by Alexia Adams
“I’ll explain in a minute,” he whispered against her skin. She tamped down the shiver of awareness that ran from her hand up her arm and into her belly. He kept hold of her, toying with her engagement ring with his thumb. Pasting on a smile in case they were being watched, she pulled her hand away and edged closer toward the end of the bench. What kind of game was he playing? Was this some sort of payback for the way she’d left? Rubbing her nose in what could have been?
As if she hadn’t thought about that enough in the past decade.
Sheryl returned two minutes later with Styrofoam cups. The Frenchwoman in Analise was appalled to see the treasured liquid subjected to such degradation. She’d had coffee served to her in gold-rimmed glasses in a Bedouin tent in the middle of the desert; who was to say what passed for civilization?
Erik pulled out his wallet, but Sheryl put her hand up. “It’s on the house.”
“Thanks, Sheryl. We’ll see you around,” Erik called out as they left the coffee shop.
As they stood on the sidewalk Analise looked left and right. Nope, not much had changed. The bank had a new coat of paint, and a bench had been installed in the empty lot next to the bakery. Erik led her toward it, his arm around her shoulder. The warmth of his hand began to melt the ice walls she’d built around herself to survive the past few weeks. And, given the spectacular failure of her plan to slip in and out of town unknown, she was likely going to need that protective wall in the near future. Because once she let herself feel, there’d be a flood of emotion to contend with.
“So, we’re engaged? I thought I’d agreed to have a coffee with you, not become your wife. You work fast, Prairie Boy.” Analise took a sip of her coffee and grimaced as the stale, bitter liquid scorched her tongue. She poured out the rest on the ground.
A full-on grin split his face at her use of the old nickname. Sunshine glinted off his ripe-wheat colored hair, and ten years evaporated in an instant. “Yeah, sorry about that. I guess if you show up with your arm around a woman who’s wearing a diamond big enough to put an eye out, people will leap to conclusions—the exercise of choice in this town.”
She raised an eyebrow at him while her heart did that odd flip-flop thing. How could she ever have forgotten how gorgeous he was? Or the way he once made her feel—like she was the most important woman in the world to him? “That accounts for Sheryl’s assumption, but not the fact that you didn’t deny it.”
“I wanted to see what if felt like to be engaged to you. We could have been, you know.”
“That’s the past, Erik. We can’t resurrect it.”
“Maybe it’s just dormant, waiting for the two of us to get back together.”
Analise doused the flame of hope that dared flicker to life in her chest. Hadn’t her heart taken enough of a beating in the last few months? She couldn’t let herself be deluded by the memory of a past romance. She’d moved on, become a different person. Undoubtedly, he had as well. Erik wasn’t hers, never really had been.
Although, if Erik had been her fiancé, he might not have put her life in danger time and again. And she wouldn’t be sitting here with a shrapnel wound in her leg and another man’s ring on her finger.
Erik took her hand in his again. His strong fingers massaged the back of her hand. She closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the gentle caress. It had to be the exhaustion and pain warping her judgment.
“Analise, will you pretend to be my fiancée while you’re here?”
The question startled her eyes open. She pulled her hand back. She should have known a man, even Erik, would want to use her for his own ends. “For what purpose?”
He ran a hand through his golden locks, making a curl fall boyishly across his forehead. Hadn’t she learned by now how deceiving looks could be? There was nothing boyish about Erik.
“Every time I speak with my mother or grandmother, they ask when I’m going to settle down and get married. I’m here for three weeks. If they ask even once a day, it’s going to drive me insane. We cared for each other once. I’m sure we can fake it now.”
“Have you stopped to consider that maybe I’ve told my grandfather all about my fiancé, and you’re not him?”
Erik stared into her face. “Have you?”
She closed her eyes again. She hadn’t even told her grandfather about the engagement. Her relationship with Jean-Claude had been complicated from the start. In her rational moments, she’d realized she’d mostly stayed with him because it was better than being alone.
She opened her eyes to see Erik’s gaze caressing her face, as though he couldn’t get enough of looking at her. Or maybe he was trying to find the girl she once was. That wasn’t going to happen either. Come on, Analise, get your mind back in the present. “No. But that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” When he stared at her with those blue eyes, she had trouble remembering. Breaking his gaze, she kicked at a dandelion with her foot. The seeds fluttered away in the breeze as though they’d just been waiting for the chance to escape.
“Embarking on this charade is lying to our families.” She’d had enough of lies to last her a lifetime.
“It’s making our families happy for a brief time. It’s my grandparents’ sixty-fifth anniversary, and I don’t want questions about my perpetual bachelorhood to spoil their celebrations. You know how they worry. It’s just for a few weeks, while all the family is here. And I’m sure your grandfather would like to know that someone is looking after you. When we leave, we can wait a respectable time and then announce our breakup. Besides, there is another consideration.”
She loved Erik’s grandparents like they were her own. If she could do anything to make sure they had a fabulous family reunion … She couldn’t lie to herself, though. Three weeks pretending to be Erik’s fiancée was more temptation than she could resist. Her heart still equated Erik with happiness. And she sure could use some of that.
She cocked her head to the side and stared back at him. There was more to this story than Sheryl’s assumption, although he seemed to have run with that. If Erik had really wanted someone to pretend to be his fiancée, she was sure the list of willing candidates would have been a wheat field long. So why her? Especially after what had happened. He clearly had another ace up his sleeve. As a photographer, she could read body language, capture elusive emotions. Erik was hiding something.
Searching his face, she dared to ask, “What else?”
“Has your grandfather told you anything about his business?”
“No, why? I mean, I know he’s scaled back a bit and doesn’t have as many horses.”
Erik took a deep breath and let it out audibly. “He doesn’t have any horses, except that old gelding of yours. The stables are in serious financial difficulty. The bank is foreclosing on Monday.”
“What? Why didn’t he tell me any of this?”
Erik shrugged.
Her grandfather was a proud man and not one who told the world his worries. Closing her eyes, she ran a hand through her hair. “How much to pay off the bank?” She was afraid of the answer.
“Around a hundred thousand dollars.”
“A hundred thousand?”
Analise’s mind whirled. If she sold all her assets, including her apartment and portfolio, she might be able to scrape that amount together. There was no way she’d manage that by Monday, though. “It’ll kill my granddad to lose the stables, especially on top of losing Grandma.” She had to save her grandfather, to atone for all those she hadn’t been able to help.
“I have the money. I can go to the bank and make the transfer tomorrow,” Erik said.
“How do you know all this?”
“One of my cousins works for the municipality, another for the bank. Nothing is really private in a small town like this.”
Don’t I know it.
“So, I pretend to be your fiancée for a few weeks, and you settle my grandfather’s debts until I can pay you back?”
“Exactly. Will you do it?”
“Why are you doing this, Erik? What would you have done if I hadn’t decided to come back to Akureyri today? What if I had brought my fiancé with me?”
“You didn’t, so why worry about what hasn’t happened? Will you pretend to be engaged to me?”
“Can I think about it?” There was something he wasn’t telling. Some other reason he needed a fake fiancée. Could she still trust him?
He glanced over her shoulder before putting his hand to her face. Lowering his head, he took her lips in a kiss so gentle she wondered if she’d imagined it. She was used to her mouth being ravaged. Erik’s soft touch was like a taster, leaving her wanting more. The flicker of happiness grew a touch brighter.
He pulled back a fraction. “Enough time?” He nuzzled her ear, setting off a tingling sensation in her abdomen. “We’re being watched.”
Being watched was nothing new. The French government had let her go, but she was pretty sure they weren’t done screwing with her life. Evidently, Erik was now a hotshot lawyer. Having someone with legal knowledge could come in handy. This could work to her advantage, too.
“Well, I guess it will be all over town within minutes. And if I deny the engagement, it will lead to more questions.” Smile and nod and get out without telling them anything.
“Thank you, Analise. You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”
Enough to make up for the way I left before? They couldn’t go back. But maybe they could part as friends this time. “Just don’t expect too much. I’m not the girl I used to be.”
“Neither of us are the people we used to be.” His phone rang. Glancing down, he gave a wry smile. “It’s my mother. That took longer than I expected.” He answered the call on the fifth ring.
Analise twirled her engagement ring on her finger as she half listened to the snippets of Erik’s mother’s tirade. Jean-Claude would have understood her decision. He’d been all about doing what needed to be done in the moment—and dealing with the fallout, emotional and otherwise, later.
Erik’s voice interrupted her musing. “It was supposed to be a surprise … Yes, Mom, we’re on our way … No, you’ll meet her in a few minutes. We just stopped to grab a coffee … Yes, I know you have coffee there. Listen, you won’t be too clingy, will you? My fiancée isn’t used to such a hands-on family. All right, we’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
He hung up and winked at her. “The show has begun. I guess we’d better go see our families now.”
“I suppose.” Analise had a terrible feeling this whole thing was going to turn into a right pain in the aperture.
“Do you mind if we see my family first? The farm is closer, and my mother might actually explode if she doesn’t see us soon. We can leave your vehicle here and go the rest of the way in my car. We’ll need the time to get our story straight.”
She hesitated, and Erik put his hand on her face again, running his thumb over her chapped lips with a feather-light touch.
“D’accord … okay.” She must’ve been tired; she tended to slip into French when exhausted. “I want to get a vinnaterta from the bakery for my grandfather before we go.”
“No problem.” Erik stood and waited for her. When she rose, he put his arm around her waist. Analise enjoyed the feeling of security. The air was filled with birds singing to each other, and a light breeze blew a gentle warmth against her skin. No bombs, no staccato gunfire. Just peace.
Well, and Erik.
Chapter 2
Ten minutes later, she sat beside him in his BMW, the cake in her lap. One hand was fisted on the seat-belt buckle, the other rested on the door release. She was more skittish than a newborn calf about to be checked over by the vet.
“I’m not going to hurt you, Analise. I will never hurt you,” he said.
She took a deep breath, and he could tell she was forcing herself to relax. “I know. I just like having my own wheels.”
His jaw clenched at the reminder—so she could run again if she wanted. But he needed her cooperation if his plan was going to work. At some point, they’d have to face the past. For now, though, they had to sort out a story good enough to fool his family. He was counting on the fact that bringing home someone they already knew and loved meant they wouldn’t question why he hadn’t told them about Analise before.
“I’ve been living in Europe for the last eighteen months. I assume you’ve been in France?” He glanced at her after he pulled onto the highway. She now clutched the cake box, but at least her knuckles were no longer white.
“Among other places. But yes, I’ve got an apartment in Paris.”
“So we can say we met again when I visited Paris and have carried on a relationship for the past year or so, and we got engaged last week. Your fiancé’s not likely to show up out of the blue, is he?”
Analise paled. “No, Jean-Claude’s out of my life.”
“Your engagement is over? Why are you still wearing the ring?” This was good news … for his plan, of course. He tried to keep the joy out of his voice and failed.
“We were together for a very long time. I guess I’m still coming to grips with the fact he’s gone.”
“I’m sorry.” His smile disappeared at her evident agony.
“I’ll get over it, eventually.”
“I can see how hard this is for you.” He paused and softened his voice. “Still, for appearance’s sake, I wish you were wearing my ring … ”
“You’re not walking around with an engagement ring in your pocket, are you?”
He clenched his teeth. The answer to that question was going to take longer than the short ride to his grandparents’ farm to explain. He kept quiet, hoping she wouldn’t pursue that line of questioning.
Eventually, she said, “So, you’ve been working in Europe. Whereabouts?”
Easier. Keep to the facts, counsellor. “London. I’m a mergers and acquisitions lawyer at Douglas and Wilder. They’re based in Lincoln’s Inn Fields, and I have a flat in Islington. What do you do?”
“I’m a freelance photographer. I’ve been working all over the world, mostly in Africa and the Middle East. I haven’t spent a lot of time in Europe the last couple of years, so if you get specific about places we’ve supposedly been, let me know.”
“I’ve been working nonstop on a very large takeover bid for the past year and a half. I’ve only had a few weekends free. None of my family came to visit, because I couldn’t get the time off to show them around. The merger finally went through last month, so I’ve got six weeks’ leave. I plan on staying three weeks with my family, then I have a holiday booked in the Seychelles. How long will you be in Manitoba?”
“I had hoped to convince my grandfather to take a trip to Iceland with me. Aside from that, I haven’t any definite plans.”
How much did her broken engagement figure into her lack of plans? She was the girl who had run out on him. Maybe she’d had a taste of her own medicine this time. Deep down, though, he hated to see her hurting. Damn it, would part of him always care for her?
Erik pulled off the highway onto the dusty gravel road that led to their respective grandparents’ farms. Two minutes up the road, he stopped the car.
“Forgot the way?” For the first time since she’d gotten into the car, she looked at him fully.
He reached out and took her left hand. “Analise, I know this is going to come across as insensitive, but … will you wear my ring? It doesn’t feel right pretending to be your fiancé with another man’s ring on your finger. Especially one as big as that rock. I’ve got money, but there’s no way my family would believe I bought something so … ostentatious. Was your fiancé compensating for something?”
She stared at the diamond on her finger. “I think what jewelry I’m wearing is the least of our worries.”
To his relief, she twisted the ring off her finger and then tucked it into her pocket. He dug into his jeans’ pocket, pulled out a platinum band, and slid it on her finger. While the diamond wasn’t as large as the one
she’d been wearing, it was cut and displayed more elegantly. It suited her long fingers, and they both stared at it.
It fit.
His eyes met hers. Did she feel like she’d been slapped in the face by the past as well?
“Are you going to tell me why you have an engagement ring in your pocket?” There was a note of steel in her voice, like this was all too convenient for her to believe. But that was what made him a damn good lawyer—his ability to think fast and turn a situation to his advantage. He’d just never expected to do it slipping his ring on a woman’s finger.
“That’s a conversation that needs to take place over a couple of beers,” he replied, forcing a note of humor into his voice. He restarted the car before she could demand an explanation. As she slid on her sunglasses, he noted the deep shadows under her eyes and the pain in their aqua depths. A twinge of guilt pinched his heart. He’d just conned an exhausted, heartbroken woman into pretending to be his fiancée. To make up for it, he’d play the part to the best of his ability. High-school drama classes, don’t fail me now.
Five minutes later, they pulled into the long driveway that led to his grandparents’ farm.
“It’s exactly the same,” Analise said, a slight catch in her voice. “Nothing has changed.” Was she remembering the last time she’d been there? He reached over and squeezed her hand lightly.
The light blue, single-story house with navy trim did look just the same. Baskets and planters surrounded the dwelling and overflowed with a variety of blooms in every color imaginable. He hadn’t lied back in the café. This would always be home.
“Some things have changed—my parents are divorced, and my father recently remarried. He and his new wife are coming on the weekend for the family reunion and my grandparents’ sixty-fifth anniversary. My mother is here as well, so it’s bound to be very tense. That’s one of the reasons I’ve come early, to support her.”
“Your mother still lives in the same house?”
“Yes. She gets on with my dad’s family better than my father did. Mom never really got over my sister’s death. Sometimes she still talks as though Karen is alive.”