My Billionaire Fake Fiance

by Linda West

  Chapter 28

  Devlin motioned for me to follow him. "Come see this. I want to show you something."

  We walked our horses through a canopy of snow-dappled trees into a clearing with a stunning enclosed gazebo. It was a grand building made of white marble with golden scrolls in the shape of Cinderella's carriage. The windows were lit from inside with crystal chandeliers.

  Devlin slid off his horse like a prince and lifted his arms up to help me off. I tried not to notice how his hands felt on my hips. He motioned me over to look through the windows. "This is where we will have the Mistletoe Ball on Christmas Eve."

  "Like the balls you used to have in Long Island?"

  He nodded. "Yes. This is our Chalet Ballroom. Dad had it built, especially to host this event."

  It was stunning, and I was freaked out. He had mentioned that we had special affairs we were to attend, but this was the Somersets’ Ball! I had dreamed of visiting the magical event when I was a child. The beautiful dresses and elegantly-dressed men waltzing like spinning teacups. But the reality was that the grown-up me had no idea how to fancy dance! My heart sank.

  "I don't suppose they'll be fast dancing? Hokey pokey or anything I might actually know how to do?"

  Devlin arched one brow. "No. No hokey pokey."

  I sighed. "Too bad. I'm excellent at the hokey pokey."

  He smiled at me, and I blushed like an idiot.

  "My parents met at a Christmas dance and got caught under the mistletoe, and that began their lifelong love. My father still insists on having a ball every year in my mother's honor."

  It reminded me of my mom and her charity event I didn’t make. My heart hurt at missing it, but I hoped Dad was spreading the joy and would bring back pictures to show me.

  I looked through the window at the inside of the magnificent ballroom. "How romantic. They must have been very much in love."

  "Yes, very much."

  I grabbed his hand instinctively and squeezed it.

  Chapter 29

  I had so much to think about, and I was filled with dread. I had never been to a super formal dance. Sissy was already suspicious of Devlin. Any more faux pas on my part, and I might blow it for both of us.

  I had also learned more about who Devlin really was.

  "Your first real ride. Well done," he said sincerely.

  I beamed. As much from the praise as from the closeness. His strong hands lifted me in one motion to the ground. Our eyes locked. I slipped into his embrace, and he pulled me close against his muscular chest. My knees felt weak, and I wiggled away from his touch. This was a business deal, and I needed to stay on my toes.

  "Thank you. That was really great. I loved it."

  Suddenly, my hands flew to my mouth.

  "Oh, my cookies!"

  Devlin laughed. "That's a new one.”

  "No, I mean oh my goodness, I've burned my cookies I had in the oven. I forgot all about them!" I started to run from the stables, but he caught me around the waist with one arm.

  Devlin smiled. "I'm sure Pierre has it covered by now." He pulled me closer into his arms, and I stopped breathing.

  "You have more important things to consider than cookies right now," he said teasingly.

  "I do?"

  He nodded bemusedly.

  "What next, bungee jumping? Paragliding over the mountains?"

  He chuckled. "Not quite that dangerous."

  He slipped off his coat, then came around and helped me remove mine. He put them on a hook and adjusted the lighting lower. Finally, he flipped a switch and music came on.

  I looked up at the lofts of the stables. It glowed with warmth and was lit by an out-of-place, glorious chandelier that hung amid the wooden beams and lofts of hay. Chandeliers seemed to be the standard in every room the Somersets owned.

  Suddenly, I was in Devlin's arms. My heart beat fast, and breath escaped my lips. No fake kissing, I hoped.

  "I believe this is the best and safest place to begin your waltzing lessons."

  I laughed. "Right."

  He dead-eyed me. "I can only imagine that if you've never learned to properly ride a horse, your cultural influence may have stopped at learning to waltz for a ball."

  "You would have imagined correctly." I smiled.

  “Now follow me. We're going to move in the shape of a box. Just lean in and I'll guide you. Step, step, step–look up at me, not at your feet."

  I did.

  “Good." He pulled me in close and spun me around, and I laughed.

  "Loosen up. Dancing can be fun–and sexy." He pulled me near, and I had an ultra closeup of his cleft chin. The scar from the diamond wound had healed perfectly. I tensed when I felt his muscles press against me, but I fell into his movements swirling us together.

  "Just press your body into mine, feel me…"

  Goodness, how much could one girl handle? I sucked in my breath and closed my eyes and tried to feel him as he moved. Step, step, step. One two three, one two three...

  The lovely waltz played on, and we danced and danced.

  I am not a quick study, but I am strong-minded. I lost myself in the moment, dancing with full dedication. I forgot time and found the present and finally understood what all those darn yoga classes were trying to get me to feel.

  The bevy of horses whinnied from their stalls in harmony to the lilting music, and I felt like I might never come back to Earth again. I closed my eyes and tried to implant this memory on my mind forever, and suddenly I felt firm, wanting lips on mine.

  Devlin pressed me in closer to his tight body, and I felt like an arcade machine that had just lit up all over. I didn't even try to stop him. I'm going to admit it: I'd never been kissed like that by a real boyfriend, let alone some fake stand-in. I fell headlong into a spiral of soft lips and strong hands.

  When he pulled away, I nearly fell over. That would have been classy. I straightened up and cleared my throat.

  Devlin was beaming at me now. “Nobody would ever guess we were faking being in love."

  I shot him the thumbs up like a doltz, and then decided to exit stage left as quickly as possible. I had to get myself out of there before I did anything stupid. Like, kiss that hunk again, fakely of course.

  I walked out of the stables with my dignity, and my head held high. But as soon as I cleared Devlin's sight, I found myself running down the path back to the house at a speed that would have made my track coach proud. I never even saw Sissy by the door of the stable…nodding with satisfaction.

  Chapter 30

  That night, I was looking forward to some solo time –or, more clearly, time away from Devlin and Ursula from California.

  The whole troop was headed off to enjoy the epic mountain up at Eagle's Peak. The Somersets were all expert skiers, so I feigned a headache.

  I couldn't bear to fail at another passion that these people seemed born with. Rushing down a massive mountain on a little board? For fun? No, I wasn't about to risk my life to fit in with people I'd never fit in with. Skiing trips to Vail and Aspen had never been in our family budget.

  Instead, I invented an enjoyable alternative to get myself out of the family ski adventure without making anyone suspicious.

  I had asked Pierre if he would be so kind as to teach me how to make Devlin's favorite dish, Beef Wellington.

  Goodness, even the children needed to lighten up. I was glad to see them so excited about going skiing. Young Kent ran by us in the kitchen, ready to run out without his boots.

  "Ahh, Kent," I said.

  He skidded to a stop and waved at us. "Hi, Chef! Hi, Allie! I'm going snowboarding–Dad gave me a Christmas gift early, and I can't wait to try it out!" He held up his neon-colored snowboard.

  I beamed at his excitement.

  "You just might want to put on some boots before you conquer the mountain."

  He looked down at his feet. "Yeah, right. Jeeves!" He called for the butler.

  Jeeves came running with the boots, as if he were physic. He w
inked at me as he helped the young man on with them. "I spotted the crisis from the dining hall, Ms. Allie."

  Kent Sr. was all revved up and dressed in his ski suit–also plaid. Good grief, Sissy's ugly contacts must be making her hard of sight.

  "Allie, you're not going?"

  I shook my head.

  "I'm afraid I'd hold you guys back. You're all pros and… I'm safer here." I mumbled the last part to myself. I could see myself losing control like a spaz and ending up in some icy pond or something. No, the kitchen was safe. Good things happened there, and bad things were made better doused in butter and sugar.

  The Somersets all filed out into a large van that Kent Sr. had rented. Devlin appeared at my side and placed a perfunctory kiss on my cheek. I blushed and brought my hand to my cheek.

  "I'll see you later, honey."

  I recovered my coolness and raised a hand in goodbye. "Have a great time. I'm making a surprise for you."

  Devlin looked back and forth between us, then nodded. "Great. Come on, Dad, let me help you with your coat."

  "I don't need help." Mr. Somerset grumbled.

  Jeeves hovered near, and Devlin shook his head.

  "Okay, Dad, but don't think I'm giving you any breaks on the slopes. I'm hoping you're old enough for me to beat you finally."

  His dad laughed and clapped his hand on his son's back.

  *****

  I had a wonderful evening with the staff and Pierre. Since the whole family was gone, many of the servants had gathered in the kitchen around the sizable comfy fireplace to chat and eat as they had some time to themselves. There was a large oak table in front of it, and it was the perfect gathering place. I suppose Devlin and his type preferred the fancy, uncomfortable formal dining area, but I much preferred being in the kitchen.

  Making Beef Wellington was a complicated, advanced-level dish. It involved all sorts of layers and strange ingredients and then a delicate sauce that was hard to master. Pierre had been happy to do it, and I was delighted to be hanging with the servants who were much more relaxed than the stuffy Somerset family.

  Pierre instructed me patiently for what seemed hours, but together we prepared a feast for the staff and a tray of Beef Wellingtons for the Somerset family when they returned from skiing.

  In any case, I had to save one for Devlin. He had told me it was his favorite, and I hoped he liked it. No, I wasn't a three-star Michelin chef, but I had just been schooled by one.

  Chapter 31

  Devlin was in the living room doing business when I came in the next morning. He had left me a handwritten note thanking me for the Beef Wellington, and I was excited to hear more. I don't know why the thought of pleasing Devlin me happy.

  When I entered the grand living room, Devlin was on the settee in front of the fire, speaking French to someone. I don't know French, but it seemed as if he were trying to talk them into something. Or maybe French just always sounds like it’s seducing you into something. Either way, I felt a flush of heat rise up my body. French does that to me.

  Sissy breezed into the room and brought a chill with her. The nanny followed in her wake, holding the baby at her side. I tried not to catch Sissy’s gaze. Her crazy anime contact lenses made her eyes extra scary to encounter first thing in the morning.

  Mr. Somerset waved Sissy over. "Come join me, Sissy, you used to love puzzles, and I think this old head could use some help." He smiled hopefully.

  "Dad, I love you, but I hate puzzles and watching you pick up and drop things like something out of Rain Man is not what I call fun."

  I gasped. She smiled and whispered, "Don't worry; he doesn't remember a thing. The beautiful thing about Alzheimer's is you can finally tell your horrible parents what you actually think of them." She made the loco sign, and then looked at Jeeves and snapped at him, pointing to her shoulder, which was her sign to get my darn coat.

  I glanced at Mr. Somerset involved in his Christmas puzzle, and he seemed blissfully unaware of his daughter's hatred for him.

  "I'm going shopping–care to go?" Sissy said to me as she looked me up and down. Luckily, I was wearing a tailored cream suit–some kind of designer outfit that seemed to meet her approval because she didn't say anything nasty. "Devlin gave you his credit card at least?"

  I looked over at Mr. Somerset by himself, trying to figure out where to put a piece of the puzzle. He looked at the piece and put it down, defeated. My heart went out to him.

  “No, I'll just hang out here. I like puzzles." I lied.

  I hated puzzles because I'm hyperactive and puzzle-doing requires focus and sitting for a long time. Still, I felt sorry for Mr. Somerset. Whatever reason Sissy despised him, he was still her father.

  Jeeves returned with a red fox fur coat. I'm sure it was real, and I wished someone from PETA would have jumped out from behind the chaise lounge and doused her with pig’s blood.

  He helped her on with it, and Sissy leaned over and fake kissed her baby before strolling out of the living room. I heard her screaming for her husband to get the car.

  I shook my head and tried to shake out Sissy's toxic vibe. I moved over and watched Mr. Somerset with Jeeves by his side doing the Christmas puzzle. The puzzle was of a beautiful Rockwell scene. I pointed to a red piece that fit in the mistletoe hanging part.

  Mr. Somerset smiled at me and moved the piece into its proper place.

  He motioned for me to sit down. "Join me, Allie."

  I shrugged, plopped down, and considered the puzzle. It was half done, but it was intricate.

  "Can I get something for you, Ms. Allie?" Jeeves bowed to me. I loved Jeeves. I opened my mouth, and Mr. Somerset said,

  "Chocolate milk, isn't it?"

  I stiffened and nodded.

  Did he remember me, or had he seen me drink chocolate milk recently? I looked at Mr. Somerset, who found another piece and set it into the puzzle with a satisfactory nod.

  The puzzle was filling in, and it was no help from me, I can tell you. I did a whole lot of watching. Devlin was pacing and passionate on the phone, and Mr. Somerset was slamming out this Rubik’s cube of a puzzle.

  I pondered this as I watched him expertly place another piece into the puzzle. It made me wonder just how much Mr. Somerset remembered or didn't.

  "You're pretty good at this," I said with admiration.

  He looked up swiftly.

  "I'm just good with numbers and deduction."

  "I bet that helped you build Somerset Industries into the great success it is today."

  He nodded. "Yes. Partly. I gave up a lot–too much." His eyes met mine, and he looked anything but losing his mind.

  "You're not really losing your memory, are you?" I suddenly spat out what I was thinking.

  He smiled slowly, and a gleam came to his eyes. "Ahh, yes. You bought my darling daughter's story that I was losing my mind, huh? Alzheimer's, isn't it, Jeeves?" He laughed and made the loco sign near his head.

  I smiled. "So, you're not losing your mind!"

  Mr. Somerset snickered mischievously.

  "She wishes."

  I let out my breath and glanced over at Devlin, who was now engaged in a new conversation with equal fervor. He was speaking– Czech? How many languages did he speak fluently? I was starting to get impressed in spite of myself.

  I looked back at his father. "Well, that's great news, Mr. Somerset. I don't know how people got the wrong idea."

  He put a piece in the puzzle and said, "I'm the one that gave them the idea."

  My mouth fell open in that oh-so attractive way.

  Mr. Somerset laughed.

  "Don't think too bad of me, dear. You see, I've always found the best way to see the pure soul of a person is how they treat you when they think you're down."

  I looked at him. "You mean like Jesus in the Bible?"

  Mr. Somerset hesitated with his puzzle piece and fixed his eyes on me.

  "That's one example. He dressed as a homeless person to see the true being. Confucius had a saying al
ong the lines of when an elephant is down, even a frog will kick him.'"

  He placed the last piece in the puzzle with finality and gave me a wink. "Sadly, my dear. I think my children are both frogs."

  I looked over his shoulder, but Devlin was still immersed in his business call. I leaned over the puzzle and looked him in the eye. I wondered if he knew who I was? I hated lying to him, but I had made a deal with Devlin.

  "Listen to me, Mr. Somerset. No matter what happens, okay, I want you to know this."

  He stopped and looked at me.

  "Your son …I know Devlin would do anything—truly, go to any lengths—to be the man you want him to be, Mr. Somerset." I glanced at Devlin across the room, and his gray eyes met mine.

  "But he is just a man, Mr. Somerset. Human like all of us. Just don't judge him too harshly. Promise me."

  The older man studied me.

  "You care about him," he said. "I can see that much."

  I swallowed.

  "He's not a frog, Mr. Somerset."

  Chapter 32

  The Christmas Fair at the Kissing Bridge Main Center was the place to be. All the residents were out selling or buying gifts for the holidays. A group of carolers sang lovely songs around the town tree that was decorated with ornaments the children of the town had made. It was enchanting.

  Even Devlin seemed at ease in the holiday joy. He chatted amiably with neighbors that passed, and when he slipped his arm through mine, it felt right. It was too good a day to judge myself for that.

  I snuggled in and reveled in the small snow town splendor.

  The Christmas Fair was full of delightful sights and smells. By far the most popular booth at the festival was The Landers' cookie booth. I caught sight of Carol's massive red beehive over the crowd. I squeezed in and blew a kiss to Carol and Ethel, who were surrounded by their fans.