Make-Believe Marriage

by CA Quigg

  He accepted the call. “You’re a gobshite. What’s your game, Gibson?”

  Brady chuckled. “Howya there, Ro. How’s the beautiful Quinn? I believe the two of youse are playing happy families.”

  “Still up to your old games. Bleeding people dry.”

  “Revenge is a bitch, isn’t it?”

  Ronan gave a cold laugh. “Unbelievable. This is about your nose? You set this whole thing up because of something that happened years ago?”

  “Not all of it. But when I saw your name in her emails, I couldn’t resist. I knew you’d be fuming someone got what you wanted.”

  “You’re lucky your nose was all I broke. If my brothers hadn’t held me back, you’d be six feet under now.”

  “Temper. Temper, Ro boy. Simmer down.”

  “Stay away from me and stay away from Quinn.”

  “Or wha’?”

  “Don’t push me.”

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  “Save your breath. I don’t want to hear anything you have to say.” Blood pulsated in Ronan’s skull. He should’ve known. This was all about money.

  “I think you do. A hundred grand in my bank account by the end of the day and cameras in every room. If not, the papers will hear everything. How you and Quinn came up with a story to extort one of the world’s biggest movie stars.”

  “What proof do you have?”

  “Enough.”

  It’d be a cold day in hell before he did anything the lowlife wanted, but for now, Ronan would play along, call his bluff.

  “If I do what you want, you’ll disappear? Leave Quinn alone?”

  Silence crackled over the line.

  “I need your word, Gibson.”

  “You have my word.” Brady’s word was as transparent as a tissue landing in a puddle. “I’ll email you where to wire the money and where you can pick up the equipment.”

  “You come to me.”

  “No deal. Wire the money and come pick everything up or I’ll call one of me journalist friends right now.”

  Brady was goading him. Trying to scare him.

  “What will a journalist give you? A couple of hundred. If you’re lucky. And I know you’re not far from here. You always keep an eye on your marks.”

  Ronan could almost hear the wheels turning in Brady’s head. He must be up to his eyes in it if he was considering coming to him.

  “Tomorrow morning. Eleven.” There was a pause. “No funny business. I’ll text you when I’m on the way. Have my money.”

  “I’ll wire you the money when I have it in writing you’ll walk away.”

  “See you tomorrow.” The bastard hung up.

  Ronan would call Shane, have him around when Brady showed up. But he wouldn’t say a word to Quinn. What a fucking mess. He slapped his palm against the wall so hard it stung.

  “Another lovers’ tiff?” Lily asked from behind him, her words slurred.

  He turned to face her. Max, who’d burrowed into the crook of her arm, wore a black bow tie and gazed adoringly at his new mistress.

  “Not at all. Everything’s fine. You look a little unsteady there. Need some help back to your room?” And wine.

  “We need food, don’t we Maxie Moo?” She lifted the dog up so they were eye to eye. “My stomach’s ready to cannibalize itself. Be a gent and help us down these damnable stairs. Don’t want to fall and crack my skull open.”

  “With pleasure.”

  Lily hooked her arm around Ronan’s and clung on like a limpet.

  “Have you talked to Ella?” he asked. “Does she know about the weather?”

  “Oh, she knows. Let’s just say she’s… not happy. Not happy at all.”

  The mouth-watering smell of tomato-basil soup and freshly baked bread scented the kitchen and caught Ronan’s nostrils, pulling him to the stove. Brendan dozed on a chair by the blazing fire, blissfully unaware a con man demanded Ronan plant secret cameras in every room and ruin the castle’s reputation. He wouldn’t let it happen, and he would stop it before Brady destroyed Quinn and Brendan.

  “Smells divine.” Lily inhaled deeply.

  Brendan jumped up, his eyes befuddled with sleep. “Sorry. Didn’t hear you come in.”

  “You made this?” Lily picked up the lid and inhaled deeply.

  “That I did,” Brendan replied with a smile.

  She scrunched up her nose and placed Max on the floor. “Won’t poison us, will it?”

  Ronan ladled out two creamy bowls and pushed one toward Lily. “Brendan used to be one of the best-known chefs in Ireland.” He tore off a hunk of crusty bread and dunked it into his soup.

  Brendan blushed and then turned his face toward the fire. “A lifetime ago. Sure, this is just a drop of soup.”

  With an unsteady hand, Lily lifted a spoon to her mouth and slurped. “Nectar of the Gods. Don’t think I’ve had better,” She moaned and took another spoonful. “Seems you’re a man with many hidden talents, Mr. Moran.”

  “More like wasted talents,” Quinn said, strolling into the kitchen.

  She didn’t look at Ronan. Guilt pummeled his conscience. Running out of the bedroom like it was on fire was a shit move. He’d fucked up again. Big time. She was pissed and had every right to be. He’d make up for his too-fast exit later in one of the best ways he knew how, that was if she didn’t kick him out of the room for being a jackass, and if she didn’t find out about his involvement with Brady.

  He should tell her the truth, but maybe if she didn’t find out about what he’d done, how he’d lied from the minute he’d met her, she’d think about building on the last few days. His head didn’t want to think about a relationship with her, but his heart did. They had something good that in time could be something great.

  She went straight to the stove and ladled herself a bowl, avoiding him as much as she could.

  “You know,” Quinn said, tearing off a chunk of bread. “I asked him to make the food for Ella’s wedding, but he refused.”

  Brendan shrugged. “I’m too rusty. There’s a difference between some soup and a gourmet feast for famous people. And besides, I haven’t managed a kitchen in years.”

  Ronan set down his spoon and used more bread to mop up the remaining soup. “Muscle memory would’ve kicked in.”

  Quinn cast a quick glance his way, and he couldn’t decipher if she was annoyed or indifferent. If his shoulders didn’t still ache with the scratches from her nails, no way would he have thought the standoffish woman in front of him was the same one who’d begged him not to stop not more than thirty minutes ago.

  “So, Quinn.” Lily smacked her lips together. “What have you done to fix this mess?”

  “Is there a mess? I wasn’t aware there was one.” Quinn gripped her fingers together and gave Lily a smile worthy of a saint.

  The urge to come to her defense swelled inside Ronan, but he bit his tongue. Quinn wouldn’t thank him for his interference.

  “You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?” The slur in Lily’s voice lessened by the second. Perhaps she wasn’t as drunk as she seemed.

  Ronan caught the startled look on Quinn’s face and was about to say something when Brendan spoke up.

  “Don’t you worry, Lily dear, we have everything under control. The airport’ll be open by Friday, and doesn’t Ella have her own private plane to fly her here?”

  Lily meandered over to the fire by Brendan, followed by Max. “I suppose.” She bent down and picked up the cowering dog, who seemed to sense the tension. “The rooms?”

  “Ronan and I organized most of the rooms today,” Quinn said. “The kitchen will be well stocked for the guests, and I think I’m right in saying the plumbing and heating in the entire castle are in working order. Right, Brendan?”

  “They are,” he replied. “Gary and the lads sorted everything today.” He picked up a few pieces of peat and threw them onto the fire.
“So no problems there.”

  Lily rocked back and forth on her icepick heels. “The food? Wasn’t the chef supposed to come here today?”

  “The weather… But I promise the food will be perfect.” Quinn reached into a cupboard and secured four wine stems between her fingers. “Why don’t we all have a glass of wine, sit by the fire, and go over the rest of the itinerary?”

  Ronan wanted to laugh. Trust Quinn to come up with a way to pacify Lily.

  “I guess you could persuade me,” Lily said with a sniff.

  “And,” Quinn continued, “let’s FaceTime with Ella to keep her in the loop.”

  “She’s at a charity ball in New York.” Lily picked up Max and nuzzled his neck. “Ella’s lost interest. She just wants to turn up, put on her dress, say ‘I do,’ and wait for her picture to appear on every magazine cover in the world.”

  “Be that as it may, we still have lots to do.” Quinn uncorked a vintage bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. “Let’s make this the best wedding the media’s ever seen.”

  For hours, they sat around the fire and figured out what jobs needed finished before the guests arrived, and whose responsibility it was to finish those jobs. It was after 2 a.m. by the time Brendan and Ronan wrestled a half bottle of Shiraz from Lily’s hand and lugged her to her room.

  Chapter Seven

  Quinn yawned and sat by the fire in her bedroom, warming hands. The sound of Ronan’s whistles echoed from the bathroom. Had she ever survived on less than four hours sleep before? She couldn’t remember.

  Almost Three days. That’s how long he’d been in her life now. Seventy-two hours wasn’t long enough to fall in love with someone, but it was long enough to decide you wanted someone to stay in your life for a whole lot longer. Not that Quinn would ever admit as much to Ronan. When the wedding was over, he’d go back to his life in New York, and she’d focus on building her career again without the distraction of a relationship.

  His apology for running out of the tower room yesterday was a good one, and every orgasm-filled minute was worth the tiredness. If every night was as deliciously draining, she wouldn’t complain about the lack of sleep—she’d welcome it. As for today, on top of everything else, she was sure she could find plenty of other rooms and closets that needed cleaning.

  Her phone beeped, and immediately rocks dropped to her stomach. Brady hadn’t texted in a few days, but that didn’t mean he was done with her.

  Find that wolf yet? B.

  Her fingers hovered over the keyboard to type a reply that told him to get lost, but before she could, the room door opened a crack.

  “You awake in there?” Lily didn’t wait for Quinn to answer before she pushed the door open and leaned against the doorjamb. Max peeked out from an oversized handbag and watched his adopted owner with puppy dog eyes. He had it bad. She knew how he felt.

  Lily smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile; it was how a wolf might smile after devouring a deer. “Have you checked your emails?”

  “Not in the last ten minutes.”

  “You’re in for a surprise. I’ll meet you in the dining room in ten so we can discuss Ella’s latest… requests.” Lily disappeared before Quinn could question her. Apprehension settled in the pit of her stomach. Whatever news was waiting in her inbox wouldn’t be good.

  She refreshed the emails on her iPad. Three from Ella all sent within a minute of each other. None with a subject line. This didn’t bode well. Ella rarely contacted Quinn directly.

  My bridesmaids can’t be as thin as me on my wedding day. When they arrive, serve them nothing but carbs. The tighter their dresses, the better I’ll look. I want their stomachs bloated in the pictures. If you have to, steal their Spanx. Especially Sierra Winter’s. That bitch beat my box office record last week. She needs to look as if she’s four months pregnant.

  Every girl needed a friend like Ella. Quinn opened the next email.

  All bridesmaids must be the same height. I want to be the tallest. Since I’m five-four, you need to make sure they all wear heels that make them at least three inches shorter than me. I’m wearing four-inch heels so make sure they’re all five-five. I will measure their height.

  Not at all demanding. She clicked on the third email.

  I don’t want to pay for anything. Make sure I don’t have to. That includes you. Your payment will be the publicity you get from being in every magazine in the world. You’re welcome.

  The words distorted in front of Quinn’s eyes and blurred. No payment. Free. No way could she work for free. No one could. Too many people depended on the revenue this wedding would bring in. She sank back in her chair. Ella’s demands were ridiculous. How wonderful to live in a world where you earned a fortune and still expected people to give you freebies.

  Ronan sauntered out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and droplets of water sticking to his skin. If Ella’s emails hadn’t stomped all over Quinn’s good mood, she’d have whipped the towel off and licked him dry.

  “Something wrong?” he asked, warming his back by the fire. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost, which wouldn’t surprise me in this place.”

  “The grim reaper paid a visit.” Quinn handed Ronan her tablet. “Read my emails.”

  His brows lifted higher by the second. “I’ve worked with some shites in my day, but this… Jesus. Does Lily know?”

  Quinn bit the inside of her cheek and nodded. “She practically flew away and cackled when she asked if I’d read my emails.” She held her head in her hands. “I can’t work for free. I know this job will bring in lots of clients, but they’re not going to pay my current bills or pay the contractors’ bills. I can probably negotiate a lower fee, but I’m already at rock bottom.”

  Anxiety hopped between her synapses. If she had money in the bank, she’d consider doing what she could for free, because, yes, a job as prestigious as Ella’s would bring in hundreds of thousands in revenue for years to come. But most of those jobs were months away, and she needed money now.

  She stood and paced around the room. “I’m meeting Lily in a few. Maybe she knows how to change Ella’s mind. I’m worried about Brendan as much as anything. Getting him to agree to this wedding in the first place wasn’t easy. There’s no way his bank account will cover all the repairs done to the castle.”

  Ronan knelt in front of her and caught her hands with his, and the softness in his eyes soothed some of her jangled nerves. His sweet smile almost made her problems disappear.

  “Let me talk to Lily.” He smoothed his hands over her shoulders. “I’ve been through negotiations with tougher people than her.”

  “I’ll handle it, thanks.” She stared over his shoulder, not focusing on anything. “I need you by my side, but I have to figure this out by myself.”

  He clasped her chin and turned her face until their eyes met. “I’m not the enemy. Not anymore. They’re going to take advantage of you.”

  She blew out a breath and met his eyes. “I can take care of this. I need to.”

  “I’ll try to keep my mouth shut, but I can’t promise.”

  She lowered her gaze and focused on a droplet of water above his taut nipple. “So last night was—”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “How do you know what I was going to say? Maybe I was going to say it was the worst night of my life. That I faked every orgasm.”

  He pulled her close until his still damp chest pressed against her blouse. His towel slipped and fell to the floor, revealing an impressive erection. If only there was time to enjoy it.

  “You’re a bad liar.”

  “It was the worst night of my life.” She ran her fingers over his tight butt and around the crease at the top of his thighs. “I insist on a repeat performance and this time, try… harder.”

  “Harder?” He clasped a hand around hers and guided it lower.

  “Much.” She laughed and curled her hand ar
ound his width.

  He touched his lips off hers, and she all but fell at his feet. But she had to remember, this was purely physical—nothing more.

  ****

  Brendan sat at a mahogany table big enough to feed an army and laughed at something Lily had said. Max sat between them, scratching his ear. The stoic and pinched-faced paintings lining the paneled walls mirrored Quinn’s feelings. As did the fire roaring in the hearth. Now was the time to show Lily she meant business. She wouldn’t give in, she wouldn’t back down, and she wouldn’t beg.

  Brendan reached over and patted Lily’s hand fondly. “You’re a hoot and a half, you really are.”

  When Lily noticed Ronan and Quinn standing at the threshold, a scowl replaced all previous signs of happiness. “So you’ve read the emails?”

  “I have.” Quinn went into the room and placed her briefcase and laptop on top of the table. “You know how many people are depending on the money this wedding will bring. I won’t agree to her childish requests.” Ronan pulled out an antique chair for Quinn. She thanked him and sat. “Ella’s demands are ridiculous.”

  “She said she doesn’t want to pay.” Lily shrugged. “I look after her public relations, not her decisions.”

  Ronan, who sat opposite Quinn, opened his mouth to speak, but she glowered in his direction, warning him not to say a word. The thin line of his lips showed his annoyance, but he took the hint and said nothing.

  “For someone who looks after her publicity,” Quinn said, “you should know how disastrous this could turn out. She’s already gaining a reputation as being a diva. Do you want to add more fuel to the fire?”

  Brendan stretched for a crystal decanter in the middle of the table and poured a drop of whiskey into Lily’s coffee. “Here’s something that’ll warm your cockles.”

  “You spoil me.” Lily beamed at Brendan, and Quinn half expected her to curl up on his lap and purr.

  “A sweet lady such as yourself is worth spoiling.” Was she hearing things or did Brendan call Lily sweet? If by sweet he meant sarcastic, snarling, and sharp, then she’d agree.