by Summers, Jo
Her heart lurched.
“Actually,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you about that.” Andi waited but he didn’t say anything more as they pulled onto the M8. It was a beautiful spring day, warmer than it had been since she’d arrived in Scotland, and she hoped he was taking her back to the set; she wanted to see the loch again and make some notes so she could beef up the descriptions in her new book. It was the story of Bjorn’s brother, so she knew readers would be eager to return to the Highlands, and they’d expect an even stronger book this time. She’d even brought her camera along today so she’d have several shots to pin up on her inspiration board at home.
Colin cleared his throat and glanced quickly at her before refocusing on the road. “I have a request to make, Andi.” He paused. “If you say no, I’ll understand, but know that if you say yes, you’ll be doing me a bigger favor than I could ever repay. I’ll owe you.”
“Okay, now you’re just making me nervous.”
“I don’t mean to do that at all. It’s just-”
Andi flailed her palms. “You’re making it worse. Just tell me what it is.”
“You’re sure you want to talk about this now? I was going to wait until we got to our stopping point and tell you then, but with the cameraman and all, it just seemed like as good a time as any to mention it.”
Her eyebrows furrowed and Colin looked over at her silence.
“Okay, then. Andi McKenna—I want you to pretend to be my fiancée.”
So many emotions hit her at once that Andi couldn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure if she was irritated or flattered or some combination of both; the only thing she could pinpoint was confusion. Colin kept driving, glancing at her every few seconds, the color rapidly draining from his face.
She thought back to their conversation a couple days ago at his condo when he’d mentioned his ex and wanting the paparazzi to stop badgering him after their breakup. Andi knew admittedly little about the situation; she really should have spent more time researching him, but the whirlwind of the past few days had pushed that to the very bottom of her priority list.
“I…I don’t really know what to say.”
Colin looked relieved that she was speaking again, but there were a hundred different emotions at war in his eyes, none of which Andi could translate. “Just say yes.”
Okay, now she was annoyed. “Just say yes?” she mimicked him. “Like it’s that simple to say yes to something so…crazy.”
“It’s not like that, Andi. It actually is very simple.”
Was he nuts?
“You couldn’t be more wrong. There are a lot of things to think about. I know it wouldn’t mean anything to you—” Colin cringed at her words —”but it would change my life entirely, at least for the duration of the fake engagement. Besides, I’m going home in a few days. How would we pull this off?” Her heart was beating rapidly now and a thousand questions flooded her mind.
“Basically, I would just have my agent leak a story to the press. You and I would stage a public proposal to make the situation believable, and then you’d go home as planned.”
She could only stare at him in disbelief as he explained.
“After a few months, I would inform the press that we called off the engagement. Chalk it up to the whole long distance thing—me in the UK, you in the US—by then, they’ll have lost interest.”
He gave her an apologetic look. “It helps that you’re not famous—at least not as an actress—I mean. I’m aware that your writing is well known, but a breakup with you wouldn’t cause more than moderate curiosity. And we’d let our families know our true intentions, of course. We can discuss the logistics further, if you agree,” he said, his tone calm and steady as he refocused his attention on the road.
Andi tried to slow her thoughts down so she could concentrate on one at a time and make sense of it all. She took her time, searching for a reason to say no, but really, what did she have to lose? A lot of women would love to prance around in the temporary fairy tale she’d just been offered, even if it didn’t include a castle or a prince or a happy ending. So why was she so hesitant?
She knew the answer the instant the question crossed her mind.
She hesitated because the cold hard truth was that she wanted the whole package. She wanted the prince and the happy ending. And a castle wouldn’t hurt either, for that matter. She’d settled for less than the real thing before, and it could break her to do it again.
And yet, she was starting to trust Colin, as rash as that might be, and from what he’d revealed of his character so far, she knew he wouldn’t intentionally expose her to any sort of harm. Though he would deny it, he was too good a person for that. He said he would owe her if she agreed to this charade, but she already owed him for showing her what it felt like to be desired, to feel pleasure. And for bringing her writing back to life.
Whether or not it was wrong, or stupid, or crazy, she knew what she wanted to do.
“Alright.”
“Is that a yes?” Colin pulled his sunglasses off and studied her face intently.
“Yes. That’s a yes. I’ll do it.”
A slow smile spread over his gorgeous face and even though she was technically the reason for its appearance, she knew it wasn’t real. She turned to the window and sighed.
None of this was real.
Chapter Ten
Colin turned the truck off the highway and continued down a winding dirt road toward his favorite spot at Loch Lomond.
He was relieved and pleased when Andi had agreed to his proposal—his fake proposal—but the look on her face had a stronger effect than he would have expected. She’d tried to arrange her features to hide it, but he’d seen the disappointment plain as day, and he hated the fact that he’d been the one to put it there. Seeing her like that had caused such instant, arresting pain that he’d almost retracted his words right after speaking them.
But he needed this; he needed her.
“Here we are, writer girl,” he said, injecting as much light into the words as he could. He realized something that had been building since the moment he’d met her only days ago—Andi’s happiness mattered a great deal to him. He would do everything in his power to make sure she wasn’t hurt by the game they were about to play.
“I thought you were taking me back to the set,” Andi said, staring out the window at the landscape. He could tell she was entranced, just as he’d been the first day of filming in the breathtaking Highlands. He’d fallen instantly in love with the rolling hills and the almost surreal freshness of the air, and the fact that when he’d had a rare moment of freedom from the twelve-hour workdays, he could jump on his bike and drive for miles, just taking in the endless green terrain and the picturesque castles.
“Nope. We’re spending the day together.”
“I see,” she said, finally turning to face him. Her unique beauty struck him again. She was such a contrast from the almost plastic women he worked with every day. He supposed they were pretty in their way—the media and the world certainly thought so—but he was quickly discovering that he preferred what might be referred to as Andi’s imperfections. He’d learned from being with her that she didn’t care for her curves, but to him they were far more enticing than the too thin actresses he’d grown used to in his profession.
He adored her body; it reminded him of the old black and white films he’d worshiped his entire life, and, he supposed, the fantasy they represented, in which men and women fell in love and lived happily for the remainder of their days. It made a glorious picture, but it was as unrealistic as the movies he starred in.
“You don’t sound pleased,” he said.
Andi gave him a hollow smile. “I am. Just a little tired after working this morning.”
“Ah. How’s the book coming?”
Andi clicked her tongue. “You, my friend, have obviously not spent sufficient time around authors.”
“Meaning –”
“Meaning that the one thin
g you never, ever ask an author is how’s the book coming.”
“Consider my wrist slapped, then. I promise not to bring it up again.”
She giggled, the sound of it lifting some of the weight off his shoulders. “It’s okay,” she said.
Colin gave her a smile and moved to open his door. Andi had already opened hers when he reached her side, so he wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her down from the truck’s height. “Careful, the ground’s a bit soggy.”
“I know. That stuff ruined my favorite purple boots when I came to visit you on set yesterday.”
He made a mental note of that as he released her, brushing a bit of hair out of her eyes.
“Actually,” she said, her blue eyes shining in the sliver of sunlight cutting through another gray day, stealing all clear thought from his brain, “It’s coming along very well.”
“Glad to hear it,” he said. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with our little visit to the shop yesterday, would it?”
She punched him gently in the side. “Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe I just had a stroke of luck and got my mojo back.”
“Because of me, of course,” he teased.
Andi leaned her head back and laughed, her open red lips setting off a chain reaction of stimulation that reached every corner of his body. “I suppose you can take a little bit of the credit.”
“A little,” he said, stretching an arm into the back of the truck to pull out the picnic supplies he’d packed. “I had you moaning like a porn star and you know it.”
Andi’s eyes widened and a flush of pink rose in her cheeks. She whacked him again, harder this time.
“Keep punching me like that and I’ll have to reprimand you,” he said, lifting a backpack, tarp, and thick blanket out of the back, draping the lot over his shoulders.
“Looking forward to it,” she said, raising her eyebrows.
“There’s my girl,” he said, wishing against his will that the words were true—that she really did belong to him.
He led her down a winding path to a spot he’d found near the water, surrounded by large rocks carpeted in moss. He loved the view here, several small islands dotting the water like a string of precious gems in an emerald bracelet, the sound of waves lapping against the shore in a kind of meditating chant. When they arrived, he worked on laying out the tarp and blanket and pulling food from his backpack while Andi took out a camera and her laptop and sat cross-legged on the soft plaid.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she said, pulling the computer out of its case.
“Don’t tell me you’re planning on getting more work done this afternoon.”
She looked up, her brows knit in feigned confusion. “Um, yeah, I was planning on it. I do have deadlines, you know. I don’t get paid to spend all my time dreaming stuff up—it actually has to get written down at some point.”
She smiled as he handed her one of the simple chicken salad sandwiches he’d packed, along with a glass of his favorite white wine. “Plus, since our little arrangement seems to be working, I have plenty to write about.”
Her statement about getting paid to write broke the heady spell she’d put him under. As much as he hated to ruin the fun he was having with her, it was time to talk business. “Can we discuss something, Andi?”
“Sure.” She stopped fiddling with her camera and gave him her full attention. Her eyes had gone from bright blue in the sun to a dark blend of indigo and gray, almost identical to the water.
“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page about the phony engagement.” The term felt strange and thick leaving his tongue.
She tugged at her sweater and the urge to touch her, to comfort her, consumed him. The more time he spent with Andi, the more difficult it became to be away for long.
After he’d dropped her off at her hotel the night before, he’d gone straight to the gym at the condo and sweated through miles on the treadmill and countless sets of weights until he’d been gasping for air. She was doing something to him that he knew he didn’t need, now or ever; all the same, he craved her presence like a drug.
Letting her in—really letting her in—simply wouldn’t do.
He needed to make sure the wall between them was thick and wide if this was going to work.
Andi took a sip of the delicious wine, letting delicate hints of lemon and green pear roll over her tongue as she steeled herself for whatever Colin might throw at her next.
She’d agreed to do this thing, and she wasn’t going back on her word, but she wished she had more time to…to talk to Lily, to prepare, whatever that would entail, to spend time with this man who had opened her up to a new world of possibility. She wanted more of him, but she knew better than anyone that wishing was a futile activity.
“Go on,” she said, setting down her empty glass, folding her hands in her lap and raising her chin to look him in the eye. She’d tried so very hard to convince herself that she didn’t want this man, but the walls she’d built to keep out men like Jared were crumbling fast around Colin.
If she was going to do this sham engagement, then she would give it all she had.
This was a chance to experience a total fantasy—an opportunity unlikely to present itself twice in a lifetime. Besides, it was only work. As a romance writer, it was her job to give women modern-day fairy tales, even if—for her—it wasn’t real.
Colin stopped busying himself with packing up their sandwich leftovers and moved nearer, sitting directly in front of her so that their faces were only inches apart. She struggled not to touch him, softened by the distant, enigmatic shade in his eyes.
“Look. I’m not the type of guy to propose fake engagements to strangers. I realize that the whole thing might get a little weird for you, once we put it out there. I just want to make sure that you’ll be okay. And I want you to know you can call it off at any time if it gets uncomfortable.”
Andi tried not to let him see that he’d stung her by calling her a stranger. Maybe it shouldn’t matter, but the things they’d done together, the things he’d done to her, meant they were anything but strangers. Perhaps it was just old-fashioned of her to want true love and not just sex. Perhaps she was nothing but a childish fool for going headfirst into this, knowing full well what it could cost her. It was a risk she had to take, or she’d regret it for the rest of her life, and she had enough regrets already. He was right about it being uncomfortable—just not in the way she’d imagined.
“You don’t have to explain any further, Colin –”
“Yes. I do. I owe you as much.”
Andi held up a palm to stop him from saying any more. “Stop saying you owe me something,” she blurted with more vehemence than she’d intended. “You don’t owe me anything.” She lowered her eyes and toyed with the camera strap. “The truth is…you’ve given me more than enough already.”
Colin opened his hands in the space between them. “I haven’t given you anything. At least not any more than this arrangement has the potential to take from you.”
She shook her head before forcing herself to look at him. “If that’s what you think, then you don’t understand.” She put her palms on his and he circled his fingers around her wrists. “You’ve helped my writing, and you’ve given me back my body, and my confidence.”
He studied her with a puzzled expression. “How do you mean?”
She’d promised herself she wouldn’t bring this up. Colin wasn’t interested and she wasn’t going to be that girl that spouted on and on about her pathetic history with men. “Never mind,” she said, focusing on the mossy boulder behind him. “It’s not important.”
He pulled her hands into a ball and wrapped his large ones around them. “It is important,” he said. “It’s important to me. You are important to me.”
Andi felt as though she’d fallen and had the wind knocked out of her, and Colin looked even more surprised at the words that had come out of his own mouth than she did.
“Don’t say things l
ike that. It just makes everything worse.”
He took a deep breath, as if carefully measuring his next words. “It matters to me that you know how I feel…that you know I’m not asking you to do this to hurt you, and I don’t take it lightly. I know it’s a lot to put someone through, especially when we barely know each other.”
She shrugged her shoulders, desperate to appear as nonchalant as possible. “It’s not that big of a deal, Colin. I’m a grown woman. I know what I’m getting into and I’m making a conscious, adult decision. You’re the one who told me not to overthink things, so now I’m giving you a dose of your own advice. Stop deliberating and just let it go. I know what I’m doing here, and it’s not going to hurt me.”
Her stomach dropped as the lie sunk in like lead. Not only was she lying to Colin, she was lying to herself as well if she thought she could pull this off without any lasting damage. But she couldn’t seem to stop herself. It was like being at the top hill of a roller coaster that she’d never wanted to ride in the first place—the only way to get off was to head spiraling down toward the end.
“Fine,” he said. “If it doesn’t mean anything, then tell me what happened to you. Tell me what he did to you.”
Colin’s demand caught her off guard and she paused to think a minute. She’d never spoken to anyone except Lily about her pitiful life with Jared, not because she was afraid, but because she was ashamed. It was too embarrassing to admit that she’d given herself to someone as terrible and damaging as Jared. She’d simply been tired of working so hard to still have nothing, and Jared, with his smooth words and enviable lifestyle, had presented what seemed like an easy way out. How could she admit that to Colin?
“It was just a bad relationship. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Colin didn’t seem satisfied with her explanation. “Come on, Andi. It was more than that. I can see it every time I touch you.”
She pulled her hands away from his.
