Microsoft Word - catherine mann - landis brothers 4 - rich man's fake fiancee.docx (13 page)

“Sounds to me like you’re describing sex buddies and sex buddies don’t exchange rings.” How odd that a few weeks ago, sex buddies would have actually sounded like a fun fantasy come true. Except now this ring screwed up everything because it taunted her with the deeper sentiments that she wanted—deserved—from life someday.

“What do you expect from me?” Matthew stared down at her, frustration sparking in his gem-green eyes. “Do you want me to say I love you? I’ve been in love before and it takes a while. I haven’t known you long enough to be sure about something like that.

But I can say that I think I could love you someday. So why break things off when there’s that possibility out there?”

Could love her someday? Talk about a rousing endorsement.

Then her mind hitched on one phrase to the exclusion of everything else he’d said. “You’ve been in love before?”

He went stone still.

“Matthew? Who was it?” She couldn’t resist asking, too darn curious about the woman who had managed to steal his heart.

“The press has linked you to plenty of women over the years and certainly speculated about more than a few of them recently, but nothing serious ever seemed to come of those liaisons. I think that’s part of the reason they’ve gone so snap happy over our fake engagement.”

“You’re probably correct,” he conceded, although still neatly dodging her question.

Her curiosity only heightened. She wasn’t sure why it should matter so much when she was determined to break things off.

She should be running for the door before her will faltered.

Still, she had to ask. “Then who is the woman? I think even my pretend-fiancée status gives me the right to ask.”

He started to reach for his collar again before dropping his arm to his side as he stepped around her to peer out the window.

“Someone I knew in college—Dana.” He stuffed his fists into his pockets, his jaw hard. “Dana and I became engaged unexpectedly fast and before I could introduce her to the family, she died.”

Her heart squeezed inside her chest with sympathy, and an impending sense of how he’d never been hers from the beginning.

“I’m so sorry.” She tentatively touched his shoulder, unable to resist offering comfort for those long-ago hurts. She knew well from her parents’ abandonment how long those emotional aches could persist. “It must have been horrible to lose her.”

“It was,” he said simply, but the two words carried more pain than any lengthy monologue could have. His muscles tensed under her touch.

“What happened?” she asked gently.

“She—Dana—had a heart defect, something rare that had gone undetected.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, his jaw flexing. Pain pulsed from him as palpably as if he’d shouted the words.

“You really loved Dana.” Part of her ached to comfort him. Another part, a new stronger piece of herself asserted she deserved that same intense love. She couldn’t accept being a second-best sex buddy.

Ashley stepped away from Matthew. She carefully placed her fairy-tale diamond and all the precious multi-faceted dreams it had held on to the bedside table. “I’m sorry, Matthew, this is just how it has to end—”

The phone jangled by her engagement ring, jolting her back a step.

Matthew hesitated, his eyes holding hers while the ringing continued. She waved him toward the call. She should call her sisters for a ride. They shouldn’t be too far away since they’d dropped her off less than an hour ago.

His eyes still narrowed and locked on her, he crossed to pick up the receiver. “Landis residence.”

She started to reach for her cell when something fierce in Matthew’s expression as he took the call made her hesitate.

No more than four thudding heartbeats later, he scowled and reached for the television remote resting beside the lamp.

“Right, got it, Brent. I’m tuning in now.”

He thumbed the remote, activating the flat-screen television mounted on the wall. What could the press have come up with on them this time? Pictures of them would be embarrassing but useless. Still she could see from Matthew’s frown this wasn’t happy news.

RICH MAN’S FAKE FIANCEE

28

CATHERINE MANN

SILHOUETTE DESIRE 1878

THE LANDIS BROTHERS

The TV screen blazed to life with a newsflash that was already in progress. A photo-inset box appeared in the upper right-hand corner behind the news-caster’s head, complete with a picture of Matthew at the golf course…

With his arm around a blond hottie plastered to his side.

Ten

“S o do we shoot him outright or do we torture him first?” Her expression fierce, Starr leaned her elbows on her restaurant table across from Ashley and Claire.

Ashley tried to shake free the numbed sensation still dogging her even two hours after the call from Matthew’s campaign manager. There had barely been time for Matthew to turn to Ashley and state, “The photos aren’t what you think,” before his family had begun pouring into the house for a troubleshooting session.

Sure he’d had an explanation about the water girl at the golf course throwing herself at him, which left him instinctively steadying her at an inopportune time since the press packed the parking lot. His brothers affirmed he didn’t know her—although unlucky for Matthew, his brothers had been in search of food at that particular moment.

He’d been so busy trying to convince her, yet the whole water-girl incident felt like nothing to her in comparison to his revelation about Dana. Ashley believed there was nothing to those golf-course photos.

Her problem boiled down to trust on a larger scale. The need to trust he could ever have deep feelings for another woman again. The belief that he could someday fall for her.

Her sisters had called almost immediately and turned around to come back to Hilton Head. Claire had told her—in a tone that brooked no argument—that they were on their way. Ashley had been more than grateful for the opportunity to escape the mayhem of campaign central working damage control.

Which was how she ended up in a dark back corner of an out-of-the-way seafood restaurant, wearing sunglasses and a ball cap.

Ashley scratched under the hat. She didn’t want her life “spun” anymore.

Starr dragged the bread basket over from the middle of the table, the pregnant woman’s appetite apparently insatiable. “So?

Quick death or torture?”

Claire unfolded and refolded her napkin precisely. “To think, the press missed the real story when they actually bought into that engagement story hook, line and sinker.”

Ashley snatched the perfectly creased napkin from her sister’s hands. “Who says it isn’t real? I never gave you any indication otherwise.”

“Oh come on, we know you.” Claire patted Ashley’s hand, still bare of the engagement ring. “You’re too much like me.

You wouldn’t get engaged to someone you didn’t know well.”

“You’ve never done anything impulsive in the romance department?” She waited to see how her sister would dodge that question since they all knew Claire had gotten pregnant in a one-night stand with a friend who was now her head-over-heels-in-love husband and father to their beautiful baby girl.

Claire raised a perfectly arched blond eyebrow. “Somebody’s not playing nice today.” She reached to the empty table next to them and snagged a new napkin. “But you’re forgiven because of the stress.”

Ashley struggled to shrug off the defensiveness. These were her sisters. She couldn’t lie to them anymore. Perhaps it was time she also stopped lying to herself.

She rubbed the bare spot where the engagement ring had rested. “It doesn’t matter now anyway. Matthew and I are over.”

Or rather Matthew had been trying to bring up the possibility of staying together and she’d cut him off short.

Claire studied her with a gentle concern reminiscent of Aunt Libby’s maternal care. “Is this about the suggestive photos?”

“The ones of me and him, or the ones of her and him?” Ashley crinkled her nose. “The one of him at the golf course actually doesn’t worry me beyond what damage it could do to his campaign. I’m certain the picture was a setup.”

And oddly enough, she was sure. She trusted him with physical faithfulness. Totally. He’d never been anything but honest with her, even when it hurt. She’d heard clearly enough in his voice how much he’d loved that woman from long ago, a real romance that concerned her far more than any manufactured one on the evening news.

Starr sagged back in her seat, tearing into another piece of bread while the other guests and televisions buzzed loudly enough to afford them privacy to talk. “I guess this means we don’t get to enjoy torturing your hunky senatorial candidate.”

Ashley allowed herself a half smile. “I would appreciate it if you took a pass on that this go-round.”

Claire patted her hand, her nail tapping the spot where the ring used to nestle waiting for a wedding band to complete the set. “Now your schedule is free and clear again.”

Ashley tugged the sunglasses off. To hell with anonymity. She wanted to see life clearly now more than ever. “Don’t worry, I will uphold my end of the obligations with reopening Beachcombers.”

Claire and Starr exchanged a loaded look before Claire tugged a folder from her overlarge purse. “We were actually getting ready to turn around and come back when the news story broke.”

“Turn around? Why?” When they still hesitated so long a waitress managed to work her way past with a steaming platter of crab legs, Ashley pressed harder, “Please, don’t hold anything back. I’ve been up-front with you and I’m going to be hurt if you aren’t equally open with me.”

Claire twisted her napkin in a totally un-Claire disregard for order, which relayed just how nervous she must be. “We weren’t lying about anything earlier. We simply omitted some thoughts we’ve been having about the whole rebuilding process.”

Starr shoved away the now nearly empty bread basket. “What do you plan to do with your future, after the election—if you and Matthew don’t stay together?”

“I imagined we’ll be busy renovating Beachcombers.” The possibility of taking him up on his offer still felt so alien she hadn’t thought that far ahead. She needed to get her head together and in the present. She looked from sister to sister. “What are you both keeping from me? Was there something wrong with the insurance adjustment after all?”

“No, nothing like that,” Claire rushed to reassure her.

Ashley relaxed back in her chair. “Okay, then. I appreciate all the times you helped me and protected me and built me up over the years.” She injected strength in her words to match the steel in her spine. “But I’m not that shy, insecure little kid anymore.

Could you please stop treating me like a child and welcome me into your grown-ups club?”

Starr covered Ashley’s hand with hers. “We love you. It’s hard not to worry.”

RICH MAN’S FAKE FIANCEE

29

CATHERINE MANN

SILHOUETTE DESIRE 1878

THE LANDIS BROTHERS

“Thank you.” She squeezed Starr’s hand and reached for Claire’s, as well. “I love you both, too. So tell me. What’s with all the secret looks? Come on, Claire? Spill it.”

“We’re just wondering if we should look into options other than reopening Beachcombers.”

Claire’s words hovered over the table between them, heavy and unexpected.

Ashley finally got her brain off stun long enough to speak. “You mean level Aunt Libby’s house?”

“No, not that.” Starr waved aside that possibility, thank God. “We could use the insurance money to restore the place to its former glory. Then sell it. Let a family live and grow and flourish there.”

Claire angled forward. “We could split the proceeds three ways and it will still give us each the chance to pursue any career dreams we want. I can open my own catering business with more flexible hours for the baby.”

Ashley turned to Starr. “And you feel the same way about this?”

“Yes, sweetie. I do. I’ve always wanted to go back to art school and study abroad. Sure, my husband can afford it, but I appreciate the chance to finance it myself. You have your degree and this would give you a nice financial cushion. But we don’t want you to feel like you don’t have a home.”

Their plan made sense. They both had husbands, homes, children and unique career dreams of their own. And she had…

A wonderfully unconventional family who loved her and a quirky old lady who’d taught her to value herself. None of that would change because of owning or selling a particular house.

Ashley squeezed her sisters’ hands. “We have a bond, the three of us, that goes beyond any house. The memories Aunt Libby gave us are a far stronger link than any home could ever be. And I think she would like the notion of a family being brought up in her home.”

Across the restaurant, one of the patrons reached to turn up the volume on one of the televisions. Starr’s eyes widening gave her the first hint that she’d better check it out.

Ashley pivoted in her chair for a better view of the screen. A local news announcement had interrupted the sporting event.

“Senatorial candidate Matthew Landis’s campaign has just announced he will be making a statement to the press outside his headquarters.”

What could he be planning to say? She’d left the family gathering before a consensus had been reached. No doubt if they didn’t act soon, his opponent would beat him to the punch and no telling what he would concoct. Damn shame nobody ever seemed interested in posting compromising photos of Martin Stewart. But then Matthew was the forerunner right now, so tearing him down made for better news and a tighter race—which generated more public interest.

Where did she fit into all of this?

She looked at her sisters and thought of how even logical Claire had begun following her heart. Ashley stared at the pictures of Matthew on the television screen—one of him with her, then the one from the golf course, followed by an image of him alone.

From the moment she’d seen that image of him with the blonde, she’d known he wasn’t seeing anyone else. Aside from the fact he’d been with her nearly every second of every day, she knew him to be an honorable man. He’d even been willing to put his campaign, his life’s dream, in jeopardy to make things right for her.