by Kate Hardy
‘So what exactly would this marriage entail?’ she asked.
‘You’d need to live with me, to make it look convincing,’ he said. ‘But my place is big enough for you to have your own room. Your own suite, if that’s what you’d prefer.’
She couldn’t quite get her head round this offer.
‘Please, just think about it,’ he said, clearly thinking that she was going to refuse. ‘I need your help, and in return I can help you. Talk it over with someone you trust.’
‘Won’t you have to vet them, first?’
‘If you trust them, that’s good enough for me,’ he said softly. ‘Talk it over. Then you and I can revisit it—say a week today.’
She was pretty sure her answer would still be the same in a week’s time. But he’d asked for her help, and it felt mean to refuse without even thinking about it. That wasn’t who she was. Talking it over with her sister would be impossible; if she was going to convince Susie to stop trying to fix her up with someone, telling her about Luc’s marriage of convenience idea would make Susie even more worried. But maybe her best friend would be a good sounding board—and Angela was super-sensible. She might come up with a better solution to both their problems.
* * *
Kelly saw a lot of Luc over the next couple of days. She ended up having lunch with him on Friday, but he didn’t push her to give him an early answer. Instead, he made her laugh, telling her tales from his student days, and about one of his uncles who’d told him and his sisters spooky stories and then hidden inside a suit of armour in the castle and scared them all by making them think the suit of armour was a ghost walking.
The more time she spent with him, the more she found herself having fun—something she hadn’t really done since Simon’s death. Maybe Luc was the one who could help her move on. She could help him and he could help her.
Though she had a feeling that he hadn’t told her the whole story. He’d made that comment about her being a fellow doctor who could understand the hours he worked. Had his parents expected him to date someone with the right background but who hadn’t appreciated that Luc was dedicated to his career—someone who had hurt him, perhaps?
She’d have to think of a tactful way to ask him.
And in the meantime she’d planned to see her best friend for dinner.
She made Angela’s favourite, sweet potato and black bean curry for dinner on Saturday night. But Angela almost choked on it when Kelly told her about Luc’s suggestion.
‘Have you lost your mind?’ Angela asked. ‘The hospital clinic thing, yes—that’d probably do you a lot of good, giving you a fresh start. But marrying someone you barely know? Of all the insane schemes...’
‘I’d been thinking about inventing a boyfriend so everyone would back off. And this would do the same thing. If I was married, Susie would stop trying to find me a partner, so would Mum and so would y—’ Kelly stopped. ‘Um.’
‘So would I?’ Angela frowned. ‘It’s been two years, Kel. Simon loved you and he wouldn’t—’
‘—have wanted me to be alone,’ Kelly finished. ‘I know. Ange, we’ve been through all this. I haven’t met anyone who’s made me feel in the slightest bit how I felt about Simon.’ She ignored her growing awareness of Luc. That wasn’t the same thing at all.
‘You weren’t madly in love with Simon from the very first second you met him. Your feelings for each other developed as you got to know each other. So you’re not comparing apples with apples, are you?’ Angela asked. ‘You have to give someone a chance to grow on you.’
‘Actually, Simon and I knew pretty early on. And I’m really, really tired of being paraded in front of suitable men,’ Kelly said.
‘Technically, I think the men are being paraded in front of you,’ Angela pointed out.
‘You know what I mean. Getting married would stop the matchmaking.’
‘But why did he ask you?’
‘Because we’re in a similar situation.’ She gave her best friend a wry smile. ‘Funny, he said that to me, and I disagreed—but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I realise that he’s right. Getting married would solve both our problems.’
‘You can’t get married to someone you don’t love and who doesn’t love you. And he’s a prince, Kel. You’ll have the media on your back for the rest of your life.’
‘I haven’t got a wild past,’ Kelly said. ‘So it’s not an issue. I’m boring.’
‘Of course you’re not boring.’
‘In terms of front-page news, I am.’
Angela frowned. ‘OK. Just supposing you do go along with this, what about his family?’
‘He thinks this will convince his parents that his older sister—who actually wants to do the job—would be a better ruler than he is.’
‘Hmm.’ Angela didn’t look convinced. ‘I foresee lots of arguing, and because they’re who they are it’ll all be in public. Tell him he’s crazy.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Or is there something you’re not telling me? Are you already dating him?’
‘I work with him. He’s nice with junior staff, he’s brilliant with patients and watching him work is amazing. I’m getting the chance to do cutting edge stuff.’
Angela looked thoughtful. ‘You haven’t denied that you’re dating him.’
‘He’s my colleague.’
Angela scoffed. ‘You marrying a stranger—’
‘Marrying a colleague, in name only,’ Kelly corrected.
‘But someone you’ve known for just a few short weeks.’
‘Almost a month,’ Kelly pointed out.
‘That’s the definition of a stranger in anyone’s books. Nobody’s going to believe it.’
Kelly frowned. ‘So people will think I’m a gold-digger?’
‘Anyone who knows you will know that’s not true,’ Angela said. ‘No, I mean nobody will believe you’re marrying someone you barely know. You loved Simon. No way will you settle for anything less than love.’
‘It could be a whirlwind romance,’ Kelly said thoughtfully.
Angela blinked. ‘So that’s what you’re not telling me. You like him. And I don’t mean just as a colleague.’
Kelly felt the colour rise in her face. ‘That isn’t the deal. It’s a marriage in name only.’
‘So you do like him.’
Kelly squirmed. ‘It feels wrong. It feels disloyal to Simon. And, anyway, Luc doesn’t feel like that about me.’
‘But he asked you to marry him.’
‘To solve a problem for both of us and give us both breathing space.’
‘If he wanted to convince his parents that he’s unsuitable for the job, surely he should marry someone completely unsuitable—say the modern equivalent of a Wallis Simpson?’ Angela suggested.
‘He’s trying to convince them that he wants to keep doing what he’s already spent his life either training for or actually doing. Marrying a fellow doctor kind of underlines that.’
Angela groaned. ‘You’re talking yourself into this.’
Kelly shook her head. ‘Right now, I’m asking your advice.’
‘That’s easy. Don’t get married,’ Angela said promptly. ‘Surely dating him will be enough?’
‘For me, it would,’ Kelly said. ‘But not for him.’
‘Kel, you got married to Simon because you loved him. How can you even think about getting married for any other reason this time?’
‘We’re helping each other out.’
‘It’s insane.’
‘You could,’ Kelly suggested, ‘meet him for yourself and see what you think.’
‘It sounds as if you’ve already made your mind up,’ Angela said.
‘He’s not pushing me for an immediate answer. He said I should talk it over with someone I trust. Which is you.’
‘I love you, Kel,’ Angela said. ‘You’ve
been my best friend since we met on the first day of sixth form. But I worry that if you do this you’re going to get hurt. You’ve already been through enough, losing Simon.’
‘Did I say Luc’s doing a trial for HCM patients? There’s a possibility that Jake and Summer could be on it.’
Angela’s eyes widened. ‘I hope that this marriage thing isn’t a condition for them being on the trial.’
‘Of course it isn’t. I don’t think it’s a condition of the job offer and I’d love the chance to be involved in training the cardiologists of the future. What I’m trying to say is that he’s not going to hurt me,’ Kelly explained. ‘He’s one of the good guys. We’re just doing each other a favour.’
‘An insane favour,’ Angela said, and hugged her. ‘Think about it a bit more. Do yourself a list of pros and cons so you can make a really informed decision. But, whatever you do, don’t rush into it. Because I think this could go very wrong, very quickly.’
CHAPTER FOUR
KELLY THOUGHT ABOUT it all weekend. Was Angela right and it would all end in tears? Or would it work the way Luc thought it would, and buy them both some time?
On Monday, she was still undecided.
‘Can we talk over lunch?’ Luc asked when he saw her in the staff kitchen before their shift started.
‘How about over dinner tonight?’ she suggested. ‘My place? It’ll be more private than the hospital canteen.’
‘That’d be good. What time?’ he asked.
‘Half past seven?’
‘OK. Let me know the address,’ he said.
‘I’ll text you,’ she promised. ‘Let me know if there’s anything you don’t eat or you have any allergies.’
‘No allergies and I eat anything,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring the wine—red or white?’
‘You really don’t need to.’
‘Red or white?’ he repeated.
She smiled. ‘White. Thank you.’
Offering to cook dinner for a prince. Was she crazy? He must be used to eating meals cooked by Michelin-starred chefs. Then again, she knew he saw himself as a surgeon rather than a prince, so maybe this was more like cooking dinner for a colleague. A friend. A potential husband in name only...
She pushed the thought out of her mind and concentrated on her clinic and her ward round. After her shift was over, she headed for the supermarket and bought salmon, Puy lentils, Chantenay carrots, spinach, fresh ginger and a lime. She knew she already had mixed berries and Greek yoghurt in her fridge; she bought a box of shortbread thins to go with them, then headed back to her flat to marinade the salmon.
At half past seven precisely, her doorbell rang. Luc stood on the doorstep, carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine.
‘Thank you. They’re lovely, but you really didn’t have to,’ she said, accepting the flowers and the wine.
‘I wanted to,’ he said.
‘And this wine is from Bordimiglia?’ she asked, looking at the label.
‘It’s a white Pinot Noir—and it’s very drinkable,’ he said with a smile. ‘It’s from one of the vineyards on our estate.’
But his parents didn’t just own a vineyard. They ruled the country.
‘Do you need a temporary parking permit for your car, or did you get a taxi?’ she asked.
‘A permit would be great—my driver’s staying with the car.’
Driver? Of course. He’d need to have someone on security detail. She had to remind herself that Luc was a prince first and a doctor second, even if he saw himself as being the other way round. ‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t think to make dinner for your driver. I can add a few more veg and make it stretch a bit.’
‘It’s fine. He’s got a sandwich and a bottle of water.’
‘Even so, if he’d like to join us, he’s more than welcome. Ask him when you take the permit out.’ She took a permit from the kitchen drawer, scratched off the date and time and handed it to Luc.
When Luc came back, he said, ‘Gino says thank you for the offer, but he’s happy with his sandwich.’
But she still felt like a terrible hostess. ‘At the very least I can make the poor man a cup of coffee.’
‘He won’t say no to that. Black, no sugar,’ Luc said. ‘And yes, I do make coffee for my security team. I don’t expect them to wait on me.’
But they were always there. Even though they were discreet, they were always there. He never had time on his own. ‘It must be hard, living your life in public all the time.’
Luc shrugged. ‘I was born into it, so I’ve never known anything different. I guess it’d be harder if you don’t come from that kind of background.’
‘Is that what happened?’ she asked gently. ‘You met someone, but they couldn’t cope with being in a goldfish bowl?’
‘Something like that.’ For a second, he looked really sad. ‘There are two sides to my life—Luc Bianchi, the cardiac surgeon, and Prince Luciano, heir to the kingdom of Bordimiglia. I’m pretty much stuck in the middle. Women who embrace Prince Luciano’s lifestyle don’t like the other side of me, or the hours I work; and women who date Luc the surgeon don’t tend to like the Bordimiglia side.’ He spread his hands. ‘Until everything is resolved with my father, I can’t really be clear about who I am and what my partner can expect from life—and it’s unfair to get involved with someone who wants one side of me and might well end up with the other instead.’
‘Hence your insa—’ She bit back the word, and instead said, ‘idea of getting married.’ She made coffee and opened the box of shortbread thins. ‘Take some of these to Gino to go with the coffee.’
‘I will.’ He smiled at her. ‘You’re a kind woman, Kelly.’
She brushed aside the compliment. ‘It’s what any normal person would do.’
His expression said otherwise, but he took the coffee and biscuits out to Gino. ‘Something smells good,’ he said when he came back.
‘Baked salmon marinated in ginger and lime, on a bed of Puy lentils, with steamed Chantenay carrots and spinach,’ she told him.
He grinned. ‘I don’t think you can get any more heart-healthy than that. Then again, given that you’re a cardiologist...’
‘Oh, I practise what I preach,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’m not telling my patients to eat a Mediterranean diet while I tuck into masses of high-fat, low-fibre junk. But I also don’t think that eating healthily has to be boring.’
‘Agreed.’ He paused. ‘Can I do anything?’
‘Open the wine, if you like. I’m about to serve up.’
He did so, and they sat at the small bistro table next to the French doors that overlooked her patio.
‘This is lovely,’ he said after his first mouthful.
She smiled. ‘Pleasure.’
‘It’s a nice flat,’ he said.
‘Thanks. It’s within walking distance of the hospital, too.’
‘Did you live here with your husband?’
She shook her head. ‘I moved here a year ago. I had a lot of happy memories in our old flat, but it made me sad to go home. I stuck it out for a year—people say it’s not a good idea to make big changes until a year after the funeral—and then I found this place.’
‘I can see why you like it.’ He gestured to the garden. ‘And you get the sun here in the evening. That’s always nice.’
But he wasn’t here to make small talk. She took a gulp of the wine to give her courage. ‘Oh. That’s very nice.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I guess we need to discuss your, um, proposal.’
‘Did you talk to anyone about it?’
She nodded. ‘My best friend, Angela. She’s an accountant and she’s very sensible.’
‘And?’
‘She thinks it’s...’ She paused, thinking of a tactful way to say it. ‘She thinks the job in the new clinic would be good for me, but the mar
riage bit isn’t workable.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I married Simon for love, and she thinks I wouldn’t settle for anything less, second time round. You’re practically a stranger.’
‘Fair point,’ he said.
‘So I was thinking. My original idea was to have a fake boyfriend. Maybe I can be your fake girlfriend instead,’ she suggested.
‘Fake dating would work for your situation,’ he said, ‘but it wouldn’t be enough to convince my parents that I’m a surgeon rather than a prince.’
‘A fake engagement, then,’ Kelly said.
He shook his head. ‘Engagements can be broken off. It’s got to be marriage.’
‘It’s not plausible, Luc,’ she said. ‘We’ve known each other for a little less than a month. Yes, we get on well at work and as part of the team outside work, and I think we’re well on the way to becoming friends—I like you and I think you like me.’
‘Agreed.’
She ignored the little shiver of desire that rippled down her spine. That wasn’t appropriate. They were talking about liking each other, not attraction. ‘But you’re a prince. You can’t get married just like that.’ She snapped her fingers. ‘I mean no offence and I’m certainly not saying you’re unlovable, but nobody is going to believe that I’d get married to you. Work with you, yes, and come and help you set up the clinic—but not married.’
‘What if,’ he said, ‘we had a whirlwind romance?’
‘That’s what I said to Angela.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘OK. Supposing we pretend to start dating and get everyone to believe we’ve fallen madly in love with each other within the space of a couple of weeks. That’s just about plausible. But I still don’t think anyone would believe that either of us would rush into marriage. I’m thirty-two and you’re...?’
‘Thirty-five,’ he confirmed.
‘Exactly. We’re not impulsive teenagers, Luc. We’re old enough to be sensible. We both have responsible jobs—positions that take years of training and experience. We’re not going to get married in a rush.’
‘Maybe we’ve had this whirlwind romance, I whisked you off to New York for a mini break and we got so carried away by the romance of the city that we applied for a wedding licence while we were out there,’ he suggested.