One Winter's Sunrise: Gift-Wrapped in Her Wedding Dress

She pulled her thoughts back to the present. ‘Good idea,’ she said. ‘Excellent idea, in fact.’

Dominic rolled his eyes in response.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘You weren’t serious. I... I was.’

‘No, you’re right. I guess there’s no room for spontaneity in a fake engagement.’ It was a wonder he could get the words out when his tongue was so firmly in his cheek. ‘A question-and-answer session it is. At a time to be determined.’

‘Good idea,’ she said, feeling disconcerted. Was all this just a game to him?

‘Are there any more conditions to come?’ he asked. ‘You’re all out of fingers on one hand, by the way.’

‘There is one more very important condition to come—and may I remind you I do have ten fingers—but first I want to hear if there’s anything you want to add.’

She actually had two more conditions, but the final condition she could not share with him: that she could not fall for him. She couldn’t deal with the fallout in terms of pain if she were foolish enough to let down the guard on her heart.

* * *

Andie’s beautiful green eyes had sparkled with good humour in spite of the awkward position he had put her into. Coerced her into. But now her eyes seemed to dim and Dominic wondered if she was being completely honest about being an ‘open book’.

Ironically, he already knew more about Andie, the fake fiancée, than he’d known about Tara when he’d got engaged to her for real. His ex-wife had kept her true nature under wraps until well after she’d got the wedding band on her finger. What you see is what you get. He so wanted to believe that about Andie.

‘My condition? You have to wear a ring,’ he said. ‘I want to get you an engagement ring straight away. Today. Once Tara sees that she’ll know it’s serious. And the press will too. Not to mention a symbol for when we meet with Walter Burton.’

She shrugged. ‘Okay, you get me a ring.’

‘You don’t want to choose it yourself?’ He was taken aback. Tara had been so avaricious about jewellery.

‘No. I would find it...sad. Distressing. The day I choose my engagement ring is the day I get engaged for real. To me, the ring should be a symbol of a true commitment, not a...a prop for a charade. But I agree—I should wear one as a visible sign of commitment.’

‘I’ll organise it then,’ he said. He had no idea why he should be disappointed at her lack of enthusiasm. She was absolutely right—the ring would be a prop. But it would also play a role in keeping it believable. ‘What size ring do you wear?’

‘I haven’t a clue,’ she said. She held up her right hand to show the collection of tiny fine silver rings on her slender fingers. Her nails were painted cream today. ‘I bought these at a market and just tried them on until I found rings that fitted.’ She slid off the ring from the third finger of her right hand. ‘This should do the trick.’ She handed it to him. It was still warm with her body heat and he held it on his palm for a moment before pocketing it.

‘What style of engagement ring would you like?’ he asked.

Again she shrugged. ‘You choose. It’s honestly not important to me.’

A hefty carat solitaire diamond would be appropriate—one that would give her a good resale value when she went to sell it after this was all over.

‘Did you choose your ex-wife’s engagement ring?’ Andie asked.

He scowled at the reminder that he had once got engaged for real.

Andie pulled one of her endearing faces. ‘Sorry. I guess that’s a sensitive issue. I know we’ll come to all that in our question-and-answer session. I’m just curious.’

‘She chose it herself. All I had to do was pay for it.’ That alone should have alerted him to what the marriage was all about—giving her access to his money and the lifestyle it bought.

‘That wasn’t very...romantic,’ Andie said.

‘There was nothing romantic about my marriage. Shall I tell you about it now and get all that out of the way?’

‘If you feel comfortable with it,’ she said.

‘Comfortable is never a word I would relate to that time of my life,’ he said. ‘It was a series of mistakes.’

‘If you’re ready to tell me, I’m ready to listen.’ He thought about how Andie had read his mood so accurately earlier this morning—giving him breakfast when he hadn’t even been aware himself that he was hungry. She was thoughtful. And kind. Kindness wasn’t an attribute he had much encountered in the women he had met.

‘The first mistake I made with Tara was that she reminded me of someone else—a girl I’d met when I was living in the squat. Someone frail and sweet with similar colouring—someone I’d wanted to care for and look after.’ It still hurt to think of Melody. Andie didn’t need to know about her.

‘And the second mistake?’ Andie asked, seeming to understand he didn’t want to speak further about Melody. She leaned forward as if she didn’t want to miss a word.

‘I believed her when she said she wanted children.’

‘You wanted children?’

‘As soon as possible. Tara said she did too.’

Andie frowned. ‘But she didn’t?’

Even now, bitterness rose in his throat. ‘After we’d been married a year and nothing had happened, I suggested we see a doctor. Tara put it off and put it off. I thought it was because she didn’t want to admit to failure. It was quite by accident that I discovered all the time I thought we’d been trying to conceive, she’d been on the contraceptive pill.’

Andie screwed up her face in an expression of disbelief and distaste. ‘That’s unbelievable.’

‘When I confronted her, she laughed.’ He relived the horror of discovering his ex-wife’s treachery and the realisation she didn’t have it in her to love. Not him. Certainly not a child. Fortunately, she hadn’t been clever enough to understand the sub-clauses in the pre-nuptial agreement and divorce had been relatively straightforward.

‘You had a lucky escape,’ Andie said.

‘That’s why I never want to marry again. How could I ever trust another woman after that?’

‘I understand you would feel that way,’ she said. ‘But not every woman would be like her. Me...my sisters, my friends. I don’t know anyone who would behave with such dishonesty. Don’t write off all women because of one.’

Trouble was, his wealth attracted women like Tara.

He was about to try and explain that to Andie when her phone started to sound out a bar of classical music.

She got up from the sofa and headed for the kitchen countertop to pick it up. ‘Gemma,’ she mouthed to him. ‘I’d better take it.’

He nodded, grateful for the reprieve. Tara’s treachery had got him into this fake engagement scenario with Andie, who was being such a good sport about the whole thing. He did not want to waste another word, or indeed thought, on his ex. Again, he thanked whatever providence had sent Andie into his life—Andie who was the opposite of Tara in every way.

He couldn’t help but overhear Andie as she chatted to Gemma. ‘Yes, yes, I saw it. We were having lunch after the meeting that Friday. Yes, it does look romantic. No, I didn’t know anyone took a photo.’

Andie waved him over to her. ‘Shall I tell her?’ she mouthed.

He gave her the thumbs-up. ‘Yes,’ he mouthed back as he got up. There was no intention of keeping this ‘engagement’ secret. He walked over closer to Andie, who was standing there in bare feet, looking more beautiful in jeans than any other woman would look in a ball gown.

‘Actually, Gemma, I...haven’t been completely honest with you. I...uh...we...well, Dominic and I hit it off from the moment we first saw each other.’

Andie looked to Dominic and he nodded—she was doing well.