Romance for Cynics (4 page)

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Authors: Nicola Marsh

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Romance for Cynics
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Lucy nodded, saddened by the secrets Pops must’ve kept from those he loved. ‘Good idea.’

Gram sat at the table and licked her lips. ‘Okay. This is your second visit in one day and you bring pizza. What’s going on?’

Lucy slipped an arm around Gram’s shoulders and squeezed. ‘Never could fool you.’

Gram’s eyes twinkled as Lucy took a seat. ‘My girl, you forget that I was your age, once—and I tried every trick in the book.’

‘I’m not sure you will have tried my latest trick, Gram.’ Lucy toyed with the cheese oozing over the crust of her pizza. ‘You know that plan I mentioned to secure the fifty grand? It’s all set.’

Gram’s mouth dropped open before it closed with an audible snap. ‘I hoped...I mean, I thought you were dreaming...how—?’

‘One of my clients wants a complete redesign of his garden. The quote is about fifty thousand.’

Gram’s eyes widened in horror. ‘I can’t take that much of your hard-earned money off you. It wouldn’t be right.’

Lucy should have known this wouldn’t be easy. ‘Gram, you raised me. I owe you everything and this is the least I can do to repay you.’

‘Family don’t need repaying.’ Her lips set in a mutinous line. ‘I won’t take it.’

‘So you’d rather move out? Live in a one-room rented bedsit somewhere?’

Gram glanced away but not before Lucy had glimpsed fear. ‘If that’s what it takes. Your grandfather caused this problem, not you, and I won’t have you paying for his sins.’

Lucy admired Gram’s pride. In fact, she empathised. She hadn’t wanted anything to do with Adrian once she’d discovered his lies and pride had prevented her from taking the generous settlement he’d offered.

Pops had called her foolish at the time but Gram had been quick to silence him, telling him to mind his own business. No, she couldn’t fault Gram for not wanting to take such a hefty sum of money. But it meant Lucy would have to embellish her offer to make it more appealing: namely, appeal to Gram’s romantic side.

‘That garden I’m doing? It’s in exchange for accompanying the client to a few functions.’

Predictably, Gram perked up and lost her stubborn pout. ‘What functions? And who’s this client?’

‘Cashel Burgess.’

A small dent appeared between Gram’s brows. ‘Why does his name sound familiar?’

‘He’s in the papers a fair bit.’ Understatement, considering the number of times his handsome face graced the society pages. The way he put it, his socialising was purely work, but she wondered how many times he’d blurred the lines between personal and professional with his clients.

Not that it was any of her business, but the thought of his many dalliances made her stomach churn and she nudged away the plate of pizza.

‘He’s a financial advisor to the stars.’

Gram fixed her with a steely glare. ‘Doesn’t sound like your type.’

‘He’s not, but he’s a nice enough guy, he asked for my help and I agreed.’

‘On the proviso you get fifty thousand dollars for making over his garden.’ Gram shook her head. ‘What am I missing here? Sounds to me like the guy’s desperate or crazy or both, offering to pay you to attend a few functions.’

Lucy should’ve known Gram wouldn’t give up easily. The last thing she needed was Gram getting ideas about her fake relationship with Cash, but looked as if she’d have to tell her the rest.

‘He’s not desperate.’ Lucy slid her electronic tablet out of her bag and plugged Cash’s name into a search engine. ‘Take a look at the guy.’

She flipped the screen towards Gram, who clutched at her heart. ‘Oh my Lordy, the man’s swoon-worthy.’

Lucy laughed. Not many men made Gram’s swoon-worthy cut. Over the years, the limited list included Frank Sinatra, Rock Hudson, Elvis and more recently George Clooney. High praise indeed for her pretend boyfriend.

‘He looks like that handsome young man in
The Notebook
.’ Gram stared at her with renewed interest. ‘Not every day my granddaughter gets to parade around with a Ryan Gosling lookalike.’

Lucy stared at the picture of Cash on the screen, tilting her head to one side, and had to admit Gram was right.

Ryan was excessively cute and they’d both cried buckets during that movie. Five times.

Great, now every time she had to look at Cash she’d be imagining Ryan and those sexy scenes...best not go there.

‘You know, maybe this isn’t such a bad idea after all.’ Gram’s gaze strayed from the screen long enough for Lucy to see that familiar calculated, matchmaking gleam. ‘Going out with a young man of that calibre can only be good.’

‘This is a business arrangement, Gram, nothing more.’

Predictably, Gram ignored her warning tone and continued. ‘I know there’s a lot more to this than you’re telling me, missie, but you’ve got a good heart and a smart head on your shoulders. I trust your judgement.’

‘Does this mean you’ll take the money?’

‘We’ll see,’ Gram muttered, her brusqueness tempered by a warm smile, and Lucy took it as a win. ‘Now, let’s eat.’

Lucy was only too happy to comply, but as she bit into the gooey cheese she wondered how smart her judgement had been when she’d let Cash kiss her earlier that day.

And enjoyed it.

FOUR

Lucy didn’t like
feeling powerless. She’d felt it once before, around the time Adrian dumped a whole heap of whoop-ass on her head in the form of a divorce. She’d done everything humanly possible in the ensuing years to ensure she never felt that way again.

But following Cash’s impulsive kiss yesterday morning, that was exactly how she’d felt. Powerless. Out of her depth.

He’d done it to rattle her probably. Or just because he could. Guys like him were used to kissing women every day of the week. A power play? An ego trip? Whatever the reason, she didn’t want to bring it up again by asking him.

But she did have to reassert control and that meant putting him on the back foot this time.

She’d assumed meeting him for dinner in a pokey, no-frills Indian restaurant in the heart of Melbourne’s busy CBD would do just that.

She’d been wrong.

From the moment he’d strutted into the place wearing faded denim and a navy polo top, she’d been fidgety and edgy and altogether too flustered.

The guy looked incredible.

She’d never seen him in anything other than slick suits. She preferred him that way: hands-off. The kind of guy she’d never go for again.

But this new, improved version of Cash, his fingers stained orange from eating chicken tikka with his hands, sweat beading his brow from the fiery prawn vindaloo and the constant appreciative moans after every mouthful?

Way too appealing. And ruining her plans to rattle him good and proper.

‘How did you find this place?’ He dipped a piece of naan bread into a golden dahl before popping it into his mouth, his rapturous expression making her increasingly uncomfortable.

Could he look any more...
orgasmic
? Damn.

‘Stumbled on it a lifetime ago, been coming here ever since,’ she said, ladling more lamb korma on her plate in an effort to keep her hands busy and her mind firmly on the meal. ‘The quality of the food more than makes up for the lack in décor.’

‘I don’t give a flying fig how a place looks if the food tastes this good.’ He scooped up a healthy serve of aloo gobi and spooned it into his mouth to prove it.

‘Aren’t you just full of surprises?’ she said under her breath, not sure whether to laugh or cry at this turn of events.

Pretending to be Cash’s girlfriend would’ve been easier when she didn’t like the guy. Seeing this relaxed, easy to conform side of him? Not good for her peace of mind.

She didn’t want to like him.

Not with the memory of that kiss on constant replay in her head.

‘Go on, admit it.’ He swiped at his mouth with a serviette. ‘You’ve misjudged me.’

Great. Not only was the guy easy-going and gorgeous, he was astute too.

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She crossed her fingers under the table for telling the little white lie.

‘Yeah, you do,’ he said, impossibly smug as he leaned back in his chair and studied her with an intensity that burned hotter than the curries she’d eaten. ‘Because of all that beat-up crap in the media, you thought I’m used to dining in five-star restaurants and I’d hate a place like this.’

Lucy added intelligent to his growing list of attributes. Double damn.

She chose her response carefully, not wanting to give away too much. ‘Not an entirely ludicrous assumption, considering you’re in the papers every week attending some fancy shindig with a famous woman on your arm.’

‘You’ve kept tabs on me?’ His conceited grin infuriated her. ‘Why, Lucy, I didn’t know you cared.’

‘I don’t,’ she snapped, instantly regretting her terse answer when his grin widened. ‘It’s called Googling and being prepared, considering I’ll be your girlfriend for the next week.’

‘So you plugged me into a search engine to check me out. Even better.’ He winked. ‘Discover anything interesting?’

‘Only that you have too much time on your hands by the number of flashy functions you attend.’

And that he had a thing for vacuous blondes. She decided to keep that particular insight to herself.

‘Networking is a huge part of my job,’ he said, his grin fading as he reached for a water. ‘I get most of my clients by word of mouth.’

‘So why should the ramblings of one woman threaten to derail a reputation you’ve built over the years?’

His eyes widened in appreciation. ‘You have done your homework.’

He gulped the water and set the glass on the table. ‘Unfortunately, the referral network my business thrives on is pretty fragile. Stars in the TV industry can be fickle and gossip is easily spread. All it takes is one false rumour and...’

He shook his head. ‘I won’t let that happen. I’ve worked too damn hard to build up my business to let it be ruined by a vindictive woman.’

His honesty impressed her. ‘So what happened to make this woman so intent on revenge? Did you break her heart?’

‘Didn’t get that close.’ He screwed up his face in disgust. ‘She wanted more than one date, I didn’t, and she didn’t take the knock-back kindly. Next thing I know she’s threatening all sorts of bizarre scenarios. I got the impression she’s desperate for publicity for her fledgling career and others I’ve spoken to aren’t impressed by her antics off screen in general.’

‘That’s sad.’

‘Don’t feel sorry for her. I’m the one she can ruin with her craziness.’

Lucy leaned forward and patted his hand. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll be the epitome of a sane girlfriend to counteract your loony ex.’

‘She’s not my ex—’

‘Kidding.’ Lucy tried to move her hand away but not fast enough, as Cash turned his over and captured hers.

‘It’s kinda nice having you want to protect me.’ His thumb brushed her pulse point and she almost leaped off her chair. ‘Something tells me we’re going to be very good together.’

For one insane moment, with Cash holding her hand and staring at her with blatant interest, she could almost believe him.

‘And something tells me if we don’t get our stories straight your reputation isn’t the only one about to flush down the toilet.’ She withdrew her hand. It did little for the residual tingle in her palm. ‘So what’s the spin we put on our faux romance?’

‘We stick to the truth as much as possible,’ he said, looking way too comfortable for a guy about to perpetuate a big, fat lie, while she all but squirmed at the thought of being filmed for some hokey Valentine’s Day fundraiser. ‘We met six months ago through a mutual friend but haven’t started dating ’til recently.’

‘And the fact you’ve kept me hidden away while parading around town with your usual arm candy?’

‘You sound jealous.’ He smirked.

‘I’d have to care first,’ she said, shooting him a sickly sweet smile.

‘I’m a man who likes to keep his personal and professional lives separate, so that’s why we haven’t gone public yet. Those other women? Business.’

‘More like monkey business,’ she muttered, earning another wink for her trouble. ‘Tell me more about these functions we have to attend.’

‘We’re being briefed tomorrow apparently. All I know is we attend a picnic, an eighties-inspired disco and a roller-skating event, before the ball on Valentine’s Day.’

Lucy pretended to stick two fingers down her throat and gag.

He grimaced. ‘Yeah, sounds like a pain in the ass.’

‘The things we do for love, huh?’ She batted her eyelashes and he laughed, the lines crinkling the corners of his eyes adding depth to his face.

‘Want to know what I think?’ He leaned forward.

‘Do I have a choice?’

‘Keep doing that.’ He jabbed a finger in her direction. ‘If we can keep doing this trading quips thing when the cameras are around, they’ll think we’re a real couple for sure.’

‘True,’ she said, remembering the many times Gram and Pops would bicker over the smallest thing. Other couples she’d seen over the years too. That should’ve been her first indication something was wrong with her marriage: the fact that Adrian was far too civilised and they never fought. No relationship was that perfect. She knew that now.

‘Did I pass?’

She blinked away memories better left suppressed. ‘What?’

‘Did I pass your test, the one you set by inviting me to dinner here?’

‘Test?’ she asked, looking as incredulous as possible.

‘Come on, Lucy. I knew from the minute you invited me here that you had something up your sleeve. You couldn’t wait to get me out of my comfort zone.’

She nodded begrudgingly. ‘I like a guy who can adjust to his surroundings. Especially a stuck-up, wealthy guy, who I assumed wouldn’t know dahl from a dollar.’

‘Careful. I could’ve sworn you said you like me.’ He ignored her veiled insults and focused on the one thing she wished he wouldn’t. ‘Which is kinda nice, considering I really like you.’

He was teasing, she knew that, but the small part of her that had been starved of male attention for too long lapped it up.

‘Good to see you practising for the cameras,’ she said, hoping to defuse some of the tension gripping her by gulping her mango lassi.

Sadly, the cool fruity yoghurt did little for the heat racing through her body and making her yearn for things she shouldn’t. Like Cash. Naked.

‘Why do you do that?’ His hand snaked across the table to touch her wrist. ‘Pretend like there’s no way in hell I could find you remotely attractive.’

‘Because I know your type and I’m not it.’ She barked out a bitter laugh and gestured at her faded skinny jeans and thigh-length red cotton T. ‘Look at me. I wear khaki work shorts and singlets or denim and cotton.’ She pointed to her face. ‘No make-up.’ She tugged on the ends of her cropped hair. ‘Without a foil or highlight in sight.’

His expression morphed from playful to sincere. ‘Did you stop to think that maybe that’s why I like you? That I don’t go for all that artifice when it matters? That appearances can be deceptive and I prefer to judge a person on what’s inside?’

She could’ve applauded his valiant speech if not for one thing: if what she’d researched was true, he’d spent his entire life proving the opposite of everything he’d just said.

‘Let’s stick to the programme, okay?’ She signalled for the bill. ‘We both know this thing between us is fake. No need to label it as anything else.’

Cash frowned, and looked set to belabour the point, but thankfully the waiter’s speedy arrival took care of that.

Good. The last thing Lucy needed was Cash trying to convince her that he was deeper than her perception. A perception fast being challenged by this surprisingly sweet, sexy man.

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