The Fiancee Charade

by Darcy Maguire

  She forced a smile onto her full lips. ‘I can’t wait.’

  The sarcasm in her tone slid through him like the wave of a red flag to every cell in his body. It was all he could do to tear his eyes away from her, to consider not being with her, enduring the next few minutes without that sharp tongue and those piercing eyes in his company.

  ‘Can you close the doors on your way out?’ Lucas asked, staring at her, his eyes flashing with appreciation.

  Alex’s gut tightened. Hell. Lucas was the last man in the world this woman needed.

  He couldn’t help watching the roll of her hips as she moved through the doors, closing them behind her. Couldn’t help but notice the buzz deep in his gut because she’d all but ignored Lucas, not bad-looking himself.

  ‘CG&A are stalling on signing the contract.’

  Alex dropped into his chair. ‘I don’t understand the woman.’

  ‘First they say it’s this clause, then that one. I’m afraid they may be shopping for an alternative, despite our brilliant campaign pitch—one that isn’t so high on the fees or so tight on the loyalty clauses.’

  Alex ran both his hands through his hair. ‘She confuses me to hell and back. One minute she can be telling me what I’m doing wrong, the next minute cursing me for being who I am.’

  ‘I think we may need to throw some extra incentives in.’

  ‘Incentives for her to like me?’ Alex frowned. What else could he offer? If she wasn’t interested in his money, his limo, his boat or his status in the business world, then what on earth could get through the walls the woman had built?

  And he had to break through those walls to get her seeing men again in the future.

  ‘I was talking about incentives we could offer CG&A to cement their account with us. You know they’re the crown of the corporate world. Their advertising budget is close to the income of a small country. This is what you’ve been working towards. This is it.’

  ‘Incentives…yes,’ Alex murmured, stroking his jaw, running through the possibilities. Maybe Jess had a point with some of her advice. Maybe she was right about him being over the top and shallow. Maybe he could incorporate what made sense to him from her lectures, what worked on her…

  He could use what she was saying to work on her walls, break them down, and get her heart in the game again.

  Lucas nodded. ‘The party on Saturday will be great…everyone loves to be pampered and entertained. But I think we need to put more work behind their advertising campaign. Add something new and innovative that will have them racing to sign up with us.’

  Alex stared at his friend. ‘Great idea, Lucas. Get the team working on that.’ He rearranged the stationery on his desk. ‘Something new and innovative…Something that will have her signing up with men…giving up her icy walls and melting.’ And it would be so nice to have her melt in his arms. He grew hotter at the thought of tasting her lips, holding her soft, curvaceous body against his and running his hands over her.

  He shook himself. ‘I’ll need to know everything I can about the woman. And find out if she has a boyfriend or not.’ He didn’t want to be wrong on that account. No way did he want another guy on the scene, messing her up.

  Alex ran his hand through his hair, quelling the turbulence deep in his gut. It wasn’t as if he cared. He just needed all the facts to get the job done…

  Lucas scribbled a note on his folder. ‘I’ll get on it. But let me get this right: you’re using this woman to teach you what you’re doing wrong with women so they don’t treat you like a wallet with legs, but now you want to know all about her? Why? You want to get her into bed?’

  ‘No,’ Alex growled, concentrating on straightening his desk.

  Lucas stroked his goatee. ‘Right. And the thought hasn’t occurred to you since I mentioned it earlier that if you can get Miss Women Against Womanisers there to fall for your charms then you can go after Natasha knowing you can get her?’

  A dullness spread through Alex’s chest. He lifted his chin, shirking the feeling. ‘Not a chance.’

  ‘Hell, after this ice queen you could have anyone.’ Lucas sat down on a chair, resting his elbows on his knees, balancing the folder in his hands.

  ‘Natasha…’ Alex couldn’t help but see the logic in Lucas’s argument. It mirrored his own exactly. It did make sense. Jess was a challenge and a half, and it would more than prove him capable of wooing Natasha.

  ‘Natasha would make a great date for Saturday night,’ Lucas said, grinning. ‘Look good to have her by your side for the CG&A mob. Once you’ve finished with Jess.’

  Alex frowned.

  Lucas rearranged the folder on his lap. ‘Jess will be fine—you’re not going to hurt her. Just let her know how beautiful she is, and how good it is to be loved by a man.’

  Alex shook his head, gritting his teeth, a flare of heat clawing at him. ‘Don’t think so. No. Not a good idea.’

  ‘If you’re not up for the challenge…’ Lucas offered, leaning forward, intent burning in his eyes.

  Alex stared at his friend, an icy chill filling his chest. ‘No,’ he rushed, struggling to classify the unpleasant sensation. ‘I’ve got her covered.’

  ‘You’re going to do it?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ll take care of Miss Jess Thompson and her reluctance with men. You concentrate on CG&A.’

  ‘Right.’ Lucas strode across the room. ‘So you’re going to teach her how to like men again by charming her into your bed?’

  Alex jerked to his feet, frowning again. ‘I’ll do right by her.’ He struggled to quell the rise of heat deep in his loins at the thought of Jess in his bed.

  He strode to the window and stared out at Sydney, fighting the swamping desire filling him.

  She wasn’t for him.

  He’d already chosen the perfect partner and he wasn’t going to sacrifice his perfect life with Natasha. Not for anything.

  It was just the sheer challenge of Jess that was causing this turbulence inside him. He hadn’t had a real challenge for a while…It had nothing to do with those deep emerald eyes of hers, or her smile, or that flare of passion in her voice.

  He swung to face his friend.

  Lucas stood by the door, a smile spread across his face, his eyes glinting with what he would do with Jess given half a chance. ‘You’d better be careful, though. That’s one woman I wouldn’t want seriously hating me.’ He opened his folder. ‘You know—a woman’s scorn and all that.’

  Alex nodded. She sure did have a lot of passion. If she used it for evil instead of good…God help the man in her path.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  JESS leant against his office doors, dragging long, cool breaths into her tight lungs. She wanted to scream.

  Why couldn’t they have ignored her? Treated her like a piece of furniture—invisible? Then she could have got the information she needed to get the hell away from Alexander Calahan.

  When she got home tonight she’d fill the bath with bubbles, light all her candles and some incense and try to exorcise today from her life.

  One day—that was all this was. It was all she had to do. She looked towards the ceiling. She could do this for Kath, for herself, and for her father.

  Coffee. She needed caffeine…and she needed a break from his intensity. She didn’t need to be in there with him. It wasn’t as if she’d miss his company or anything, with his probing questions and kiss-me lips.

  He was the most irritating son of a—

  ‘Jess, I’m sorry Mr Calahan is busy,’ Mrs Samuels offered from her desk, smiling softly, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. ‘He organised today painstakingly over the last few days, to make sure there’d be no interruptions to your work with him, but Lucas just couldn’t wait. Would you like a cuppa?’

  Jess couldn’t help but smile. If Calahan was so keen on her advice that he’d spend more than two seconds ordering Mrs Samuels to make room for her, then she could do her bit and act the good little romantic coach. ‘Could I ever!�
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  The older woman smiled softly. ‘He is a bit intense. But that’s what we all like about him.’

  ‘Someone likes him?’ She bit her lip, clamping her mouth tightly closed. Dammit.

  Mrs Samuels frowned. ‘You may have got the wrong impression of him. When it comes to business he’s a very serious young man. He expects a lot from himself, and those around him, and usually gets it.’

  ‘Is that a heads-up?’ she asked, watching the woman rise from her desk, her gaze on her as though she was a teacher about to scold her.

  ‘Yes. Whatever you’ve been brought in to do, he will expect the highest results from you.’ She gestured to her left.

  ‘U-huh.’ Poor sexy young Calahan. By the time the guy worked out that her advice, although brutally honest, was just her opinion, and not necessarily right, she’d be long gone…with at least one of his clients, maybe more.

  ‘Don’t be too hard on him. He’s put a lot of expectations on himself to succeed in every pursuit he undertakes.’

  ‘Right.’ Jess looked down the hallway, praying the coffeepot wasn’t far away and she wouldn’t be subjected to a long lecture about the man.

  ‘It’s his relationship with his father that drives him.’

  Jess stared at the ceiling, biting her tongue. No way did she want to hear about his silver spoon upbringing and all the woes of being encouraged to step into his father’s shoes. ‘Okay,’ she scoffed. How hard could it be to climb into a rich upper-class life where he didn’t have to struggle for anything?

  Mrs Samuels clucked. ‘You don’t understand. When his father left his mother for another woman it left a chip on his shoulder the size of a billboard. He was determined to build himself into his own man, with assets and wealth to rival his father’s—to show him, I guess, that he didn’t need or want anything from the man.’

  A knot formed deep in Jess’s chest, where all sorts of strange sensations were fighting with those bats.

  So Calahan’s childhood hadn’t been rosy. He was a self-made man and had issues. That didn’t mean it changed anything or excused anything.

  ‘How about that cuppa?’ Jess blurted, before Mrs Samuels could start on about his charms and assets as a human being. She’d have to scream…or run.

  ‘Of course.’ The woman laughed nervously, starting down the hall as though she realised she’d said too much. ‘I’ll show you where everything is.’

  The buzzer sounded on her desk. Mrs Samuels froze, glanced back.

  ‘I’ll find my own way,’ Jess said, keen to escape the older woman and her rose-coloured view of Calahan.

  She nodded. ‘You’re such a nice girl.’

  Jess managed a smile, unable to meet the woman’s eyes.

  ‘Fred?’ Mrs Samuels called to someone behind Jess. ‘Can you show Miss Thompson here the kitchen?’

  Jess swung around. The tall man who faced her was sort of cute. A clean-shaven twenty-something, with mousy brown hair cut in a classic short back and sides office style. His gaze wandered over her.

  ‘Sure thing,’ he murmured, smiling. ‘This way.’

  Jess followed. ‘So, you work here?’

  ‘Yes—junior executive.’ He straightened the fit of his off-the-rack suit. ‘And you are…?’

  ‘Interested in what you do,’ she said, and fluttered her lashes at the guy. What Kath owed her for this entire nightmare…

  He paused at a doorway. ‘This is the kitchen.’

  ‘I’m Jess,’ she said softly, offering him her hand and mentally crossing her fingers. ‘I’m consulting with Mr Calahan.’

  ‘Really? For which client?’

  Jess leant back in the doorframe, a smile playing on her lips. If only he knew! ‘I’m not at liberty to say, but if you mention the name I may nod.’

  ‘Taylors?’

  Jess’s heart lurched in her chest. The guy was actually going to play the game…She knew Taylors were looking for representation. They were smaller fry, and Kath was already booked in to present a proposal for advertising their latest product line.

  ‘Sawtell & Collins? Bramton? Cowly?’

  She stared nonchalantly at the man, holding on to the smile that threatened to break. This was it. She was getting the names of companies looking for new ad representation. She should have ditched Calahan sooner and shaken this guy down, then she wouldn’t have to think about how he would feel if she actually used this information.

  Fred rubbed his mouth, his brow drawn. ‘No?’ He started, his eyes gleaming. ‘Then it’s gotta be—’

  She leant forward, not breathing.

  This was it.

  Salvation. From Calahan, from mediocrity, from budgets, bank balances in the red, from her father’s harsh comments at her choice of occupation.

  ‘Hey, Fred.’

  Calahan’s voice rocketed through her body.

  ‘Thanks for keeping Miss Thompson entertained while I was busy, but I’ll take over now.’

  Calahan’s tone sent cold tendrils of fear through her body. Did he know what she was up to? He didn’t sound happy that she was talking to this guy.

  Fred cleared his throat. ‘No worries. I was just going.’ He pointed down the hall, moving away.

  Jess watched him go, half tempted to run after the guy and shake that name out of him, just so she could escape Calahan’s territory and go back to her own.

  ‘You haven’t got your coffee yet?’ Calahan said, his voice deep and soft, his gaze caressing her. ‘Let me make it for you.’

  ‘You?’ She choked on the word, sensation sizzling through her at that look. What had he and Lucas discussed?

  He moved through the doorway. ‘Yes. I can make coffee, tea, pasta, and various frozen cuisine that only requires nuking to be palatable.’

  She followed him into the kitchenette, trying to smile as he lightened the mood. ‘A man of many skills.’

  ‘You’d better believe it,’ he said, smiling back as he swung to face her.

  Her chest tightened. His warm smile was burning into her brain, sending an irritating heat through her veins.

  She bit her bottom lip. Just watching him move was getting to her—as was the growing desire to know more about him.

  She froze. She couldn’t like him. Not when she was so close to the big name that would severely compromise him and seriously benefit them.

  A vision of him and his father at odds with each other, his maybe less than perfect childhood, filled her mind, haunting her.

  She lifted her chin. She wasn’t just a girl, wasn’t a quitter, and she was not going to let anyone get in her way. ‘Your secretary said you’re in some competition with your father?’ she blurted.

  Calahan sobered, his blue eyes piercing her. ‘I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to pry into matters that don’t involve you.’

  ‘Hit a sore spot, have I?’ she taunted, hating herself. But she couldn’t have him be all charming with her again. She needed to hate him. ‘She volunteered the information quite readily. Probably thought I was in need of finding out that you actually have some depth.’

  He stalked across the room to the kettle and flicked a switch. ‘You call that depth?’

  ‘It certainly makes you more interesting.’ She leant back against the table and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘This is what women want to hear about.’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Threatened by letting a woman into your life?’

  ‘Fine.’ He threw up his arms. ‘You know about my father. It’s no secret that there’s no love lost between us, or that I haven’t spoken to the man in over two years. Do you take your coffee with milk or sugar?’

  His words slid through her like knives. At least her father talked to her, no matter how judgemental and cynical he was about what she did. The arguments they had were about her following in her father’s footsteps in advertising, with her father scoffing that she’d end up in quicksand, as he had. Comments that there were better occupations for a
nice young woman…the suggestion that she wasn’t up to the challenge—all still grated on her.

  She was going to make him proud of her, even if it killed her. Gawd, she wanted the old times back. When her mother was alive. When he’d take her to work with him, play ball with her, build a cubby for her, or a dollhouse. When she’d meant something to him.

  But she guessed that arguments were better than being ignored. ‘I understand that you’d feel animosity towards your father for leaving your mother.’ She swallowed hard. ‘But what do you gain by becoming a bigger jerk than he was?’

  He stared at her, his mouth pulled thin, a muscle flicking in his jaw and his large hands balled into fists.

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his.

  The war waged in him was tense, filling the room with a power that made the hair on Jess’s neck prickle.

  ‘Just saying—that’s all.’ She waved off the words as though clearing the air.

  What was she doing?

  She was meant to be buttering the guy up to get the name she wanted, not getting ousted. Although the thought of leaving Calahan well and truly behind her seemed like the best idea at the moment.

  He stood frozen, staring at her, as though words failed him.

  She didn’t owe him anything, least of all loyalty or an explanation. ‘I’m sorry,’ she blurted. ‘I just figured there was a similarity. He ran off on you and your mother, avoiding real responsibility and commitment, and you—’

  ‘I want a wife and family.’

  Jess bit her bottom lip. ‘But do you want the real thing? Or just someone to play the role?’

  Calahan frowned.

  ‘Do you want a lover, a friend, a partner in life? Or a trophy wife?’ Jess shook her head, trying to focus on the big client. It had to be big by the look in Fred’s eyes. Enormous. Wealthy. Profitable beyond comprehension…

  Better to think about the job at hand than the pain shadowing Calahan’s eyes.

  She jerked up and went straight to the counter, and pulled down a couple of cups off the shelf.