Let's Pretend (Romantic Comedy, Contemporary, Second Chance, Sensual)

by DeVere, Monique

  He didn’t resent her job—at least not to begin with. She was a great A&E trauma surgeon and had put together more accident victims than he cared to count. She’d been the surgeon on duty when one of his men had needed immediate lifesaving surgery, after a near-fatal injury while fighting a house fire.

  It was after that that Belle started to change toward him. Luc didn’t feel he had much of a choice when she finally asked for a divorce. He’d rather release her from their vows than risk the kind of marriage his parents had.

  Those two hated each other. Had only stayed together for his sake, and by the time he went off to university, they could barely hide their loathing for one another.

  He couldn’t bear for Belle to hate him. She needed him, and he’d be there for her. He’d go along with her pretence. She didn’t realise it, but she’d just handed him the perfect opportunity to remind her of the love they’d once shared—to show her how much he still loved her.

  “Okay,” he said, sliding his hand from her back to her shoulder, drawing her close to his side. “I’ll do it.”

  Belle turned her grateful gaze on him. Gratitude wasn’t what he wanted to see reflected in her blue eyes. He would’ve given anything to get a glimpse of the passion he’d seen just after she’d planted that all-fire kiss on him.

  “Oh, Luc, thank you.” Belle reached up and kissed his cheek.

  Talk about lukewarm gratitude. No time to start on his plan like the present. Belle hadn’t yet applied for the decree absolute. He still had time to change her mind about filing. To his way of thinking, three days wasn’t a lot of time, and wasting even a second could be detrimental to him winning back Belle’s love.

  He lowered his head, intent on covering her lips with his.

  Belle leaped off the bed so fast she nearly lost her footing. “What are you doing?”

  He grinned. “Sealing our agreement with a kiss.”

  She wagged a finger at him. “There’ll be none of that. Let’s get ground rules ironed out straight away. All displays of affection are to be kept strictly public. Behind closed doors, we’re still a couple well and truly divorced.”

  He was afraid she’d say that, but he couldn’t stop grinning, and when she frowned at him and slid her palms down her slim jean-clad legs, he figured he’d share the part of her impulsive plan she clearly hadn’t thought of. “That’s a tall order, Belle. You’re asking me to test my restraint beyond limits when we have to share a room.” He patted the bed while waggling his brows at her.

  Momentarily horrified, she looked from him to the bed, back to him, then the door. “Drat, I completely forgot about that.” Her gaze narrowed. “You can take that smug look off your face, because I have news for you.” She turned to the cupboard behind her. Pulling open the double doors, she reached into the walk-in wardrobe and fought a metal object out from against the back wall. Giving a triumphant grin, she unfolded the narrow foldout bed. “Ta-daa,” she sang. “You get to sleep on this!”

  Why couldn’t he have fallen in love with a bimbo instead of a gorgeous surgeon with a genius IQ? One look at the flimsy little bed, and Luc knew it’d never hold up under his weight—in fact, he intended to make sure it didn’t. Once it crashed to the floor with him on it, her caring nature and a bit of guilt would ensure she let him into her bed. Of course, she’d make him sleep on top of the covers, with every pillow in the house between them. But at least he’d be where he longed to be—in bed next to his wife.

  “Fine.” He gave his best impression of acquiescence. “But you might want to tuck it back into the cupboard in case one of your relatives comes in and sees it. You wouldn’t want to risk Gran noticing we aren’t sleeping together.”

  The word “sleeping” seemed to echo around the bright room with innuendo. Belle must have detected it also, because she blushed and dropped her gaze. Luc noticed the slight tremor in her hands as she wrestled the bed back into the cupboard. He should have helped, but the sight of her neat butt pressed against the seat of her jeans as she bent over the metal object had his mind drifting in directions that had more to do with lying on the bed than hiding it away.

  After her exertion, she closed the doors and turned back to face him. Luc cleared his throat and didn’t bother to hide his appreciation of her chest rising and falling under her white, close-fitting tank top.

  She leaned back against the doors and folded her arms. “This is not a game, Luc. I truly appreciate your help, but please don’t get any ideas.”

  Too late.

  He nodded, schooled his features into a serious expression. “Understood. However, I haven’t told you my conditions for going along with your plan—yet.”

  “You have conditions?” Speculation entered her eyes, and she tightened her mouth. “I would’ve never believed you capable of using vulnerability to your advantage, Luc. If you’re asking me to have sex with you in exchange for your help, you can just forget it. I’d rather go out there, tell everyone we’re done, then deal with the consequences.” Her sandy blonde curls, scraped into a ponytail, swished back and forth with her angry movements as she jabbed a finger toward the door.

  “Stop jumping to assumptions, Belle. You have no idea what I’m about to say. But since you put the idea of sex in my mind...”

  She gave him a murderous glare.

  He laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. No sex.” He stood and closed the space between them, much in the same way he wanted to shut the void that had developed between them over a year ago. “But you have to promise me we’ll talk about what is really going on with us. I want the real reason you filed for divorce. Because it has got to be more than me missing the hospital’s fundraiser dinner, Dr. Murphy.”

  ~*~

  BELLE SIDLED away from Luc, needing to get some distance and with it, perspective. He’d never bothered to ask for a reason before. She’d expected him to challenge her decision, and when he’d simply accepted her announcement that their relationship was over, she’d been both shocked and relieved. The last thing Belle wanted was to rehash old hurts and fears. Luc would never understand the crippling dread that held her hostage.

  “Fine, we’ll talk...after you help me.” Belle set a path to the bedroom door. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, she turned to find Luc staring at her with a contemplative expression. “Coming?”

  Finally, after a good thirty seconds, he strode toward her. He nodded to the door. “After you, wife.”

  Belle yanked it open. Her sudden nerves had nothing to do with the way Luc had said the word wife, with such intense feeling it pierced her heart. She was simply nervous because she was about to deceive her family. Maybe her intentions were born from her protective instincts, but the fact remained—she wasn’t being honest with the people she cared about. And to add a twist to her scheme, Belle was no actress.

  As they descended the stairs, Luc dropped his arm around her shoulders, giving her a little squeeze. “Are you ready for this?”

  “Not at all.”

  He chuckled. “I won’t let you down. I promise to act the devoted husband.”

  Every muscle in Belle’s body tensed. Luc was going to have fun playing with her. She’d heard the little telling nuance at the end of husband.

  “Luc, I’m warning you. Don’t go overboard. No one expects us to be in the honeymoon stage of our marriage any longer. In fact, most couples start to forget each other exist after five years.” She started to warm to this new supposed stage of their relationship. “Yeah, I’ve seen couples like that. He walks ahead, leaving his wife to struggle behind with the shopping. He stops opening doors for her, never pulls out her chair, and the only time he notices his wife is to tell her to fix her hair.”

  Luc’s playful smile segued into a grave expression. “That’s not the kind of man I am. My wife will always be the centre of my world.”

  Tears pricked the back of her eyes.

  Why did Luc have to be so sweet all the time? Why couldn’t he be insensitive and mean? It
would certainly make giving him up easier for her to deal with.

  He’d said his wife would always be the centre of his world, but she no longer held that title. Would he remarry? Choose some other woman who could handle what he did for a living? A shard of jealous pain sliced through her as she imagined Luc with another woman—sharing love and life, laughter and children—a woman who couldn’t be her. Death had already taken one man she’d loved deeply; she couldn’t bear to lose another. To Belle’s way of thinking, she’d rather give Luc up now than wait for death to steal him from her.

  He reached out and caught a lock of hair that had escaped her haphazardly finger-combed ponytail, smoothing the tress between his fingers before he released it. “Besides, I love your messy look.”

  Belle tucked the wayward strands behind her ear. “Lucas, be reasonable. If we behave all loved up, it’s going to be harder on Gran when I do have to tell her we’re divorced.” She stopped on the last step. “Maybe we should bicker, throw little insults at each other so they can see things aren’t so good between us.”

  Luc shook his head, removed his arm from around her shoulder, and continued striding toward the kitchen.

  Belle caught the back of his white cotton shirt in her fist, yanking him to a stop. “Don’t you think that’s a great idea?” she whispered, searching Luc’s grim expression for some agreeable sign. Instead, he looked ready to spit. “Luc?”

  “No, I don’t think it’s a ‘great idea,’ Belle.”

  “Why not?”

  He exhaled noisily. “If you wanted to go with the marriage-in-trouble plan, you shouldn’t have kissed me like your life depended on it.”

  “What did you expect me to do? I was shocked to see you.”

  “Interesting that your reflex to the shock of seeing me was to kiss me instead of slap me. Now that would have told everyone our marriage was in trouble.” He resumed his course toward the kitchen.

  Aggravated beyond wisdom, Belle fell into step beside him. “Can I slap you now as a delayed reaction?”

  Chuckling, he tossed her a sparring glance. “And risk upsetting your gran? If she’s ill, wouldn’t it be preferable for her to believe we’re happy than to have to worry about us?”

  Belle hated to admit that Luc had a point. After all, her initial plan was to let her family believe her marriage to Luc was as strong as it had been at the beginning. Then she’d come against a complication. Realising how much she still loved and wanted Luc had derailed her plot and forced her to face the renewed pain of losing him when this weekend was over.

  Nevertheless, Belle knew complications needed prompt and accurate diagnosis, as well as effective treatment. Years as a trauma surgeon had taught her you’re only a true surgeon from the moment you’re able to deal with your surgical hitches. As such, she understood the need to act on the added problem to her weekend, created by her feelings toward Luc and his obvious delight in making things more difficult.

  “Okay, I suppose you’re right. But don’t even think of overdoing the touchy-feely stuff.” She narrowed her gaze on him. “Got it?”

  5

  “Hey you two, we’re in here.” Mia’s voice caught them as they passed the open door to the lounge.

  Belle started as though she’d been caught up to no good.

  Luc hid a smile. Belle couldn’t act to save her life. Why did she think she would be able to pull off this pretence?

  “You took your time,” Mia continued. “I was beginning to think you weren’t going to join us after all.”

  To offer a show of unity, Luc slid his arm around Belle’s small waist, surprised by the nervous quiver he felt tremble through her. He steered her to the lounge. Leaning close to her ear, he kept his voice low. “Honey, you need to relax. Nobody is going to buy the image of our perfect marriage if you’re so nervy.”

  “This is harder than I thought it’d be,” she whispered, showing her teeth in what he supposed she meant to be a smile, but came off more as a grimace.

  If he didn’t do something soon, Belle was going to blow her plan, and her grandmother would be the first to start asking questions. He caressed her waist.

  “Remember our third date?”

  Call him wicked for enjoying the way her cheeks immediately grew pink, but he really did like to see that little blush. If he could remind her how it used to be between them, he was pretty sure she’d loosen up enough to act normal.

  “You kidnapped me at dawn, and we—”

  “I see you remember,” he cut in because they were within earshot of a roomful of Belle’s family members.

  The low conversation between the five people in the room petered to a hush when Luc and Belle entered the large room. As much as he wanted to help her relax, he also wanted to keep the hottest early morning date he’d ever had private between the two of them.

  “Hello, Gran.” He released Belle and closed in on the eighty-seven-year-old who reminded him so much of her granddaughter. He could picture Belle at that age, the same long white hair pulled into a fancy knot at the back of her head. Although, knowing Belle, hers would certainly be messy.

  Belle would have the same intelligence sparkling from aged blue eyes, the soft skin and slim build. And he could definitely picture the no-nonsense set to lips he’d never grow tired of kissing. But would he even be part of her life after this weekend? Pulling himself out of the dark pit his life threatened to become, he widened his smile as he got to Belle’s grandmother.

  “How’s my girl?”

  She clasped his hands in a tight grip. “Better now you’re here, son.” A mischievous twinkle sparked in her faded eyes. “I see you and my Belle are still as fresh as newlyweds.” Her girlish giggle told Luc he hadn’t mistaken her emphasis on the word fresh. He got the feeling Gran was referring to more than the newness of a relationship.

  Chuckling, he kissed her soft, wrinkled cheek. “Tell me now, gorgeous, are you sick?” His words may have been jocular, but he kept his tone resolute.

  She laughed, patting his hand, then tapped his cheek as she looked deep into his eyes. “Son, I plan to outlive all of you.”

  Belle hunkered down beside her grandmother’s chair. “You didn’t answer the question, Gran. Are you sick?” Though she tried hard to hide her panic, Luc heard the slight inflection in Belle’s voice.

  Gran turned her gaze on her. “What would make you think that?”

  “You said—”

  “I’m not ill,” Gran cut in. “My heart started to break a little, but now the two of you are here, its fine again.”

  The crafty, little old lady...Luc shook his head with a smile of admiration. It seemed Belle’s gran had outfoxed them. She’d obviously orchestrated a family gathering to force her children and grandchildren to visit her.

  Tommy snorted and left the room. Luc ignored him, not surprised when Belle did likewise. He was unsure why, but Tommy had hated him soon after their first meeting ten years ago—when Luc was on an exchange program with Tom’s fire department—and didn’t bother to hide it.

  For Luc’s part, he had to admit meeting Tommy had turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to him. It was through her cousin that he’d met Belle. How could he regret that? To Luc, Belle was an adrenaline rush. An exhilarating sensation—a feeling in his gut that reminded him he was alive. He’d never been more aware of that than right this second as she tried to make sure her gran was indeed fit and healthy.

  That same caring nature had attracted him. Her gentle touch seemed to erase every grievance. Had transcended the anger he’d carried when he’d driven Tom to the nearest hospital, after breaking the other man’s nose for insulting his heritage. Belle had been the resident on duty.

  “Are you telling me the truth, Gran? You’re really okay?” Belle glanced at him, and he shrugged, reading the question in her worried eyes. What did they do now? Continue pretending or come clean?

  He was all for the continued pretence, but ultimately, it was Belle’s decision. She must have rea
d his message, because she bit her lip and drew her brows together in a pensive frown.

  Luc almost held his breath. Now her grandmother had reassured them all was well, would Belle choose to disclose the truth about their relationship? He found himself silently praying for her to continue the pretence.

  Gran cupped Belle’s face between her worn hands. “Is something wrong, child?”

  She took so long to answer that the other occupants in the room began to murmur.

  Luc waited.

  In the end, Belle took a deep breath, then let it out. “No, Gran. Nothing except you scared me half to death with your ambiguous statement that you’ll tell us your reasons for bringing us all here this weekend in your own time.”

  Luc released his arrested breath. Belle was going to continue their pretend marriage.

  “And I will, but not everyone is here.”

  “It’s pointless asking how many more you expect to arrive, isn’t it?”

  Gran nodded, gave Belle the same tap on the cheek she’d given him a short while ago. “Now sit and tell me all about what’s been going on between you and Lucas.”

  ~*~

  BELLE’S HEART flipped. She jumped to her feet, unsure of how to proceed with her grandmother’s request. Did Gran know about her and Luc’s divorce?

  The innocent smile on the elderly woman’s face persuaded Belle that she did not. If Gran knew, she would’ve been straightforward about her knowledge.

  Nevertheless, Belle gulped. “Um...going on? What do you mean?” Drat, her voice actually squeaked.

  Luc must have noticed she was close to losing it, because he snagged her hand and pulled her onto the sofa beside him. His hard bicep flexed against her back as he wrapped his arm around her and hugged her to his side.

  Belle glanced up in time to see a slow, disarming smile curve his sexy mouth, his gaze telling her—let me handle this. That confident grin travelled a lazy trail all the way to her toes as she looked over at Mia, who was grinning as though she was privy to some illicit secret.