fury swept through her and she fought to control her face so no one got a photo of her in an outrage. “Listen. Kylee is the one bright light in all of this. I am not ‘stuck with her.’ She is my whole world, and if you don’t stop calling her ‘the kid’ I’m going to cram that fork so far down your throat you won’t see it until next year.”

  Rick’s eyes grew wide. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. You’re just young, and now you’re saddled with—”

  “Don’t even say it.” Tara held up her hand to silence him, then sat back in her chair and tried not to scowl. The server brought them their meals, which was a good interruption because she didn’t want to listen to Rick anymore.

  He took a bite of whatever it was he ordered and smiled for the cameras outside. “Let’s call a truce. I won’t mention your daughter again and you won’t sock me when we get back in the limo.”

 
; Sounded good to her. “Fine.” She picked up her fork and pushed the food around her plate. Her stomach now burned and there was no way she’d be able to eat anything.

  After a few minutes, Rick pointed to her plate. “You don’t like it?”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “Then we’ll take it home. I’m sure you’ll want to eat it later.” He went to raise his hand but she stopped him.

  “I’m fine. Let’s just sit here and eat. It’s what we came to do.” She forced herself to smile.

  He shrugged. “Okay.” He ate his dinner in silence. When he swallowed the last of his drink he signaled the server. “I’ll take another. Make it a double.”

  Tara frowned. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to be carrying you home.”

  His laughter rang out, loud and boisterous. “You’re funny.” He ignored her warning and downed his third drink.

  A slow panic started to build in her. What if he got drunk and embarrassed himself? Was she supposed to stop him?

  He looked at her with interest. “What are you thinking?”

  She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say to that. “I’m worried about you.”

  His face screwed up in puzzlement. “Me?”

  “You’re drinking too much.”

  He waved his hand. “You’re too uptight. Relax a little.” He sat back in his chair and draped his arm over the back.

  “I think you’re a little too relaxed.”

  “Life isn’t meant to be taken so seriously.”

  She sighed. Nothing she said was going to change his mind. He was a grown man. He could do what he wanted.

  A teenage girl timidly approached them, a pen and a paper napkin in hand. She couldn’t have been older than thirteen. “Mr. Shade? I’m sorry to bother you. Could you sign my napkin?”

  Rick turned to her, his movie star smile in place. “Of course. What’s your name?”

  “Jenny.”

  He scribbled something on the napkin and handed it back to her.

  She read it, blushed, and said, “Thank you.” She turned and ran back to her table.

  “What did you write?”

  “I wrote that she has a beautiful smile, and signed my name.”

  Tara heard the young girl squeal from across the room. “That was very kind of you.”

  Rick pushed his empty plate away and laid his napkin on the table. “My dad was hard on me as a kid. I was never good enough. But an actress once told me I had a nice smile. I can still remember her face and where I was standing when she said it. When I was feeling bad about myself, I’d think, ‘at least I have a nice smile.’ I figure, if I can give a memory like that to a kid, I’ve helped them in some small way.”

  Tears pricked at her eyes and she had to blink them away. Rick had a soft side to him. Maybe she’d judged him prematurely. He’d probably done just what he said, made a memory for the girl that would last her lifetime. She looked down at the table, unable to say anything.

  Rick raised his hand and asked for the check. After he paid, they stood. Rick wrapped his arm around her as they walked, and her heart started doing a funny dance in her chest. Why did being close to him make her feel this way? Cameras flashed in their face outside. Rick ignored the reporters asking more questions about their relationship, and just gave them another stellar smile.

  The limo pulled around the corner and Tara ducked as Rick waved at the cameras. Tara waited until he climbed in the vehicle, then she slid in beside him.

  Rick leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes.

  As the limousine pulled out into traffic, relief poured over her. They were no longer in the public eye. Rick hadn’t done anything that would end up splashed all over the tabloids. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her shoulders starting to relax.

  His eyes opened and he sat up. “Let’s go dancing.”

  Tara shook her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Rick slid closer to her. “It’ll be fun.” He put his arm around her shoulders. “Carter, take us to a night club.”

  “I’ve got to get back to Kylee.”

  “Hey,” Rick said, putting a finger on her lips. “We promised not to talk about her.”

  She ignored the tingling feeling coming from the contact and pulled his hand down. “No, you promised not to talk about her. I promised not to clobber you in the car, but I may have to break that promise if you get any closer.”

  He chuckled, but slid over. “As you wish.” Then he put on his dazzling smile. “But we’re still going dancing.”

  Tara sighed and gave in, even though dread was settling in her stomach.

  Chapter 5

  Rick awoke with another monster headache, and his phone playing “The Imperial March.” He moaned and rolled over, burying himself under the pillow. Phil. Why was he calling?

  After listening to the imposing tune stop and then start up again a couple of times, Rick reached over to the nightstand and gave in. “Hello?”

  “I told you no more booze.”

  Phil sounded mad. Oops. He tried to remember what had happened last night. He’d taken Tara out to eat. He’d had a few drinks, but no more than he could handle. They got in the car and . . . wait. He’d changed his mind about coming home. They’d gone to a club. He’d had a few more drinks, and he couldn’t remember anything else. He blinked. Crud. He was still wearing last night’s clothes.

  He was afraid to ask, but had to anyway. “What happened?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Just tell me.”

  Phil groaned. “You got plastered, then you crawled up on the bar, got down on one knee, and asked Tara to marry you.”

  Rick’s mind reeled. “I did?”

  “Yes. And now, instead of the classy, upscale proposal I had planned, everyone is talking about you getting sloppy drunk and asking your maid to marry you.”

  Why didn’t he remember any of that? What else had happened? He tried to sit up, but felt sick to his stomach. “It’s not so bad, right? I mean, I was going to propose anyway.”

  “This isn’t good. You don’t need more bad publicity, and here you go making yourself look like an idiot again.”

  His head pounded. He needed to get off the phone. “I’ll fix it.”

  “You’ll fix it by laying off the alcohol. I mean it. No more.”

  Rick sighed. “Yeah. Fine. Okay.”

  “You’d better. Or you can kiss your career goodbye.” The silence on the line told him Phil had hung up.

  He tossed his phone onto the nightstand and cocooned under the covers. Phil was overreacting. It wasn’t a big deal. He was supposed to propose to Tara. He just did it early.

  After lying there for another twenty minutes without being able to fall back asleep, Rick finally rolled out of bed and stumbled into his bathroom. He stood in the shower for a good half hour before he felt a little better. As he toweled off he used the intercom to ask for a cup of coffee to be brought up to him. Then he slipped into his boxers and jeans, and lathered up his face to shave.

  A knock sounded on his door as he was finishing up. He called out to the other room. “Come on in.”

  He looked in the mirror, sliding the razor over his chin to catch the last of the stubble. Then he rinsed the razor. Why wasn’t Eliza bringing him his coffee? He glanced at the doorway and froze. Tara stood there, holding his coffee mug, an unreadable expression on her face.

  If he had known she would be bringing him his coffee, he would have put his shirt on. Her gaze traveled over his chest before she steeled herself and pressed her lips together.

  His stomach churned under her scrutiny. “Hey.”

  “That’s what you have to say for yourself?” She walked into the room and set the mug down on the counter with a thunk.

  He picked it up and took a drink, the hot liquid running down his throat. Unsure of what he was supposed to say, he shrugged at her.

  “I see. You’re going to pretend last night didn
’t happen.”

  Frustration welled in him. “If you want to talk about last night, you might want to fill me in, because after we got to the club, it’s all blank.”

  She huffed. “Figures.”

  “Phil told me I proposed. I didn’t mean to mess that up, but we were going to go down that road anyway, so I don’t see what the big deal is.” He took another sip of his coffee.

  “I’m not upset about the proposal,” she said, quietly.

  Oh no. What else did he do? Guilt surged in his chest, tightening his stomach. He reached for his t-shirt and pulled it on, giving him time to think of what he wanted to say. “I shouldn’t have had that much to drink.”

  She frowned. “Yes.”

  He ran a hand through his wet hair. Why was she staring like that? “If you’re not going to tell me what I did, then why are you here?”

  “I thought maybe you’d know. But it looks like you were so plastered that you blacked out. So I guess we are where we are.”

  What did that mean? He wanted to shake her and make her tell him, but he took a step back. “And where’s that?”

  “Engaged.” She turned and walked out of the room.

  TARA WASN’T SURE WHY she didn’t simply tell Rick what had happened the night before. Instead, she’d acted like a moody teenager. What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just tell him he’d kissed her?

  And she didn’t understand why she was so angry about it. She’d agreed to marry him for a publicity stunt. It was only natural the public would have to see them kiss.

  So, why did that kiss upset her so much?

  She tried to push aside the memory of last night as she walked into the kitchen and sat down beside Kylee, but it didn’t work. At first the club was annoying. Loud music played, and Rick pulled her out on the dance floor. They were both overdressed, and she felt out of place until the music slowed and Rick pulled her close. His cologne did funny things to her, not to mention the way his arms around her made her heart stutter. She looked up at him, and those clear, blue eyes mesmerized her. They swayed to the music, and Tara felt a growing connection with him. When his lips came down on hers, all she could do was close her eyes and get lost in the intensity of the kiss.