Let's Pretend (Romantic Comedy, Contemporary, Second Chance, Sensual) (4 page)

“How many more of your family members are due?”

“She won’t say. Just that when the time is right, she’ll tell us why we’re here.”

“What does your mum think? If anyone can get it out of Annie, it’s Vicki.”

Her mum who was artistic, flighty, and fun. A woman who had dragged herself out of a dark place after her husband’s death, she decided life was too uncertain to let a day go by without making the most of it. Armed with her new motto of ‘live every day as if it were your last’, Victoria Murphy had changed the spelling of her name from Vicky to Vicki and jumped into the exciting pool of life with both feet.

“Mum isn’t here yet. She’s due to arrive later tonight.”

“Maybe you’re worrying for nothing. You know how crafty Annie can be. Perhaps her request for us all to be here is her cunning way to force her family to visit.”

Belle had to admit her
gran
was wily. She’d played more than one trick on them in the past. But something was different this time. Gran seemed subdued, unresponsive to even the most diligent effort to cheer her up. Belle had tried several times to speak with her
gran
since she’d arrived yesterday at lunchtime. Gran had either cut her off, claiming to be tired and in need of a nap, or she’d flat-out shooed Belle from her bedroom when she’d tried to examine her.

“I’ve hardly seen her since I got here—she keeps napping. I’ve never known my
gran
to take afternoon naps. Yet two minutes after I arrived, she went off for one.” Unwilling to allow Lucas to see the tears brimming her eyes, Belle cradled her head in her hands. “I’m convinced she’s called this family meeting to break bad news.”

She couldn’t bear the thought of her beloved Gran dying. Not now, when Belle needed her strength and wisdom.

The bed depressed beneath Luc’s weight. When he placed an almost tentative hand on her back, Belle restrained the urge to lean against him. “Is there anything I can do?”

In the last six months, Belle had learned to stop thinking of Luc as her source of strength, but she needed his cooperation this last time. “Actually, there is. You can’t let anyone know we’re divorced. I don’t want Gran to have any stress until we know why she brought us here.”

“You want to pretend our marriage is solid?”

Belle beseeched him with her eyes. “That’s the only option. Can you imagine how Gran might react if we announced our break-up? I’d rather err on the side of caution and pretend everything is perfect between us for now.”

He blew out a sigh and rubbed his jaw with the hand that wasn’t sending sentient sparks down her back. “How hard can it be to pretend for the next couple of days?” Luc’s familiar Irish lilt did little to soothe her.

“Exactly! How hard can it be?”
 

4

B
elle may not have loved him any longer, but she wasn’t immune to him; she’d melted in his arms less than twenty minutes ago. Perhaps the kiss she’d greeted him with had started out as a frantic effort at pretence, but it had ended in white hot, bona fide awareness.

Luc smiled. He could see where going along with Belle’s plan could work in his favour. He didn’t like being part of a divorced couple, and certainly not when Belle made up the other half. He regretted every nanosecond of the minutes it had taken him to allow Belle to throw him out of their home. For months before that last fight, he could feel her pulling away from him; he’d touch her and she’d flinch. He’d walk into a room, and she’d find a reason to walk out. His off days were spent waiting for her to get off her hospital shift only to get a call from her—when dinner was good and cold sitting on the table—to say she had to pull a double shift because of some emergency surgery or other.
 

He didn’t resent her job—at least not to begin with. She was a great A&E trauma surgeon and had put together more accident victims than he cared to count. She’d been the surgeon on duty when one of his men had needed immediate lifesaving surgery, after a near-fatal injury while fighting a house fire.

It was after that that Belle started to change toward him. Luc didn’t feel he had much of a choice when she finally asked for a divorce. He’d rather release her from their vows than risk the kind of marriage his parents had.

Those two hated each other. Had only stayed together for his sake, and by the time he went off to university, they could barely hide their loathing for one another.

He couldn’t bear for Belle to hate him.
 
She needed him, and he’d be there for her. He’d go along with her pretence. She didn’t realise it, but she’d just handed him the perfect opportunity to remind her of the love they’d once shared—to show her how much he still loved her.

“Okay,” he said, sliding his hand from her back to her shoulder, drawing her close to his side. “I’ll do it.”

Belle turned her grateful gaze on him. Gratitude wasn’t what he wanted to see reflected in her blue eyes. He would’ve given anything to get a glimpse of the passion he’d seen just after she’d planted that all-fire kiss on him.

“Oh, Luc, thank you.” Belle reached up and kissed his cheek.

Talk about lukewarm gratitude. No time to start on his plan like the present. Belle hadn’t yet applied for the decree absolute. He still had time to change her mind about filing. To his way of thinking, three days wasn’t a lot of time, and wasting even a second could be detrimental to him winning back Belle’s love.

He lowered his head, intent on covering her lips with his.

Belle leaped off the bed so fast she nearly lost her footing. “What are you doing?”

He grinned. “Sealing our agreement with a kiss.”

She wagged a finger at him. “There’ll be none of that. Let’s get ground rules ironed out straight away. All displays of affection are to be kept strictly public. Behind closed doors, we’re still a couple well and truly divorced.”

He was afraid she’d say that, but he couldn’t stop grinning, and when she frowned at him and slid her palms down her slim jean-clad legs, he figured he’d share the part of her impulsive plan she clearly hadn’t thought of. “That’s a tall order, Belle. You’re asking me to test my restraint beyond limits when we have to share a room.” He patted the bed while waggling his brows at her.
 

Momentarily horrified, she looked from him to the bed, back to him, then the door. “Drat, I completely forgot about that.” Her gaze narrowed. “You can take that smug look off your face, because I have news for you.” She turned to the cupboard behind her. Pulling open the double doors, she reached into the walk-in wardrobe and fought a metal object out from against the back wall. Giving a triumphant grin, she unfolded the narrow foldout bed. “Ta-
daa
,” she sang. “You get to sleep on this!”

Why couldn’t he have fallen in love with a bimbo instead of a gorgeous surgeon with a genius IQ? One look at the flimsy little bed, and Luc knew it’d never hold up under his weight—in fact, he intended to make sure it didn’t. Once it crashed to the floor with him on it, her caring nature and a bit of guilt would ensure she let him into her bed. Of course, she’d make him sleep on top of the covers, with every pillow in the house between them. But at least he’d be where he longed to be—in bed next to his wife.

“Fine.” He gave his best impression of acquiescence. “But you might want to tuck it back into the cupboard in case one of your relatives comes in and sees it. You wouldn’t want to risk Gran noticing we aren’t sleeping together.”

The word “sleeping” seemed to echo around the bright room with innuendo. Belle must have detected it also, because she blushed and dropped her gaze. Luc noticed the slight tremor in her hands as she wrestled the bed back into the cupboard. He should have helped, but the sight of her neat butt pressed against the seat of her jeans as she bent over the metal object had his mind drifting in directions that had more to do with lying on the bed than hiding it away.

After her exertion, she closed the doors and turned back to face him. Luc cleared his throat and didn’t bother to hide his appreciation of her chest rising and falling under her white, close-fitting tank top.

She leaned back against the doors and folded her arms. “This is not a game, Luc. I truly appreciate your help, but please don’t get any ideas.”

Too late
.

He nodded, schooled his features into a serious expression. “Understood. However, I haven’t told you
my
conditions for going along with your plan—yet.”

“You have conditions?” Speculation entered her eyes, and she tightened her mouth. “I would’ve never believed you capable of using vulnerability to your advantage, Luc. If you’re asking me to have sex with you in exchange for your help, you can just forget it. I’d rather go out there, tell everyone we’re done, then deal with the consequences.” Her sandy blonde curls, scraped into a ponytail, swished back and forth with her angry movements as she jabbed a finger toward the door.

“Stop jumping to assumptions, Belle. You have no idea what I’m about to say. But since you put the idea of sex in my mind...”

She gave him a murderous glare.

He laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “Okay. No sex.” He stood and closed the space between them, much in the same way he wanted to shut the void that had developed between them over a year ago. “But you have to promise me we’ll talk about what is really going on with us. I want the real reason you filed for divorce. Because it has got to be more than me missing the hospital’s fundraiser dinner, Dr. Murphy.”

~*~

BELLE SIDLED away from Luc, needing to get some distance and with it, perspective. He’d never bothered to ask for a reason before. She’d expected him to challenge her decision, and when he’d simply accepted her announcement that their relationship was over, she’d been both shocked and relieved. The last thing Belle wanted was to rehash old hurts and fears. Luc would never understand the crippling dread that held her hostage.

“Fine, we’ll talk...
after
you help me.” Belle set a path to the bedroom door. Pausing with her hand on the doorknob, she turned to find Luc staring at her with a contemplative expression. “Coming?”

Finally, after a good thirty seconds, he strode toward her. He nodded to the door. “After you, wife.”
 

Belle yanked it open. Her sudden nerves had nothing to do with the way Luc had said the word
wife,
with such intense feeling it pierced her heart. She was simply nervous because she was about to deceive her family. Maybe her intentions were born from her protective instincts, but the fact remained—she wasn’t being honest with the people she cared about. And to add a twist to her scheme, Belle was no actress.

As they descended the stairs, Luc dropped his arm around her shoulders, giving her a little squeeze. “Are you ready for this?”

“Not at all.”

He chuckled. “I won’t let you down. I promise to act the devoted husband.”

Every muscle in Belle’s body tensed. Luc was going to have fun playing with her. She’d heard the little telling nuance at the end of
husband
.

“Luc, I’m warning you. Don’t go overboard. No one expects us to be in the honeymoon stage of our marriage any longer. In fact, most couples start to forget each other exist after five years.” She started to warm to this new supposed stage of their relationship. “Yeah, I’ve seen couples like that. He walks ahead, leaving his wife to struggle behind with the shopping. He stops opening doors for her, never pulls out her chair, and the only time he notices his wife is to tell her to fix her hair.”

Luc’s playful smile segued into a grave expression. “That’s not the kind of man I am. My wife will always be the centre of my world.”