A sigh passed from her mouth into his, like a prayer she knew would be answered. By him. Charming and dangerous, he tempted her to believe him as no one had tempted her before. His hold slipped from her shoulders, slid down her arms and reasserted itself at her waist.
Her free hand clutched his shoulder and, beneath the fine cotton of his shirt, her palm moulded hard muscle, touched warm skin. She rose on her tiptoes, deepening the kiss.
His fingers slid over her silky dress, trailing warmth and igniting desire wherever they touched. Through the material, his hands shaped her bottom as though committing the feel of her to memory.
She wriggled against him to ease the sudden ache between her thighs. He tightened his grip on her hips and pulled her close against the ridge pressing against her stomach.
His tongue teased hers, traced the outline of her lips and then plunged deep.
Lost in the moment, she murmured against his lips. ‘Matt.’
He tensed and eased back; cool wind played over her skin where moments before she’d been on fire.
Like a slap to the face, she scrunched up her eyes. Embarrassment flushed her cheeks while a chill settled in her body. Was she so bad, so inexperienced that he’d pulled away from their kiss? Hardly daring to breathe, she bit down on her lip and reluctantly opened her eyes. Could the evening get any more humiliating?
He stood a metre away looking back to the shore, one hand in his pocket, the other running through his hair.
‘I’m sorry, Andie. I — didn’t mean to kiss you.’
Hurt, shame, embarrassment whirled through her. Of course he didn’t want to kiss her.
She couldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Doesn’t matter. It’s nothing. I should go.’
Anger filled his voice. ‘It matters. Dammit, I’m going about this all wrong. I jumped the gun. I meant to wait until after—’
‘Then you shouldn’t have kissed me. You kissed me.’ Her voice rose and she gripped the railing to steady herself. How much had her crazy deep kiss revealed her silly attraction to him?
‘I wanted to kiss you, just — not yet.’
‘For goodness sake, stop talking in riddles. You wanted to kiss me — but not yet. Tell me, when would be the appropriate time?’
‘After I’d told you — asked you.’
‘So help me, Mahoney, it’s not Lexie you should be worried about. It’s me.’
He threw his head back and laughed, a deep, rich sound that resonated all the way down to her toes. ‘Now that’s the Trouble I’ve been waiting for. The waif with the guts to tip her tray over me at a gala function. I knew she was in there just waiting to pop her head up.’
‘Why on earth would you want that person?’
‘Because she’s gutsy and goes after what she wants.’
‘Me, gutsy? And I thought I’d had too much wine.’
‘You’ve strength you haven’t learned you possess.’
Playful Matt was back and even more tempting than Wrong Matt and probably more dangerous.
She shook her head. ‘Now I know you’re crazy. Put me out of my misery and tell me. I’ve had enough of your smooth talking riddles.’
‘My blarney, you mean. Aye.’ He looked past her shoulder and, for a brief moment, she sensed he wasn’t with her but seeing some other place far away.
With a sigh his smile faded. He leaned on the railing and dragged a hand through his hair again. ‘I thought this would be easier to tell than it is.’
Her foot itched, wanting to stamp her impatience. ‘You haven’t told me anything yet.’
‘Aye. Well, the truth of it is I need a fiancée. Would you do me the honour?’
Andie gaped at him. She gripped the cold metal railing and drew in a deep breath of sea air. He’d just proposed?
‘Obviously I’ve had too much wine.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I thought you said you needed—’
‘A fiancée. I do. But don’t expect to hear me say those two words under other circumstances.’ He paused, clearly waiting for her response.
She laughed and cast a nervous glance toward the cabin. Where were the crew? ‘Either this is a joke or you’re mad. Why would I marry you? I don’t know you.’
Had she fallen down the rabbit hole between dessert and coming out on deck?
She tipped her head back and salt spray dampened her face. Beyond the expanse of the Great Southern Ocean, the Milky Way lay strewn along the sky like a path of opals. If she focussed on the densest mass of light on the left, she could almost imagine she was adrift beneath the Southern Cross, floating free of worries. And ridiculous proposals.
Did Mahoney have any concept of what he was asking?
Of course not. He’d taken leave of his senses. Stress had got to him.
Or Lexie’s threats.
‘Wow. I hadn’t pegged you as the marrying kind.’
‘I’m not. Don’t get me wrong, Trouble. I’m not asking you to actually marry me.’
‘But you just asked me—’
‘I need a fiancée, not a wife. This will be a short term mutually beneficial business arrangement.’
‘So — marry me, but don’t?’
She’d known Mahoney wanted more than just her company for dinner, but this proposition — correction, his proposal — made no sense. Her mind reeling at his audacity, his arrogance, her new-found sense of kindness toward him disappeared and frustration roared back, shoring up the cynical assessment she’d been right after all.
‘At most it’ll be for a couple of months. You can be going on with your work still.’
‘That’s big of you.’
‘What do you say, Andie? Will you be my temporary fiancée?’
‘Mahoney, that must be the most appalling proposal in history.’ She shook her head and leaned against the railing. A light salt spray dampened her skin as the wind changed direction. Matt leaned an elbow alongside hers. His features were in shadow. If only she could see his face more clearly so she could work out why he was playing this ridiculous charade.
‘Okay, so the asking lacked a little finesse I’ll grant you, but will you consider it? Please?’
‘Dare I say thanks but no thanks.’
‘I’ve made a hash of this. Let me explain.’
‘What for?’
‘So you’ll agree.’
‘Mahoney, you couldn’t give me enough wine to make me agree to such an absurd idea.’ She dropped onto the bench.
‘Would it help if I went down on one knee?’
‘Good grief — no!’ Although the image of him begging the honour of her hand was not unpleasant.
‘Listen, I’m not a man to talk of feelings, but maybe you need to know my reason. I grant it is an unusual request.’
‘It won’t change my answer.’
Though she’d admit — to herself only — she was curious. Why would a man with the sex appeal and power of Matthew Mahoney want her as his fiancée? Temporary fiancée, she amended. She folded her arms across her chest and he moved to join her.
‘Don’t waste your breath. The answer will still be no.’
He sat beside her on the narrow bench and she shuffled across to create a minute space between them. The length of his thigh brushed hers. Resting his elbows on his knees, he leaned forward and clasped his hands loosely together. Shoulders tense, his body language revealed a rare glimpse of vulnerability.
So the big man had a weak spot?
It tugged at her emotions in the way his infectious grin, disarming as it was, never would because it made him all too human. And needy. She’d always been a sucker for anyone in need.
‘You’re going to tell me anyway, aren’t you?’
‘You’ve a kind heart, Andie, and I’m appealing to it now. My mother still lives in Donegal. When I came to Australia she refused to come with me. She continues to refuse, even though she knows the climate’s better for her. Last night, she implied she’d visit — if I were to be getting married. Seems it would make her trip worthwhile.’
‘Wow. Let me see if I’ve got this right. You’ve asked me to marry you to get your mum to come to Australia?’
‘I’ve asked you to be my fiancée. I’ve no intention of marrying. But if the lure of a fiancée will get Ma on a plane, then I’ll supply one.’
‘You can’t con your mum into visiting you. You’ll be telling her a lie. Why would you do that?’
‘If it takes a lie to keep her alive I’ll tell a book full of them. You’d lie too, to help someone you loved. Your mother—’
‘My mum’s dead.’ She clenched her hands and hugged her arms more tightly around her waist. It still hurt to voice her loss. She swallowed the sadness that surfaced whenever her thoughts turned to her mother.
‘Monique—’
‘She’s my stepmother. Mum died at home giving birth to my brother when I was twelve. He didn’t live either.’
‘Andie, I’m sorry. I thought—’
They sat without speaking. Matt took hold of her clenched hand and smoothed his thumb across her knuckles. ‘Then you know it’s like dying within when you lose someone you love. Ma won’t last another winter in Donegal. I can’t let that happen to her. Please, Andie, help me?’
‘I won’t lie.’
‘You’re my only hope.’
Guilt knotted her stomach. She knew the sick feeling of watching the person she loved most in the world dying. Hadn’t she watched her mother die before her eyes while she waited for the ambulance? How could she refuse to help Matt?
But how could she live a lie?
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t.
‘I’m sorry. Really and truly sorry. But I can’t pretend to be what I’m not.’
Matt’s shoulders stiffened and his features froze into a mask that gave nothing away.
Until she looked into his eyes.
Ice-blue and distant, they failed to hide a pain she recognised, a pain so acute it hit her like a punch to her gut.
‘If it’s just a pretend fiancée you need, what about your friend, the model? Or any of the women you’ve dated? Anyone would be better than me.’
‘I have no particular liking for them beyond friendship and it would show. They, on the other hand, would try to turn it into the real thing.’
‘And you think I wouldn’t? Why did you ask me?’
‘Because you’re honest. You care about people. Ma will see that, and believe.’
***
The lie.
He’d figured that would be the stumbling block for Andie. How could he convince her this would work, that she had good reason to agree to be his fiancée? Reason? There had to be a reason for her to accept his offer.
Eejit! Where’s your brain gone? You offered nothing and asked her to lie. All mention of keeping The Shelter had disappeared at the first touch of her lips on his. He fisted his hands in his pockets and turned back to her.
‘I’ll make you a deal.’
‘Matt—’
He stopped her words with a finger to her lips.
‘Be my fiancée for a month, two at most — and I’ll not evict you.’
Pretence was an alien concept and Trouble was a hopeless liar. Torn between hope and desperation, her face mirrored his own chaotic desires. He didn’t know the deeper reason that connected her with The Shelter but she’d do just about anything to keep the families there safe and together. Enough to agree to his proposal?
At last, her frown smoothed into narrow-eyed assessment. ‘If I agree to be your — fiancée, you’ll let us stay?’
He nodded, hardly daring to breathe. Every fibre of his being willed her to agree to his ridiculous proposition.
‘What about the back rent?’
Take her agreement, don’t push the other now, his brain told him. But his body had other ideas and the words spilled from his lips before his brain caught them back. ‘I’ll forget it if—’
Her eyes widened. Hope, and the prospect of saving The Shelter, was winning the battle for him. ‘If what?’
‘If you’ll agree to my team beginning work on the renovations next week.’
‘But how…?’
Excitement infused his voice and he jumped in. ‘We can work around your families. If you can live mostly upstairs so my team can begin work on the reception rooms, it’s doable.’
Trouble nibbled on her bottom lip and then a spark of mischief lit her eyes as she tilted her head to the side.
His heart skipped a beat. The sea breeze dropped as if the universe held its breath along with him and he wished, like he’d never wished before. It was going to happen. Nerves stretched taut as piano wire, he waited on her reply.
‘Will you do the kitchen first?’
‘Anything. Yes. So you agree?’
Her tongue swept across her bottom lip. Slowly, she nodded. ‘All right.’
He reached for their glasses, handed one to Trouble then touched his to hers. ‘Cheers. Consider yourself engaged. To me.’
‘Just don’t blame me if your mum doesn’t believe it. I suck at pretending.’ She sipped her wine.
‘That’s true.’
She gasped, spluttered, took a panicky breath and quickly added, ‘Oh, that can’t be part of the deal.’
Why’d he not put his brain back into gear before agreeing with her? Of course she was a hopeless liar and she knew it. ‘Relax. You just do your best and leave the rest to me. It won’t be a problem, trust me.’
Andie shifted on the seat beside him. Her knee grazed his thigh and his muscles tightened at the contact. She drew a shaky breath, stood and walked to the railing. White-knuckled, she gripped the metal as though her life depended on not letting go and stared over the dancing waves. She understood it was only a pretend engagement. Was it desperation rather than nerves etching lines across her brow?
Engaged! His heart beat sped up and he swallowed a mouthful of wine, waiting for claustrophobia to set in. Being shackled, even temporarily, should have had him running far and fast. Instead, he wanted to pull her back beside him. Or across his lap.
Trouble and her tool belt. The image roared back into his mind. He drew a deep breath and wriggled to ease the sudden constriction of his jeans.
Being engaged to Trouble didn’t make him want to run. Far from it. But considering the way she clutched her glass, she just might.
He drained the rest of his wine and placed the empty glass beside hers. Heart thudding, he strolled across and leaned on the railing at her side, close but not touching her. ‘Andie? Are you okay?’
‘I can’t do this. She’ll know. Your mother — it’ll be so obvious we aren’t…we’re not…’
Slowly, boyo. Take it slowly. You can’t lose her now.
‘We aren’t what, Andie? Lovers?’
Moonlight played across her pale skin and rosy cheeks as she turned her startled eyes upon him.
‘We can fix that problem right now.’ He touched one shoulder and reached for the other to turn her toward him.
Like a skittish wild creature she jumped away. ‘What? Here? Now? You can’t.’
‘It seems to me you’re worrying over something a little practice will fix.’ He stepped closer.
Her eyes widened, dominating her heart-shaped face. ‘Practice at what?’ she whispered, staring at him as though he were a lion about to pounce.
‘Well, mavourneen, as you pointed out, we’re not lovers. But we can make it look like we are. You just have to look like you enjoy my touch.’ He ran his fingers lightly down her cheek and then gently slid one hand into her abundant curls. Beneath the weight of hair his fingers traced across warm, silken skin. His thumb settled on the pulse beneath her ear. It beat fast and furious and she stood still as a statue, poised to bolt.
Any moment now.
Deliberately he kept his voice low and soothing. ‘That’s not so bad now, is it?’
Mutely, she shook her head. Lips ripe for kissing parted innocently as the rhythm of the waves tipped them close together, inviting him to continue.
<
br /> He lowered his head until their lips touched, a bare coming together that stoked a desperate desire for more. Pliant lips, soft lips, lips waiting for his kisses. He pressed his lips firmly on hers.
With a sexy, low moan into his mouth, she accepted his kiss. Was it a prayer for escape or a plea for more?
Instinctively, he tightened his hold on her waist and her hands crept up his chest in tentative exploration. She paused at his nipples, and then brushed the hardening nubs beneath her fingers. Soft and slow, her touch was delicious torture. Much more of it and he’d not be able to stop himself taking more. Taking what he had no right to take from her. Swiftly he covered her small hand with his and stilled her exploration. Right over the ragged beating of his heart. Surely, she must feel what she did to him.
Lips trembling beneath his, inexpertly but sweetly, she leaned up and kissed him back.
Slowly does it.
Reining in his impatience to deepen the kiss further, he eased back and lightly kissed her temple. The scent of exotic flowers filled his senses and he paused, wanting to bury his face in her curls. The encounter hadn’t gone as he’d expected and he needed distance and time to calm his body’s response before they returned to the harbour. At least he was reassured Trouble — Andie, he reminded himself — was up for the physical pretence required by their deception.
But was he?
Reluctantly, he released her quivering body and gave himself room to think. Her eyes fluttered open, the pupils dark and unfocused and full of wonder — like a woman who’d been kissed for the first time. Of course that was impossible; she had a son. But the image persisted.
Horns sounded and the boat nudged the jetty. Back on land and into reality, he had phone calls to make and a renovation to organise. It was more than time to put this relationship back into perspective.
‘See, Trouble, it’s not so difficult. Now before Lexie comes hunting for me, I’d better get you home.’
She stiffened and the hurt in her voice stung him again. ‘No. Not difficult. It’s all just pretence after all.’
Trouble turned from him and walked into the cabin. He had to admit, even to himself he sounded off-hand. But there was no point letting it go any further tonight.
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