The Fiancee Charade

by Darcy Maguire

  She mentally crossed her fingers that he’d be the arrogant egomaniac he was and brag about some big client he was about to get. The one she wanted.

  ‘Didn’t you say I should talk about the woman rather than myself?’

  She waved that off. She was so close. ‘Later. For now, she wants to find out about you.’

  Calahan turned to face her directly, making good eye contact. ‘I’m the president and director of a successful ad company here in Sydney. What about you?’

  She gritted her teeth. Nipping his arrogant boasting and big talk might not have been the best idea… ‘And what are your dreams and goals?’

  This was it. He had to be dreaming of a big client—that big client. She always was.

  The lift bell chimed its arrival.

  Calahan stepped forward. ‘To find a woman I truly love, get married and live happily ever after.’

  The doors opened.

  ‘Okay.’ Jess stepped into the lift, half tempted to close the doors and leave the deluded guy standing there. ‘Happy-ever-afters only happen in fairy tales.’

  ‘I know couples who are very happy with each other,’ he said tentatively.

  ‘The sort that have stuck together through thick and thin, through sickness and health, and will grow old and die loving each other?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Calahan punched the basement button. ‘I suppose you think that since my parents divorced when I was eight I wouldn’t want something more for myself?’

  She faced him. ‘Do you think that since my mother died when I was fourteen I want something different for myself?’

  He frowned. ‘How?’

  She waved an impatient hand in front of her. ‘I don’t want to be like my father—left with nothing because I gave everything.’ With nothing left even for his daughter.

  ‘And I want to give everything so I know that it won’t be my fault when something goes wrong.’

  ‘You said when,’ Jess accused.

  He shrugged. ‘I meant if. I’m determined not to make the same mistakes that my parents did. When I marry it will be to a woman that I truly love.’

  Jess stiffened, thinking of a woman somewhere out there in the city, reading that stupid magazine article and deciding she was going to seduce the guy into thinking she was the one for him. ‘How will you know?’

  ‘I’ll know.’ He leant against the back of the elevator, watching her. ‘I’ll know by how she looks, talks, makes my heart throb and my loins ache.’

  She looked to the ceiling, squashing the rush of bats in her belly. ‘That’s romantic.’

  ‘I won’t be rushing into marriage with anyone. I figure she’ll understand me better than I understand myself. She’ll want children with me, have dreams of her own, and want to share her dreams with me.’

  She raised her eyebrows. You had to love the guy for his naïve dream. She’d had that one years ago, before Dean—who’d stolen the best years of her life for a lie.

  ‘And she won’t be that nagging type that wants to know everything.’

  Jess stared at him, her blood heating. Right. She’d forgotten he was a bachelor for a minute, who probably hadn’t been in a serious relationship in his life. ‘Do you believe in Santa?’

  The lift doors opened and they stepped out.

  He swung round, his hands deep in his pockets, looking sheepish. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she doesn’t exist, and if by some miracle the woman on your wish-list does, you won’t like her,’ Jess shot at him, her cheeks hot.

  ‘Why in hell not?’

  Jess sauntered past him, shrugging, remembering Dean’s reluctance to share much with her. ‘Because if she doesn’t care where you’ve been and with who then she doesn’t love you.’

  ‘Right.’ Calahan stared at her, his eyes unnaturally blue and bright. ‘But doesn’t it stand to reason that we should work as hard for love as for a good business deal?’

  Jess sighed. ‘I don’t know…I think love wouldn’t be love if it was hard work. I think it just comes naturally, right when it’s supposed to and not a minute sooner. No matter how much you plan, scheme and work at it.’

  Calahan stood staring down at her, his eyes shining too brightly.

  Jess sucked in a deep breath. Dammit, she’d gone and got honest with the guy again. That wouldn’t get her anywhere—except into deeper water with the enemy.

  She needed to get serious, get into his head, get what she wanted and get out. Before those sexy lips and blue-blue eyes sucked her into their depths and drowned her.

  ‘I’m just sharing my wisdom with you, that’s all,’ she blurted, terror rising in her throat at the ache in her heart. ‘Just in case you’re thinking something crazy…I still hate you.’

  Athena’s was the nicest little Greek restaurant in the city. It had been a bit of a drive to get there…but thankfully it had been a silent one.

  Calahan had obviously been deep in thought. It was all Jess could do now to rein in her guilt and keep her mouth shut about his silence.

  She’d decided it was far safer that way. She’d been cruel, and an idiot. It wasn’t as if the guy needed to be reminded that she hated everything he stood for—she made it clear every time she opened her mouth.

  There was nothing in his looks. He was Alexander Calahan, destined to marry some wealthy socialite up-and-coming, and she was Jessica Thompson, struggling ad company partner with a load of baggage trailing behind her.

  She glanced at her watch and looked across the restaurant for a waiter to take their order. Only three hours to go and she’d be free of this guy for good.

  She chewed on her bottom lip. Not much time to get what she wanted out of him, but the priority now was to get out of this encounter with some dignity and with all her faculties in order.

  She was not going to be another victim of Alexander Calahan’s charms, or lose her self-control again. She would stay cool, calm and professional for the time remaining.

  ‘What would you like?’

  Calahan’s deep smooth voice crashed into her hard-won control like a freight train. She wanted to get away from him. Run. Before the unsettling sensations in the pit of her stomach turned her will and control into jelly.

  Like? She’d like to wrap her hands around his neck and shake him. ‘I’d like you to stop torturing me with your charm and suave good looks,’ she blurted.

  ‘I meant what you were thinking of eating. But I’m flattered that a hardened member of Women Against Womanisers can give a compliment, even if she can’t receive one.’

  Jess opened her mouth. And closed it. She’d done it again. Why was she unable to keep her mouth shut around this guy?

  She swallowed hard. ‘I’m going to have a Greek salad with feta and olives, spicy chicken souvlaki, and for dessert…I’m wondering if I’ll have room for a Kataifi. Will I fit it in? I don’t want to miss trying this one—it’s with nuts and fragrant syrup.’

  Calahan leant back in his chair. ‘We could share the salad and the Kataifi, if you like.’

  She nodded. ‘Okay.’ If only getting the name of that client would be as easy…

  Calahan smiled at her, his blue eyes lighting up, sparkling like the sea on a fresh summer’s day.

  Jess pulled her attention away, willing her pulse to slow. What was her body doing to her? This was the enemy. The last man in the world she should entertain feelings for.

  The food arrived and they ate quietly, with Jess avoiding glancing at the man opposite her, who seemed content just to eat his meal with her.

  ‘So, what man managed to screw you around so thoroughly that you joined Women Against Womanisers?’ he asked finally.

  Jess put down her fork, dabbing her mouth with her napkin and pondering whether to confess to the man that the organisation didn’t actually exist. ‘Who screwed you around so that you couldn’t find a woman that wanted to keep you without help from me first?’

  ‘Touché.’

  Jess rearranged the cutlery on her plate, casting lon
g looks to the waiter for the bill.

  ‘So you’re not going to tell me?’

  ‘Are you going to tell me?’ she countered, staring him in the face, daring him. What sort of problems did he face?

  ‘Fine.’ Calahan put down his own cutlery and met her gaze. ‘As you know, my parents weren’t good role models. But really I didn’t feel any need until my last birthday, when I felt my biological clock ticking.’

  Jess stared at the man, words failing her. ‘No…’ She shook her head. ‘There’s more…’

  Calahan shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. ‘Okay. It was a gold-digger who took me for a ride and broke my heart.’

  ‘And…?’ she prodded. A man like Calahan didn’t hire someone in for personal romance training without reason.

  He pushed back his chair, picking up his napkin and tossing it onto his plate. ‘And what’s wrong with feeling I’m being left behind, watching my mates marry and have kids?’

  She leant forward, her elbows on the table. ‘Finding someone to marry and settle down with isn’t like a business deal or an ad campaign that you attack with the right marketing and the right leverage.’

  ‘No?’ He leant forward, his arms lying on either side of the table, the space between them negligible.

  Jess refused to budge. ‘It comes naturally, from finding someone you feel is someone you want to grow old with, have children with, who sees you like no one else sees you. And you want them to be with you, looking at you like that, for ever.’

  Calahan stared into her eyes, his gaze drifting down to her lips. ‘Right…Well, there is this woman—’ Calahan tore his attention away from her, jerked to his feet, and froze.

  ‘What?’ Jess looked up at the guy, her heart still thundering in her chest.

  ‘She’s here,’ he said casually.

  Jess turned in her seat, following Calahan’s gaze. The woman was all in white, from her heels and her designer suit to the pearls around her neck and at her ears. Her jet-black hair was coiled into a knot at her nape, her make-up was flawless, and her manner was all class—with a good deal of snobbery thrown in.

  ‘Nice,’ Jess offered, pushing her hair back from her face and smoothing down her shirt, trying not to think about the cold chill seeping into her body.

  ‘Natasha Bradford-Jones,’ Calahan murmured. ‘I’ve wanted her for as long as I can remember.’

  Jess swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘I take it she’s classy?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Why don’t you say hello?’ she said tightly, clearing her throat and trying to sound normal, despite the chaos inside her chest. ‘You’ve been doing wonderfully. You know how to be honest, and you’ve toned down the charm. Practise your new moves…’

  Jess bit her lip. Then she’d be able to rid herself of the stupid idea spinning in her head every time she looked at him.

  Calahan was her enemy, and he deserved a woman like Natasha as his wife.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he stated calmly, shaking his head and turning his attention back to Jess.

  ‘If she’s that special you will,’ she said, standing up beside him and giving him a shove in the back.

  He wasn’t for her—ever. No way. Not possible. It was better this way…

  ‘Come on—what’s to fear? You’re a wealthy businessman with a lot to offer…’ she urged, trying to get him to move.

  He stood on the spot, his gaze on Jess. ‘Like what?’

  She wet her lips. ‘Well, there’s limo rides, boat parties, your charm and your manners,’ she listed, trying not to smile at the irony of highlighting all the things she’d scoffed at and undermined.

  ‘Is that it?’ he asked softly. ‘Is that all I have to offer a woman?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she whispered softly, her voice failing her. ‘But I haven’t seen you with children or animals.’

  He smiled. ‘I like kids, and I have a dog named Pete.’

  She couldn’t help but smile back. She could imagine him with a dog, playing with a dog, something big and shaggy that looked up at him with the kind of adoration he seemed to get from everyone around him.

  She shook herself. So what if he had a dog that loved him? The only thing that mattered was getting him across the room, into Natasha’s arms and out of her hair.

  She looked up into his face. ‘You’re sweet and kind and you have a heart that’s just begging to love and be loved.’

  He nodded, his smile touching his eyes, making his lips even more kissable.

  She shoved him towards the woman on the other side of the restaurant. ‘Now, go and talk to her—let her see that despite your womanising ways you really do want more in your life, that she’s the one who has captured your heart and you’re willing to give up the bachelor life for her.’

  He moved hesitantly.

  She gave a punch in the air for encouragement, despite the ache in her chest. ‘You’re so ready.’

  ‘Yes.’ He straightened his silk tie, smoothed down the suit that hugged his wide shoulders.

  Jess sank back onto her seat, a smile creeping onto her face and a silky smooth satisfaction sliding over her, smothering the tossing bats in the pit of her belly and that ache in her chest.

  This was it. She was about to get rid of him. Miss Fancy Pants would fall for his charm, he’d think he was cured and she’d go home. Life would be normal again and she could go back to hating him.

  Or could she?

  Things would never be the same again.

  She held her breath and watched him, a shadow engulfing her from the inside.

  Her life was about to change again, and she didn’t know whether to be happy about it or not.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ALEX sauntered over to Natasha Bradford-Jones, counting the heartbeats in his chest, vividly aware of Jess watching him.

  This was surreal. He’d thought about this woman on and off for years, regretting his reluctance to offer his affections before he had something more substantial to offer her.

  Now all he could think about was Jess.

  She’d answered all his questions in the way he’d hoped—even found some merit in him for this encounter. But it wasn’t the thought that he could win Natasha that spun in his head; it was the lure of winning Jess’s heart.

  ‘Natasha?’ he offered, slipping his hands into his pockets and shrugging. He had to at least try this out, for Jess’s sake.

  She turned, her deep brown eyes flashing as they ran over him. ‘Yes?’

  He touched his chest, taking a deep breath and focusing on honesty, not his usual repertoire. ‘Alexander Calahan. We were in Business at Bond University together?’

  Her features lightened. ‘Yes. I remember you.’ Her thin pink lips stretched into a smile. ‘And I hear about you all the time.’

  ‘Oh?’ His gut tightened. In their circles gossip made the world go round, and he was sure his relationship attempts would make for good entertainment. ‘Good things, I hope?’

  She waved a hand dismissively. ‘Well, nice to see you.’

  He took a slow, deep breath. Not so good things, then. He swallowed the lump in his throat. Jess was right. Serious women looking for serious relationships weren’t going to consider a gamble like him. He’d have a lot of proving himself to do before any woman would take him as serious marriage material.

  What would it take to convince Jess?

  The sooner he changed his image, the better—and no better place and time than now. ‘I was wondering…I have a party on my boat on Saturday night, for a few clients and friends, and I’d love to see you there.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes.’ Alex held back the impulse to flatter and charm the woman.

  He glanced towards Jess as the silence stretched, the stark realisation of how little time he had left with her stabbing him right through the chest.

  Natasha touched her lips with a perfectly manicured fingernail. ‘Maybe.’

  ‘For old times’ sake?’ h
e offered warmly, trying to sound unconcerned. He shrugged, his mind spinning on the problem at hand. How was he going to get Jess to stay around? ‘I just thought it would be nice to catch up and get to know each other again, that’s all.’

  Jess needed assurance. She needed to know she wasn’t going to be hunted, caught and spat out. She wanted to feel safe. When she’d made up that boyfriend it had been because she wanted to feel safer.

  Desperation filled him.

  A crazy idea leapt into his head. He turned slightly and gestured to Jess behind his back. ‘I’d love to hear about what you’ve been doing over the years…have you been well?’

  ‘Yes,’ Natasha said warily.

  He could feel Jess behind him, could feel the warmth of her against his arm, could catch the softest hint of her perfume in the air. Could feel strength and confidence fill him, despite her obvious hesitation in being there.

  He turned to her, snagging her small hand in his and pulling her out from behind him. ‘Jess, I’d like you to meet an old and dear friend of mine from university.’

  Natasha’s eyes darted to Jess. ‘And this is—?’

  He could hear the assumption, the insinuation that she was just another one in the parade of women he marched through his life. Could see her cool perusal of Jess and her simple office attire, and the narrowed look as she realised the beauty and perfection in his companion.

  He slipped his hand around Jess’s waist, basking in the knowledge that for once in his life he was making the right decision. ‘She’s my girlfriend.’

  He could feel Jess stiffen beneath his touch. Could see Natasha’s chin lift slightly. Could see her processing the information…could see it made no difference to her attitude towards him.

  Would it make a difference to Jess? He wanted to slap himself on the head. Of course it wouldn’t. She needed something more solid, with more commitment, something that she would see as essential to the idea he’d changed.

  There was only one thing he could do. He needed a good cover story—to show he was in to commitment, to show Natasha he was serious and she wasn’t going to become just another notch on his bedhead. He needed drastic proof that he’d changed.