The Fiancee Charade

by Darcy Maguire

  Alex’s body heated. He moved to the door. ‘This could all be just a strange coincidence.’

  Lucas followed. ‘She didn’t tell you that she worked in the business?’

  ‘She did, I think…’ Alex strode back to the desk and snatched up the fax. ‘I’ll need that.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  Alex lifted his chin, moving back to the door, fighting a smile. ‘I’m going to visit my bride.’

  And find out the truth.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  JESS pulled her dressing gown close around her and dropped into the cushions on a wicker chair, staring around her apartment, listening to Calahan’s messages—one after another after another.

  Despite how many knick-knacks and colourful paintings she’d collected, she couldn’t get the warmth she was after into the room.

  The old teak pieces were individual and unique. The soft yellow walls contrasted nicely with the vibrant paintings. But Calahan’s voice pervaded, his energy and persistence sending chills through her chest.

  How could he so calmly assume she was going to play the part? Had he seen in her eyes the weakness she had for him? Did he know that his charms weren’t crashing into stone, but into a living, breathing human being just wanting to feel again?

  Jess held her arms around herself. Gawd, she was feeling too much!

  ‘Mr Darcy?’ she called softly.

  Her jet-black cat strolled into the room, moving without hurrying, calm assurance in every step—like Calahan.

  She picked him up and cradled him against her chest, sinking her face into his back. ‘You’re the only male I understand—you know that?’

  She leant back and closed her eyes. How could she possibly endure any more time around Calahan without driving herself insane? And as his fiancée? Pure and utter madness!

  It was bad enough trying to coach the guy, but to pretend to be his girlfriend? She couldn’t.

  Nothing was worth putting herself on the line like that. She stared at the cornice, biting her lip.

  Finding recognition in her father’s eyes was the most important thing in her life, but surely she didn’t have to get that close to Calahan to do it.

  The chances of her picking up inside tips had been a long shot, and it was an even longer one to think she’d get enough tips to make up for the time she’d put up with him today. Why did she think any more time was going to help…?

  She’d tell Kath tomorrow…

  Dammit, she had to say no, and then she wouldn’t have to see the man ever again…

  Jess held Mr Darcy tighter still. It wasn’t as if it mattered if she never saw Alex Calahan again. Sure, she was turned on by the guy, but it didn’t mean anything other than it’d been too long since her last real kiss.

  What Calahan was going to do, she didn’t know or care. The big lesson was honesty…he’d have to be honest to that woman if there was ever going to be the hope of them having a relationship together.

  Natasha and Alex…She closed her eyes, an ache tearing through her body. No. She wouldn’t go there. There wasn’t any point. If that was the woman he wanted, she was fine with it.

  He was nothing to her.

  No way could she trust any man ever again—especially a man like him, a womaniser just like Dean.

  Dean Pearce had seemed perfect in every way for her. He knew how to romance a girl, how to soften a girl’s heart and show her a good time.

  He’d remembered anniversaries, birthdays and even Valentine’s Day. Sure, he’d always been busy on cases that had kept him away from her nearly every weekend and most holidays, but she had been content.

  It had only been when she’d started talking commitment, moving in and sharing a life that things had started to go wrong.

  He’d missed dates, hadn’t returned calls, his wonderful surprises and warm gifts had become few and far between.

  She hadn’t known what she’d done wrong. They’d been together for nearly two years. Sure, she’d been busy with her business with Kath, but she’d always managed to rearrange her schedule to fit in with his.

  Months of uncertainty had taken their toll. She hadn’t been able to sleep, had barely eaten with not knowing why he didn’t seem to love her any more.

  Then she’d seen him with another woman and what was left of her hopes and dreams had shattered. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to confront him right there in the restaurant so she’d followed them, then followed him, and had found he went home to yet another woman.

  How many he had, she didn’t know…she didn’t want to know. She’d seen enough. She was nothing to him.

  She’d loved a man who could never really be hers. He belonged to another, maybe several others, was driven to womanise to get the most out of what was offered.

  She’d been conned, manipulated and used for a good time. She hadn’t been enough for him…

  If there had really been an organisation against womanisers she would have joined. She’d been one prize idiot. But there was no way she was going to fall for any man again—not without knowing everything about him and making darned sure he was an honest, worthy man.

  She wouldn’t be stupid enough to be used and discarded ever again. The crack in her heart still ached; pain still clawed at the back of her throat when she went past their favourite restaurant, still stung her eyes when she heard a song that they’d slow danced to. All the time she had been giving her all; all the time he’d been taking it all.

  The doorbell chimed, echoing through her apartment.

  Jess stood up, taking Mr Darcy with her, cradled in her arms. Was it Kath, coming to convince her to do the impossible? To put the case to her again in the hope she’d sacrifice what was left of her dignity?

  She pulled open the door. ‘There’s nothing you can say that can sway me—’ The words snagged in her throat, threatening to choke her.

  Calahan stood on her doorstep in a black dinner suit, wearing a deep sapphire-blue tie that drew her attention directly to his eyes.

  ‘Really? Sounds like a challenge to me.’

  Her senses spun. ‘Calahan.’

  ‘Jess,’ he said softly, running his gaze down over her bathrobe and the black cat. Her hair was pulled back, the wisps of her long fringe damp from her bath. ‘You probably should start calling me by my first name, seeing as we’re engaged and all.’

  She swallowed. ‘Only in your delusions.’

  ‘I’d love to discuss this standing on your doorstep, but I’m afraid of what your neighbours may think of your chastising me.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘They’d probably think that you deserve it.’

  ‘And that you require a wide berth.’

  She glared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Calahan in her home? The thought was ludicrous, the reality daunting.

  Could she trust him? Could she trust herself? He looked incredible, and every part of her yearned for a man’s touch. What had happened to her vow of abstinence?

  He met her gaze, unflinching, unmoved by her hesitation, her argument, everything—as though he was quite content to stand at her front door all night.

  She clenched her hands by her sides.

  ‘Fine,’ she rushed, stepping back and letting his formidable height and presence into her home. ‘But make it quick.’

  ‘You’re busy?’

  ‘Extremely.’

  Calahan sauntered into her lounge area, flicking open his suit jacket and dropping into her favoured seat by the window. ‘So, we have a lot to talk about.’

  ‘We do? I think as far as I’m concerned the only thing I’m interested in is the remuneration you offered this morning, for a day’s worth of advice.’

  ‘You left at lunchtime,’ he offered, his gaze slowly drifting from the coffee table, littered with the latest women’s magazines and a couple of issues of Home Beautiful, to the floral pillows arranged on the sofa.

  Was he trying to get out of paying her? The nerve of the man. ‘It was a late
lunch.’

  ‘Anyway, that’s not the issue,’ he said slowly, surveying the room, taking in what Jess was keenly aware was a far too feminine, far too ‘single-independent’s’ apartment.

  There wasn’t a trace of a man in her place. She’d gone to great pains to rid herself of every memory of Dean. There was nothing to suggest the sorry history she’d had with that man in her life, just the sad overuse of pastels and florals of an unrequited romantic.

  ‘My main focus right now is you.’

  ‘Me?’ she whispered, a shiver racing down her spine. She stepped back, holding Mr Darcy tighter to her chest. He squirmed, leaping from her arms and leaving her alone.

  ‘I need you,’ Calahan said, his voice soft and deep.

  She swallowed hard, moistening her lips. ‘Me?’ She pulled her bathrobe tighter around herself and looked towards the door, then back to the man she’d let in.

  Calahan’s gaze drifted to her mouth, his eyes sparkling with promises that her body was deliciously, traitorously considering. ‘You. I need you to come out with me tonight, be with me for the next few days—show Sydney that I’ve found my true love.’

  She looked away, straightening the cushions on the lounge, her cheeks burning with fire. ‘You have?’

  ‘Sure. At least for a couple of weeks—until you break my heart,’ he said slowly, his gaze not leaving her.

  She blinked. ‘Of course.’ What else would she have expected from the guy? It wasn’t as if her day with him would have him changing his ways, have him falling for her…

  She caught herself. Cripes, she didn’t want him to fall in love with her anyway—although it would be an added victory to break his heart as well as his business. But somehow the thrill she’d used to have at the thought was doused by the knowledge that he was just like everyone else. Trying hard to make his life mean something.

  She lifted her chin. He meant nothing to her. All he was to her was a catalyst for her to have started thinking about love again. It didn’t mean anything.

  So she was a romantic. She wanted what her parents had enjoyed until her mother’s illness—wanted castles in the air, roses on her pillow, whispered secret somethings, a togetherness and a sharing that she could only dream about.

  ‘As I said earlier today,’ she said strongly, ‘I want nothing to do with lying to anyone, let alone some poor woman that you’ve decided fits some imaginary criteria that you’ve concocted for your perfect mate.’

  ‘You sound like a saint…don’t you ever lie?’

  Jess punched a pillow and fluffed it up. ‘When the occasion calls for it.’

  ‘I think this one does. Perhaps you could consider it as running a test sample.’ Calahan leant back in the seat and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘We get around town as a couple, people see the product in a new way, and voilà.’

  She shook her head.

  He rubbed his chin, his eyes narrowing. ‘I know it’ll be boring hanging out with me. It’ll mostly be business clients and parties. But I’ll make it worth your while.’

  Jess’s heart skipped a beat. Parties? Clients? Of course he’d be out with them. Work hours were for the mechanics of running a business, while after hours were for entertaining clients.

  She bit her lip. Kath’s words came to mind, torturing her with possibilities for their business that they’d only dreamed about, tantalising her with how her dad would react to them building a company to rival Calahan, the man who had driven him out of work.

  ‘I’ll even throw in a free wardrobe to suit the occasion,’ he murmured, his voice deep and dangerous.

  ‘I have clothes.’

  He gestured towards her bedroom. ‘Then get into something. We’re going out.’

  ‘I haven’t said yes,’ she said slowly, warring with herself. She wanted respect in her father’s eyes, but at what cost? She didn’t want to hurt anyone…

  ‘You know you’re going to,’ he said, his voice warm and his eyes sparkling with promises.

  She opened her mouth and closed it. What was she waiting for? He was handing her everything she wanted on a platter.

  Her chest tightened. There had to be a catch.

  ‘Something black and sexy would be nice.’

  Jess raised her eyebrows, but couldn’t get the malice churning inside her. Dammit, she liked the guy! Truly liked the man, despite his obvious flaws, but she knew she’d be setting herself up for disappointment.

  ‘I can’t keep my guests waiting,’ Alex stated, looking at her as though confused by her hesitation.

  Jess stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Gawd, she’d had enough of the guy for one day, let alone another dose tonight. And in that sexy suit he looked even more dangerous than ever.

  She wouldn’t have the strength to resist.

  Sure, she could find out which big companies he was chasing, but not at the cost of her body, which felt more than willing to give itself to him for the ride of its life. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Calahan. As I said before, I’m busy tonight.’

  He glanced around him, frowning.

  Jess held her tongue, not offering an explanation. She knew there wasn’t any argument that could withstand his determination or her lack of will when it came to enjoying his hands and lips.

  Alex stood up and smoothed down his trousers, adjusting his belt and tie. His gaze on her was assessing, as though he was trying to look into her very soul. ‘I’ll concede only if you promise to play the part of my fiancée for the next three weeks.’

  She bit her bottom lip. How could she? She could barely cope with him in the room with her…and it could only end in pain.

  He didn’t want her; he wanted Natasha. She lifted her chin. And that was fine by her…

  ‘Please?’ he offered, his voice deep and smooth, taking up her hands in his large warm ones. ‘Please help me.’

  She shook her head. She couldn’t. She was far too vulnerable to his charms, to his stormy looks, to his kisses.

  ‘I promise to listen to your advice earnestly.’

  ‘I don’t know…’ She bit her lip. She needed more time to work out this dilemma in her head—and her heart. ‘I’ll give you until Saturday to prove to me that you’re trying to change your womanising ways.’

  ‘Deal.’ He looked down at their hands, entwined. ‘How about you come to the party on my boat Saturday night?’

  ‘Sure. I could manage that.’

  And then she’d end it. She would have seen sense by then, got over this crush on Alex and got some names for Kath.

  She’d do the fiancée-thing, like he wanted, enjoy the public fight with Alex and then get on with her own life. And it would all be over.

  Life would be normal again.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘WHAT the hell am I meant to do?’ Jess slammed the paper down in front of Kath, the print still bouncing around in her mind.

  Kath looked up from her desk. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Our engagement announcement,’ Jess said dully, the words hardly registering with her brain. ‘In today’s paper—bold as brass and hard to miss.’

  ‘Well, didn’t you agree to play his bride yesterday?’

  ‘Yes. No.’ She flopped down into the seat opposite the desk. ‘I agreed to a trial run. Now everyone is going to know that I’m engaged to the biggest womaniser in the city.’

  Kath shrugged. ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘I don’t believe this guy. He says and does things that just astound me. Why go ahead with this?’ She stabbed at the paper. ‘I’ve made it clear that I’m not convinced he’s genuinely trying to change. I don’t get it.’

  Kath took a gulp of the coffee she had on the edge of her desk. ‘He’s rich, and used to getting what he wants the way he wants it.’

  ‘Well, he’s in for a big surprise, because after that party I’m out. After I’ve got a couple of names I’m quitting, regardless of what breaking up with the guy two days after the engagement notice comes out does to his precious new image.’


  ‘Good on you.’

  She sagged. ‘Then why do I feel such a heel?’

  ‘It’s not your fault that the man is a compulsive liar who has backed himself into a corner with the wrong woman by his side.’

  She jerked her chin up. ‘I’m the wrong woman?’

  ‘Of course you are,’ Kath said easily, shooting her a grin. ‘You’re a hellcat, not a kitten.’

  Jess nodded. Kath was right. Alex was thinking she was just another one of his bimbo fan club, willing to do anything for a scrap of his attention. Well, he’d got it wrong.

  ‘You do hate this guy, right?’

  ‘Sure I do.’ But she also liked him, and wanted his hands all over her. But that didn’t change anything.

  Kath picked up her pen and looked at the papers in front of her. ‘Then what have you got to worry about?’

  Jess shook her head and strolled out of Kath’s office and down the stairs. She needed something stronger than a coffee and a gingersnap biscuit to get her through the morning.

  She strode out into the bright sunshine, swinging towards the café on the corner. This sort of problem called for Death by chocolate mud cake. There was no other way to go…nothing else but indecently rich cake covered in creamy icing with a spoon of ice-cream and a large dollop of cream was going to dull her senses and fill the need that ached deep inside her.

  ‘Jess?’

  Alex Calahan’s deep, smooth voice hit her full force. Him? Here? No way. If he knew where she worked and what she did…

  She swung round, her body tight. ‘Yes?’ she offered, praying she sounded as innocent as she should be, and crossing her fingers and toes mentally.

  He smiled.

  She melted.

  ‘So this is where you work?’ He looked up at the building she’d come out of.

  She nodded tightly, her breath stuck in her lungs. He was looking far too cheerful to be meeting the enemy. Did that mean he didn’t know? Or he knew and was about to eat her alive?

  Alex slipped his hands into his trouser pockets, his gaze on her face. ‘I’m not familiar with Kingston & Co. What do you do?’