Нэнси Уоррен – My Fake Fiancée (страница 1)
He’d promised not to touch her …
David was rooted to the spot.
Naked and golden in the bath was the most glorious woman he’d ever seen. Candlelight licked lovingly at her wet skin, making him want to follow suit. Her breasts seemed to float, begging him to put his mouth on them.
Their gazes caught and held. Chelsea was so beautiful, her eyes dark and huge. “Sorry,” he said, shielding his eyes from paradise. “I should have knocked.”
He caught her movement as she dragged her knees up and covered her luscious breasts. “I thought you were in a meeting.” Water sloshed and candles flickered.
“I was supposed to be.” He hesitated. “Look, I’ll go get a drink or something. I’ll come back later.”
“No.” He heard an edge of decisiveness in her voice. “It’s okay.” Then she smiled in invitation and his body throbbed. “Care to join me…?”
About the Author
Dear Reader,
The idea for
Forced proximity is one of my favorite romantic comedy situations, and I added some spice by making the woman in question an old family friend who’d had a huge crush on the guy in school. I drew heavily on the themes of one of the all time great old movies,
Happy reading!
MY FAKE FIANCÉE
NANCY WARREN
For my Mom,
the best amateur caterer I know,
who taught me how to cook.
Thanks, Mom!
THE ELEVATOR DOORS opened like welcoming arms as David Wolfe crossed the marble floor of the office building in downtown Philadelphia. Not having to wait for an elevator during the Monday morning rush was always a good sign. It was going to be one of those great days when everything went his way.
When the doors opened again to deposit him on the twenty-first floor and the offices of Keppler, Van Horne Insurance Co., he was already moving.
Life had never been better. After six years of hard work in the prestigious family-owned-and-run firm, he’d had a few subtle hints dropped his way about a vice presidency coming vacant when Damien Macabee retired. David was so ready to be the youngest VP in the company’s history.
As he strode to his office, he greeted his assistant, “Morning, Jane.”
“Morning, David.” Jane was a middle-aged career secretary and probably the closest to a stroke of sheer luck he’d ever had in his career. They respected each other’s work ethics, operated as an efficient team and he knew that one day when he was president of Keppler, Van Horne she’d still be his right hand. A partnership like that didn’t come along very often.
“I made a couple of changes to your schedule today. The Belvedere group asked if you can make it at four instead of three, so I shuffled some things around.”
“Great, thanks.”
He scratched his nose. It was itchy with sunburn after a weekend sailing where he’d played doctor with a nurse from Boston who’d kept him too busy to think about sunscreen.
“Oh, and you had three calls from some woman named Gretchen.”
“Gretchen leave a last name?”
She smiled thinly. “I don’t think she’s interested in an insurance policy.”
“Oh, that Gretchen.” She was a flight attendant he’d had some fun with, but who clearly wanted more from the relationship than he was willing to give. “I told her not to call me at the office.” He never gave out his office number to women he hooked up with, but it wasn’t hard to track him down. A simple Google search did the trick. “If she calls again, tell her—”
“If she calls again I’ll put her through. Maybe you should tell her yourself.”
“Right. You’re right.”
“I take it you didn’t get sunburned with Gretchen.”
“No. I sailed with a woman named Claire.” He chuckled in memory. “She’s a lot of fun, in fact—”
Jane was looking over his shoulder, and suddenly interrupted, saying, “No wonder you’re going to marry her. You two are perfect for each other.”
If Jane was talking about his fiancée, it could only mean one thing, which was confirmed when an older man’s voice hailed him. “Ah, David. Do you have a minute?”
He turned to greet the president and CEO of the company, Piers Van Horne. “Sure, Piers. Come on in.”
“You’re sunburned,” the older man remarked. “Where were you and your fiancée off to this weekend?”
David felt Jane’s eyes burning into his back like twin laser beams of disapproval. Sure, it wasn’t a good idea to tell lies—even little white ones—to the boss, but David was confident his reasoning was sound.
“A little sailing off Cape Cod. The weather was gorgeous.”
He led his boss and the CEO of the company into his office, where they settled around the small conference table. David kept his space uncluttered. The only personal touches were his framed MBA degree, his current insurance industry designations and on his desk a photo of him hugging a dark-haired woman. You could only see the back of her head, but David was laughing into the camera and they were clearly having a good time.
Piers gestured to the photograph. “How’s that lovely girl of yours?”
David had been talking about his fiancée for months, ever since he’d heard rumors of Macabee’s imminent retirement. He knew that Keppler, Van Horne had an unwritten rule. No one got promoted to VP who wasn’t married. The VPs were expected to entertain clients both at home and abroad, and for that reason, Piers and his brother who ran the company preferred that the VPs, both male and female, be part of a couple. David figured he’d fudged the lines on a few rule books and he was determined to do the same with this. So, he’d started talking about his fiancée. Casually. He’d come to work on a Monday and talk about the weekend he and his fiancée had spent in New York. Or the quick trip they’d taken to the Caribbean.
“She’s wonderful,” he answered. “Gives my life meaning. And Helen and the kids?”
They chatted about college decisions and braces and then Piers said, “We’d like to celebrate your engagement. We’re a family business and, let’s face it, we’re all involved in each other’s lives, especially at the executive level. We’ve got a board dinner coming up. I want you to come along and bring your fiancée with you.”
For him to be invited to a dinner with the members of the board was a huge honor. It meant he was being looked over by the board members before he was offered the VP spot.
Yes! It was really happening. He was going to be the youngest VP in Keppler, Van Horne’s history.
And that’s when David got it.
It wouldn’t be
David considered himself a glass-half-full kind of guy, but right now he felt like that glass had fallen off the table and smashed to pieces on the floor, spilling all his hard work and dreams of promotion with it.
“An engagement dinner?” His voice sounded a little higher-pitched than usual as he frantically tried to think of a way out. “I’m not sure, she’s got a pretty hectic schedule, I’ll—”
Piers rose and clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. Since you two are the guests of honor, we’ll work around your schedule. We’ve got plans for you, son. Big plans.”
“Thank you, Piers.”
After his boss left, he should have plunged into the day’s work. Instead, he tried not to panic and started to think.
He was staring out his office window, watching the pedestrians scurrying like so many ants way down on Arch Street. The hub of the city center was as busy as always as workers scuttled along hot sidewalks before diving into air-conditioned high rises.
Jane entered. “Here are the—” She stopped when she noticed he had his forehead pressed against his office window. It was possible he may have groaned. “What’s the matter with you?”
He turned. “Piers and the board want to have an engagement dinner for my fiancée and I. We get to set the date so I can’t pretend she’s not available.”
Jane dropped a stack of papers on his desk with a thump. “If you’re looking for sympathy, you came to the wrong person. Didn’t I warn you?” She shook her head. “What are you going to do? Break up with the love of your life before the dinner?”
He ignored the sarcasm and shook his head.