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The Fiancee Charade
Darcy Maguire
The diary of Jess Thompson…Friday 7th: My business is struggling–need to get inside info from arch-rival businessman Alex Calahan. He's looking for a bride–and my colleague thinks I could help….Wednesday 12th, a.m.: Alex has hired me to teach him the art of romance! Note to self: must not fall for Alex. He might be gorgeous–but he seems to be after that snob Natasha Bradford-Jones.Wednesday p.m.: Eek! He's persuaded me to pose as his fiancée to make horrid Natasha jealous! But why does he want her? I'm the one for him!Friday 14th: His fiancée charade is having opposite effect–he seems more interested in me! Note to self: can I fall for him now?
Jess’s belly tightened. “The last thing I want to do is help. I think I’ve done enough. I think you’ve done enough pretending that I’m your fiancée…. I think it’s time for me to go home.”
“Stay,” Alex whispered. “We can talk this through. You can tell me what an idiot I am. Please.”
Jess warred with herself. Hell, she was starting to feel for the guy. Sure, he was a messed-up individual, but with parents like his, and with a head that hardly fit through a door for the size of his ego, she understood him.
She shook her head and forced her legs to move. She had to go. She couldn’t stay. She was starting to soften to his cause, to feel his pain, to see his heart….
Darcy Maguire spends her days as a matchmaker, torturing tall, handsome men, seducing them into believing in love and romancing their socks off! And when she’s not working on her novels, she enjoys gardening, reading and going to the movies. She loves to hear from readers. Visit her at www.darcymaguire.com
Books by Darcy Maguire
HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®
3745—HER MARRIAGE SECRET
3754—ACCIDENTAL BRIDE
3801—A PROFESSIONAL ENGAGEMENT* (#litres_trial_promo)
3805—THE BEST MAN’S BABY* (#litres_trial_promo)
3809—A CONVENIENT GROOM* (#litres_trial_promo)
The Fiancée Charade
Darcy Maguire
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#uad44f52c-4252-5a10-95d0-2d2f2bf1de53)
CHAPTER TWO (#u165842a5-8f5d-54b0-ba98-279992e70526)
CHAPTER THREE (#ua2a172f2-79d2-5862-8faf-3b11ac3790d6)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u9985a015-d259-565f-9dce-12b5e7969111)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
‘YOU won’t believe this.’ Kath slapped down a women’s magazine on the bar in front of Jess Thompson, the pages open.
Jess lowered her cocktail and stared at the full-page picture, her breath catching in her throat.
It couldn’t be.
No way.
She touched the glossy surface gingerly, tracing the name printed in bold letters at the top of the spread, shaking her head slowly. How much more was this guy going to torture her?
‘Alexander Calahan,’ Kath purred close to her.
It was him. The man that Jess had thought about incessantly for the last four years.
She stared at the image filling the page. He looked wider in the shoulders than she’d imagined, and far more handsome.
She’d hoped he’d look like the weasel he was, but there was no justice in the world. He was far cuter than he deserved to be, considering the person he was—and what he’d done.
She chewed on her bottom lip. Maybe he’d had the shot touched up to wipe out his warts, scales and horns. After all, no female executive flicking through would hire this guy for the advertising needs of her company if he looked like the creature he was.
‘It’s new today.’ Kath slid onto the stool beside her, smoothing down the blood-red dress that was clinging to her ample body. ‘Saw it on the way here and had to buy it for you.’
‘Thanks,’ Jess whispered tightly, pushing an errant lock of brown hair back from her face. Seeing this guy in a magazine was the last thing she needed, yet she couldn’t tear her eyes away.
The watch at his wrist looked as if it was gold, the tie was Italian silk, and the tailored suit he wore had probably cost more than her father’s car.
His clean-shaven good-boy image was corrupted only by the intensity in his stormy blue eyes.
Jess shivered. He looked human, but she knew better. He was the devil in a black dinner suit.
‘I know you’ve had a lot on your plate, what with Dean and all.’ Kath raised a hand, tossing her short black bob back from her face and signalling the barman. ‘But we can’t exactly ignore this. Our company is struggling to stay afloat here.’ She slapped the magazine, her bracelets jangling. ‘And this is disastrous.’
Jess ignored her colleague’s panic, staring at the image in front of her. ‘He’s not as handsome as they all like to make out.’
Kath sighed, sagging against the bar. ‘Why don’t you tell him that?’ She stabbed her finger onto Alexander Calahan’s face, which was smiling seductively up at them. ‘I’m sure he doesn’t hear it often.’
Jess lifted her chin. ‘I could.’
‘Go on, then. This is your chance to tell the King of the ad world exactly what you think of him.’ Kath swept her hand in front of her as though trying to swat a fly. ‘And if at the same time you could knobble him a bit, it would help.’
She should tell the arrogant jerk exactly what she thought of him—but what would it accomplish? He didn’t even know she existed, let alone her and Kath’s little ad company, Kingston and Co, which was struggling to win any attention from a business world with the Calahan empire dominating the marketplace.
Kath ordered a cocktail from the barman and swung to face Jess, her eyes bright. ‘You can’t let him get away with this blatant stunt to pull even more attention for him and his company.’
Jess shook herself. What? There was more to his photo plastered over the highest-selling magazine than selling his company? She swallowed hard, tearing her attention away from his picture to the words below.
‘“Eligible bachelor seeks bride,”’ she read slowly, the words ricocheting around her head like a stray bullet. No. ‘He can’t be serious. He’s selling himself?’
‘Hell, no.’ Kath stabbed at the article on the facing page. ‘This is just a way to brag himself up and pull in more of the women’s advertising out there in the market than he already has.’ Kath shook her head. ‘And ruin us all in the process.’
Jess opened her mouth but couldn’t speak, her blood roaring through her body like molten lava. There was no way she could let him get away with it. Not again. He’d pulled just about all the dirty tricks in the book and she’d had enough.
She jerked to her feet, straightening her taupe suit jacket over her white silk organza waistcoat, her heart thundering in her chest. She flexed her fingers. They had to do something.
Kath slid Jess’s drink across to her other hand. ‘So, what are we going to do? Call a newspaper and try to give them dirt on the guy? Or issue a public challenge to his motives?’
Jess stared at the man in the photo, trying to sort her thoughts out from the tangle of emotions sizzling through her.
What did she want?
She sank back onto the stool, her hands clenched by her sides. She wanted to tie the guy up and steal away his most coveted clients while he was incapacitated—for the guy to get what he deserved and to have the world know what a cunning liar he was.
Kath combed down the stray wisps of hair escaping her bob. ‘Or try for false advertising? There is no way on the planet that man is looking to settle down.’
‘All good ideas,’ Jess said as calmly as she could manage, taking a deep, slow breath, her mind running through the scenarios. She flicked the page, scanning the article. ‘But there’s not much we can do.’
‘Don’t tell me you’re going to take it on the chin again?’ Kath knocked back Jess’s drink and slammed the empty glass down onto the bar. ‘I’m sick of you taking it all and then complaining endlessly about the guy. When are you going to dish it out?’
Jess shook her head. She wasn’t ready to dish it out. She wanted to have his company in tatters at her feet, then stomp on the man himself—grind the last sliver of his ego into the dust with the heel of her Pradas.
Jess stared into the long mirror behind the bar. That could be a while away. Maybe never, the way their luck was going.
She watched the flow of patrons through the foyer behind her. She froze, her heart slamming into her ribs. ‘Isn’t that—?’
Kath swung around on her stool. ‘Yes. He’s here. Alexander Calahan is here,’ she chirped, a manic grin spreading across her face.
‘You knew he’d be here?’ Jess squeaked, her mind tumbling around for the significance.
‘Sure. I figured it was about time you got it all off your chest.’ Kath picked up the mag and waved it in front of Jess. ‘Including this latest blow.’
Jess stared at the reflection of the man. It was really, truly him. The man who had haunted her for years was in the same room as she was, breathing the same air, listening to the same soft background music and about to look at the same menu.
She shook her head, her heart thundering in her chest, her brain trying to absorb her friend’s last words. ‘What? Talk to him?’
Kath held the magazine close to her chest, a smile tugging at her mouth. ‘Give him exactly what he deserves, honey. Vent. Get it off your chest. It’s not healthy to carry that sort of baggage around. What have you got to lose?’
Jess swung around and faced the genuine article. He was deep in conversation with a group of suited men, moving towards the dining area.
He was even cuter in the flesh. His jaw was smooth, his chiselled features made all the more striking by the slight cleft in his chin, and his lips were firm, inviting all sorts of promises…that she had no intention of pursuing.
She swallowed hard. She couldn’t miss the women in the room coyly looking at the man with sickening smiles on their faces.
‘Go on—tell him what you think of him,’ Kath urged from behind her, giving her a shove in the small of her back.
Jess picked up Kath’s drink from the bar, holding it close to her chest. Could she? She took a sip and lifted her chin. Why not?
She stood up and stepped forward, her body tight, her breath stuck in her lungs. Her blood ran hot and fast, like a torrential flow of hot lava, filling her ears, her belly and her cheeks.
Kath had no idea what she was asking of her. No idea how much she’d thought about this moment. No idea how much she wanted to say or how much it meant to her.
But Kath was right. Why not now?
The guy had romanced a leading cosmetic company out of Jess and Kath’s future, showering the executives in champagne and gifts. He’d manoeuvred his way into a women’s magazine article, spouting sincerity and a heart that he could no way own. And now he’d walked into the restaurant she was in, flaunting his success, waving his bankroll and fancy suit in front of her, just begging for a dressing-down and a few home truths.
There was only so much a girl could take.
Jess strode forward, weaving her way through his group towards the man himself, standing resplendent in a tailored Armani suit at the entrance to the dining area.
He was way taller than she’d imagined, or than his photo suggested. She slowed…He had to be at least a good head taller than her, and she was wearing heels.
She lifted her chin. ‘Calahan,’ she bit out as she approached, clenching her fingers on the drink in front of her, fighting to hear herself think over the pounding of her heart in her chest.
What was she doing?
He swung around to face her, his stormy blue eyes meeting hers, catching and holding them.
His presence hit her full force in the chest.
He was incredible…cute…and real.
Jess swallowed hard, narrowing her eyes, forcing herself to take the last few steps. She could understand now why he was so successful with women, despite his obvious flaws in personality.
Calahan broke the link, his gaze drifting down over her—from the large green eyes that she hoped were spitting the fire she felt boiling within her, down past her red lips—held tightly closed, struggling against the barrage of curses wanting to escape—to her office outfit and the curves of her body that she usually liked to be appreciated, and up again.
