Bought: His Temporary Fiancée

“No, please, you misunderstand me.” She sobered instantly, the moment of hysteria passed even though traces of moisture still lingered in the corners of her eyes. “You don’t know me or you wouldn’t ever have suggested we could fake our engagement. I don’t go out, I …”

Her hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Yes, you … ?”

She threw her hands up, gesturing to herself. “Well, look at me. I’m hardly the kind of woman you’d go out with under normal circumstances, am I? I don’t move in your circles, I’m … I’m me.” She shrugged her shoulders dramatically, as if that was sufficient explanation for everything.

“Do you want to see who I see when I look at you, Margaret?”

He kept his voice steady and pitched low. Her nervous movements stilled at his tone and he saw her brace herself, physically and mentally, for whatever it was that he had to say.

“I see a woman who hides her true self from the world. Someone who has a deep inner beauty to match the exterior. Someone who would go so far as to sacrifice her own happiness for that of a loved one. I see a woman who doesn’t realize the extent of her own potential, at work or in play. And I see a woman I am very much looking forward to getting to know, intimately.”

The flush that spread up her throat and across her cheeks was as intriguing as it was enticing. Was she really so innocent that she blushed at his suggestion? She hadn’t thought this fake engagement was going to be purely for appearances, did she? There had to be fringe benefits—for them both.

“So you’re going to force me to have sex with you, too, are you?” she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

“Oh, no,” William replied. “I won’t have to force you at all.”

Margaret was still shaking when she made it to her car in the back row of the staff car park. She shoved her key in the door and gave it the customary wiggle she needed to do before turning it and opening the door. She clambered inside and put her key in the ignition. Since her car had been stolen a year ago, both the door lock and the new ignition barrel hadn’t been quite in sync with the key. She’d been lucky that when the car was recovered a few miles from home that it was still drivable. One of Jason’s friends, an auto mechanic, had done the minor repair work for her at cost. It hadn’t been the same since then, though. One day it would let her down, but hopefully not any day too soon.

She rested her head on the steering wheel. It wasn’t the only thing that wasn’t the same anymore. How could she look at Jason now without worrying about whether he was getting himself into trouble again? No matter what William Tanner had dictated, she would tell Jason the truth about their arrangement. Provided he agreed to be sworn to secrecy, that is.

Maggie wasn’t looking forward to what kind of state he’d be in when he got home after the disciplinary panel today, but she knew he wouldn’t be happy with her “engagement.” With a sigh, she straightened in her seat, started up the car and headed for home. She might find some answers there, or at least some solace in being surrounded by their parents’ things.

Grief lanced through her with a sharp, searing pain. Ten years since the accident that had taken both their lives and it still hurt as much as it had when the police had come to the door to give them the news. Where would they be now, she wondered, if her parents hadn’t died that day?

She shook her head. There was no point in dwelling on the past. The present, that was what mattered. Making every day count. Meeting the obligations she’d shouldered when she’d made the decision to forgo college and focus on raising Jason alone. At eighteen to his fourteen it had been a monumental decision—one she’d frequently questioned as she’d faced each new trial. But the Cole family had never been quitters. They stuck to their own, through thick and thin. No matter the cost.

By the time Jason arrived home, an hour later than usual, her nerves were tied in knots. The sound of his key being shoved in the front door, followed by the heavy slam as it closed, did not augur well for a rational discussion.

“Are you okay?” she asked as he came through to the kitchen where she was reheating last night’s Bolognese sauce and meatballs.

“It’s un-freaking-believable,” he said. “I’ve been accused of stealing, but not quite enough that they’re going to take my job from me. I’m on some kind of big-brother probation.”

“I know,” she said, struggling to keep her voice calm.

“You know? And you didn’t think to tell me? Give me any prior warning?”

His voice was filled with confusion and accusation. Inside, her heart began to break.

“I couldn’t. I was only told of it right before your meeting with the disciplinary panel.”

Jason dragged his cell phone from his pocket and waved it in her face. “Hello? You could have texted me.”

“I didn’t have a chance. Seriously, you have to believe me. I would have, if I could.”

He dropped into one of the bentwood kitchen chairs, the old wooden frame creaking in protest as he threw his weight against the back of the seat and shoved a hand through his dark hair. Unbidden, tears sprang to Maggie’s eyes. Times like this he reminded her so much of photos of their father when he was younger. All that intelligence, energy and passion. All so easily misdirected.

She dropped down on her haunches beside him.

“Tell me. What did they say?”

He looked up at the ceiling and swore softly under his breath. “You know what they said. They’re accusing me of taking money, but they don’t have absolute proof it was me. Anyone could have made that trail go in someone else’s direction. I’ve been framed. I wouldn’t do something like that.”

Her stomach knotted at the almost childlike plea in his voice. A plea that she, above all others, would believe him.

“Did you, Jason? Did you do it?”

He thrust himself up onto his feet. “I can’t believe you can even ask me that. I promised you I’d be clean after that last time and I have been.”

“Mr. Tanner showed me the evidence, Jason. He said everything pointed to you.”

She felt as if she was drowning. She wanted to believe Jason, really she did. But William Tanner had been very convincing. So convincing she’d agreed to participate in his charade to save Jason’s job.

“So you’d rather believe him than me? Is that it? Are you still so goo-goo eyed after that one kiss at the ball that you don’t want to believe your own brother?”

“Jason, that’s uncalled for,” she replied sharply, but she felt the betraying flush stain her cheeks.

Her brother had teased her mercilessly about the kiss he’d witnessed at the ball, until he’d learned exactly who it was she’d been kissing. William Tanner was a man to be feared. No one knew exactly what his recommendation would be for the now defunct Worth Industries, and the rumors that the business could be wound down here in Vista del Mar had buzzed around the staff like a swarm of angry bees.

“I don’t believe it,” he said, staring at her as if she’d grown two heads. “Even though he’s accused me of being dishonest, you still have the hots for him, don’t you?”

“This isn’t about me.” She tried desperately to get the conversation back on topic. “This is about you. I asked you, plain and simple, Jason. Did you do it?”

“It doesn’t matter what I say now,” he said bleakly. “You’re never going to believe me, are you? I’ll never be good enough, never be able to prove to you that I’m trustworthy again. Don’t wait up for me, I’m going out.”

“Jason, don’t go. Please!”

But his only response was the slam of the front door behind him, swiftly followed by the roar of his motorbike as he peeled out of the driveway. Margaret raised a trembling hand to her eyes and wiped at the tears that fell unchecked down her cheeks.

If Jason was guilty of what Tanner had accused him, then she would continue to do every last thing in her power to protect him, just as she always had. But if he was innocent, what on earth had she let herself in for?

Three

Maggie was beyond worried by the time morning came. Jason hadn’t been home all night. Around four she’d given up trying to sleep and had done what she always did in times of stress—clean. By the time seven-thirty rolled around, the bathroom sparkled, the kitchen bench gleamed and every wooden surface in the house shone with the glow of the special lemon-scented polish their mother had always used.

The scents were in their own way a little comfort, Maggie thought, as she finally peeled off her gloves and wearily went into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. She could almost feel her mother’s soothing presence in the background.

The growl of Jason’s bike as he pulled into the driveway had her flying to the door. She yanked it open, then froze in the doorway. Uncertain of whether or not he would welcome her relief at seeing him home safe and sound.

He came to the door slowly, his face haggard and showing a wisdom beyond his years.

“I’m sorry, Maggie,” he said, pulling her into his arms and hugging her tight. “I was so mad I just had to put some space between me and here, y’know?”

She nodded, unable to speak past the knot in her throat. He was home. That was all that mattered for now. She led him inside, pushed him into one of the kitchen chairs and set about making breakfast. As she broke eggs into the pan he started to talk.

“At least I still have my job.”