The Fiancee Charade

by Darcy Maguire

He rubbed his jaw. No other woman he’d encountered seemed to have a problem with him, his charms or his assets…but then, none of them had turned out the way he’d hoped.

  He knew he was doing something wrong—something small that he couldn’t discern. But could Jess be right? Was he finding shallow relationships because that was all he offered?

  Was it that simple?

  It wasn’t his fault that his trimmings just happened to be top class, impressive and very attractive to the women he was drawn to.

  He looked to his hands, regret sliding through him like a knife. He probably shouldn’t have cut her off. He would have learnt even more from her if he’d let her keep going, sticking a few more holes in him. But each one of her comments had struck him deep in the chest.

  This was harder than he’d thought. Getting outside advice on business matters was one thing; on personal ones it was a whole other issue. He hadn’t planned on this being so confrontational.

  He lifted his chin, watching her by the windows. Her assessing glance towards him was disconcerting.

  What was she thinking now?

  Alex shifted his weight. Was she thinking of some new way to tell him what a shallow successful businessman he was? Was she toying with some other barb to throw at him? Would she be right?

  ‘I feel that I still have a lot to offer you,’ she said softly, her voice sweet like honey.

  He crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing her, tensing his body. Too sweet. What was she up to now? Buttering him up before another attack on his character? He rubbed his jaw again, the thrill of the challenge filling him.

  ‘Do you?’ he said cautiously. She’d certainly given him a lot to think about, but maybe he was the medicine she needed to get over this anti-men stage.

  ‘Absolutely,’ she said, more strongly. ‘There’s no reason to cut the day short. We could run through different dating scenarios—could practise those things you’re going to say to your date to connect. You know, I could help you get genuine.’

  Alex nodded, a thrill rushing through his veins. She thought he didn’t need her any more…when it was becoming more obvious by the minute to him that he desperately needed her…her advice.

  But he liked the idea that she was reluctant to end her time with him, wanted to spend more with him…yearned, perhaps, to find out why he was stirring something deep inside her where usually only icicles resided.

  ‘Perhaps,’ he offered casually, his body heating.

  She swung to face him, her eyes bright with intent. ‘I’m already here…what’s a few more hours hanging around with you? I think I could manage it—and I had planned to spend the entire day—’

  ‘That’s so sweet of you,’ he teased, tipping his head and watching her eyes, trying to keep the smile from his face. Did she need the money? Or was she enjoying the challenge of him as much as he was enjoying her? ‘But I wouldn’t want to put you out.’

  ‘Not at all.’ She forced a stiff smile in his direction. ‘I look at it as a test of character for myself.’

  He nodded. Sure. He sat back down on his lounge, leaning back in his seat, closing his eyes. It would be a test for him too—to see if he could help her with her love-life as much as she was going to help him.

  Jess having a boyfriend chafed on him. The conversation in the car still echoed in his head. It didn’t seem possible for a woman working for Women Against Womanisers to have a man in her life.

  He half suspected it was a ploy to keep him at bay. Was pretty sure it was…but he’d have to make sure. There’d be little point in him helping her if she didn’t need it—or, worse, if she had a man at home who was continually reinforcing her bitterness.

  He clenched his fists by his sides. She deserved more than that. She deserved to have a person in her life who loved her—like he planned for Natasha Bradford-Jones.

  Natasha was beautiful, talented, and all class. And he’d always thought that she was meant for him—she was going to be his bride.

  Since she’d announced her engagement to Carl Tannerson he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. They’d been to university together—would have dated, if it hadn’t been for his ex-mate Carl snagging her first and keeping her close by his side…

  She should be his. If she was going to settle down with anyone it should be him. If she was going to have a family it should be with him.

  Natasha was everything a man could want in a wife.

  Since her break-up last month with her third fiancé since Carl, Alex had seen the light. He could have her. He just didn’t want to risk losing her by acting the womanising bachelor…he had to know that he’d get her. And Jess was the guarantee.

  Romancing Natasha would be like a symphony, blending the right amount of romance with sincerity, perfect timing with lavish meals and outings.

  He rubbed his palms against his trousers. He’d have to work out what they had in common, work out how to offer himself, and with Jess’s help he’d get that under control—like everything else in his life.

  Jess. He opened his eyes and ran his eyes up and over his coach. Whoever had screwed Jess up had done him a big favour. He needed every ounce of criticism she could throw at him. He needed to get his actions consistent with his new goal and his charms working to sway only one woman. Hell, at the same time he might even learn what made his teacher tick.

  Alex pressed the buzzer next to the suite. ‘Then let’s get started.’ His steward stepped into the room. ‘Miss Thompson and I have decided to stay on for lunch, John. Could you make the arrangements?’

  ‘Stay here?’ Jess asked, her voice tight.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, standing up and reducing the distance between them, crossing to the window and staring out at the bay. The urge to lose a few of his crew, weigh anchor and head out to the open sea rose in his chest—they’d be alone then. ‘There’s no better place to instruct me in the arts of romance, is there?’

  She shook her head, her eyes narrowing.

  He offered her a smile. There was no way she could suspect what he was up to…He could hardly believe his urge to help her himself. But he couldn’t shake it.

  He figured putting up with him was a sacrifice for Jess, seeing as he appeared to be the type of man she saw as the personification of all womanisers. His gut ached at the thought of being classified with the men who had hurt her in the past.

  He was going to return the favour and help her.

  There wasn’t a doubt in his mind about his plan. He didn’t do anything in his life without making sure it was going to turn out his way. He didn’t tolerate failure. And he’d do anything he had to ensure his success.

  Anything.

  Jess’s head filled with the terrors of being a romantic coach to the man she hated more than any other human being in the world. Although she had to admit that Dean came close.

  Being in Calahan’s close company was bad enough, without adding the nauseating torture of helping him with his love-life.

  She should feel elated at keeping this going, at getting one step closer to finding out what she needed. But all she could muster was a chill that seeped into her, filling her.

  She could tell him he was arrogant without a problem, but teach him how to be romantic…Her stomach filled with bats, clawing to get out. She shouldn’t have offered.

  She gripped her belly and leant against the window. She could see it now. Calahan with his glittering blue eyes whispering promises to her body. Calahan with his smooth deep voice practising his sweet nothings on her. Calahan with those big strong hands, touching her…

  Her blood heated. He’d feel so good…too nice for her own good.

  ‘I can’t stay here,’ she said in a rush, gripping her stomach, willing the chaos to subside.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Calahan was beside her. ‘Are you ill?’

  She shook her head, her cheeks filling with heat at the stupidity of dwelling on the man’s good features rather than on the bad.

  This was the man who had ruin
ed her family. He deserved the worst in life—torture, pain and suffering—despite how nice his eyes were, or how she felt when he smiled at her.

  ‘I want to get to shore,’ she blurted.

  ‘Is it the motion of the boat?’ he asked slowly, touching her shoulder. ‘John, can you get Miss Thompson a drink of water, some dry crackers?’

  Jess glanced at the man, her chest tight. Cripes, now he was being nice. How was she going to cope? His warm touch on her shoulder incited the bats to spread, through every nerve of her body.

  She stiffened, fighting the traitorous response. Didn’t her body realise who this was? What he’d done? What she had to do to him to bring balance back into the universe?

  ‘My mother used to get motion sick on the family yacht,’ he said softly, his tone gentle and warm. ‘Sometimes she’d be really ill, but most of the time she’d be okay…What I’m trying to say is that it doesn’t mean you don’t belong on boats. It just takes a while to get used to the motion, that’s all.’

  She swallowed hard. Motion sick? She wished. But the cruiser was enormous, the lull of the waves in the bay negligible. She’d seen bigger swells than this fishing in the bay in a nine-foot tinny.

  He rubbed her shoulder gently, his touch causing more turbulence.

  She put up her hand, waving away Calahan’s request of John. The idea of sitting and eating anything, even dry crackers, under Calahan’s smoky blue eyes made the bats swarm again. ‘Can we please just go back to the office?’

  ‘Sure.’ Calahan moved his hand off her shoulder and straightened his shirt and tie. ‘Of course. I didn’t realise…’

  She stood to her full height, lifting her chin, fighting the warmth the bats were creating. ‘I’d be a lot more comfortable.’ And a lot more able to get this over and done with at his office.

  She crossed her fingers behind her back. She was far more likely to pick up a titbit that could make their business there, and if Calahan wasn’t going to offer her one she would find someone that would.

  Calahan nodded. ‘I just have to speak to my staff about Saturday. Maybe some fresh air will help you feel a bit better,’ he said softly, his brow creased. ‘I’ll only be a couple of minutes.’

  Jess nodded. She’d figured as much. He could have given these guys a phone call to instruct them on the preparations for Saturday night, but no. He was out to impress again.

  So he was a womanising jerk who needed some instruction on how to be a better person…did that really involve dragging her round in his limo to his boat?

  She bit her bottom lip as she passed through the door to the open sunshine on the deck. Did he really believe that was all he had to offer a woman?

  She moved to the rail, staring out at the boats on the water, fighting the knot in her chest. It would be sad if that was the only type of relationship he’d ever had—but then he was a womanising, arrogant bachelor. He didn’t deserve any more, probably hadn’t wanted any more. Until now.

  Kath’s idea about this bride thing being a stunt was looking grim. Calahan was doing and saying all the right things to suggest he was real about wanting to change, although he was a little slow accepting her advice.

  She didn’t need to feel for him. He was just showing off his usual womanising habits—and irritatingly confidently, as though she was going to get all weak at the knees and be impressed.

  How could she be impressed when he saw women as completing his outfit, as accessories, using them to look and feel good?

  She pushed away the fact that they used him too, for exactly the same thing.

  Jess leant over the railing, staring into the deep blue water. The guy was incredible, but far too arrogant to fit anyone else into a relationship.

  She couldn’t help but smile. She’d help him there…she’d chop a few feet off his ego by evening up the playing field in the business world.

  Maybe then he’d see that the world didn’t revolve around him. He’d see women as more than pretty trophies to hang off his arm.

  And that this woman was going to hang him out to dry!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘SO, WHAT’S the most romantic thing a guy has done for you?’ Calahan stepped into the elevator and punched a button.

  Jess gripped her handbag, trying not to look at the gorgeous man opposite her. She did not want to go there with Calahan.

  He turned towards her in the too-small, too-slow lift. ‘I think it would help me in my efforts…’

  She stared at the guy. Cripes, what was she going to do? The last thing she wanted to do was share intimate details of her life with him. She’d already given far too much away on the boat—maybe even the fact that he was starting to get to her—and there was no way she could continue down that road. The guy’s ego was already huge. And she had to hate him.

  His blue eyes glinted and his mouth curved slightly, all inviting.

  If she’d wanted intimacy she would have stayed on his stupid big boat and let him charm her over a meal.

  She stared at the doors, ignoring his rich spicy scent mingled intoxicatingly with pure, arrogant male. She wasn’t going to weaken. So the man had been uncomfortably nice to her since leaving the boat? She was not going to falter. She was going to do what she had to do to get the job done.

  They were back in his building and she could almost feel the success and good fortune about to rub off on her. She just wasn’t sure how far she should go to get it. She couldn’t be as cunning and sly as Calahan had been to get where he had. She wasn’t that sort of person. She had a heart.

  She gnawed on her bottom lip. The fact that Calahan had cared about her feeling unwell and had shown his concern for her welfare might just suggest that he had a heart too.

  She didn’t want to think about it. Or him.

  She lifted her chin. It had been easier to contemplate her goal when she’d thought he wasn’t human.

  ‘Mr Calahan, I think it would be better if we focus on what you do rather than on what’s worked for me,’ she said tightly, glancing at the guy. Or what hadn’t worked for her. She fought memories of the last disaster to walk into her life and trample all over her heart.

  ‘Wouldn’t you think that what’s worked for you would work for other women? What did the man in your life now do to touch your heart?’

  ‘Man in my life?’ she echoed, frowning. What was he going on about now?

  ‘Yes, the one you were talking to on the phone in the limo.’ Calahan rubbed his jaw, his eyes narrowed. ‘I figure he would have had to do something pretty impressive to win you. After all, you’re a beautiful woman.’

  She eyed him warily, his words sizzling through her, igniting parts of her she’d rather not contemplate.

  Compliments from the guy? No. She’d have to nip that concept in the bud. ‘Save the flattery for someone who cares.’

  He pursed his lips, a smile playing on his mouth. ‘I’m sure that even though you’ve been hurt by some insensitive idiots in the past—’

  Her heart slammed against her ribs, all her blood draining to her feet. Had he had her investigated? Did he know what Dean had done to her? Know whose daughter she was and was just playing with her? ‘How do you know that?’

  He shrugged. ‘You’re in Women Against Womanisers, aren’t you? It stands to reason that you must have had a bad experience or two.’

  Jess couldn’t help but sigh, some tension leaving her body, knowing her secret was safe.

  ‘But you can’t be immune to a man telling you how incredibly dazzling your emerald-green eyes are—how full and sweet your lips look, just begging to be kissed…’

  Jess swung her attention back to the doors, clenching her fists by her sides, her body heating at the thought of his strong sexy lips exploring hers, of how his touch would feel, how her body would feel pressed against his.

  She swallowed hard, smothering the idiocy of her thoughts. ‘I assure you, they’re not begging.’

  ‘I beg to differ.’

  Her cheeks burned. Did the
man really find her so attractive that he could barely control himself?

  ‘Are you so desperate for attention,’ she bit out with all the ice she could muster, ‘that you have to charm every woman who comes in your radius?’

  He moved up beside her, crossing his arms, a smile playing on his lips. ‘Not at all. I was just practising what you’ve been telling me.’

  She opened her mouth, a dozen curses gathering on her tongue. The nerve of the man! Wasn’t it enough that she had to put up with him for the day? Let alone his teasing her with his charms? ‘Well, don’t. And I’m trying to get you to stop the empty flattery.’

  ‘Right.’ The doors opened and Calahan stepped out of the lift. ‘But are you sure those lips aren’t begging?’ he asked, then strode through the foyer.

  Jess followed, forcing her legs to move, willing her blood to cool, her fists to relax, her teeth to part.

  This guy wasn’t human. He was a demon sent to torture her—and, by goodness, she had to be no angel.

  This was war.

  Lucas was waiting for him in his office. Alex could see by his expression that his friend hadn’t been having half the fun he’d had that morning.

  ‘What’s up?’

  Lucas stared over Alex’s shoulder.

  Alex strode to his desk and swung around to face the most intriguing woman on the planet—and one hell of challenge.

  Gawd, she was hot. And her buttons were getting easier to push. He just had to find out which ones would let him in, so he could melt her icy demeanour and have her looking for the love she deserved in her life.

  ‘Jess, I’m sure you’d love a coffee,’ he offered lightly, trying to ignore the stirring deep within him at her confidence, her beauty, and those sparkling emerald eyes. ‘There’s a kitchenette down the hall—third door on the left.’

  She stood rooted to the spot, her green eyes drifting from Lucas to himself, as though she was reluctant to leave him.

  He touched his jaw, his gut tight. What was going on in the woman’s head? One minute he’d swear she didn’t mind him; next minute she was spitting fire…

  ‘If you get lost, just ask Mrs Samuels—she’ll help you out. I’ll only be a few minutes sorting things out here, and then we can get back to seriously sorting me out.’