Falling For Her Fake Fiancé
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He wouldn’t think of the smile that warmed him right down to his toes, and the laugh that lodged in his chest when he wasn’t on guard.
All of that was before Sydney, buster. Not only since then.
Mac threw his pen at the far wall. Ping. Didn’t underline his feelings. The water bottle followed. Bigger ping. Just as well he’d already drunk the contents.
Not feeling any better here. Cherie had been the love of his life. Had been? Still was. There wasn’t room for another one. He’d never recover if something went wrong a second time. He was still recovering from losing Cherie.
Where was that chopper?
Ten minutes could whizz past in seconds, or it could drag out into an hour. Today was the drawn-out version. Mac chewed and chewed on his tasteless sandwich: cold beef with zucchini pickle care of his mother. She sent him a package about once a month, filled with jars of homemade jams and pickles, a fruit cake, and sometimes in winter homemade chocolates, which he gave to the kid next door. Comfort food that he enjoyed but wouldn’t admit to in case it made him look like a spoiled brat.
His mother had been the cushion in his life growing up with a tyrannical father who believed his way was the only way for just about everything. Make that absolutely everything. So the packages were warmly accepted as a reminder of his mother’s unconditional love and how not everyone was hard on others. They’d stopped when Mac married, but about a month after Cherie died there’d been one on the doorstep when he’d got home from work, and they hadn’t stopped since.
Stephanie waltzed through the door without any preamble. ‘Our girl’s being brought down from the landing pad now.’
Instantly on his feet, Mac tossed the remainder of his snack in the bin. ‘Let’s go.’
‘If it’s okay, I’ve put Kelli on this one. She’s good with the littlies.’
So were other nurses, and they weren’t distracting. But, ‘Why wouldn’t it be all right?’
Stephanie watched him, her head on a slight angle. ‘I think you can probably answer that better than me, but it seems she’s got you rattled.’
Fortunately Stephanie headed out of the room so he didn’t have to come up with some unlikely reply, denial being at the top of the list. And if he denied what she was implying, he’d be lying.
His gut had been in turmoil from the moment he’d seen Kelli on the sidewalk outside the hospital on the phone to Tamara, and didn’t feel as if it intended settling down any time soon.
Time to focus on the job, starting with the young girl now arriving in ED.
* * *
Izzie had been given morphine making her barely comatose, which was a good thing, Mac decided as they worked to find the extent of her injuries. She’d hit the post with her thigh, fracturing the bone in three places. Her pelvis hadn’t come off any better.
‘Thankfully none of her organs were damaged,’ Mac informed the girl’s mother as they waited for the orderly to take the child to Theatre to have those bones seen to. ‘Nor is there any head injury apart from the cut above her eye, though there’s a severe whiplash to her neck, which will cause ongoing issues with headaches and muscle tension. Izzie will be referred to a neurologist for help with that.’
Tears poured down the young mother’s face as she gripped her unconscious daughter’s hand. ‘But she will be all right? Won’t she? Please say yes.’
He wanted to. He really wanted to. It was inherent in him to make people feel better, or safe, or at least able to function normally. It was something that had started the day he saw his father kicking the family dog for being sick on the kitchen floor. Mac had snatched Pippy away and run for the garden shed, only to be followed and given a lesson in not letting animals or people turn him into a miserable excuse for a man.
But being honest was right up there too. ‘Izzie may always walk with a limp. Whiplash can also be hard to completely put right.’
The tears became a torrent. ‘My poor little girl. It’s not fair. She’s always been such a monkey, climbing trees and ladders and getting into places no one would’ve thought possible. She terrifies me at times, but there’s no stopping her. She thinks she’s bulletproof.’
‘She’s probably had the biggest wake-up call possible.’ Or she’ll take it on the chin and carry on being a monkey. ‘Parenting, eh? Who said it was easy?’
‘You got kids, Doctor?’
Cherie had been four months pregnant when she died. ‘No.’ The word spat out, so he added with more restraint, ‘Not yet.’ Never. Unless... Unless he could talk about the past, undo those crippling fears enough to let the sun shine in—as in Kelli sunshine.
Right that moment Kelli walked past, helping her next patient, an elderly man with what appeared to be severe arthritis in his leg. She did not acknowledge him. Had been distant in the room with Izzie. Had been distant ever since leaving his office an hour ago.
Hopefully she’d find him a smile before the end of the week or it was going to be a long, awkward weekend on Waiheke Island. It was already a long, awkward shift.
Bring on eleven p.m.
* * *
That time did eventually tick over. Monday’s were never frantic but this one seemed quieter than usual. In other ways Mac’s mind was constantly on alert, Kelli alert. Her laughter, her voice, scent, the way the air cracked like an approaching storm. For eight hours he’d been put through the wringer, his body tense and filled with need. Immediately after completing handover he grabbed his bag and headed to the staff gym in the hospital basement. A hard workout would fix what ailed him.
In shorts and sleeveless sports top Mac strode into the workout room and slammed to a halt. He wasn’t alone. Nothing new in that. But never before had Kelli Barnett been here at the same time. Then again, she worked night shift now. He hadn’t known she worked out. Memories of firm muscles and a flat abdomen, a stunning figure accentuated by that dress, waved at him, reminding him of how his groin had tightened. Was tightening now. Went to show he hadn’t really thought about it.
As he watched those long legs running on the treadmill his heart rate was increasing exponentially. Endless legs wound around his waist as they—Gulp. Out of here, now. She hadn’t seen him. He’d be gone before that changed. No way was he working out in the same room as Kelli.
‘Hey, Mac, how’s things?’
Spinning around, he came face to face with the surgeon who’d operated on young Izzie. ‘Andrew, haven’t seen you in here for a while.’ And I’m not about to, considering I’m on my way out.
The pounding of feet on that treadmill was increasing in speed and noise. If Kelli was working up to a top speed she wouldn’t be looking around the gym to see who else was here. He might still get away.
‘Want to lift some weights?’ Andrew asked.
‘Not tonight.’ He stepped aside, intent on leaving, but couldn’t resist glancing across to the treadmills.
Caught. Kelli was holding onto the handlebar with one hand and staring at him as though she was oblivious to what her legs were doing. Her face a picture of surprise and—and annoyance? Either way, she definitely wasn’t happy to see him.
She stumbled. Grabbed at the bar with her free hand, tried to get back to the measured, fast steps required to keep up with the machine’s set speed. She kept tripping, as if she couldn’t quite get it right.
Mac was already halfway to her. ‘Hit the slow button,’ he called as worry thickened his throat. Fall and chances were she’d twist an ankle or sprain a wrist.
The treadmill stopped. Instantly. Kelli lurched forward, banging into the control panel.
‘The slow button, not the off one.’ But he was too late telling her that.
Kelli remained upright, her breasts rising and falling fast, her hands at her sides. But man, could she curse.
Mac stopped beside the treadmill and watched her, his worry backing off, replaced with silent laughter as she gave herself a right lecture. ‘Come on. You’re not that bad,’ he intervened at last.
Then she removed earplugs and glanced at him. ‘Did you say something?’
‘Nothing as potent as that diatribe I just heard.’
Heat seared her cheeks, turning them a sharp shade of crimson. ‘Ouch. Did anyone else hear me?’
‘I doubt it. You’re a quiet banshee.’
‘I’m stupid, is what I am. Losing focus and nearly falling flat on my backside. I can see the photos now. All dressed up for the wedding and sporting bruises up and down my thighs.’
That brought up a mental picture Mac couldn’t contain. His gaze dropped to her thighs. Under Lycra they were toned, smooth, mouth-watering. The skin he could see was tanned, probably the result of time spent in the tropical sun. Then he heard the rest of her sentence. ‘Is your dress very short?’
‘It’s ankle length.’ Kelli looked away. ‘With splits up both sides.’
‘How high do these splits go?’ He wasn’t going to survive if they reached higher than her shins.
‘Umm, to the top of my thighs.’ She still didn’t look at him.
‘Oh, man.’ Survival was out. His heart was already practising speed-dialling and another part of his anatomy was doing a sit-up. ‘I see.’ Unfortunately he could. His imagination was particularly overactive tonight. Pumping a few weights wouldn’t have helped at all. He’d probably pull a muscle. Don’t go there, his mind shouted.
‘You getting on a treadmill?’ his tormentor asked.
‘I’ll hit the rowing machine first.’ Instantly he wanted to snatch the words back. What was wrong with one of the cycle machines? They weren’t directly in front of the treadmills.
‘Right,’ Kelli muttered and punched some buttons to start the conveyor beneath her feet moving. ‘Right,’ a little louder as she slipped her earplugs back in place, pressed the gradient mode and began pounding uphill.
CHAPTER THREE
KELLI RAN UP and down hills on the same spot until the distance monitor came up with five kilometres.
Mac was still in front of her, sweat pouring off him as he worked those pecs and shoulder muscles, rowing his heart out.
While her heart was racing with exertion, and disconcerting need for the man in front of her.
She ran another two kilometres. Her legs might be getting tired, but her brain was still tripping around fast as though it had received a sugar bomb. Not lust, or desire, or anything to do with Mac. Couldn’t be. Those emotions were on lockdown, afraid to surface in case she got sucked in and her heart torn out again when she was only just getting it back in shape after the last time. Now that they were spending the weekend together she had to be more vigilant about keeping hot thoughts about him under wraps. She couldn’t have him looking at her and reading her emotions and needs. Nor could she deal with him kissing her senseless then turning away. Not a second time.
Did she mention desire? Hot and expanding throughout her weary body, her sluggish muscles; livening her up, not preparing her for sleep when she got home.
Time to stop the machine. Nothing was going to shut her brain up. Not in here anyway. Not with Mac wearing the sleeveless top that showed sweat-slicked, tanned skin, and muscles that reminded her how hard that body had felt under her palms.
Slowing the treadmill at a sensible pace this time, Kelli dragged in lungfuls of air and gave up trying to ignore the beautiful sight before her. Mightn’t get another opportunity.
Those broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist and flat belly made for a perfect package. That night dancing in Sydney he’d made her feel small and dainty. Enough so she’d let her hair down and enjoyed being with Mac on the dance floor, letting loose in a way that had made her briefly forget all her insecurities about her size.
‘You going to stand there all night? Or are you going to do some more exercise?’ Mac called over his glistening shoulder.
‘You got eyes in the back of that shaggy head?’ His thick, dark blond hair had lost all semblance of the usual clean-cut style, instead stuck to his scalp with small curls appearing at the edges. Cute. As in man cute, not baby cute.
‘Something like that.’ The rowing machine was slowing, Mac relaxing and letting his arms drop. When he stood up he scrubbed his face with his hand towel. ‘I’m starving. Feel like hitting The Grafton All-Nighter for something to eat?’
Kelli would’ve said no, she didn’t need food; but her stomach had other ideas, announcing with a loud rumble that some grub was the best idea all night. She bit back a curse. Already she doubted she’d get any sleep tonight, and spending the next hour with him would cancel tomorrow night’s quota of zeds as well. ‘Thanks, but I’ll head home and see what’s in the fridge.’ Yoghurt, tomatoes, lettuce, a cucumber and a loaf of bread. Yesterday’s shopping hadn’t been extravagant or expansive.
‘You want to avoid me?’ Mac asked softly.
‘Yes.’
‘When I’m officially your partner for the weekend?’ he added in that soft voice that lifted bumps on her skin.
‘Isn’t that enough?’
A spark of hurt flicked across his face.
Got that wrong, hadn’t she? ‘I thought it’d be enough with you meeting me on Friday and going from there. I didn’t want to take up any more of your time than I’m already doing.’ He hadn’t exactly rushed to welcome her when she’d turned up for work that afternoon after a six-week absence, so he wasn’t likely to want to hang with her much now. Yet he had volunteered for the weekend. Nothing made sense when it came to her and Mac.
His hurt remained. Who’d have known he was so sensitive? Not her. Which only added to the guilt starting to crowd her mind.
‘I need to be brought up to speed on a few things,’ he admonished, still softly, but there was no denying the grit behind his words. ‘I can’t put my foot in it when it comes to your family. They’ll expect me to know something about them. Then there’s the other guy.’
Fair enough. ‘Five minutes for a shower?’
‘You sure you’re female?’ Mac started to smile, then stopped. ‘See you shortly.’ He was off, striding across the room, putting distance between them quick fast.
Sharing a meal at The Grafton All-Nighter was going to be a load of fun.
* * *
‘I’ve got Friday off,’ Mac told Kelli after they’d placed orders for bacon and eggs, and lots of tea.
‘That was quick.’ Keen? Nah, determined, more like. He was known for his take-no-prisoners approach to getting things done.
‘It comes with having done many favours over the past year.’ He sculled some water. ‘What time do you intend catching the ferry to Waiheke on Friday?’
‘How about four-thirty at the heliport downtown?’
His eyes widened, but all he said was, ‘Fine.’
Kelli felt driven to explain. ‘It’s my dad’s way. Ever since he became successful and the business grew so huge he’s enjoyed sharing it round, feels he owes it to those who knew and helped him back in the dirt-poor days.’ Her father was kind, generous to a fault, not a show-off.
‘What’s he in?’
‘Civil engineering.’
‘With the growth going on in Auckland I can see how he’s done well.’
‘The harder he worked, the luckier he became,’ Kelli quipped, but couldn’t deny her pride. ‘My brothers, all three of them, work in the business. An engineer, a lawyer and an accountant slash business consultant.’
‘You stepped outside the square.’ Something passed through that intense gaze, something she couldn’t name. Admiration? For her? Not likely. Probably a question about why she hadn’t gone into the family business that he was coming up with a load of incorrect answers to.
‘After growing up hearing about the company day in, day out, I wanted something different, something that was about me. Choosing a career where I could help people, make them feel better, was it.’
‘We’re on the same page there. Primarily I did medicine to help others. Plus being good at science and maths made it a no-brainer.’ Mac leaned back in his chair, stretched those long legs to the side of the small table. ‘Why is helping others so important to you?’
Eek. This was getting serious. Trying for nonchalance, she told him, ‘I can’t explain it. It’s just who I am.’ There was truth in that, possibly brought about from the hurt she’d dealt with, hurt she hoped others didn’t suffer. ‘I could ask the same of you.’
‘I hate seeing people in pain.’ Short, snappy words, with a dirty great stop sign behind them. Followed by, ‘Which brother is getting married?’
Back on track, off taboo terrain. ‘Billy, the engineer. His fiancé, Leanne, works in the accounts department of the firm. My other brothers are married and their wives also work there. I’m definitely the odd one out.’
‘That bother you?’ His mouth did that delectable lift at the corner, and naturally her stomach got all hot and stroppy. Nothing compared to how the rest of her body was reacting.
‘It’s nothing new. When I was twelve I was sent to a private school where many of the wealthy send their kids. I didn’t fit in. Dad hadn’t quite made the big league then but he wanted me to have the best. I was smart, but not filthy rich. Some of the girls were horrid to me.’ Understatement. ‘So I stopped going to school, hid out at the mall or the library.’
‘Tell me more.’
She’d not be mentioning that they called her ‘elephant’. ‘When my parents found out I demanded to be sent to a public school, and not the one down the road from the private school but the one in another suburb where the chances of running into any of those awful girls were remote.’
‘You got your way.’ He wasn’t asking.
‘I was desperate. When they backed me I became determined to prove they’d made the right choice. In some ways it was harder to get ahead in the lower decile school, in others downright easy because no one wanted to knock me down all the time.’ Because on day one I arrived with a friendly smile and a willingness to fit in by keeping others happy. Three strapping brothers at my back didn’t go astray either.
‘You were bullied at that private school?’ His mouth tightened even before she answered.
‘All the time by a roving pack of brainless bitches.’ She was surprised by the strength of emotion overwhelming her as she remembered being taunted constantly, punished for things that happened, even when she hadn’t been there. ‘But I’ve moved on, grown a backbone, and become the person I want to be.’ Would he believe that little white lie? Because it was a work in progress. She’d thought she’d got past those girls until Steve had undermined her confidence, resurrected her flaws. Now she knew from the bottom of her battered heart there’d be no leaping into commitment until she trusted herself to be true to Kelli, no matter what any man threw at her.
‘I imagine you always had a backbone.’
‘You do? Thanks.’ File that one with the good stuff that came her way. Not that it was strictly correct.
The waitress arrived with their meals and cutlery, banging the plates down and shifting water glasses too hard so the contents slopped on the table.
When she’d wiped up and gone Mac asked, ‘So who’s the man you’re avoiding by taking me to the wedding?’
‘Jason Alexander. A lawyer. A friend of my brothers’ from years back.’
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘Nothing really. He’s friendly, kind, hard-working, caring. Fits in with my lot all too easily.’
Mac’s eyes narrowed. ‘What aren’t you telling me?’
‘He’s too nice.’
‘In other words, boring?’
‘He doesn’t tickle my keys.’ Eek. Just the thought of Jason tickling any part of her turned her cold. ‘My mother thinks he’d be right for me—you know, as in settle-down-with-him right.’ She shuddered. ‘I’m being unfair. He really is a great guy, but he doesn’t do it for me.’
‘How come your parents don’t accept that?’
Because her ex had been cruel, selfish, and devastating in a nasty way. And because she’d been blind to his faults until he’d cut her down so painfully. ‘Sometimes they’re overprotective. I’m twenty-eight, but being the daughter after three sons comes with complications.’
‘Am I going to be seen as the intruder?’ There. A wee smile.
Might be wee, but it was powerful, switching on all her hot spots. ‘Absolutely. You’ll be quizzed on your intentions, asked about your favourite sport and car, and my brothers will challenge you to anything they can find, tiddlywinks if that’s all there is.’ Suddenly this was fun. As if Mac and she were good together. Steady. Getting ahead of herself. ‘You’re still on?’
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