Hired Girlfriend, Pregnant Fiancée?
Page 4
‘I didn’t mention the fee.’
Now she looked up. ‘The fee is irrelevant—because I’m not applying for the role.’
‘I understand that, but if you were to agree to this I’m willing to pay you one hundred thousand pounds plus expenses.’
The spoon clattered to the table. ‘Are you nuts?’
‘Nope.’
‘I guarantee you can get someone a lot cheaper than that.’
‘I don’t want someone else. I want you.’
Silence stretched taut as awareness joined the party—an awareness that swirled itself around them as he realised the truth of the words. He did want her. Right now he wanted to lean across the table and kiss her, taste the chocolate on her lips, entwine his fingers in the glossy sheen of chestnut hair, and then he wanted to...
Stop!
‘You are the obvious choice.’ The words sounded forced, his voice hoarse, and he picked up his espresso. ‘You are the woman I kissed. The woman Edna saw.’
Gabby took her time replying, her cheeks still flushed as if she was able to read his mind. ‘I doubt Edna could pick me out in an identity parade.’
‘Maybe not, but I’d rather not risk it. I get that this isn’t your sort of gig, but think what you could do with the money.’
A dreamy look entered her eyes and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth in clear indecision. Then, ‘You’re right. The money would be great. But I can’t accept the job because it wouldn’t be fair. I couldn’t pull it off. It’s not only the limelight factor.’ Pushing her empty bowl away, she leant forward. ‘In real life I wouldn’t go out with you. So how on earth could I fake it? No one will believe it.’
To his surprise, chagrin punched his chest at her words. ‘Why wouldn’t you go out with me?’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Yes. Because if you tell me then I can work out if we can overcome it or not.’
‘For a start, I would never agree to a temporary, fun, strings-free relationship.’
‘Because you’re looking for a happy-ever-after?’ Try as he might he couldn’t keep the wariness from his voice.
She reached out to cover his arm in an instinctive gesture of comfort. ‘I’m sorry. I know your happy-ever-after ended in tragedy, and I understand why you may want a temporary relationship, but I... I still want a shot at it. One day.’
‘So you won’t embark on any relationship unless it’s with Mr Right?’
‘Let’s say I don’t want to embark on a deliberate relationship with someone who is definitely Mr Wrong.’
‘Fair enough. But you wouldn’t be. This would be a fake relationship.’
‘But I would find it hard to maintain a pretence that goes against my character and my beliefs. That’s hardly going to be easy to pull off, especially when I will be so far out of my depth I’ll be in constant danger of drowning. You’re a “catch.” I’m ordinary and my ideal man is ordinary. You aren’t that.’
A dark memory crossed his soul. Again Claudia’s voice echoed in his imagination.
Why can’t you be happy with what we have, Zan? With what you have? Be happy to be ordinary instead of striving after an extraordinary dream that may ruin us.
As she studied his expression Gabby shook her head. ‘I didn’t mean it as an insult. I just want to explain why you aren’t my type.’
He couldn’t let her get away with that. ‘Don’t you remember that kiss?’
Her lips parted and he wondered if she’d have the gall to deny any memory, to say What kiss? But instead, she shook her hair forward slightly to hide her face.
‘Of course I do. But that didn’t mean anything. It was just an anomaly.’
‘Then why don’t we try it again?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You heard me.’ Zander wasn’t a hundred percent sure where he was going with this but... ‘Why don’t we try it again? Another kiss?’
‘That is a ridiculous idea.’
‘No, it isn’t. Because I don’t think it was an anomaly. On a physical level I think I am your type, and I know you’re mine. And that is exactly why we can pull this off.’
‘Relationships are about more than the physical.’
‘Sure. But without a physical attraction there is no relationship. And in the case of a fun-filled interlude the physical aspect is the most important.’
‘I am not kissing you now.’ Gabby glanced around, then narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I bring my grandma here, for goodness’ sake.’ Her forehead scrunched into a scowl. ‘In fact I am not kissing you ever. If you think you can pay me to—’
‘No!’ How could he, Zander Grosvenor, king of the boardroom, dealmaker extraordinaire, be making such a hash of this? ‘That isn’t what I meant. I don’t want to have a real physical relationship with you.’
Liar, liar, whole suit on fire!
Deep breath. ‘I just want to demonstrate that whether we like it or not, act on it or not, there is a real physical attraction between us—and that means I think we could pull this off. Convince everyone that we are in a real relationship. Even though we won’t be. On any level.’ He leant back. ‘Can you look me in the eye and tell me this attraction is a figment of my imagination?’
Against all odds her eyes scrunched further shut, and then she expelled a sigh. ‘I can’t do that. But believe me, I wish I could.’
Bingo! ‘Then I respect your reservations, and I appreciate your honesty, but I believe we can do this. If I’m wrong that’s my bad—not yours. So what do you think? A few social events and you pocket a hundred grand?’
Indecision hovered on her face, etched her forehead with a crease. She closed her eyes as if picturing the cash.
Finally she opened them and gave a small, decisive nod. ‘OK. I’ll do it. But only if I can tell my grandmother the truth.’
Zander hesitated.
‘She won’t tell a soul. I give you my word. Also, it’s a non-negotiable condition.’
‘Then so be it. You can tell your grandmother. Now, do we have a deal?’
‘We have a deal.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘SO THAT’S HOW I made a deal with Zander Grosvenor.’ Gabby summoned reassurance and a smile as she came to the end of her edited explanation to her grandmother.
Lucille had interspersed the recital with questions aplenty, and now her expression tended more towards dubious than joyful. ‘I don’t like it, Gabby. I especially don’t like it that you are doing this for money to look after me.’
Gabby grinned. ‘So if I was doing it for money for me, that would be all right?’
‘It would be better!’ Lucille settled back on the chair and tucked her shawl over her knees.
‘It’s not exactly a hardship. Most women would volunteer for the job, forget getting paid for it!’
‘You aren’t “most women” and I am sure you have no wish to have a temporary fling with a man just because he is good-looking and rich.’
‘But I’m not having a fling with him, Gran. I’m pretending to.’
‘Gabrielle. I may be old, but I am not stupid. I understand that this is a pretence. But it isn’t one I approve of. It’s a lie, and it’s a lie you won’t enjoy enacting. A gentleman wouldn’t ask you to do that.’
‘But his motivations are good.’
‘Would your granddad have liked him?’
‘Yes.’ The answer came from her gut, even though she wasn’t sure where the conviction came from. ‘He married his childhood sweetheart and he has remained loyal to her memory. He loves his family enough to concoct an illusion, possibly delusion, of a relationship for them.’
Lucille shook her head, her still bright blue eyes clouded with trouble. ‘It seems to me he’d be better to face his family head-on.’ Sadness touched her features. ‘Though what do I know about family relationships?’<
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‘Don’t say that, Gran.’ Gabby knew that Lucille still grieved for her daughter—would always blame herself for the path Karen had taken. That was why, all her life, Gabby had striven to be the polar opposite of her mother. ‘You and Gramps understood all about relationships, and I couldn’t have asked for more caring people to bring me up.’
‘Thank you, darling.’ For a second she smiled, then took Gabby’s hand and squeezed gently. ‘Promise me you’ll be careful.’
Sensing her grandmother was tired, Gabby nodded. ‘I promise.’
‘Don’t get your heart broken. He’s a good-looking, charming, successful man.’
‘He may be all those things, but Zander Grosvenor is not my type at all. In the slightest.’
Lucille raised one delicately pencilled brow and Gabby reminded herself that she had downplayed the kiss and utterly omitted even a mention of any attraction.
‘I’m in this for the money and I am in no danger at all of falling for the boss!’
The words were nothing but the truth. The attraction was an annoyance, an irritation, a problem she intended to solve. Even if she hadn’t figured out how yet.
And perhaps her scowl carried conviction, because Lucille nodded. ‘OK. Then enjoy yourself, darling.’
Yeah, right. The prospect of the next weeks showed a vista that crossed so far into her discomfort zone her eyes crossed at the mere thought. But she wouldn’t add to Lucille’s worry by sharing that.
‘I will—and I will give you regular updates as to my progress. Right now I’m off to meet Zander to sort out the small print. We’re going boating on the river...’
* * *
Fifteen minutes later, Gabby approached the boat hire company based on the banks of the River Avon. It had seemed a suitable date-like activity, and Zander had pointed out they could speak without fear of being overheard in a boat. As a bonus, she sincerely hoped open air and wide outdoor spaces would act as a deterrent to their attraction.
It was a hope that lasted precisely as long as it took for her to spot Zander. As he rose from the riverside bench her tummy flipped. He was dressed in stonewashed jeans, a white T-shirt and trainers. The simple outfit showcased his sheer masculinity, the hard curve of his muscles, and threw her hormones into disarray. Yet she forced her feet to maintain pace as she walked towards him.
‘Hey.’
His voice rippled over her skin as he stepped forward, his hands outstretched.
‘Hey.’ Belatedly she realised that they were now in role. She placed her hands in his and her skin goosebumped despite the warmth of the late-spring sunshine. ‘Are we being watched?’
‘Let’s say I wouldn’t put it past any of my family to be lurking behind a tree somewhere.’
‘So you told them?’
At least her voice appeared to work, even though every one of her senses was focused on the strength of his grip, the feel of his skin against hers.
‘Yes...’ Zander, too, seemed mesmerised by their clasped fingers, until in an abrupt movement he dropped her hand. ‘So it’s probably best if we continue this conversation once we are on the river.’
‘Good plan.’
It was an activity to focus on, and for a moment she did exactly that. Studied the row of wooden boats bobbing on the water—punts, skiffs and canoes.
‘Which one shall we hire?’
‘A skiff. I’m happy to row, or we can take turns.’
‘You go first and then I’ll try, depending on how easy it is. I don’t want to capsize.’
Ten minutes later they climbed on to a long, varnished wooden boat and Gabby could see the owner had been right. The graceful slender craft was built for speed, but was also wide enough for stability and comfort.
Zander sat in the centre, an oar in each hand, and she settled herself against the traditional wicker backrest and tried to visualise the instructions they had been given. ‘So I can help steer by using these lines?’
‘Yup. They’re connected to the rudder. But don’t worry about it too much. When I came here with my sisters, their attempts at steering nearly capsized us.’
‘Hmm... Well, I’ll do my best—though, to be honest, I’m quite happy to just keep a lookout for otters.’
In reality, for the next five minutes, her gaze was focused exclusively on observing Zander row, watching the flex of his muscular forearms, the strength and sculpt of his biceps. She tried to tell herself that her entrancement was due to the necessity for study, for learning the technique for when she came to take the oars herself. She knew that theory held not an iota of truth—she could only hope she wasn’t drooling.
Enough. Time to recall exactly why they were here. ‘So, how did your family take the news about “us”?’
‘They were all thrilled.’
Try as she might, she couldn’t interpret either his expression or his tone—relief, ruefulness, regret or all three? ‘That’s good, right?’
‘Yes. They are happy, and they have abandoned their plans to hook me up with every female of their acquaintance.’
‘I sense a but.’
‘Not a but, exactly. More of a realisation that I’ve rolled the dice and the game has begun. Now it is imperative that we make this work.’
‘Yes.’
Gabby could hear the fervour in her own voice. After all, she knew how it felt to build up a fantasy world that collapsed about you in a rubble of disillusionment. When she had been small, and her mother had constantly left her with her grandparents, appearing and reappearing in her life with bewildering uncertainty, Gabby hadn’t understood why.
Her grandparents had wanted to spare her pain and so had allowed Gabby to believe in the scenarios she’d created. That her mother was ill but missed her so very much. Or was away working somewhere where children weren’t allowed. Occasionally her imagination went into fantastical overdrive and she made her mother a princess, a mermaid...
Eventually, though, the bubble had burst, and the grim reality of the time she spent with her mother—the dirt, the grime, the empty alcohol bottles and drug paraphernalia—were all things she couldn’t weave into her fantasies. So she’d confronted her grandparents and forced them to tell her the truth. It had truly shattered her world. Made her feel stupid, angry and sad, and hurt by the deceit. The feelings had been made all the worse because she hadn’t been able to express them to her grandparents, afraid she would lose them, too.
‘Gabby?’
‘Sorry.’ Gabby tried to push away the onslaught of qualms and concentrated on the swish of the oars in the water. This illusion bore no similarity to those of her childhood. Yet... ‘Are you sure about this, Zander? Maybe you should come clean now. Before this goes further. If they find out, they’ll feel hurt and stupid.’
For a second he hesitated, his dark eyes serious as he considered her words, and then he shook his head. ‘No. The die is cast. Now we need to play our parts with conviction.’
‘Then let’s get to work. If we want to make this believable, the detail is important. We have to fabricate this so well that we almost believe it’s true.’
That was a fact. Sometimes she even wondered if her whole personality was based on a part she had played for so long that it had become the truth.
‘What exactly did you tell your family about me? I need to figure out what they’re expecting.’
‘I said I bumped into you in town, remembered you from school. We got chatting, had a coffee and things went from there. I said that we both agree we’re not looking for anything serious, just some uncomplicated fun. Mum and Dad are pleased. Julia is worried you’re after my money—that you staged the meeting—and Gemma hopes it will turn serious. That’s because Julia is a cynic and Gemma is a romantic.’
‘Great. So Julia will check my bag for a gold-digging shovel and Gemma will expect me to fall at your feet adoringly.’
Gabby closed her eyes in silent horror.
‘And I wiggled my eyebrows.’
‘Suggestively, no doubt? So they now think I’ll rip your clothes off in public?’
Nice one, Gabs. With any luck she’d be tipped overboard and get swallowed up by the depths of the river.
‘You could try it and see.’
Was he laughing at her? Yup. Her mortification had triggered an upward quirk of his lips and his eyes had a wicked glint that turned her knees wobbly.
‘In your dreams!’
‘Probably,’ he agreed, and her cheeks heated as she narrowed her eyes at him.
‘You need to take this seriously!’
Yet it wasn’t possible not to smile back, not to revel in the flirtatious undertones, the shimmer of attraction that vested their conversation with a thrill.
‘I am. This is part of getting in character—you said we need to almost believe it ourselves. Two people in a fun, flirty relationship where we kick back and enjoy ourselves. Have a bit of banter. That’s what a fun fling is all about, isn’t it?’
‘I wouldn’t know.’ To her own irritation she could hear wistfulness in her voice.
His lips twisted ruefully. ‘Neither would I.’
Realisation dawned on her that he wouldn’t. This guy was a one-woman man, and that in itself sent a cascade of emotion through her, a glow not of desire but warmth. Stop! Lust was bad enough. Warmth was not an affordable emotion.
Before she could stop herself she asked, ‘So since Claudia you really haven’t dated anyone? Or seen anyone? Or...done anything with anyone?’ Very subtle, Gabs.
‘No, I haven’t.’ He leant the oars against the side of the boat, that amused glint back in his eyes. ‘If you’re asking what I think you’re asking—no, I haven’t. Slept with anyone.’
‘Oh.’
Gabby knew she should leave it, but she was having a little difficulty with the whole concept.