The Virgin’s Fake Fiance

by Kim Loraine

  "I need you. Always."

  She licks her lip and a hungry look fills her eyes. "Should I... take care of you?"

  "I was just about to get in the shower. But you can't join me."

  "Why?"

  I love the disappointment in her tone. "Two reasons, love. One: you'll ruin your hair and makeup. Two: you'll be too sore. We have to take it slow and ease you into this."

  She huffs and tosses her hair over one shoulder. "Fine. You're right."

  I resist the urge to go to her and hold her tight. Instead, I stride into the shower and start getting ready. If I don't, I'll have her on her back without any regard for her hair, and I can guarantee she doesn't want to walk into her reunion with hair that screams she's been freshly fucked. I'll see to that after we get back.

  Chapter 9

  Charity

  The black dress is perfection, fitted and curve-hugging, it showcases my hourglass figure. I know it's good because when Lincoln stepped out of the shower and saw me, his erection came back with a vengeance. I really wanted to help him with that problem. Poor guy. But, we're in the car now, on our way to a rooftop bar in SoHo.

  His hand rests on my knee, thumb brushing the sensitive skin over and over. I get the chills from his touch, in a good way. "How far are we?" I ask, trying to distract myself from the arousal building inside me.

  "A few more minutes." His words are hard and tight as though it takes him a lot of effort to speak. "I... I have something for you. I think it's only right you receive it now."

  Oh, God, is he paying me to be with him? "What?"

  He removes his hand from my knee and pulls something from his pocket. My heart is in my throat at the sight of the glistening diamond ring. "It's my grandmother's ring. An heirloom meant to pass on. Please be careful with it. Will you fake marry me, Charity?"

  My heart sinks a little at the addition of fake to his proposal. But what was I thinking? We aren't really getting married. This is all we have. "Yes, I'll pretend to love you like crazy for the next week."

  He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes as he slides the gigantic diamond on my finger. "Well, that looks perfect on your lovely hand. Like it was made to be there."

  Ugh, he's too good at this charming stuff. I smile but don't let my gaze drift to the ring. I can't look at it without wanting him to be mine for real. He takes my hand and threads our fingers together, dragging my attention away from the window I'm choosing to focus on.

  "All right, love?" He squeezes my fingers and his intense eyes lock onto mine. "Nervous about tonight?"

  I nod and fight the urge to bite my lip. "It's been a long time since I saw them."

  "Why did you leave the city?"

  This story. It's not one I love to tell, but he has to know so he can convince my friends we're really together. "A few weeks before I graduated, my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. It was already pretty advanced." His hand tightens on mine and warmth races through me. "Anyway, by the time I graduated, he was so sick he couldn't work. I'm the only child, and my mom left us when I was little." I shrug. "So, I came home. Abandoned my master's program and started helping bring in money to keep things going."

  "What was your plan? What did you want to do?"

  My eyes burn at the thought of everything I didn't do. "I wanted to be a music therapist, but in my little town, that's not even a real job to most people."

  His brows rise. "My mum saw a music therapist for years. He taught her to play the ukulele as a way to help her motor skills." His lips press into a tight line as the words hang between us. He hasn't told me about his mother. "She had MS, very progressive. I lost her years ago." It's my turn to squeeze his hand, but I can't speak. I just look into his eyes. "I know what it's like to grieve your parent, Charity, but if your father was anything like you, he'd want you to do what you're passionate about."

  The car pulls to a stop in front of the building, and I don't respond to his statement. I can't. Instead, I release his hand and paste a bright smile on my face. "Here we go," I say.

  I get out before the driver can open my door, Lincoln hot on my heels. His large palm settles on the small of my back, protective, possessive, and exactly what I needed.

  "Remember," he whispers, his lips so close to my ear I can feel them brushing the sensitive skin. "I'm desperately in love with you."

  A full body shiver takes over and I'm thankful this dress is made of dark material, because I'm sure my nipples would be visibly hard in a lighter dress. "Got it."

  We step inside and ride up the elevator to the rooftop where we're greeted by a bouncer in a black suit.

  "Can I help you?" he says, eyeing me.

  "I'm here for the Kappa Delta Chi reunion."

  He looks me up and down. "Name?"

  "Charity Baker."

  Consulting his list, he looks at me again. "I see you, but I don't see a plus one on this list."

  "Well, I have one. Is that going to be a problem?" Panic is obvious in my tone.

  "Is there a cover charge or something?" Lincoln asks, directing his attention to the bouncer.

  The man crosses his arms over his chest and frowns. "This is a private party."

  "And I do understand that, but as you can see, my fiancée is on that list, and she'd like me to accompany her."

  "If you're not on the list, I can't let you in."

  Lincoln sighs and pulls out his phone. Dialing quickly, he holds the phone to his ear and waits, one finger held up for our attention. "Max? Yeah, hi. I know, it's been too long. Look, I'm standing on your rooftop right now. Yes, at Sledge. The only problem is, there seems to be a bit of trouble with a private party and my name not being on the list."

  The bouncer shifts uncomfortably, his face registering concern. Lincoln nods his head and says, "Yes, I see. Totally understand, man. Of course. The chap's only doing his job. Brilliant. Thank you."

  He hangs up and slides his phone back into his pocket. All I can do is stare at him. "What was that all about?" I ask.

  "Wait a moment, love." He winks and grins as the bouncer's phone rings.

  The man takes the call, his face grave and tone quiet enough that it's hard for me to hear him. Then he hangs up and looks at us both. "Apologies, Mr. Harper. Have a nice time."

  We stride past the barrier and butterflies go wild in my stomach. "How did you do that?"

  "My friend Max owns this club."

  "Did you get the bouncer in trouble?"

  Lincoln presses a kiss to my temple and wraps his arm around me. "I love that you're concerned about him. No. I'd never do that. The man's just doing what he's paid to do. Max knows that. I just got myself added to the list."

  We round the corner and I immediately see them. Four of my best frenemies standing together around a tall cocktail table. They've all got matching cosmopolitans in their hands. Each one of them has long straight hair in varying shades of blond and with their designer bags and shoes, they look like they're part of some runway show. Suddenly I'm back in college, the odd-woman-out with my dark hair, short legs, and curves.

  "You're the most beautiful woman here, love. Stop worrying." Lincoln's voice is smooth and comforting in my ear. And when he presses his lips to the nape of my neck, I pray he lingers long enough for me to believe him.

  Chapter 10

  Lincoln

  Charity's entire body tensed the second she saw the group of blondes, and I knew coming with her had been the right thing. In one instant she's gone from the sweet, bright woman who fell into my hotel to a shy and self-conscious girl. I hate that these women have that kind of power over her.

  "You know, this wasn't a good idea. Let's go back," Charity says, attempting to back away.

  I don't care. I'll go anywhere she leads as long as she wants me, but one of the women catches sight of us and squeals her name. Charity stills and takes a fortifying breath while I link my hand with hers and give it a squeeze. "It's fine, love. I'm here with you, and we can leave whenever you're ready."


  She nods and pastes a smile on her face as the woman approaches. "Amy, so good to see you."

  "O. M. G. I can't believe you made it. Hashtag recluse. What have you been doing all this time?"

  I pull Charity a little closer in an effort to bolster her confidence. "I... I've been in Montana— my dad got sick."

  "Oh, right. You know, I heard about that. I'm sorry about your dad dying. So now you're what, a farmer?"

  I don't like this woman. Not even a little. Stepping forward, I extend my hand. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Lincoln Harper, Charity's fiancé."

  Her mouth nearly drops to the floor, and I can't stop my smile. "Her... fiancé?"

  I wrap my arm around Charity and pull her close. "We made it official as of this evening."

  She gives Charity a conspiratorial glance and mouths, well- done, as though I can't see her. Charity, to her credit, blushes and puts her arm around my waist. "I wasn't sure Linc would be able to make it; he's got a family wedding in England this week, and we weren't sure he could fit this in before his flight."

  "Well, love, that's not entirely true. I might have told you a bit of a story about that because I was hoping to surprise you with the proposal."

  "Oh, you're just too charming," Amy says, walking to my free side and threading her arm with mine. I hate that this woman is touching me, but I grin and bear it. I'll do this for Charity. "Come on, I want to introduce you to the girls."

  We walk toward the table, all eyes on us and Charity holds me tight. She needs me, that much is obvious.

  "Girls, you'll never believe it. Charity bagged herself a British guy! This is Lincoln Harper. He's Charity's fiancé."

  The other three women gape before Amy grabs Charity's left hand and pulls it close to inspect the ring. "O. M. G. That ring is gorgeous! What is that, like two carats?"

  "Three, actually," I say, quite chuffed that I get to correct her. "It's an antique."

  I watch as they fawn all over the sparkling bauble on Charity's finger and treat her as though they hadn't just been judging her.

  "Wait, wait, wait!" one of them shouts then turns her gaze on me. "Lincoln Harper, as in Lord Harper, second son of the Duke of Danforth?" She holds her phone out for all to see. There I am on some royalty website. Her eyes glint with adoration and pride. "I follow all the royals, Lord Harper."

  Oh, bugger. Charity's head whips toward me so quickly I'm worried she might have hurt herself. She doesn't say anything, but I can tell I've hurt her by leaving this little tidbit out.

  "Just Linc, if you don't mind. I'm strictly off nobility duty for the time being. It's a perk of being the second son." I play it off, casual and cool. Most people don't know or care about the duke's second son. I don't stand to inherit his title; therefore, I'm not important. If I were a prince, well, we all know that story. Second son or not, that title matters.

  Charity removes her hand from my waist and separates us just enough for me to know she's cross. I don't blame her. I'm sure this'll all be over before it can really begin.

  The rest of the night, she's distant. She puts up a good front, but her eyes are filled with the burn of mistrust. Her cold shoulder is obvious to me; however, it's easy to see the rest of them don't suspect a thing. She drinks cocktails with them, laughs, pets my arm and teases as though nothing's wrong. Until one of the blondes stares us down and points drunkenly at me.

  "Tell me, how did a girl like you land a British lord?"

  Charity clenches her jaw before forcing herself to relax and take a long drink of her cocktail. "We met at the hotel he owns. Someone stole my purse, and Linc rescued me."

  "Oh, the damsel in distress act. Well played, Charity. I didn't think our little virgin had it in her."

  Now I'm the one clenching my jaw. "Well, ladies, that's me done. I hate to spoil the party, but we've an early day tomorrow. We're flying to London for a royal wedding, and we all know how important those are."

  The four women pout and tease, calling me a stuffy hottie, and I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes. Charity is swaying in her heels, the alcohol obviously catching up to her. "Come on, love," I whisper, scooping her in my arms as she protests.

  "I can walk. Stop it."

  "Let me be your knight in shining armor again. I've a reputation to protect as a dashing British lord." The blondes all sigh and perform some variation of a fake swoon. "Ladies, I wish I could say it's been a pleasure..."

  I leave it at that and they're still smiling after us, totally unaware of the slight. By the time I get us into the lift, Charity has fallen asleep with her head resting on my shoulder. Guilt hits me hard. She's so gentle and kind, and I lied to her. But I'll prove to her that my reason was innocent. I was going to tell her on the plane. Now I'm going to have to fight to regain her trust. I can't bear the thought of her not being able to look me in the eye with that open heart of hers.

  "I'm sorry, love. I'll fix this. I promise," I whisper into her hair.

  She moans and nestles closer. "Mmm, Lincoln. I think I'm falling in love with you." She's mostly asleep, but I hear those words and my heart nearly beats out of my chest. I'm going to hold on to those words and keep them close until I can convince her to stay.

  Chapter 11

  Charity

  I'm pretty sure I said something stupid last night. Damn the cosmopolitans. Lincoln, no, Lord Harper, is in bed next to me. Clad only in boxer briefs with a five o'clock shadow shading his jaw, he's sleeping peacefully, but not touching me. I stare at him and wonder at the man I'm falling for. He isn't who he said he was. In fact, he lied to me. I called him a prince, and he said he was nothing of the sort. A lord is pretty damn close to a prince. It's closer than any of the men I've known.

  I slide out of bed, parched and frustrated. I need water, probably some coffee, and painkillers to dull this headache. Padding into the kitchen, I find my purse and dig around until I get the small bottle of Ibuprofen I keep stashed in there for emergencies. After popping a couple of pills and downing two glasses of water, I pace the room, needing to think. I should leave. He hasn't shown me his true self, and he probably wouldn't have. Our entire relationship is based on lies.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a familiar black and white suitcase sitting in the foyer. My suitcase and pink wallet are placed neatly at the entry with a small slip of paper neatly folded on top.

  Ms. Baker,

  Your items were located safe and sound. I'm sorry it took longer than expected. I had to use a few different channels that were less than official. Rest assured, your items are safe. Please let me know if anything is unaccounted for.

  Regards,

  Charlie

  I open the wallet and see my cash, ID, and credit cards are all there. Relief floods me. Opening the suitcase, I find all my clothes, a little disheveled as though someone rifled through them, but they're there. Quickly I pull on a pair of leggings and a sweater. I know what I'm going to have to do. I can't keep up this charade. Lincoln made this too real, he already has part of my heart. I'll never survive losing him if we don't stop now. Gathering my belongings, I hit the elevator button and wait. The door opens just as Lincoln makes his way out of the bedroom, hair deliciously rumpled, washboard abs and tattoos on full display. His eyes widen as he sees me.

  "Charity?"

  I shake my head, tears in my eyes as my heart gives a pained lurch. "No. I can't do this."

  "Wait," he calls as I step into the elevator and push the button to close the doors.

  Chapter 12

  Lincoln

  I take the stairs two at a time, but I know I'm going to be too late. She's left me. My chest hurts. It fucking aches. When I finally reach the lobby, I burst through the door and skid to a halt when I see her standing outside, hair blowing in the breeze, a taxi driver helping her with her bag. Before I can get to her, she's inside and speeding away. I feel like I might be sick.

  "Um, Mr. Harper?" Charlie says, eyeing me. "Should I get you a robe?"

  I glance down at
myself and finally realize I'm standing in the middle of my hotel lobby in nothing but my pants. "Get me her address. I need to change my flight." I stalk back to the elevator but quickly realize I don't even have my key. "Bugger," I mutter, turning on my heels and making my way to Charlie. "I need a key."

  He grins and hands me a plastic key card and a photocopy of Charity's driver’s license. "I'll call you a car."

  "Brilliant."

  Thank God it's the crack of dawn. There's virtually no one in the lobby to witness me in my underpants aside from Charlie, but I'm certain the security guards will give me endless shit once they review the footage. I think I've gone completely mad for this woman.

  As soon as I'm dressed, I rush to the waiting car. After rattling off my destination, LaGuardia International Airport, I say a silent prayer that she's not at JFK. I have nothing but her address to go on, but I'll find her even if I have to fly all the way to Montana. When we reach the airport, I dash from the car and run inside, searching for her through the crowd of early morning travelers. She's nowhere to be found, and my heart sinks. I run to the airline counter with the shortest queue and take my place, trying desperately to control my crazy.

  Finally, I reach the clerk and I say, "I need a flight to Montana. What's your soonest?"

  She smiles and types something into her computer. "We have one leaving in about three hours."

  "Perfect." I pull out my credit card and thrust it at her.

  "That seems to be a popular destination this morning. I just booked the same flight about ten minutes ago."

  My stomach flips. Charity is within my grasp. I stand every chance of finding her before she leaves me. I can't lose her. In this moment I know beyond all doubt, I love her. She's meant to be mine and I'm already hers.

  The clerk prints my boarding pass and I'm off, dashing through the security line as fast as I can and running to the gate. I don't know where she is, but she'll have to come here eventually.