The Boss's Fake Fiancée

by Susan Meier

  Because whether he liked admitting it or not, her past had a bearing on their future. When he boiled it all down, what he wanted from Lila was a few months, maybe a year of fun. Selfish to be sure. But that’s who he was.

  As pretty as she was, as fun as she was, as much as he was attracted to her, she was wounded. Truly wounded. She’d endured a level of pain, hurt and emptiness that a man like him would only intensify.

  He couldn’t have her. Not even for a few months. Not even once.

  He reached for the wineglasses. “Go. Have fun.” Then he smiled at her. “Spend money.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  MITCH DIDN’T KNOW where they had gone for the bachelorette party, but at six he showered to get ready to go to his brother’s bachelor party. If he looked at the situation with Lila closely, she’d been warning him off all along, and he’d been too stupid or maybe too arrogant to heed her.

  Because he was a fixer, he believed he could fix anything.

  But how could he fix a lifetime of loneliness and guilt? A mom who probably didn’t want her?

  He couldn’t.

  It was no wonder she didn’t want him in her life.

  Still, a little after seven, when he heard his apartment door open, he raced out to the sitting room hoping it was her, only to find Riccardo.

  “I thought we were meeting at seven?”

  Mitch glanced at his watch. Twenty after. “I wasn’t quite ready.” He’d been stalling for time. Hoping she’d come back. Why? He had absolutely no clue. There was nothing he could say to her. Nothing he could do to make her life better. He should stay out of it. With his track record with women, he’d undoubtedly end up making her pain worse.

  Ducking into his bedroom, he grabbed his wallet. “But I’m ready now.”

  He, Riccardo, Alonzo and six of Alonzo’s friends piled into the limo and headed into town. Mitch had no idea where they were going. If this were New York, they’d go to a strip club. But it wasn’t New York. It was rural Spain. Their choices were limited.

  Alonzo opened the limo bar, which had obviously been stocked for the occasion.

  Riccardo hooted with laughter. “Shots?”

  A general cry of agreement from Alonzo’s friends followed.

  Mitch cringed. But when they handed him a shot glass, he took it. He was, after all, the best man. “What is this?”

  Riccardo raised his glass in a toast. “The finest tequila money can buy.”

  “So we’re not going to take our time getting drunk? We’re going straight to the trouble.”

  Alonzo playfully punched his arm. “This is my last hurrah. I want it.”

  Riccardo said, “To Alonzo. And a long, happy marriage after a wicked night in Monaco.”

  Mitch raised his shot to drink, but what Riccardo said settled in at the same time that he realized they weren’t going to town when the limo turned left. He squeezed his eyes shut. “We’re going to the airstrip.”

  Riccardo laughed. “Well, we’re sure as hell not going to drive to Monaco.”

  No. He supposed they couldn’t.

  And he should also stop being so morose. This was his brother getting married—to Mitch’s ex-girlfriend. Did he want to ruin all the progress they’d made with the charade and have Alonzo’s friends think he was upset about Alonzo marrying Julia?

  He grabbed the tequila bottle and refilled everyone’s glass. “One more. A toast to my brother and his bride-to-be that they will have a houseful of kids.”

  Alonzo laughed. “Julia might not be on board with that.”

  Mitch shrugged. “So?”

  One of Alonzo’s friends said, “And that’s why you lost her.”

  Everybody laughed, but Riccardo quickly picked up the charade and said, “But he found an even more beautiful woman.”

  Chuck Martin, one of Alonzo’s childhood friends, said, “Lila is something.”

  Alonzo nodded. “At first, I thought she was a bit stiff. But she really loosened up when you were dancing the other night. And I totally saw why you love her.” He winked. “Besides her good looks.”

  Uncomfortable, Mitch held up his hands. “Are we going to sit here and talk about my fiancée like a bunch of old women? Or are we going to drink?”

  They downed the shot Mitch had poured and Chuck grabbed the bottle, pouring another round. They toasted Alonzo and Julia again and again, until the next shot Mitch secretly spilled into a nearby wastebasket.

  With a designated driver and probably hotel rooms booked, he shouldn’t have cared if he got drunk. But as the feeling of the alcohol taking him began to slither through Mitch, he thought of Lila. About how she didn’t drink. About how her mother had been a drunk. And the whole ritual of getting plastered seemed wrong. He could see the value of a nice glass of wine. Maybe a sipping whiskey. But to drink for the purpose of getting drunk...

  It had more than lost its luster.

  The drive to the airstrip took forty minutes. By the time they got there, the light of the sun was weak and shimmery, and Alonzo, his groomsmen and his friends were singing off-color songs. They rolled out of the limo and, arms on each other’s shoulder, they headed for the stack of steps leading into the Ochoa family jet.

  Mitch stared at them as they disappeared into the plane. A minute passed. Then two. But he couldn’t seem to get his feet moving toward the steps. He glanced at Fernando, the family’s longtime driver. One of Fernando’s eyebrows rose, then he opened the limo door again.

  Mitch laughed.

  “I’m sure, Señor Ochoa, that they won’t even notice you aren’t there.”

  Another laugh burst from Mitch. “You’re probably right.”

  “So go home. Go see the pretty girl they talked about.”

  He shouldn’t. Lila probably wanted a break from him. And he now felt odd being around her. Spoiled. More selfish than he’d ever thought he was.

  “She’s at the bachelorette party.”

  Fernando shrugged. “So maybe you just take a little time to yourself.”

  That sounded amazing. Since he’d gotten to Spain he’d attended ten meetings about the family business. He’d entertained Lila, watched out for Lila, kept Lila on track. And then there were the family dinners, family breakfasts, balls, garden parties...

  He was tired. Not just tired of being on, but maybe he was tired of being all things to all people.

  He got into the limo.

  He spent the forty-minute drive back to Ochoa Vineyards with his eyes closed and his head resting on the seat. When the limo pulled up to the duplex, he felt marginally better. He got out, joked with Fernando a bit, then climbed the stairs to his apartment. He would get out of this suit, into something comfortable, and read a book.

  But when he opened the apartment door, he stopped dead in his tracks. Lila sat on the sofa in the sitting room. Wearing sweatpants, her big shirt and her glasses, she sat cross-legged, watching television.

  He tossed his wallet to the door by the table. “Television?”

  She flicked off the TV. “I was bored.”

  “So what happened to Julia’s bachelorette party?”

  “We went to a spa in town. Got massages. Got makeovers.” She presented her fingernails to him. “And manicures.”

  “At least you didn’t have eight shots of tequila.”

  She winced. “They were about to go barhopping when I bowed out.”

  “Smart.”

  “Yeah.”

  The conversation died a natural death and Mitch glanced around nervously. He wanted a minute to himself, and instead he found the one person he didn’t want to see. The one person he should stay away from. Because he didn’t want to hurt her.

  “I guess I’ll go to bed.”

  “At nine?”

  �
��I was going to read.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Awkward silence filled the room again.

  She pulled in a breath. “You know what? I think I’m going out to the balcony to look at the moon.”

  The urge to join her fluttered through him. There was nothing like the sight of the moon rising over the mountains and above the vineyard. He struggled to keep himself from saying, “I think I’ll come too.”

  When they weren’t knee-deep in the charade, he liked being in her company. She was normal. Funny. And so easy to be with, she was exactly what he needed after ten days of talking business and forty minutes with friends getting drunk.

  But, in the end, he reminded himself that she was a nice woman. And he was—well, him.

  He walked into his bedroom, slipped out of his shirt and trousers and into sweatpants and a T-shirt, very much like what she was wearing.

  He opened the drapes on the French doors in his room, telling himself it was an easy, nonintrusive way to get a glimpse of the moon. But he knew it was actually his curiosity about Lila that had him looking at the balcony. Seeing her out there alone, watching the great yellow ball, his heart filled to bursting. He might not be right for her. She might not be right for him to have a fling with, but she was alone and he couldn’t stand seeing her alone.

  He walked out, sat on the chaise beside hers, stretching out his legs and relaxing on the long chair, and silently watched the moon with her.

  “I’ve seen the moon in New York City.”

  He laughed at the easy way she started a conversation. “Yeah. I figured you had.”

  “I’m not totally deprived, you know. In fact, I’m normally a very happy person.”

  He glanced over at her. Moonlight picked up the yellow in her hair and made it shine. Her gray eyes were serious, intent, so he answered seriously. “Yeah. I get that.”

  “I don’t want you feeling sorry for me.”

  “I know that too.”

  “Don’t get snooty. I’m allowed a little pride.”

  He sniffed. “Huh. You have a lot of pride.”

  “Coming from the king of pride, I’m not sure if that’s an honest observation or just you trying to find similarities between us.”

  “We have a lot in common.”

  She glanced around the estate, then burst into giggles. “Right.”

  He sat up on the chaise, facing her, and forced her gaze to his. “You think we don’t? We’re both driven. We both respect family. You might not have your mom in your life, but you respect her. And we don’t go out of our way to make ourselves the center of attention like Julia and Alonzo. We’re happy in the background. Doing things. Making things happen.”

  Her head tilted. “Wow. We’re practically twins.”

  “Is that how you handle life? When something pops up that you don’t want to discuss you make a joke of it?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  He blinked. “I expected you to dodge that question.”

  “Ech. I’m not in a dodging mood.”

  His heart flipped. The moon illuminated the vineyard. The gentle swish, swish, swish of grape leaves blowing in the breeze sang through the air. And the woman he was growing to believe he might love wasn’t in the mood to dodge his questions.

  He turned and settled on the chaise again. Relaxed. Closed his eyes, wondering what he should ask her.

  What he should tell her.

  And wondering why the very thought of an honest conversation with her made him happier than he’d been in years.

  * * *

  Lila settled on her chaise. All along Mitch had been showing her pieces of the real him. Especially dancing. Just the thought of how much fun they had shot a thrill of memory through her. They’d danced. They kissed. They’d told each other secrets. After ten days, she was probably closer to him than she’d ever been to anyone. Even Sally. Because there were things she didn’t think Sally could handle that she knew Mitch could.

  “My first summer vacation was actually a shopping trip.”

  He glanced over at her. “Really?”

  “Most foster families provide things like clothes but don’t take you shopping. So this one year, my foster mom could see I was bored. I tried to hide it. I tried to pretend it wasn’t true. But she saw right through me. I’d never said anything but I think somehow she knew I’d never been shopping for real. I’d looked in store windows and walked up and down the aisles of stores just to see what was there. But I’d never shopped.” She smiled. “She taught me about clearance racks.”

  He laughed.

  “She also took me shopping every other month. There wasn’t a lot of money to spend on clothes. But it was nice—special—not just that she spent the time with me but that she let me have choices.”

  He nodded. “I would have shot myself if my mom had expected me to pick out my own clothes.”

  She laughed. “We’re not sounding so much the same anymore, are we?”

  He batted a hand. “We’re still the same in the things that count.”

  “You don’t think being raised in the lap of luxury and being raised to count pennies makes us different?”

  “No. Because I think we ended up with the same core values.”

  “Interesting.”

  “Not really. I was in university when I began to see there were too many of us to be supported by the vineyard. In a way, that was my first experience of counting pennies.”

  “Except your pennies were dollars.”

  “It’s still money.”

  They were quiet for a minute, then he said, “Julia never got that.”

  “I don’t think Julia wanted to get it.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe.”

  “How’d you ever end up with her anyway?”

  “My relationship with Julia was almost an accident. We went to the same school as kids, went to the same parties. We just sort of evolved.”

  “So you were with her for years? You’d never dated anybody else?”

  “There’s a lot to be said for convenience and comfort.”

  She winced. “I’ll bet Julia would love hearing that.”

  He laughed. “When we broke up, I went a little crazy dating in New York.”

  “You don’t have to confess all that to me.”

  “You need to know who I am. That I’m a bit selfish. And I have tunnel vision. I will do whatever I have to do to keep my family safe, happy, pampered.”

  He was telling her not to make anything of this. Maybe because the conversation had given him the same warm feeling of connection that it was giving her and he didn’t want it? Whatever the reason, she respected his wishes and wouldn’t force him to say the obvious. She knew, as all good foster kids knew, how to turn the conversation in a neutral direction.

  “They’re very lucky to have you.”

  He waited a beat. Then he shifted on his chaise again so that he was facing her. “And your mom would be very lucky to have you. God only knows what kinds of demons she’s facing, what kind of life she has. You can’t judge her or assume any of her motivations. You can only make your life the best it can be.”

  Tears welled in her eyes, but she stopped them. What kind of guy warns you off in one breath and soothes your soul in the next.

  “Spoken like a man who’s figured the same thing about himself.”

  “I have to keep my family solvent.” He rose.

  Tired, ready to give up her star/moon gazing for the night, she rose too.

  “And I have a good life.”

  Standing in front of him, a little shorter than he was without her three-inch heels, she whispered, “I have a good life too.”

  “Then neither of us has anything to complain about... Sí?”
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br />   Right at that moment, she could think of at least one thing. His dedication to his family would keep him on a solitary path. At the same time that she envied him for his family, his destiny, she suddenly felt cheated. That moment she’d been thinking about since she talked to Sally... This was it. And he was telling her he didn’t want it.

  She rose to her tiptoes. She wasn’t trying to change his mind. She wasn’t trying to make a point. She just wanted to kiss him. If this ache of understanding and connection was love, no matter if he was turning it down, she wanted at least a kiss.

  She touched his mouth with hers, softly, gently, as she slid her hands up his arms and to his shoulders. At first, she thought he’d refuse her, but suddenly his hands came to her shoulders and slid to her nape, forcing his fingers into the thick locks of her hair, sending tingles of joy down her spine.

  She stretched higher to deepen the kiss and he bent a bit so that their mouths could meet and merge, as if he was unable to stop himself.

  And that was the moment she didn’t just know she loved him. She also knew he loved her.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MITCH FELL INTO the kiss. Drowning in sensation, he pressed his mouth to hers, even as he grazed his hands down her back, forcing her body as close to his as he could possibly get it. She was warm. She was wonderful. But more than that she was the first person to really know him. Him. Quirks. Foibles. Destiny and all.

  Knowing someone completely was the only way anyone could really love anyone else. Now she knew him. And he knew her.

  And it was pointless.

  Because he really didn’t want to hurt her. As pretty as she was, as fun as she was, as much as he was attracted to her, she came with baggage. Real pain and hurt and emptiness. At some point, he’d only make her life worse.

  He pulled away, slid his hands up her back to her shoulders and to her face, as he stared into her eyes. For one blistering minute, he longed to throw caution to the wind. To tell her she was perfect and he wanted her. Then he heard the sounds of the limo returning. He heard Julia’s laugh as she got out of the limo so she could clamber to the house she shared with Alonzo, and he pulled back. Julia had dumped him because he was never there for her.