Romance for Cynics (12 page)

Gram didn’t need to be asked twice.

As they entered the house Lucy’s mobile rang and one glance at the caller ID on the screen had her blushing.

‘Gram, I have to take this.’

With a knowing smile, Gram nodded. ‘I’ll be in the bedroom waiting for you to show me this killer ball gown.’

Lucy smiled her thanks and stabbed at the answer button on the phone. ‘Hey, you.’

‘You could sound a little more enthusiastic to hear from me,’ Cash said, his deep voice sending a thrill through her.

‘I’m doing chest-high cheerleader kicks on the inside.’

He laughed. ‘So how are you feeling? Still bruised and battered?’

‘Much better after that bath last night...’ She didn’t need to say any more and, by his sharp intake of breath, Cash was remembering exactly how he’d soothed her sore muscles last night.

He’d stroked and caressed. Kneaded and massaged. Until she’d almost purred. She’d forgotten the humiliation of her spectacular fall being filmed and shown to thousands. She’d forgotten the complications of falling for a guy potentially wrong for her in every way. She’d forgotten everything bar how he made her feel.

As if she was the most cherished woman in the world.

‘Minx.’ He paused and cleared his throat. ‘If you like, I can cut out of work for an hour, come over and repeat my extra-special massage technique just for you.’

Her body tingled all over at the thought. ‘My gram’s here.’

‘Oo-kay then, rain check.’

She chuckled. ‘Absolutely.’

‘Though it’ll have to be after the ball because I’ve got some stupid client function I have to attend tonight.’

‘That’s fine,’ Lucy said, but deep down she knew it wasn’t.

Why didn’t he invite her along? Was it because his clients were gorgeous, glamorous starlets and he didn’t think she belonged in that world?

It was one of the key differences between them that bothered her. His world was glitz and caviar and premieres. Hers was dirt and fresh air and organic veggies.

She’d been down this road before and it had ended in tears. Adrian and Cash might be very different men, but she’d dismissed the differences in the past. Was it wise to do so again?

She’d immersed herself so totally in Adrian’s wealthy world she’d almost lost her identity. Would Cash expect the same from her? Or would he keep that part of his life separate from her, and end up alienating her that way?

‘Hey, you’ve gone quiet,’ he said. ‘Surely you can tolerate not seeing me for one night?’

‘It’ll be tough, but I’ll get by,’ she said, knowing her dry response would get a laugh out of him.

‘So I’ll pick you up for the ball tomorrow at six?’

‘I’ll be ready,’ she said, all too aware that was far from the case.

She’d never be ready to have the conversation she needed to with Cash.

‘See you then, Cinders.’ He made a smooching noise and hung up.

She pressed the mobile to her chest, wishing she could hold onto the feeling talking with Cash—being with Cash—elicited.

Unfortunately, as she knew better than most, not everything lasted for ever.

TWELVE

Cash had wrestled
his bow tie into submission when the doorbell rang.

He glanced at his watch and frowned. Less than thirty minutes to pick up Lucy and head to the Melbourne Town Hall for the Valentine’s Day ball. Which meant whoever was arriving on his doorstep unannounced would get marching orders.

He opened the door and his heart sank. Ivenka Shoor, Melbourne’s top newsreader, might be one of his prime clients but their meetings were notoriously long. Not to mention dramatic.

Ivenka had a flair for turning the mundane into the extraordinary and he didn’t have time for it now.

‘Do you have a minute, Cash?’ Ivenka didn’t wait for his answer, pushing past him with the determination of a woman used to getting her own way.

‘You’ll have to make it quick. I’m on my way out.’

‘Heading to the ball?’ She gestured at her slinky black dress that did little to hide her figure. He might have been interested at one time but not any more. Right now, all Cash wanted to do was get to Lucy’s ASAP.

‘Yeah.’

‘Me too, should be a blast.’

Trying to hide his impatience, Cash glanced at his watch. ‘Surely this can wait ’til morning? I really have to go—’

‘That last investment you made on my behalf? My brother’s doing something shonky with the dividends and I’m worried. I need your help.’

Crap. As much as Cash wanted to ditch Ivenka, he couldn’t. She’d referred too many clients his way for him to shove her out of the door or defer this until the morning. He had to sort this now.

‘Give me a minute and we’ll get to the bottom of this.’

‘Knew I could count on you.’ She blew him a kiss. It made him inwardly cringe.

He headed into the study to grab his laptop, firing a quick apologetic text to Lucy and detour directions to the limo driver on the way. The faster he fixed Ivenka’s latest crisis, the faster he could meet up with the woman he cared about.

Cash’s laptop lay open on the desk and as he picked it up the screen flickered to life to display what he’d been working on.

But by the larger than life picture on the screen, he hadn’t been working this afternoon. He’d been staring at a pic of Lucy gazing at him during the post-disco interview.

He knew the exact moment they’d cropped this still. At the end, when she’d been discussing her dream date.

Her vulnerability had surprised him at the time, but what hit him now was the way she was looking at him. As if she trusted him enough to divulge that kind of information.

The disco had been their first function and he’d been so gung-ho, trying to impress her. Trying to woo her too, considering their dance-floor kiss.

Yet staring at the picture now, it revealed more than he could’ve thought possible. Because Lucy wasn’t the only one caught off guard.

His expression, his body language, totally, one hundred per cent focused on her.

It came to him in a blinding flash of clarity.

He didn’t just care about Lucy.

He loved her.

No woman had ever invaded his thoughts, and his dreams, as Lucy did.

She’d been on the fringe of his life for months now, yet it had taken some stupid PR stunt on his behalf to see the truth. That she was the kind of woman worth taking a risk on.

Blindsided, he rubbed his chest, unable to tear his gaze from the picture.

He loved Lucy.

Which begged the question: what the hell was he going to do about it?

* * *

Lucy wanted to make an impact tonight.

So she’d gone all out. Professional make-up, manicure, hair styled and a knockout dress she couldn’t afford but had bought anyway.

She hadn’t needed a stylist to tell her the dress would make an impression. A deep red satin sheath with a sweetheart neckline highlighted by crystals embedded in the bodice that draped her body and flattered in ways no control underwear could.

The colour brought out the new caramel highlights in her hair and made her eyes look impossibly huge.

She hoped Cash would take one look at her and want to keep her for real. He’d jokingly called her Cinders twice now but this girl had no intention of returning to a life of drudgery at midnight.

Uh-uh. At midnight, she hoped to be ensconced with Cash having a conversation about their future. Whatever that entailed.

Lucy twirled in front of the mirror one last time, revelling in the swish of fabric around her bare calves, the sheer indulgence of wearing shoes that sparkled.

She missed this. Missed the dressing up and the socialising and the joy of wearing fabulous clothes. She’d half expected to be panicky about donning her old persona: a woman who thrived on fashion and frivolity. A side of her she’d deliberately shut away as part of her defence mechanism against the pain Adrian had inflicted.

But freeing her inner romantic was liberating. She felt amazing, on top of the world, a woman who could do anything and be anything.

A woman confident in her capabilities to go after the guy she wanted. A woman ready to break free of the past once and for all and embrace the future.

Her mobile beeped at the same time she picked up her lip-gloss for a final swipe. One glance at the screen and she laid the gloss down. Just seeing Cash’s name appearing on the screen made her heart ricochet in her chest.

She hit the message icon.

Sorry Luce

Client crisis in progress

Car will pick U up

Will C U @ ball

Her enthusiasm deflated as she stared at the screen in dismay.

She’d spent an inordinate amount of time getting ready for tonight. Had checked her make-up and teeth and hair a thousand times. Had practised wearing her new shoes to ensure they could dance the night away. Had checked all angles in the mirror on countless occasions in the last half-hour.

All because she’d wanted to make a dazzling first impression when she opened her front door to Cash.

She shouldn’t feel so disillusioned, but she did. She felt as if she’d been robbed of her grand moment. She felt let down. And that told her more than she needed to know.

Cash mattered to her.
His opinion mattered to her, and, while she’d see him soon enough, having him choose some stupid business over her rankled.

Bad enough she had a bunch of feelings careening out of control, now she could add disappointment to the mix. For the first time since her disastrous marriage, she was willing to take a chance on letting a guy into her heart.

And she’d hoped to let Cash know that tonight.

But to feel this crushed...had her feelings really moved beyond
like
and into
love
?

And if so, was she ready for it?

Lucy picked up the lip-gloss with a shaky hand and waited until it stopped trembling before applying a final coat.

She compressed her lips together, then puckered up at the mirror, perfectly rote motions before a night out.

But all the final touches in the world wouldn’t change facts.

She might have fallen in love with Cash Burgess.

A guy who didn’t do commitment.

Her hands started shaking again and she headed for the kitchen, where she poured herself a glass of Riesling and downed it in five gulps.

The alcohol burned her throat, she drank it that quick, but it was nothing compared to the burn of something stronger in her chest.

Needing more courage but knowing another glass of wine wasn’t the answer, she re-corked. After twenty-five futile minutes of channel surfing, pacing the lounge and checking her reflection in the hallway mirror to ensure she looked okay, it was a relief when the doorbell rang.

Seeing Cash would settle her nerves. Or send them into orbit. As long as she didn’t have a crash landing either way.

She opened the door to find a driver in a uniform with the PR company logo on his left breast pocket.

‘Good evening, Miss Grant. I’m here to take you to the ball.’

Right sentiment. Wrong guy.

She forced a smile. ‘Thanks.’

He stood back and waited as she slipped her phone into her evening bag, locked up and preceded him down the porch steps to the car.

The driver held open a back door and she slid into the leather confines of the limo, annoyed by the irrational sting of tears.

She shouldn’t be this disappointed. Cash’s work was important to him, she understood that. Heck, they wouldn’t be together, fake or otherwise, if he weren’t hell-bent on ensuring his business was front and centre.

So why did she feel like bawling as the driver closed the door, slipped behind the steering wheel and started the car?

He had the petition up, something she was eternally grateful for. She didn’t want to make small talk. She didn’t want to do much of anything but sit back and ponder whether she was overreacting.

If she had a client crisis, she would do everything in her power to fix the problem. Understandable Cash would do the same.

But she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit being a teensy-weensy bit annoyed that he’d put work ahead of her on this important night.

It was the grand finale of their sham relationship and all indications pointed to him not wanting this to end as much as her.

She’d hoped to make a grand entrance with him at the ball, had hoped to prove to him she could be a part of his world.

She’d never felt so alive as she had this past week and Cash was a part of that. For her to be willing to take a risk, she’d been pretty damn sure he reciprocated her feelings.

Her doubts had been silenced following her chat with Gram yesterday. She’d seen the rock-solid relationship her grandparents had had, based on mutual respect and love. She wanted that. And knowing Gram might have been aware of Pops’ foibles but loved him unconditionally went a long way to convincing Lucy that maybe it wasn’t so bad taking a risk on following her heart if it felt right.

‘We’re here, miss.’

The driver stopped outside the Melbourne Town Hall, a glorious old building she loved for the architecture. As he held the door open her gaze landed on a flower vendor selling a gorgeous array of flowers and fruit nearby.

She loved this city, loved the many gardens surrounding the CBD. She couldn’t live anywhere but the Garden State. Yet she suddenly knew in her heart that if Cash moved to Timbuktu she’d move there too to be with the man she loved.

The driver tipped his cap. ‘Have a pleasant evening, miss.’

‘Thanks.’ Lucy mounted the stairs alongside fellow ball attendees, her earlier enthusiasm returning.

The rustle of silks, the smell of expensive fragrances, the gleam of cufflinks surrounded her and she swept into the foyer, eagerly scanning the crowd in search of her man.

It took her less than ten seconds to locate him, and two seconds to process what she was seeing.

Cash’s client crisis involved a voluptuous TV presenter in a staggeringly low-cut black dress draped all over him, one hand resting on his chest, the other around his waist, while she gazed up at him in adoration.

And Cash was laughing, his head bent low to hear what the blonde was saying, their bodies pressed against each other.

The old Lucy would’ve turned and run, as she’d run after learning of Adrian’s infidelities.

But the new Lucy had learned to harden her resolve over the years and wouldn’t back down without a fight.

How many times had she seen pictures of Cash just like this—with some beautiful woman all over him—online when she’d Googled him after he’d first asked her to be his fake girlfriend?

Too many to count, considering it was his job to provide financial advice to the stars. Socialising was part of his job, his version of professional networking, so finding him here with a semi-famous woman shouldn’t have been a shock.

What was shocking was the intense jealousy making her shake with every step that took her closer to the jocular couple.

Whatever he’d done, he’d averted the crisis. Too bad Lucy was now the one at risk of having a crisis of her own.

She dragged in calming breaths, flexing and unflexing her fingers the closer she got. It helped. Until she saw the blonde slip her hand underneath the lapel of Cash’s tux jacket, an intimate gesture that he should’ve rebuffed. He didn’t.

He caught sight of her at that moment and, rather than appearing guilty, he had the audacity to beam at her as if he’d been waiting for her all his life.

‘Luce, come and meet Ivenka.’ He slipped out from under the blonde’s clutches to place a kiss on her cheek and draw her close to him.

She tried not to stiffen but he must’ve noticed the barest flinch, for he shot her a quick glance.

‘Pleased to meet you.’ Lucy held out her hand to the blonde, who hesitated before shaking it.

Looked as if Ivenka didn’t return the sentiment, as she quickly excused herself and melted into the crowd.

‘You look stunning.’ He held her at arm’s length, his sweeping stare starting at her toes and working upwards. ‘Exquisite.’

‘Thanks,’ she said, wishing this could’ve happened at her house, with just the two of them, not with the after-effects of her jealousy making her want to say crazy things. Things like,
Do you really like me or are you a two-timing loser too?

‘Ready to go in?’ He held out the crook of his elbow and she threaded her hand through it.

‘Sure.’

They’d barely taken a step when Lucy blurted, ‘Was the crisis averted?’

‘Yeah.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Ivenka’s brother was siphoning her money. I managed to avert the prospect of lawyers and court.’

Lucy wanted to ask, ‘And none of that could’ve waited ’til morning?’ but she settled for, ‘Glad you got it sorted.’

‘Me too.’ He paused and tilted her chin up so she had no option but to look into those beautiful blue eyes she’d grown to love. ‘Gives me all evening to focus on my gorgeous date.’

Not girlfriend. Fake or otherwise.

Date.

Yep, this evening was getting better by the minute. Lucy faked a smile. ‘They’re announcing the winners soon. We should get to our table.’

Confusion clouded his eyes but he didn’t push it. ‘Okay, Cinders, let’s go in.’

As they entered the ballroom, complete with pink and red heart-shaped helium balloons tied to every surface, silver-foiled Cupids stuck everywhere and towering red rose centrepieces that made every table look like a hothouse, Lucy had a sneaking suspicion her Prince Charming might just be a pumpkin after all.