The Fiancee Charade

by Darcy Maguire

‘That’s my job,’ Calahan said from right behind her.

  ‘That’s okay,’ she said quickly, her whole body tensing at the heat his body was radiating behind hers. ‘I’m quite skilled at making coffee. I was making coffee for my father at work from seven years old. I’d spend nearly every afternoon in the office with him, and holidays…’ She trailed off, the memories of those times with her father shadowed only by how unwell her mother had been so often. ‘He took it black with three sugars then.’

  ‘He’s dead?’

  She shook her head, pulling out the coffeepot and filling the two cups, thrilled to be talking about anything other than his father. ‘No, he’s changed. Takes it white and without sugar.’

  ‘Why?’

  She swallowed hard. She wished it was for health reasons; it would have been easier to help. ‘I guess he figures he doesn’t deserve the flavour, or to get the sweets in life now.’

  ‘Why?’

  Tears stung her eyes. ‘Because he lost everything that was important to him. His wife, his business and his dignity.’

  ‘He had you,’ Calahan said softly.

  She arranged the cups, his words sliding into her chest and warming her. If only her father had thought like that. ‘I wasn’t enough.’

  Alex touched her shoulders gently, his gut tight with the torture of the pain in her voice. It wasn’t right. How could her father ignore her when obviously she’d lost as much as he had?

  He wasn’t going to be that sort of father. Not like hers, or his. He was going to be the perfect dad.

  Her accusation of being just like his father still echoed inside him, sending cold waves crashing against his heart. All these years he’d thought he was different, but Jess was right. He’d been treating women with the same carelessness his father had…and paying the price with relationships that were as empty as his father’s.

  But now there was Jess, and he was going to change.

  He swallowed hard. Did she resent her father as much as he did his own? Did she hate him for abandoning her? Had he been the start of her downward slide to Women Against Womanisers?

  ‘Your mother?’ he asked softly, the urge to slip his arms around her threatening to engulf him.

  ‘Died when I was fourteen,’ she said dully, almost as though she were talking to the wall rather than to him. ‘I was sent to live with my aunt.’

  ‘Your father?’

  ‘Didn’t want me around. But I’m determined to make things right.’ She shook his hands off. ‘My aunt was a nice person and all, but visiting my father every other weekend was almost as hard as dealing with life without Mum.’

  She’d lost everything.

  Alex could imagine her wondering what she’d done wrong to deserve being fostered by an aunt. Wondering if it was that her father didn’t care.

  She sucked in a deep breath. ‘How do you like your coffee?’

  Alex stepped backwards, eyeing her carefully. She was just like him—making things right again, making her father realise the error of his ways. Making him see that she didn’t need him—just as he didn’t need anything from his father. She could make her life perfect in every way where he had failed miserably and continued to fail miserably.

  ‘It’s not a hard question,’ she said, her tone lighter.

  He smiled, feeling lifted by sharing that moment with her, despite the pain of it. ‘Black, one sugar.’

  ‘Me too,’ she said warily. Her eyes were lowered as she turned to face him.

  He tipped his head, trying to catch the look in her eyes. They had more in common than he’d thought…and she spoke to him the person, not the image, listened to him, saw him for who he was.

  Gawd, he wanted her.

  The need ripped through him like a storm, the sweet warmth the thought evoked almost drowning him.

  He needed her.

  The realisation slammed into him with a force he’d never felt before. He didn’t want just lessons. Not just to romance the woman’s walls down. And not Natasha Bradford-Jones.

  Lucas was right. The party on the boat would be an ideal first date with the woman he intended to make his bride.

  He felt the ripple of anticipation. He couldn’t wait to have the perfect woman at his side and know that he’d keep her—for ever.

  All he had to do was convince the woman—and Jess was going to prove more of a challenge than Natasha ever had.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘WOMEN want honesty, not the empty flattery you dish out like it was candy,’ Jess explained again, lifting her chin and staring at the guy opposite her, challenging him, cradling her coffee mug in her hands.

  If he ever mentioned what she’d stupidly blurted out to him in a moment of weakness she’d die on the spot. She hadn’t even shared with Kath her father’s rejection of her as a child, and it irked her to consider that she’d shared it with the enemy.

  Calahan leant forward in the chair, cupping his coffee mug in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. ‘Sure—honesty,’ he said slowly, sarcastically. ‘As if I’d go and tell the woman in my life she’s wearing an outfit that makes her butt resemble that of a hippo.’

  Jess smiled. She was thrilled he hadn’t seemed to take anything of what she’d said to heart—or was just letting it slide…like a nice, considerate person.

  She sobered. But he couldn’t be, because he was the enemy—and the enemy didn’t have a heart, consideration or feelings.

  Just as Calahan hadn’t had a heart when he had destroyed her father’s business on his ruthless climb to the top.

  At least he’d know in years to come why she’d needed so badly to take on the Calahan empire and crush him like a bug. Once he’d figured out who she was…

  She pulled back her shoulders. She knew who and what he was—a couple of sweet words, a little kindness and knowing a bit of his past shouldn’t change that.

  She took a gulp of her coffee. ‘Of course a woman wants absolute honesty. She doesn’t want to go out with her rear looking like a zoo animal’s,’ she said, as soberly as she could. ‘I wouldn’t.’

  He frowned. ‘But she’d be offended. You would if I told you that your cute little butt looked like an elephant’s in those trousers.’

  Jess glanced towards her backside, twisting. ‘It does not.’ At least she hoped not. She had three pairs of these black trousers at home, hanging in her cupboard for work.

  Calahan shook his head slowly. ‘See—we have an argument on our hands. So why wouldn’t I just offer you a white lie?’

  ‘One white lie turns to a grey one, and that turns black and nasty.’ She stood up, running her hand down her butt, smoothing the fabric. Dean’s white lies sliced through her anew, gouging open the old wounds.

  Calahan was the same breed, a man with the use-them-and-lose-them mentality who viewed women as chattel.

  She smiled softly. ‘If you were honest she’d know that she could believe you—know that you care for her so much that you’d give her the advice she needs to hear.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ He frowned. ‘That’s what you’d want?’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Jess felt the sweet warmth of treachery sliding through her veins. If the man wanted to use her to teach him new romantic tricks to use on the poor, unsuspecting women out there, she was all for giving them a fighting chance to see him for the jerk he was. ‘Try me.’

  Calahan’s kiss-me lips curved slightly. ‘Okay.’ His gaze careered over her. ‘But you look perfect in that outfit.’

  She crossed her arms over her chest, a bubble of warmth encapsulating her. ‘Even my butt?’

  ‘Especially your butt.’

  She couldn’t help but smile. ‘Thanks, but I’m sure you’ll be able to dredge up an honest comment.’

  ‘That was honest.’ He leant back in his seat, placing his mug on the table. His short spiky hair was a little ruffled on top, his face almost boyishly innocent. ‘You’re beautiful.’

  Jess fought the tingle sizzling through every nerve in her body, tr
ying to breathe evenly in the face of his stormy blue eyes.

  She took one last gulp of her strong black coffee. ‘You’re not even trying. Come on,’ she taunted, putting her cup down and twirling on the spot. ‘There has to be something you’ve been dying to say to me.’

  Calahan nodded slowly.

  ‘Well, spit it out. Give me a sign that what I’m telling you is sinking into that thick skull of yours.’ She was desperate for him to say something arrogant, jerky and mean so she could go back to the pure hatred she’d felt this morning.

  He rubbed his jaw. ‘You don’t have a boyfriend, do you?’

  ‘That’s not the sort of comment I was after.’

  ‘I’ll do honesty if you do.’

  ‘Fine.’

  She swallowed hard. There wasn’t any point in keeping on the boyfriend ruse. It had to be obvious to the guy that she didn’t have one just by her attitude towards men.

  ‘I don’t.’

  He nodded, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. ‘Your fringe is too long.’

  She touched the locks of hair falling down beside her face, curling softly towards her chin. She’d been growing out her university bangs for years. ‘Good start, but not direct enough.’ She shook her head, needing something harsh, something to fuel hate.

  She strode towards him, looking down into his face, biting the soft tissue of her cheek. He was still being far too kind. A woman might dismiss his comment as an awkward attempt at praise. Cripes, she could!

  ‘Say you don’t like it and why,’ she demanded, glowering down at him. ‘Because it looks like a rat’s tail? Because it looks trashy? Because it makes me look like a hairy yeti?’

  He hesitated, his gaze narrowing.

  She sucked in a deep, slow breath. Had she pushed him too hard? Was he wondering why she was being so direct, wanting him to be so harsh? Did he suspect there was more to her than met the eye?

  ‘Just be honest,’ she said softly.

  He nodded his head slowly, as though considering her. ‘Okay.’ He tilted his head, getting to his feet and looking down into her face. He swept an offending lock of hair back behind her ear. ‘It’s because your hair hides your face.’

  Jess’s heart slammed into her chest.

  ‘You’re beautiful—why hide yourself from the world?’ He lifted his other hand, brushing his knuckles across her cheek as he pushed back her fringe at the other side.

  A sizzle of sensation rocked through her, awakening her every nerve to his touch, to the gentleness in his eyes, to the deep warmth in his voice.

  She sucked in a deep breath, rolled her eyes at him. ‘That’s not the honesty I was hoping for,’ she choked.

  Calahan’s gaze was on her mouth.

  ‘You’re not being honest,’ she rushed, moistening her lips. ‘You’re falling back into your old habits. I want raw frankness from you. Direct and uncompromising.’

  ‘It was honest, raw and uncensored. You want more?’

  Jess nodded, holding her breath, praying that he was trying out what she was teaching him and didn’t mean that incredible look in his eyes or that promise on his lips—not for her.

  ‘I’d like to kiss you, Jess Thompson.’

  She opened her mouth, his words echoing through her head, taunting her body with sensuous possibilities and her mind with the risk of kissing the enemy—and liking it.

  He ran his thumb over her lips, whisper-soft and sensuous.

  She snapped her mouth shut, willing her legs to work, to take her away from danger, from those eyes, and from those sensual lips that were coming ever closer.

  She closed her eyes.

  This couldn’t be happening. Not to her. She had everything planned, and this wasn’t part of it.

  She was a rock. The one that was going to trap this guy against a hard place…the one that was going to crush him like he’d crushed her father’s hopes and dreams. And hers.

  He had to pay.

  Alex ran his hand down her cheek, cupping her neck, drawing her closer to him.

  The thrill of having her close pumped through his veins, filling every inch of him with a burning sensation.

  What was this feeling?

  He didn’t care. All that mattered was the pull to take her mouth, hold her close and feel the passion pounding inside her.

  He leant down and took her lips, tasting her sweet softness, the gentleness she offered him willingly.

  He ached.

  She was so soft…It was all he could do to move back, to let her go. Was he moving too fast?

  They hadn’t even discussed the man who had sent her to Women Against Womanisers. There was no way he wanted to be another blow to her.

  He stared down at her, fighting a smile as he watched her draw a shaky breath, try to regain control, try to hide her desire.

  ‘Have you quite finished, Mr Calahan?’

  He blinked, sobering. Jess was glaring up at him, with a coldness in her eyes that couldn’t possibly be there.

  ‘I know I’m a woman and single,’ she said sternly, ‘but, really—can’t you control your debased urges for five minutes without hitting on me?’

  ‘I—’ Alex jerked back from her, running his hand through his hair. This couldn’t be…How could this be? It just wasn’t possible. She had shown all the signs of softening towards him. Her lips alone had been testament to the passion that flowed through her.

  She strode to the sink, snatching up her cup and rinsing it. ‘Now,’ she said, swinging to face him, her hair swishing around her shoulders. ‘If you’ve quite finished pretending to be Don Juan, maybe a tour of your company would be in order.’

  ‘Why?’ he managed, his mind running through the signals he’d picked up from her. Was it something to do with the last guy in her life? Had he accidentally pushed a button for her? Or wasn’t she over the guy yet?

  Alex’s gut tightened.

  ‘It would probably be a good idea for me to understand what you do here so I can get a handle on what you say to your dates.’ Jess dried the cup and placed it on the cup tree. ‘I want you to be honest about your job—you know, not glorify your position at all.’

  Alex pulled back his shoulders. ‘I own this entire company.’

  ‘So you own a company?’ she said, shrugging. ‘I could own one too, and so could Joe Blow down the road for a couple of dollars and a bit of paperwork.’

  Alex leant back against the bench, trying not to look as disturbed as he felt. If she needed time he’d give her all that she needed. One step at a time…to get over her walls. ‘This is the top advertising agency in the city.’

  ‘So you say,’ she threw over her shoulder, her tone light and unbelieving. She sauntered to the door, her hips rocking, taunting him with what he would obviously have to work a lot harder for. ‘Prove it.’

  Alex clenched his teeth. The woman was incredible—and he loved the way she used anger to defend herself.

  How he could have expected to charm her into his arms with his flawed methods was beyond him. But she was just what the doctor had ordered.

  He’d use Jess’s own expertise, the advice about romance that she was dispensing left, right and centre, to win her over.

  She wouldn’t stand a chance.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HE KISSED like a god.

  Jess touched her lips, still sizzling from the encounter. But just because Calahan knew how to kiss a woman that didn’t mean she was going to back down from this fight.

  Sure, his kiss had sent her senses spinning wildly, but she was still in control. Sure, she’d liked how his lips had plied hers, warm and gentle, and sure, she had enjoyed the kiss…a little. But it was time to get real.

  Alexander Calahan was not for her.

  He was the devil in a nice blue suit and she was going to put him in his place. No matter what it took.

  She just prayed that it was going to be sooner rather than later. The time she was spending with the guy was taking its toll on her.

 
She’d get the name of that big client he was hunting and escape—before she forgot who he was and let herself like him.

  ‘How about lunch?’ Calahan asked from behind her.

  She spun around, her eyes narrowed. Not another ploy to show off his bankroll and connections! Or to get her to some romantic venue and torture her with his seductions.

  ‘Purely as a necessity to keep the body alive and the brain functioning at optimal output—not as a shallow attempt at seducing you.’

  Jess had to smile at his perception of her hesitation. ‘As long as we’ve got that clear.’

  ‘As crystal.’ Calahan followed her out to the elevators. ‘There’s a rather nice restaurant a couple of kilometres away.’

  ‘Expensive?’

  Calahan nodded. ‘But worth every penny.’

  ‘I don’t mind a pizza or a burger.’ The last thing she wanted was to be beholden to him for taking her somewhere nice and spending a mint on her.

  ‘I’ll write it off as a business expense.’

  She turned and faced him, casting a long look around her at what she could see of the floor. If there was any chance of finding Fred again rather than spending more one-on-one time with Calahan she was all for it.

  ‘You can write off freelance romance trainers?’

  ‘Is that what you are?’ He punched the button for the lift.

  She looked to the display panel above the doors, willing the lift to hurry. ‘It feels like that’s what I’m doing.’

  Calahan nodded. ‘Yes, it does. So, Trainer, what’s my next lesson?’

  She touched her lips, stifling a smile, hoping she looked thoughtful rather than wicked. ‘Well, in my experience honesty is number one, and although we’ve discussed that one—’

  ‘How are you an expert on how important honesty is in a relationship?’ Calahan asked casually, leaning against the wall.

  Jess’s blood fired. ‘I’m a woman, aren’t I?’ she blurted, fighting her attraction. ‘You ask any woman and she’ll tell you about a man that’s lied to her and crushed her dreams.’

  ‘So you were lied to? He cheated on you?’

  ‘No. Yes. No,’ she shot back, her cheeks heating. Suppressing the wave of pain, she lifted her chin. ‘Lesson two is communication. So tell me now, in your own words, what your line of work is.’