by Renee Roszel
She had opened her mouth to deny his suggestion that she’d been left alone to freeze, but his beguiling eyes and heart-stopping smile shut off her ability to speak. There was that tiny dimple beside his mouth, the one that used to set her heart to fluttering. Moonlight enhanced it and did flattering things .to his face. His plum eyes shone like pewter in this weak light, a sight to behold.
“‘Journeys end in lovers meeting.”’ He lifted her right hand and pressed a warm kiss on her knuckles. She shivered with the contact, her body fighting old needs, old longings. Then he deliberately lifted her left hand to inspect the ring, his glance narrowing. “I don’t think you’re as indifferent to me as you pretend, Lucy. When I touch you, you respond to me.” He bent to kiss her, but she managed to jump from her perch, taking an evasive side step.
“I’m just cold, Stadler,” she cried weakly. “Don’t assume anything so crazy.” It was hard getting words past the lump in her throat. She hated reacting to his nearness, but she couldn’t help herself. Old habits of loving someone seemed to be hard to kill off, no matter how badly they might need killing.
He smiled again, revealing that same damnable dimple. His eyes glittered seductively as they searched her apprehensive face. “Then why are you afraid of my kiss?”
“I’m not afraid!” she retorted, wishing it was true. “It’s—it’s just that I’m engaged! And so are you! To other people!”
He drew nearer. Taking her shoulders, he pulled her close, grazing her forehead with his lips. Her nostrils filled with his smell. How many times had she dreamed of this moment—of being alone with him again in the moonlight? She winced at the reminder, her emotions in chaos, part of her brain screaming for her to run away, another part slyly cajoling her to lean into him, to make things go back to the way they were.
But she couldn’t move either way. She was torn between right and wrong, fact and fiction. Which was which? What was right?
“I’d forgotten how beautiful you are,” he murmured. “I know I hurt you, pet, and I’m devastated for that. Can you forgive me?” He kissed her forehead again, this time a little lower, nearer the temple. Lucy had a feeling he was working his way toward her mouth and she panicked. What would happen when he got there? Did she dare allow him to kiss her on the lips?
She didn’t dare! She couldn’t! “I—I forgive you, Stadler. If that’s all, I think you should go.” Her voice was hardly more than a squeak.
He smiled down at her, the allure in his eyes taking away her breath. This time, his kiss grazed her cheek. Her stomach tightened with indecision. Did she want him to kiss her or didn’t she? “I think you still want me,” he coaxed, “and I know I want you.”
She gaped at him, speechless. What was he saying? Did he really want her back? Was he dumping the little mouse he’d dragged all the way to Missouri with him? Her brain was numb; she didn’t know how to react. “What—what are you saying, Stadler?”
He caressed her hair, and against her will she leaned into his touch. “I’m saying I don’t believe you sneaked around behind my back. It’s not like you. I think Jack is merely being protective. I don’t harbor any bad feelings toward either of you for your deception. I even understand why you did it. But I’m not a fool, Lucy.”
“Stadler...” She lost her voice. She was terribly confused. He was so near, wanting her again. But he wasn’t saying anything about breaking up with his current fiancée. She didn’t know what she was going to do—what she should do—not even if he begged her to marry him this minute. But she knew she owed it to herself to hear it from his own lips before she could make any decisions. “What about your fiancée. Stadler?”
He cupped her face between his hands, bending closer toward his ultimate objective. “Sareena isn’t a factor in this, Lucy. This is just between you and me.”
She blinked, bewildered. What did he mean? Somehow, it sounded as though he planned to have them both. Sareena as his wife and Lucy as his—his...
The notion stumbled and skidded around in her brain for a few seconds before the truth finally hit, and hit hard. Stadler was offering, her a sleazy backstreet affair!
Jack had told her Stadler’s ego was raging out of control, but she’d had no idea he was so egomaniacal as this. Anger billowed inside her. How dare he make such a slimy proposition? And how dare he not believe that she could attract a good-looking, dynamic man like Jack? That last insight really pricked her pride. Just as his lips were about to touch hers, she put her hands on his chest, bent on pushing him away.
The sound of swiftly advancing footfalls caught her attention, and she turned in time to see Jack stalking around the corner, his expression hostile. It was all too clear by the fire in his eyes that he’d heard everything.
When he reached Lucy and saw her wearing Stadler’s jacket, he slipped it off and thrust it into Stadler’s gut. “Careful where you put your—jacket—or you’ll be scratching around in the dirt for your pretty, capped teeth.” He settled Lucy’s coat around her, laying a sheltering arm on her shoulders before he confronted Stadler again.
The shorter man pulled up to his full height, looking like a belligerent bulldog. “Don’t think you can intimidate me, friend. You’re not engaged to Lucy and I know it. Do you think I’m a complete fool?”
Lucy was startled by Jack’s sarcastic chuckle. “If you want my personal opinion, friend, you’re the world’s biggest fool.” His voice had gone cold, and she could feel his rage pulsate through his body, experienced it in the tightening of his arm around her.
Somehow, his nearness made her mind clearer on what had just happened, and her animosity at what Stadler had suggested flared higher. There was something very reassuring about the fact that Jack’s anger matched hers—maybe even exceeded it. Grateful for his loyalty, she lifted a hand to place it over his and squeezed his knuckles.
“For your information,” Jack was saying, “Luce and I are getting married. Next week, as a matter of fact.”
She sucked in a breath. Surely she’d heard him wrong.
“Married?” Stadler repeated, sounding thunderstruck. “Next week?”
An ominous silence fell over them like a shroud, and Lucy felt faint. If Stadler had heard the exact same thing she had, then...
Stunned, she swung to look at Jack. His features were grim, his stare so threatening she was surprised that Stadler didn’t turn tail and run. She’d hardly ever seen Jack angry, and the lightning-bolt flashes in his eyes, the jerking muscle in his. cheek, were an awe-inspiring, intimidating sight.
Taking in every enraged signal he gave off, she scanned his features cautiously, trying to read his mind.
Marriage? Next week?
What in heaven’s name did Jack think he was doing?
CHAPTER FIVE
LUCY was running on pure adrenaline as she dragged Jack down the stairs into her basement bedroom. With the slamming of the door, she whirled to face him, her emotions so jumbled she couldn’t make them out. She was angry, yes. But at whom? Was she mad at Jack for making such a statement? Marriage? Next week?
Or was she angry at herself for nearly being drawn back into Stadler’s spell, nearly allowing herself to be kissed? She didn’t know, didn’t dare analyze her feelings. She didn’t want either to be true. She didn’t want to be angry, had spent her life smoothing everybody else’s feathers. So she just stood there, teeth clenched, glaring at Jack as he warily eyed her, waiting for the explosion.
“What are we going to do now?” she finally demanded.
His eyes narrowed at her angry tone, as though it pained him, but he didn’t speak, merely continued to lounge against the closed door, looking at her.
His lack of response and her panicked need to have this whole thing go away became too much for her to hold inside any longer. She marched up to him and punched his stomach. The contact was surprisingly hard and her knuckles stung. He grunted and winced, spreading a hand over the spot below his rib cage where she’d bashed him.
“Well?” she
ordered, near tears.
When she made a move to punch him again, he quickly closed his fingers over her fist and held tight. “Whoa, Luce.” He looked serious. “I’m thinking.”
Dismayed by his inadequate reply, she jerked her hand free and lifted it threateningly under his nose. “You’re thinking? I should pop you again, Jack Gallagher! You certainly weren’t thinking when you were making promises we can’t keep!”
Even though his demeanor was serious, his lips twitched at her threat. “Pop me, then,” he said. “I deserve it.” He cocked his head, angling it for her to take a shot at his face. “I got mad and I said something I shouldn’t have. So hit me.” He pointed to his right eye. “Hard. Right there. Like when we were kids.”
Startled by his offhand concession, she reared back with her fist, her anger blazing. But when actually faced with the reality of slugging Jack in the eye, she couldn’t do it. She’d never hit anyone in her life before—well, except for Jack. She’d slugged him once. Blacked his eye. But she’d been a child then. She was a grown-up now and she wasn’t a violent person. Besides, hitting a man who was aiming his eye right at you didn’t seem very sporting. Frustration overwhelmed her and she spun away. Running to her bed, she spilled across it, unable to hold back a sob.
The mattress dipped when Jack sat down. She felt his hand on her hair, brushing it, smoothing it. “This was worse, huh?” he asked. “Worse than when we were kids and I dragged you off the ladder before you could rescue Helen’s cat from the roof? You took a swing at me that almost knocked my lights out.”
She gritted her teeth and wiped at her eyes. She remembered. Helen had been crying, hysterical that her cat was in danger. Elissa was having a yelling fit, telling Lucy she was going to get killed. And since the redhead wasn’t much bigger than her sister, she couldn’t forcibly keep Lucy from going up the ladder. So, instead, she ran to fetch Jack.
Lucy supposed he’d done the right thing—that time. But that situation was totally different. Though she trembled with the urge to shout that at him, she didn’t respond. Couldn’t trust her voice.
“Lucky your dad got home then and rescued Pumpkin—and me.” Jack stroked her hair. “I had to drag you out of there because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
“Go away, Jack!”
“Don’t you see, Luce? I had to do the same thing with Stadler.” His hand stilled at her nape, lingered for a few seconds, then lifted away. “Admit it.” His voice changed, hardened. “You were going to kiss that ass.”
“I was not!” She rolled over to glare at him, swiping at her tears. He frowned at her, his eyes glimmering with a mixture of doubt and anger. For some reason, she couldn’t meet that gaze and shifted to stare at the ceiling. “Well—I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have.” She gulped, feeling a tiny bit guilty and not sure why. “Anyway, it’s no big deal. What’s one kiss?”
She heard him mutter an oath and couldn’t help but look at him. He pushed a hand through his hair, mussing it. “It wouldn’t have stopped at one kiss, Luce, and you know it. The man still has an effect on you.”
Her cheeks heated. She supposed there was a grain of truth to his statement. “What if he does?” She glared her defiance. “What difference would it make?”
His eyebrows dipped and his lips opened slightly. He looked as though he’d been punched again, but this time by a more powerful fist than hers. “What difference?” His tone was incredulous. “Hell, Luce, do you have any idea what it’s like to love someone when that person loves someone else? Trust me. It’s not a good way to live. I don’t want that for you.”
Confused by the harsh emotion in his features and his voice, she pushed up on her elbows, glowering at him. “Oh, Jack, what would you know about loving someone who didn’t love you back?”
He had shifted his gaze away, but with her cynical question he pinned her with solemn eyes. “What would ‘I know?” His lips curved in an ironic smile. “You don’t believe in my thirty-three years I haven’t run across somebody I can’t have?”
“No.” She sat up, sweeping her hair back. “I can’t imagine it.” She felt less angry now, more curious. She didn’t think anybody on earth could find Jack wanting, once they got to know him. “Who is this demented woman who loves some other man more than you?” She scooted on the bed to lean against the wall. Clasping her hands in her lap, she was ready to listen. “Give me her number. I’ll have a talk with her.”
He smiled, though his eyes seemed sad. “Someday, maybe we can discuss it. But right now, we have a bigger problem.”
She sucked in a hoarse breath at the reminder, and depression engulfed her again. “That’s putting it mildly, Mr. Fix-it.” She closed her eyes and lolled her head back in dejection. “If we don’t get Stadler to leave before next Saturday, we may have to get married.” She nudged him with her foot. “Maybe we should have a big fight and break up.”
He put a hand on her tennis shoe, drawing her gaze. “He’d know it was a sham.”
“So?” The word held a note of hysteria. “Maybe that’s for the best”
He eyed her with intense frustration. “You really want to be that slimeball’s mistress?” His tone was so fierce that a woman who didn’t know him as well as she did might have cowered in fright She felt pressure build on her shoe and pulled out of his grasp to indicate that he was hurting her.
They exchanged hard looks for a. long time while Lucy fought a battle in her head—a battle between right and wrong. Pro and con. Her emotions screamed, This thing between Stadler and me isn’t Jack’s business! Maybe I want my ex-fiancé back on any terms! Her intellect intruded, clamoring back, How dare Jack even ask such a stupid question,! The last thing on earth I want is to be any man’s mistress! A clear, vivid picture of sneaking around to meet Stadler in cheap motels filled her brain, disgusting her, making her sick to her stomach. That was no life. Jack was right about that.
Finally, her good sense won out and she slowly shook her head. “No—no, I don’t want that,” she admitted: “In my mind—when I let myself think about it rationally—I know he’s a jerk and I don’t want him back. But...”
Jack cleared his throat and moved across the bed to sit beside her, settling against the wall. “Yeah, I know.”
She turned to look at him, then poked his arm with her elbow. “Right. That stupid girl who doesn’t love you.”
He shifted toward her, his mouth softening in the bare beginnings of a smile. “You think she’s stupid?”
Lucy shrugged. “Has to be.”
He chuckled, but the sound lacked validity. Leaning his head against the wall, he stared straight ahead. “What if we got married?”
She squinted at him. “Who? You and Miss Stupid?”
“No.” Reaching across her, he lifted her left hand so that she could see the twinkling engagement ring. “You and I.”
Pulling from his touch, she drew up on her knees to stare, wide-eyed, at him. “Have—have you lost your mind?”
The silence that followed buzzed in her ears like a persistent gnat, battering her already frayed nerves. Finally, he half smiled. “I don’t think that’s one of the top ten answers a man hopes for when he proposes to a woman.”
She could only stare.
He shrugged at her lack of response. “Okay, maybe I don’t mean a real marriage. We can fake that, too. Have a little ceremony here in the inn. Get somebody to pretend to be a minister.”
She blinked. What language was he speaking? Nothing he was saying made sense. Feeling weak, she sank to the bed.
“Luce? Are you okay?”
She attempted a dry swallow, then shook her head. “I—I thought you said we could fake a marriage.”
“Only if we can’t get Stadler to leave first.”
So he really had suggested a fake marriage. She was too shocked to move for nearly a whole minute. She just gawked at him as he lounged there on her bed, a very large, very arresting presence in her small, drab room.
“Next Saturday nig
ht, then? You and me—holy wedlock?” His grin was crooked, teasing.
Dread slithered across her flesh at the idea of going through with such a colossal lie. Her chagrin must have shown in her expression, for his smile died and he frowned. Leaning toward her, he took her hands, but she shied away.
“Damn,” he muttered. “Don’t hate me, Luce.”
A strange fog seemed to have engulfed her brain. She didn’t know what she felt. The world had become an unstable place she no longer recognized. The man she’d been engaged to for two years was suddenly engaged to someone else, yet he was here, propositioning her. And this man, Jack Gallagher, was a man she’d known and loved for over fifteen years—like family. But suddenly he was her fake fiancé, whose erotic kiss she was trying hard to forget and who had just announced their wedding date. Next week. She didn’t know what was real anymore, and what wasn’t.
One thing she was sure of—deep down—and that was that she felt no hatred in her heart for Jack. She hated the lies and the pretenses, but not the man. Averting her gaze, she shook her head, conceding through a sigh, “I could never hate you, Jack.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said softly.
With her head down, she gazed up at him through her lashes. He was smiling at her, and even in her despair her spirits lifted at the sight.
“Look at the bright side,” he said. “Maybe Stadler will be abducted by aliens between now and Saturday.”
Lucy cast him a dark look. “How can you joke?”
She started to get off the bed, but he took her wrist. “Wait.”
She turned back, suspicious, almost fearful of what was coming. She didn’t know what to expect from Jack anymore. He’d been behaving differently in the past few days. Apprehensive, she didn’t pull free, but went rigid, instead. Though his hold on her wrist was gentle, he effectively held her captive. What was he up to now?
He reached into his trouser pocket and drew out a small box. “I never gave you your birthday present.”
