Falling for Her Fake Fianc?

by Sue MacKay

  Cherie’s death had changed him. The loss of their child before he or she had seen the light of day had crippled him. But losing Cherie had been indescribable. All he really knew was he couldn’t face that again. The guilt at not realising what was happening still ate at him, demanded a price be paid. Staying single and focused on helping as many folk as possible through his career was that price, and one he was comfortable with.

  So Kelli. He was more than okay with helping her out as long as he kept his mind-set in front. Mac swallowed the bile at the back of his throat. Irony was a bitter pill. He’d offered to be Kelli’s fiancé for the weekend. For longer if that was what it took to sort out Jason. But he couldn’t take on the role for real. As tempting as it might become. He would not. That meant opening his heart wide, letting Kelli in to everything that made him tick, risking hurt.

  Kelli was pushing away from the table. ‘Time I headed home. See you tomorrow.’

  ‘Not so fast.’ Mac was upright, the tab in his hand. ‘I’ll get this then give you a ride home.’

  Ride. That damned word again. When Kelli had used it earlier his brain had not been picturing her sitting in his four-wheel drive, that was for sure.

  Nor had hers if that cute shade of pink pouring into her cheeks was an indicator.

  ‘I don’t need you running around after me.’

  ‘So you said last night, and I’m giving back the same reply. I am giving you a—lift.’ Better, not perfect, but one degree up from ride. ‘I heard you tell your mother your car is in the workshop until tomorrow.’ Sensible talk might abate the growing need to touch this tantalising woman, to hold her close and feel her skin against his, and kiss her until his world spun. Might. Didn’t. His world was already spinning. He wanted a hug and kiss. He wanted the whole nine yards. With Kelli. The sex nine yards, not the commitment nine yards. Which made him a heel. Not who he was or wanted to be.

  ‘Tomorrow I’ll pick you up for lunch as repayment,’ Miss Independence muttered.

  Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow his head and body would be back under control and he’d be able to talk sense. Tonight he was all out of any kind of sense. ‘Let’s go.’

  The sooner they hit the road, the sooner he’d be on his own and able to loosen off the tension gripping him in unexpected places. This was only a fleeting problem.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ‘HI, MUM,’ KELLI answered her phone. ‘How’s your day going?’

  ‘From bad to worse. I can’t make lunch, my girl. Those imbeciles at the catering company say they can’t get crayfish for the entrée. Something about an order not going through. I can forgive them that, everyone makes mistakes.’

  Huh? Can I have whatever it is you’re on, Mum? ‘But?’

  ‘They’ve done nothing about coming up with a suitable replacement dish. The wedding’s only three days away. What’s wrong with these people?’ Her distress poured through the ether.

  ‘Take a breath, Mum. A big one.’ Think, Kelli, think. Find a solution. Mum needs a solution. ‘Do you know where the caterers were getting the crayfish from?’

  ‘The caterers said the Kaikoura region but supplies are intermittent from there since the earthquake so you’d think they’d have outsourced further afield.’

  ‘You could have a chicken entrée. A vegetarian one.’

  ‘Wash your mouth out, my girl. This is me you’re suggesting that to. The queen of organising events does not take a soft option when something goes wrong.’

  How true. Mum hated to be wrong-footed.

  So think of something. Someone. Ah.

  ‘Jack Harris. You know, Andy’s mate from university. He runs a fishing company in Milford Sound. Lots of crayfish down there. Get Andy to call him asap.’

  ‘Kelli, darling, you’re a gem. Why didn’t I think of that? Jack’s coming up for the wedding, too.’

  Kelli let out a relieved sigh. ‘He can bring cartons of live lobsters under his arm.’

  ‘Have you got an answer for my next problem?’ Mum asked. ‘I’ve learned this morning that one of the bridesmaids gets seasick and airsick.’

  ‘The helicopter will be a lot faster than the ferry. Fill her up with travel pills but don’t overdose her as she’ll need to be fully compos once she’s on Waiheke.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly. Guess there’s really no other way round this one. I’ll go talk to my friendly pharmacist.’

  ‘You’ve got a busy morning, Mum.’

  ‘I’m sorry to cancel lunch. I’ve got too much to sort out. And your father’s busy with his Sydney counterpart.’ Not a lot of conviction in Mum’s voice about Dad being unable to do lunch. That was definitely an add-on. ‘Friday will have to be it.’

  ‘Sure, not a problem.’ The relief at her reprieve just wasn’t coming. Instead disappointment was the dominating emotion. She wanted her parents to meet Mac? Today instead of Friday? Not making sense here, Kelli.

  Mac was a temporary fix, not a lifelong commitment. Commitment? Didn’t she mean decision? Commitment? No way. He was a sexy hunk, an intelligent man with a sense of humour that he occasionally let out of the bag, but commitment material? When she wasn’t ready to commit to anyone? Hadn’t completely laid the past to bed? Mac never hesitated saying she looked good, which gave her hope and relief and some happiness. But... But she wasn’t one hundred per cent certain she could trust herself in believing him. She’d once believed Steve loved her and look how that ended.

  ‘You still there, Kelli?’

  ‘Friday night it is.’ When there would be a crowd of family to dilute the impact on Mac and hopefully not scare him away until after the wedding.

  Next she called Mac. ‘Lunch’s cancelled. Mum’s got problems to sort for Saturday.’

  ‘Let’s go anyway. I’ll still pick you up a little after twelve.’ Click.

  Thought I was picking you up.

  This was a bit like a date. No, it was a date. Possibly a backhanded one, but she and Mac going out. She needed to get a wriggle on and collect her car, then go get her dress from the dry-cleaner’s. Then make sure she looked perfect for her ‘date’. With Mac. A smile lifted her mouth and warmth crept in under her skin. That skirt and the blouse with three-quarter-length sleeves she’d created for autumn were about to get their first outing.

  Stop it. You’re getting too keen on the man, and there are no guarantees he won’t hurt you.

  If only she could drop the mantra. Learn to accept who she was and demand everyone else do the same.

  * * *

  Mac held open the four-wheel drive’s door, his gaze fixed on her thighs. ‘You look stunning. Is that skirt new?’

  Kelli automatically ran her hand down the soft leather of her short black skirt, one she hadn’t had any opportunities to wear, what with being away in Fiji since the weather had begun to cool into autumn. It fitted perfectly and the red top made to hide her large breasts wasn’t too shabby either. But stunning? ‘You say the nicest things.’

  ‘Kelli,’ Mac growled. ‘I mean it. I am not trying to suck up to you by uttering niceties for the sake of it. If I hadn’t liked the effect I’d have kept quiet.’

  That took her breath away, along with the ability to reply. Mac believed she looked stunning. Those butterflies started up behind her ribs, flappity flap. He was way more than a quick fix to her weekend problem. With an abrupt nod she concentrated on pulling her seat belt into place. Her fingers weren’t as steady as they should be, and those butterflies had relatives beating in her tummy. Stunning. Might be an exaggeration, but she could live with that. Enjoy it, grab it and pretend it was true—until proven otherwise. How’s that for standing strong?

  Mac pulled out onto the street. ‘Will the booking at Cardo’s still be available?’

  ‘Yes.’ Cardo’s always had a table available for her family or
any Barnett family business meals. ‘Are you sure you want to go there? I don’t mind if you change the plan.’

  ‘And miss out on the best seafood ravioli in the city? I don’t think so.’

  ‘You frequent Cardo’s?’ The man had taste. What was there not to like about him? Like? Try adore. Something stronger? L-lo... No. No. Please no. Her mouth clamped shut.

  ‘I wouldn’t say frequent, but I go there occasionally when I can’t be bothered to make my own pasta, or I need to get out of the apartment for a few hours because I’m sick of my own company.’

  The clamp slipped. ‘You make your own pasta?’ This man just kept on getting better and better. He wasn’t only a very good doctor and a good-looking hunk at the gym. He made pasta. Please, not the L word. That would wreck everything.

  ‘Beats the packet stuff any day.’ Mac smiled. Or was that a smirk?

  ‘Who’d have thought it? Where did you learn to do that?’

  ‘Mum’s parents came out from Italy to Wellington sixty years ago.’

  ‘So you grew up on Italian food. I’m so jealous.’

  ‘Don’t be. We only had it as a treat. My father thought eating pasta was like eating flour and water.’ The smile had gone, his mouth now grim. ‘He refused any kind of Italian food.’

  ‘You aren’t close?’ Definitely some problem there. His hands were gripping the steering wheel and his arms were tight. As were his thighs, she noted as she cruised down his body.

  ‘Not at all. He passed away ten years ago.’ The four-wheel drive jerked as Mac roared away on the green light. ‘We didn’t see eye to eye on anything.’

  Thoughtlessly she placed her hand on his forearm, felt the tension in the muscles under her palm. Went to withdraw, decided against it. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Mac didn’t shrug her away. ‘Don’t worry about it. It’s old hat.’

  Yes, and still hurts. ‘I got lucky. My family might be bossy and like to run my life for me at times, but we are close. Even the two, soon to be three, sisters-in-law fit right in.’

  ‘Is that another reason for them foisting Jason on you? He already fits in.’

  ‘You might have a point. He’s someone we all know well, no hidden agendas.’

  ‘Interesting.’

  Maybe. ‘Did you grow up in Wellington?’ She needed to know stuff too, right?

  ‘Yep, Lyall Bay, where many Italians settled years back. Dad desperately wanted to move away but as my nonno bought the house I grew up in as a wedding gift to my parents Dad was tied. Something he resented all his married life.’

  ‘Nonno? Grandfather?’

  ‘Yeah. A fabulous old guy. Loved him to bits.’ The tension backed off.

  Loved, as in the past. Someone else Mac had lost. ‘Your mother?’

  ‘Still lives in the same house, only now it’s party central for seniors. My word, not hers. She is getting older and wiser, but she’s not a senior, if you please.’ Mac was smiling softly. ‘Croquet, Bridge games, Tai Chi. You name it, it happens at Maria’s place.’

  Kelli had never seen him so relaxed. His mother was special to him. ‘Do you get to see her often?’

  ‘I try to get down every couple of months, but I don’t always make it. I’m going the weekend after the wedding.’

  ‘You didn’t cancel this weekend for me, did you?’ She’d feel terrible when Mac obviously adored his mother.

  ‘No. It’s her birthday in ten days and I’m taking a crowd of her cronies to dinner at one of the top restaurants in town. Can you imagine what that’s going to be like? A dozen seniors who think they’re teenagers in wrinkly skin.’

  The laughter wouldn’t hold back. Kelli bent forward as it roared out of her. ‘Bedlam, I reckon,’ she finally managed to gasp. ‘You are going to be toast, mister. They will give you endless teasing and stress.’ What she wouldn’t give to see that.

  ‘You’re sounding too gleeful. Might have to extend the engagement to cover the following weekend. Wouldn’t my fiancée attend her future mother-in-law’s birthday?’

  Careful what you wish for, Kelli. Not laughing now.

  ‘You’d tell her the same stuff we’re going to tell my family? For what reason?’

  ‘To make you eat your words.’ He grinned back. ‘But no, I won’t do that. She’d get too excited and smother you with love and questions.’

  ‘Your mother wants you settled down?’ It did make sense. Mac had to be in his mid-thirties. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Yes, she does. Thirty-six. And before you ask, I am a widower.’

  Her lungs deflated like popped balloons. The fun evaporated. The black hole he’d fallen into. The reason he kept aloof—except not always with her. No idea what that meant. ‘That’s sad. Awful. Hell, I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘You’re doing fine.’ Mac flicked her a dark look. ‘It’s all been said a hundred times. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that people care enough to say something. It’s just that it doesn’t make a handful of difference.’ He drew a breath. ‘Thank you for caring.’

  For a man who didn’t put much out there that was some speech. ‘So time’s not the greatest healer?’ Did this explain why he’d left her that night? Not because he’d changed his mind about her, but because he’d remembered how much he loved his wife?

  He grunted. ‘I guess it has helped. It’s been four years. Sometimes I feel as though she went only yesterday, but more often lately I am aware it’s been a long while.’ He scrubbed a hand down his face. ‘But not long enough.’

  ‘This was what you were referring to when I asked why you were helping me.’

  ‘Yeah.’ His fingers were tight on the steering wheel. ‘After Cherie died I was in a bad place. Not sleeping, barely eating, struggling to get through a day’s work without making mistakes. Basically I hated being alive.’ His chest rose, fell back. ‘My mentor at the hospital turned up one morning and hauled me out of ED, drove me to his cabin two hours away in the hills where there was nothing, no one, but the trees, the weather and the birds.’

  ‘That’d be confronting.’

  ‘It got more so. Tom stayed the first night with me, told me how I’d nearly screwed up with a patient—I hadn’t even noticed—and that I had to get my act together. He understood what I was going through because he’d lost his wife two years earlier. Then he just sat and waited and, sure enough, the words spilled, my pain, my grief, not understanding why it had to happen to me and Cherie, everything.’ His voice was barely a whisper.

  Kelli laid her hand on his thigh.

  ‘He left the next morning, telling me he’d be back at the end of the week. Thought I’d go mad at first. The bush was quiet, even the birdsong didn’t register with me. With nothing to occupy my mind I couldn’t hold back all the images of Cherie and our future I’d been denying.’ Mac cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, I survived the week and went back to work totally focused on why I was there. Tom saved me that day, and I’ll never forget it.’

  Out of words without sounding crass or condescending, Kelli kept quiet for the rest of the ride to the restaurant. But her mind whirled. No wonder he was so serious. Or had appeared to be until she’d begun getting to know him better. How did anyone get over losing the love of their life? Because that was who Mac’s wife would’ve been. He didn’t do things by halves, would’ve loved her with all his being. Kelli had been devastated when her ninety-two-year-old grandmother died quietly in her sleep one night after a good innings. Nothing like what Mac must’ve dealt with.

  ‘Must be my lucky day,’ Mac said with forced lightness as he swung into a park directly over the road from Cardo’s.

  Kelli placed her hand in his forearm. Touching him a lot lately. ‘If you want to cancel I won’t beat you up.’

  ‘Miss out on tortellini? I don’t think so. Come on. Hustle your butt, wo
man. I’m starving.’ This time there was warmth in his voice and a soft smile that went straight to her belly to spread heat in all directions. Which was not a good idea when she’d just learned that Mac wasn’t in the running for a new partner. He was still grieving for his wife.

  Definitely the wake-up call she needed to get back on track with keeping their bizarre relationship story working and not spreading into something neither of them wanted. Because, despite feeling closer to Mac than ever before, she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Strange how she had to keep reminding herself when being with Mac felt so right. ‘Pizza for me.’

  ‘Eat some real food, woman. You’ll work it off at the gym tonight, I bet.’

  She shook her head. ‘Pizza.’ Mac might like her shape but there was that tight dress to wear to the wedding.

  ‘Hello, Kelli. The family table?’ The head waiter gave her a friendly smile.

  ‘If it’s available, James. I don’t want to put you out.’

  ‘No problem. After you.’ He picked up two menus, the wine list, and waved a hand in the direction of their table tucked into a private corner of the spacious restaurant.

  After hearing about her parents not being able to come, James removed two of the settings as Kelli and Mac settled into their places.

  Mac waved away the wine menu. ‘It’ll have to be water or something equally innocuous. Kelli?’

  ‘Water for me. And I’ll have a margherita pizza.’

  Mac placed his order, then sat back to look around at the lunchtime crowd filling the room. ‘It’s always busy in here.’

  ‘And noisy. The food’s fun, the atmosphere’s fun.’ The company was fun. Though after that revelation about his wife Kelli no longer felt she was on a date with Mac. She didn’t know what she felt, but that excitement had evaporated.

  ‘Relax and enjoy, Kelli. I didn’t mean to spoil our time together.’

  ‘How do you know what I was thinking?’

  ‘You have a very expressive face. Especially when you’re not with patients you’re trying to keep details from.’