Her Faux Fiancé

by Alexia Adams

  Tracy moved to stand in front, her critical eye surveying her handiwork. “And I bet you didn’t expect Erik’s grandmother to insist that you wear her fifty-pound veil, either. Still, wear it up the aisle to make her happy, then we can ditch it later for the reception.”

  “Thank God. I think my neck is going to snap. They sure made brides a lot stronger in the old days.”

  “Well, if it’s any consolation, they didn’t make them any more beautiful. I can’t believe you got that dress in less than a week. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

  Tracy moved to the side, and Analise surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. She’d been so glad when Tracy had offered to help her get ready. If it had been left to her and her grandfather, she’d have had half the million buttons down the back undone. Roving her critical photographer eye over the woman in the mirror, she gave a slight nod of acceptance. The dress did look nice, and the flowers picked this morning from Erik’s grandmother’s garden were bright and cheery and full of gorgeous perfume. She took a deep breath near the lavender, hoping the calming scent would soothe the butterflies fluttering in her belly.

  Still staring at her reflection, Analise had to clear her throat before she could talk. “Tracy, how did you feel on your wedding day?”

  “Excited, nervous, terrified. All the way up the aisle I thought I was going to vomit. Then, when I saw Brent standing there, looking like he’d just won the lottery, all of a sudden it made sense. The rest of the day was one of the happiest of my life, only eclipsed by the days our children were born.”

  Analise smiled. Would seeing Erik have the same curative powers, or would the doubts that had plagued her all night long come back twofold? She’d promised not to leave him at the altar, but she couldn’t guarantee she wouldn’t bolt as soon as the minister asked if anyone had a reason why the marriage shouldn’t take place. Excuse me, but I can’t actually marry this man because I think I might be falling in love with him again, and if this ends badly I may not be able to put the pieces back together this time.

  A tentative knock on the door made Tracy scurry to answer the summons. Analise held her breath; she didn’t know if she could handle more interference from Erik’s mother. Her soon-to-be mother-in-law had already been to the small dressing room three times in the last forty minutes. Thankfully, Tracy had managed to get her to leave within five minutes of each invasion. Analise prepared herself for whatever Susan Sigurdson could suggest next. Because if it were any more ridiculous baby names, Analise would run screaming from the building. Primrose if it was a girl? Really?

  Instead, standing at the door was her grandfather, resplendent in a three-piece suit, a red rose, and a spray of baby’s breath in his buttonhole. His silver hair had been brushed back off his face, and his cheeks were freshly shaven. He was a little older but once again looked the vibrant man who had hugged her till she couldn’t breathe as a teenager.

  “You’re beautiful, sweet. Are you ready?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be, Afi.”

  Tracy followed behind, bundling the long veil so Analise could walk without her head being pulled backward by the weight. As they approached the doors to the ballroom where the ceremony and the reception were to be held, her grandfather paused.

  “Are you sure about this?” His voice was gruff with emotion.

  Analise put her arms around him, tucking her head under his chin as she’d done all those years ago. His heartbeat was strong, and the arms that wrapped around her back held her tightly. She gave him one final squeeze before pulling back.

  “I’m sure. Erik is a good, caring man. He’ll look after me almost as well as you.”

  “He better,” Afi declared.

  The music began, and she was walking up the aisle on her grandfather’s arm. As she neared, her eyes met Erik’s. He didn’t quite look like he’d won the lottery, but pretty close. They could make this work. All was right with her life, if only for one brief moment.

  • • •

  Analise wasn’t sure which hurt more, her cheeks or her feet. The new heels pinched her big toe until it throbbed. She alternated slipping her shoes off each foot until she wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to get the footwear back on again. The photographer, although nice, had insisted on taking 600 shots of her and Erik with endless variations of family in the background. Next time she married, it would be to a man with fewer relatives.

  “How you holding up?” Erik asked as the photographer went off to find another memory card or download some of the photos onto her laptop.

  “My feet are killing me, my cheeks may never be the same again, and if one more person asks if I can feel the baby yet, I’ll give them a kick,” she said through a smile.

  Erik caressed her face. “If it’s any consolation, you’re doing a fabulous job. My grandmother and mother are in tears.”

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  “Yes, they’re tears of joy. Trust me, if they weren’t happy, I’d have heard about it. And have you noticed? Mom has stayed sober.”

  “I did notice. I’m glad she’s hopefully getting better.” Analise looked around at the crowd. “Weddings aren’t really for the bride and groom, are they?” The room had been transformed from wedding chapel to reception banquet hall in the hour they’d been outside taking photos.

  “No, that’s what honeymoons are for. Speaking of which, I’ve booked us a room at the Hecla Island Resort for tonight and tomorrow night, and then from next Friday we’ve got two weeks in the Seychelles to truly relax.”

  “Sounds heavenly.” She sighed. The thought of two weeks in the sun with nothing to do except read and get to know Erik was just what she needed to make it through the rest of the evening.

  Erik put his arm around her waist, and they strolled over to where Brent and Tracy were conversing with another couple around the same age. Analise smiled and nodded, hoping her nods were in time with the general conversation. She let the words buzz over her, already trying to picture herself lying on the beach, Erik’s strong fingers working out a particularly stubborn knot in her neck muscles. As she was imagining his hands moving from her neck down to her back to untie her bikini top, she felt him stiffen next to her. His hand at her waist tensed.

  She glanced up at her new husband to see him staring at the doorway, a scowl on his face. Despite the endless parade of relatives, a few of whom she knew he didn’t particularly care for, he’d never once showed anything but a welcoming smile. Who could elicit such a negative response from Erik?

  “What the hell is she doing here?” he muttered. “Excuse me,” he said to the group before striding over to the door.

  “Who’s that?” Brent asked. The woman had a huge smile on her face as she saw Erik advancing toward her. But rather than welcoming her to the party, Erik grabbed her arm and steered her out the door before anyone could blink.

  “She’s not a relative?” Analise glanced around the room to see if anyone else had noticed the odd behavior. Everyone seemed engrossed in their own conversations, waiting for the call to dinner.

  “I’ve never seen her before,” Brent replied. “Erik didn’t seem too happy to see her.”

  Should she follow her husband, or should she stay and wait for him to return and explain? Trust was the cornerstone of any solid relationship. But the possessive way the unknown woman had looked at Erik made the hairs on the back of Analise’s neck stand on end.

  “Analise, where’s Erik? We want to get started on the supper and need him to announce it and ask everyone to sit down,” her new mother-in-law said.

  Just the excuse she needed.

  “I’ll go find him. I think he stepped out for a minute. Maybe Brent could make the announcement; we’ll be back to sit at the head table in a minute.”

  Erik’s mother ambled toward the front table while Brent eyed the microphone with distaste. “I hate talking into those things,” he said, then went to do as he was asked.

  Analise headed for the door, having to pause seve
ral times while Erik’s relatives commented on her dress or the simple ceremony that had made them man and wife. Finally free, she wandered down the corridor, curious as to what Erik could need to discuss so urgently with this woman that he’d leave their wedding reception. As she approached the corner near the kitchen, she heard Erik’s low tones followed by a woman’s higher-pitched one. Although she couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, the woman seemed distressed, and Erik was trying to soothe her.

  Analise took another couple of steps closer, not sure whether she should interrupt or not, as they were obviously having a private conversation. As she was about to round the corner, she heard Erik distinctly say, “Brenda, listen to me. It’s a marriage of convenience. Analise is pregnant, and I’m helping her out so that she’s not ostracized from the community. I wasn’t carrying on with her while we were together. I’ve known her for ten years. She was my sister’s best friend. We pretended to be engaged when we first arrived to get my mother off my back about getting married, and things escalated from there.”

  Analise leaned against the wall, out of sight. The woman was Erik’s ex-girlfriend, who obviously wanted him back. Too bad she hadn’t arrived a couple of hours ago; she could have saved them all a lot of heartache. Although he’d never said the words, she’d assumed Erik cared for more than just her reputation. She didn’t wait to hear Brenda’s rebuttal. She fled to the bathroom and threw up.

  • • •

  Erik escorted Brenda to her rental car, checking over his shoulder to see if anyone had seen him. Of all the terrible timings, she would have to show up now. She’d probably thought he’d reconsider ending their relationship when surrounded by his family.

  The only thing that had calmed her down after she learned this was his wedding and “someone had stolen her man” was the news that it was a marriage of convenience. He hoped by the time Brenda worked out that he intended to stay married for life, she’d already have found someone else.

  As the taillights of her rental car disappeared, Erik strolled back into the reception hall. Brenda’s unexpected arrival aside, the day had gone brilliantly. Analise looked so beautiful as she held his hand in front of the minister. The fragile, vulnerable look had disappeared from her eyes, and she finally seemed ready to blossom. Even the nausea that had plagued her for the past week seemed to have passed.

  Entering the dining room, he was surprised to see two empty spots at the head table. The rest of the guests were already seated, and the wait staff was busy serving the first course. His mother waved to him frantically. Ignoring her, he made his way over to Brent.

  “Where’s Analise?” he tried to ask nonchalantly, but a hint of panic entered his voice.

  “She went to find you. Thought maybe you two were having a little pre-wedding night cuddle in the corridor.”

  “She’s probably freshening up in the ladies’ room. I’ll go check,” Tracy offered.

  Erik did his best to quell the sense of impending disaster that made his stomach sink to his knees. Could Analise have overheard him trying to calm Brenda?

  His mother was still waving at him, so he wandered over to the head table as though nothing were amiss. His grandparents were tucking into their salads, oblivious to the fact that one of the central figures of the day was missing. He took his seat and toyed with his food as he kept his eyes riveted on the door. After what seemed an eternity, Analise finally returned with Tracy.

  He tried to tell if she was upset or had simply been freshening up. She wore the glacial mask that she’d had on so frequently during her first week in Manitoba. The look that said while her body was here, her mind and spirit were on some tropical island having a much better time. He knew it was a coping mechanism she employed to distance herself from the trauma of her work. It did not bode well for him that she was behaving that way now.

  As she approached, she plastered a smile on her lips that didn’t reach her eyes. She stopped and kissed both his grandparents on the cheek, wishing them a wonderful anniversary before taking the seat next to him.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Fine,” was her monosyllabic reply. Which, of course, meant the exact opposite.

  For the rest of the evening Analise played the part of blushing bride to perfection. They danced the first dance with his grandparents sharing the floor. Each couple cut a cake, wedding or anniversary. He was sure if he asked any of the attendees, they’d have said that both couples were spectacularly in love and that sixty-five years from now they’d be celebrating another anniversary.

  Only Erik, aware of how tightly Analise was holding herself, of the vacant aspect of her smile, knew all was not rosy at the head table.

  • • •

  Analise stepped into the tiny hotel room and flung herself on the bed. What the hell is wrong with me? Will I never learn? I let myself get lost in the romance again. Forgot it’s all for show. Hearing Erik tell his ex-girlfriend that the marriage meant nothing to him hurt beyond belief. It wasn’t as if the news was new to her. But to hear him explain the reasons for their marriage had shattered every illusion she’d built up over the past five days. Once again, her world had come crashing down. Only by channeling all her inner focus had she been able to see the evening through without running screaming from the banquet hall.

  The hour drive up to Hecla had been conducted in complete silence. Erik had concentrated on the dark road, darting worried glances in her direction, obviously not knowing how to broach the subject that loomed between them.

  The click of the door heralded his arrival in the room. She rolled over on the bed and stared at her husband. In all her girlhood dreams, this was not how she had imagined her wedding night. Although, Erik, in his perfectly fitted suit, certainly fit the bill of a dream man. Too bad it was all just a fantasy.

  He leaned against the door, not advancing into the room. Had he arranged to meet Brenda here? Was he just going to explain and then head down the hall to her? Perhaps seeing his ex-girlfriend again had reminded him of all they had in common—of how much easier their lives would mesh together. Analise clutched her stomach, willing her dinner to stay inside.

  “Are you feeling sick?” He was at her side in an instant. “Can I get you some water? A cool washcloth? Is your leg bothering you?”

  She leveraged herself up, glad Tracy had helped her change out of her wedding dress before they’d left. Wearing a tailored pantsuit, it was much easier to flee to the bathroom should she need to vomit.

  “My leg is fine. I’m fine.”

  “You keep saying that when you’re obviously not. You heard me talking to Brenda, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. But honestly, Erik, it’s no big deal. We both know this marriage is a sham, like our engagement. We don’t even need to wait till the baby is born. In a month or so we can cite irreconcilable differences, and then you can go back to Brenda. I hope she understood and is willing to wait. Of course, if you want to see her in the meantime … ”

  Erik knelt on the floor and took her hand in his. “Listen, I said those things to her so she wouldn’t make a scene. Can you imagine the questions if she announced that less than a month ago she was my girlfriend? I didn’t want our wedding day, or my grandparents’ anniversary party, to be tainted by her tantrum. I have absolutely no intention of ever seeing her again, much less getting back together with her.”

  He said it with such sincerity that she believed him. He’d asked her to trust him. This seemed a good time to start. Plus, she was the one with both his rings on her finger. She’d prove she was the right woman for him. But not tonight. She was too tired.

  “Je suis bien fatiguée. I’m exhausted. Do you mind if I go to bed now?”

  A flicker of passion blazed in his eyes until she yawned. “Of course. Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? I was reading about morning sickness, and it said that eating small meals more frequently often helps. I could order some toast and tea for you from room service.”

  “Toast and tea? You
’ve been living with the British too long. I’ll have to indoctrinate you in the ways of the French. We’ll start tomorrow. Tonight, I just need to sleep.”

  “If you’re the teacher, I look forward to French class.” His voice dropped, and the sexy way he glanced at her prone body made her reconsider her need for rest. Didn’t they say you got the best sleep after relieving your body of all tension? Before she could suggest he join her on the bed, another yawn contorted her face. Zut, by the time he had his shoes off she’d likely be asleep. Exploring his body would have to wait until tomorrow.

  When she returned from the bathroom, Erik was trying to get comfortable in one of the bucket chairs. “I checked with reception, and they’re all full up, so I can’t get another room,” he explained.

  “Get in the bed, Erik. I’m going to be out like a light in two minutes anyway. I won’t know if you’re next to me or in another room. I should warn you, though, I roll a lot when I sleep. So if you wake up, and I’m on top of you, just push me off.”

  “No way, no how am I going to push my gorgeous wife off me in bed. And in the spirit of honesty, I should warn you that I didn’t pack pajamas.”

  Mine.

  Chapter 14

  Erik woke with Analise’s head on his chest, her hand on his heart, and her thigh flung across his midriff. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm that part of his anatomy that was reacting predictably. She’d warned him that she moved a lot in the bed; what she hadn’t told him was that she did so while wearing very little.

  When she’d emerged from the bathroom last night all she’d had on was a tiny baby-doll nightie that, for the most part, was see-through. He’d then spent ten minutes under a freezing cold shower reminding himself of all the reasons why he couldn’t make love to his bride on their wedding night. Thankfully, as she’d predicted, she’d been fast asleep by the time he came to bed.

  His only hope now was to ease out of bed before she woke. Despite the passionate kisses they’d shared, Analise hadn’t definitively said she wanted to consummate their marriage. And he needed to tread carefully. Their merger was at a critical stage, and if he wanted to make it permanent, then a little restraint now was needed. Analise had to make the first move. Already, though, it was his body in motion. He had to get out of bed while he still could.