by Diana Fraser
“Then they’re more insane than me.”
“Impossible,” Chelsey muttered. She looked at the old sofa with distaste before sitting down gingerly and turning the computer screen back on.
While Chelsey scrolled through the comments which were pouring in on Laura’s YouTube channel, Twitter, Instagram pictures and all the other social media which she dominated, Max looked through the window at the bright blue skies, rugged mountains and sweeping golden tussock that rolled on seemingly forever.
He loved that damned view. He felt it in his veins, it was the home of his grandparents and their parents before them. And it was the place his mother adored, maybe even more than the gentle shores of Belendroit, and it was here that he could remember her, could keep her memory alive, make her proud. If this marriage helped him do that, surely that was reason enough for it?
He looked up. Chelsey’s expression had changed. He groaned. “What is it?”
“Merely”—she looked up at the ceiling, as her fingers tapped on the threadbare arm of the sofa—“thinking of ways we can capitalize on this madness of yours.” She jumped up, pulled out a drawer below the computer, and had a quick rummage. “Don’t you keep anything useful in here? iPad, tablet, pen, paper?”
“No.”
“Then let’s go to my office and turn this thing around.”
* * *
Okay, the women in his life—Chelsey, sisters and friends—might be a stroppy lot, but sometimes it was good being surrounded by them, Max thought as he put his feet up on the desk and watched Chelsey and her assistant fill out the rough plan she and Max had come up with.
He could never understand men who belittled women, who couldn’t appreciate the sheer brilliance of women’s minds. Men dismissed women for their lack of logic, but it was women’s ability to blend the logical with the illogical which always floored Max with its utter brilliance.
Like this. He’d called it a disaster. Chelsey had called it madness and had come up with a plan which had turned the madness into something which had a passing resemblance to sanity.
Yep, those leaps of imagination or intuition, call it what you will, which took a mundane idea and transformed it into another thing entirely, based on nothing like the rational logic which he’d built his life on, had him constantly in awe of women. Given the choice, he’d work with women any time.
But he couldn’t replace his mates when it came to relaxing. Drinking beer, hunting, fishing, all things he liked to do. Women’s crazy minds might be awe-inspiring but they weren’t relaxing. You knew where you were when you were hanging out with your mates. The language was earthy, the behavior was predictable, and the activities were perfectly enjoyable mindless things in which they could flex their muscles and pit themselves against the elements. As the sister closest in age to him, Lizzi, frequently pointed out, Max and his friends hadn’t evolved since cavemen times. But what Lizzi didn’t realize was how much simpler life was living by those rules. And he was all for a simple life.
He glanced around the room and rubbed his stubbly chin at the sight of Chelsey, phone clamped to ear, and her assistant, head to head, as they tweaked a spreadsheet. He sighed. His life had been reduced to a spreadsheet.
Chelsey ended the call and tossed the phone down onto the desk. She leaned over the desk to Max. “Right, Max. I’ve cleared it with Laura’s people. We’re giving a press conference later on today.”
“By we, I’m guessing you mean Laura and me.”
“Correct. And I’ve arranged a meeting for the two of you right now. To get over the awkwardness.”
“What awkwardness?”
“You didn’t see that in Laura’s eyes?” She shook her head. “Max Connelly, what am I going to do with you?”
“Treat me with respect, maybe?” he said, getting to his feet. “Treat me as your boss, perhaps? As someone who could fire you at any time?”
There was a moment’s pause and then Chelsey and her assistant exchanged glances and burst out laughing.
He grunted with annoyance and walked to the door where he turned and stabbed his finger at Chelsey. “Just as well you’re adorable, Chelsey Jones, and good at your job, or else you’d be out of here.”
But she didn’t respond with her usual smart come-back, instead he glimpsed a naked hurt in her eyes which always nearly broke his heart. She hid it well, but he knew it was there and he felt guilty. Guilty that he couldn’t love her as she loved him.
“Right, Max, whatever you say.” She rolled her eyes, unconvincingly, at least to him. “Now, go and make peace with your fiancée so we can give a convincing show later.”
He grinned. “I love the way you say ‘we’. It’s like I won’t be alone in this marriage fiasco.”
Chelsey glared at him. “Of course you’re not alone. You’ll have Laura.” A wicked grin stole across her face, any vulnerability now completely gone, or at least hidden. “Till death us do part.”
He suddenly felt less good-humored, less guilty, and thrust his hands in his pockets and walked over to the door.
* * *
From her vantage point by the window, Laura watched Max emerge from the front door and step into the sunshine. He walked looking straight ahead, apparently oblivious to the shouts of people trying to catch his attention and take his photograph. When a particularly obnoxious photographer stepped in front of him, Max didn’t push him out the way like other men Laura had known, but simply looked at him, refusing to answer his questions. The man, for all his tenacity, stepped away, visibly shrinking under Max’s laser-like glare.
Laura smiled. If she had to marry someone, Max was more suitable than anyone else she’d ever met. At least he had the balls to stand up for himself—and her, when it came to it.
“Marriage? Really, Laura? Are you crazy?”
Laura sighed and turned back to face Kelly.
“You know I am.”
“Max’s marketing manager, Chelsey, has been in touch. She reckons we can do something with this. Something which will benefit the both of us.”
“Benefit us?”
“It’s a challenge for you—just like any other. If, as you say, you’ve no romantic interest in this guy, then that shouldn’t be hard, should it?” Kelly paused and looked at Laura intently. “That is right, isn’t it? You don’t have any feelings for him?”
Laura dismissed the idea with a vague wave of her hand. “You know me. I like men, I like having them around, I adore flirting with them, but that’s as far as it goes. I don’t want anyone to own me and tell me what I can and can’t do. I don’t want to be tied to only one man.”
“Then why, may I ask, are you marrying one?”
“Because, Kelly, as you say, it’s a challenge. Like any other.”
There was a knock at the door. “Hold that thought.” Kelly rose to answer it. “A challenge, remember. And we’ll deal with it like one. But this is a real living challenge, and you need to keep your eye on the ball on this one. Otherwise you might find it’s your hardest challenge yet.”
She opened the door to reveal Max Connelly, looking slightly less contained than usual.
Laura jumped up from the sofa and strode over to the door. “Well, if it isn’t my fiancé.” She held out the ring. “Thanks for the ring, by the way.”
“I’ll replace it with another one when I’ve a chance.”
She looked at the ring, feeling unaccountably disappointed. Of all the elements of this afternoon’s silliness, the ring had been the clear winner. It was beautiful, in an old-fashioned kind of way.
“You regret it already?”
“It’s not that. The ring wasn’t mine to give.”
She shrugged. “Then it’s not mine to take. You’d better have it back.” She tried to pull it off her finger but it was stuck. “Sorry. I’ll get some butter or something on to it. I don’t usually wear rings. Kelly! How do you get a ring off that’s stuck?”
Kelly glanced at her, with a glint in her eye. “You don’t. You have to
keep on wearing it.”
Laura grinned but saw Max wasn’t. “She’s kidding. I’ll get it off somehow. Anyway, how come you were walking around with a ring around your neck? Just being prepared, like a good Boy Scout?”
“It was my mother’s. She died six years ago. We were always close. She gave me the ring on her death bed. She said it belongs to the woman I love and want to share my life with.”
“Oh.” Laura exhaled, stunned at the sudden revelation. It revealed a depth of emotion that was shocking after all the superficiality of the day. She hadn’t really given Max’s family, or his past, much thought. Everything had happened so fast. Max hadn’t changed his expression and he’d spoken in a matter of fact way which she recognized. Because wasn’t that how she dealt with her emotions—tucked them right away until she could almost believe she didn’t have any? “Look, I’ll get it to you as soon as I can. In the meantime, we’d better sort out what the hell we’re going to do.”
As if on cue, Chelsey entered the room. “Hello everyone! Hello engaged couple!” She and Kelly exchanged grins. “Let’s sit down and work out how we’re going to handle you guys.”
“The hottest couple in New Zealand,” Kelly couldn’t resist adding.
Max sat. “Let’s get on with it then. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s unfinished business.”
Laura had to agree with him there.
* * *
By the end of an hour, they’d formulated a plan. They’d stick together for six months—long enough to satisfy Telltale Girl and all the other fans that this really was a challenge, and long enough to pull in some good contracts. The contracts would give Laura breathing space and Max some great publicity including holding international events at the Lodge next year. Then the marriage would be annulled and they’d go their separate ways.
It all made sense, Max thought to himself, until he caught a glimpse of his mother’s ring on Laura’s finger. The thought of what his mother would have made of this situation made him uncomfortable… and sad. His mother wouldn’t have approved of what he was doing. She’d taken marriage and family very seriously. Her husband and her children had been her life. What would she have made of what he was doing? Max couldn’t bear imagining what her reaction would have been like.
Laura had tried to slip off the ring a couple of times, but it still refused to budge and her finger was red and puffy with all the pulling.
“Don’t worry, Laura,” said Chelsey.
“I don’t understand,” said Laura with a frown holding up her hands. “My fingers look puffier than normal.”
“Ah,” dismissed Kelly, “probably the time of month.”
Max suddenly felt uncomfortable.
“We can sort the ring out later,” said Chelsey. “Leave it for now. We’ve enough things to organize. Like a wedding, eh, Kelly?”
“A beautiful white wedding,” said Kelly.
Max’s heart sunk further. “I’ll leave you lot to it, then.” He walked toward the door.
“You can’t shake me off so easily, Max,” said Chelsey. “I’m coming with you. There’s things we need to discuss.”
Max groaned. The sooner these six months were over, the better.
* * *
Laura and Kelly listened to Max and Chelsey’s footfalls fade down the echoing walkway outside their room. Laura knew when they’d reached the public part of the Lodge by the shouts of welcome and questions with which they were bombarded.
Kelly let out a long low whistle. “He’s something else. Think you’ve met your match there, Laura.”
Laura shook her head. She refused to believe it.
“Are you sure you’re okay with all of this? I mean, you’ll be on your own with him, at night sometimes. Can you trust him to leave you alone?”
Laura moved to the window where she could see him and Chelsey engaging with the reporters. He was as macho as they came and yet… there was a quality about him which offset that. He was neither a bully, nor domineering. He had no need to be because he was strong in himself. He may take control of a situation—as he had, surprising her by picking her up from the bungy jump, surprising her with the marriage proposal—but, from what she’d seen of his interactions with Chelsey and his sisters, all strong women who patently adored him, he was totally respectful of women.
“Yes, I think I can trust him.”
“What? Even when he left the camera rolling for the kiss?”
“He didn’t mean to do that.”
Kelly scoffed. “So he says.”
“I could tell. I was there. He made no attempt to fiddle with the camera, to make sure it was focused on the right thing. Have you tried to use a GoPro without it being fixed onto anything? It’s impossible. No, he put it on a ledge and forgot about it.”
She sighed as she remembered what had happened next. It had been unexpected—of herself rather than him. No, she wasn’t so much concerned about how Max would behave, but how she would behave.
Six months in which to behave herself with this man whose kisses stirred desires in her the like of which she’d never felt before. Six months. Could she do it? That would be the real challenge.
Night had settled all around like a sheltering cloak. Apart from a lone car winding its way up the mountain road, and the rustle of the trees in the night breeze, there was no sound. And that was just how Max liked it.
He took a sip of his brandy and breathed in the cool mountain air. He was a night owl. He loved the end of the day when the work was done, when he was alone with his thoughts and this place which he loved so much.
If there was one place in the world where he felt at peace, this was it—with the mountains, the valley and lake far below, the wide skies littered with stars, and this place which his grandparents had built from nothing. Or it was, until he’d turned his life into a circus.
But not for long, he hurriedly reassured himself. It was a means to an end. And once that end had been achieved then the serene spirit which pervaded this place could settle and nurture, not just him, but all his visitors, for decades to come. A fitting legacy to his grandparents, a fitting memorial to his mother.
Max frowned as the sound of the car penetrated his reverie. The car had turned off the main highway and was climbing the drive up to the Lodge. He glanced at his watch. Two in the morning? He walked around to the front of the building in time to see Laura jump out of the car, followed by Kelly.
Of course. Who else? He didn’t think ten minutes had passed the whole evening when Laura hadn’t come up in the conversation, despite her absence, as she fulfilled yet another engagement in Queenstown. And then there was her Twitter feed which sent tweets constantly pinging to his phone. And then, he had to admit, there were the in-between times when he’d escaped to his man-cave, turned on his computer and watched her. Seems he was becoming as obsessive about her as everyone else.
He stepped out of the shadows to greet them. “Had a good evening?”
Kelly jumped but Laura didn’t turn a hair. Nerves of steel, Max thought.
“Yes, thanks. Queenstown was fun.” Laura stepped toward him. She was wearing a short floral dress with the tiniest denim jacket over the top, its worn material and tears contrasting with the designer dress. On her feet were Doc Marten boots, their laces undone. “Your name came up a lot.” She raised an eyebrow and smiled.
“Did they want to know where your fiancée was?” He smiled back. The whole thing seemed ludicrous away from the public gaze.
“Yeah, that and a million other things.”
“Like what?”
She stepped closer, her eyes holding his gaze. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” Her eyes narrowed sexily and she reached out and pulled his hand which held his drink and smelled it while she looked up at him. That look. “Um. Smells delicious. What is it?”
“Cherry brandy.” He cleared his throat because his voice had gone sexy-husky as he imagined other positions where she might be looking up at him from. “Not my usual drink. A new supplier.
Would you like one?”
“Um, maybe. Anything else on offer?”
Kelly groaned and looked from one to the other. “Goodnight! I’m going to bed. I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” Kelly’s footsteps receded and a door clanged shut inside.
Neither Max nor Laura’s gaze strayed. He licked his lips. “Now, what I wonder can I tempt you with?”
“Any chocolate?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Only the best. Dark and luscious.”
“Well then. What are we waiting for? A girl can only resist so much.”
* * *
Turned out her powers of resistance were far more advanced than his own. After an hour of easy conversation and flirtation, Max was finding it increasingly hard to focus on anything but imagining Laura without any clothes on.
She lay back on the cushions in front of the fire, listening to her favorite David Bowie song, rather than the seductive music he’d tried to play. She was wearing the flimsiest dress he could imagine, shoestring straps which kept falling off her shoulders, the gauzy material inclined to ride up her thighs, revealing slender long tanned legs. She’d kicked off her Doc Martens which she seemed to wear with everything, always half undone. Her only jewelry was a long silver chain with a chubby heart locket on it. She fingered it from time to time, with long narrow fingers topped by nails that, while neat, weren’t painted or manicured to within an inch of their life. She was entirely natural. A natural firebrand, he reminded himself.
He purposely had seated himself the opposite side of the fire. He didn’t want to put himself in temptation’s way and that was exactly what Laura was—one huge temptation. He knew he had to tread carefully. He might be engaged to her, there might be an undeniable electricity between them, but their arrangement was purely a business one. And he wasn’t someone who generally confused the two. Particularly now. Particularly when the stakes were so much higher.
Plus, while Laura was flirtatious and sexy as hell, he’d seen her give short shrift to a few of the advances the more drunken men had given her, and the not so drunken. It had amused him. She certainly didn’t suffer fools gladly, and she certainly wasn’t a woman to be crossed. The more time he spent with her, the more attractive she became—and that was saying something, given her impact on him from the moment he’d first set eyes on her.