Authors: Dara Girard
He said the words so suddenly she nearly lost hold of the glass. She set it on the counter. “You can change your mind without shouting.”
He lowered his voice. “I wasn’t shouting. I have to go because...I...” His words trailed off.
She offered him an excuse. “Have errands to run?”
“Exactly.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
Their words were simple, innocuous. The look they shared was not. It steamed, heated with banked desire and longing. And the more it remained unspoken the stronger it seemed to grow.
Brenna broke the gaze and went to the door. “Thank you for thinking about me.” She opened the door. “I mean the cane.”
He passed by her and headed down the stairs. He suddenly stopped and turned. “You were right the first time.” He started up the stairs.
Her body filled with anticipation as he approached her. “Was I?”
“Yes.” His gaze dropped to her lips. “I’m going to kiss you.”
“Why?”
His eyes met hers, startled. “Why?”
“Yes, why?”
Hunter rested his hand against the wall and leaned towards her. “Do I need a reason?”
“I thought this might be part two of your seduction agenda.”
“No.”
“Then what do you call this?”
“Experimentation.”
“And what is your hypothesis?”
“I’ll let you know.” He kissed her, arousing a passion she’d thought she’d safely hidden away. Brenna faintly heard her cane drop. She rested her hands on his chest not to push him back, but she didn’t want to claim him either. She only wanted to savor the moment, savor the emotions being lit within, savor him. She’d expected his mouth to become more demanding instead it became sweeter like the liquid taste of melted sugar. Brenna gripped the front of his shirt; his arms circled her waist. They stumbled into the wall.
At that moment Tima opened her door and stared at them. “Oh, sorry. I thought someone had knocked.”
“No,” Brenna said breathless. “Um. This is Hunter.”
“Nice to meet you, Hunter. I saw you at the fair.” She rested her hip against the doorframe and folded her arms. “Though I doubt you saw me.”
He eyed her extravagant outfit. “I saw you. I just thought you were part of the fair.” Brenna hit him.
Tima laughed. “Pauline was right.”
“About what?”
“You.”
Hunter wasn’t curious enough to ask what her meaning was. He released Brenna. “I’d better go.” He picked up her cane. “I’ll give you my analysis in the morning.”
She grabbed it. “Nothing handwritten and remember to double space.”
He didn’t release it. “I’ll try to remember.”
“Good.”
Tima loudly cleared her throat.
Hunter let go and left. Tima pulled Brenna inside her apartment and shut the door. “Start from the beginning.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“So you weren’t enjoying yourself?”
“Lust was getting the best of us.”
“Lust is a terrible thing to waste.”
“The day after would be a nightmare. I couldn’t imagine waking up next to him.”
“Then let me paint a picture for you. First he’s naked—”
Brenna laughed. “You’re a bad influence on me.”
“I just think you should have fun. And he’d be a lot of fun.”
Brenna bit her lip. “I’m not sure. He’s up to something.”
“Of course he’s up to something he wants to sleep with you.” She shook her head in pity. “Has it been that long?”
“He has another agenda.”
“His look spoke of only one. He’s interested. If you two would allow yourself to drop the charade, you’d admit you were enjoying yourselves.”
“Could a relationship based on deceit become real?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“We’re too much alike.”
“With one great difference. You’re a woman and he’s a man. Think about it.”
***
Miles steepled his fingers and looked at Hunter. “Sleep is an activity that allows our minds and bodies to rejuvenate. It is a necessary activity that allows us to restore ourselves.”
Hunter glanced up from his desk. “Is there a reason for that mini lecture?”
“Yes, you look like you’re not getting any.”
He returned to his desk. Sleep wasn’t the only thing he wasn’t getting. “I’m not tired.”
Miles stood, glancing at the calendar on his phone. The calendar on the wall was a month behind. He changed it. “That’s not my point.”
Hunter sounded bored. “What is it?”
“Forget it.” He leaned on the desk. “What are you working on?”
Hunter held out the pad of paper. Miles studied it then set it down confused. “You’re working on the Trandor cane? Why?”
He leaned back. “It needs some adjustments. Brenna gave me some ideas.”
“She’s into mechanical engineering?”
“No, she uses one of our canes, but it doesn’t suit her so I gave her the Trandor.”
Miles eyes widened. “You son of a bitch.”
He fell forward. “What?”
“She uses a cane?”
“Yes, she uses a cane.”
“Why?”
“She has a limp.”
“She has a limp?”
Hunter clasped his hands together and said in a patient tone, “She uses a cane because she has a limp, what part of this cause and effect model don’t you understand?”
“Was it from an accident?”
“She was born that way.”
“She was born that way?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“You just happen to spot the right woman to introduce to your grandfather as your fiancée and she just happens—the magic word again—to have a limp and use a cane. A Randolph cane. I would imagine Doran doing this but not you.”
Hunter pulled the pad of paper towards him. “I thought you agreed with my plan. I know using a fake fiancée isn’t very ethical, but neither is presenting a man as your boyfriend who isn’t one. We understand each other and I wouldn’t have trouble lengthening our acquaintance.”
“Which means you like her.”
“I thought that was obvious.”
“Yet, you don’t see the angle to this relationship that is obvious to everyone else.” Miles shook his head amazed. “Sometimes you’re like a babe in the woods.” He sighed. “It’s more serious than I thought.”
Hunter frowned. “I don’t—”
“What did she say about the cane?”
“She thought it was ugly.”
“She’s being kind.”
Hunter frowned. “At least it functions. Besides I can fix it.”
Miles sat on the desk and picked up a pen. “Why are you working on it now? You’ve got reports to work on.”
Hunter’s voice tensed. “I’m fully aware of my duties.”
He tapped the pen against his knee then a knowing smile spread on his face. “I get it. This is about the plan.”
“She needs a new cane.”
Miles pointed a pen at him. “You think if you present her with the perfect one she’ll fall into your arms and want to sleep with you.”
Hunter sketched a few lines.
“She only promised you one night as a fake fiancée.”
The pencil tip broke. “I know that.” Hunter shoved the pencil in the electrical sharpener.
Miles stood and patted him on the back. “Just try and get some sleep. It helps you think clearly.”
Hunter sat back in his chair and tossed the pencil on the desk. He crumbled up the sketch. Miles was right. She wouldn’t fall into his arms because of this. Besides he couldn’t get it finished in time for the banquet and meet his other deadlines. He turned towards the trash bin then stopped.
Seeing her in pain continued to throb in his mind like a physical wound. If he didn’t re-deliver the cane the image of her on the ground would continue to haunt him. He would have done anything that day to take the pain away. He smoothed out the sketch. He would finish it. Not for gratitude, but because it was logical to finish something he had started years ago. There was nothing more to it than that. He sighed because he knew there
was
more. He liked Brenna a lot more than he wanted to, but he only wanted to see her as a logical solution to his problem. He could only see marriage as a business transaction. He had to think and be this way to keep himself safe—to keep his heart safe. He wouldn’t have his love rejected again. He’d always be strong and practical—he’d never be vulnerable to a woman again.
***
Brenna twisted and turned in front of the dressing room mirror, watching how the gold silk dress floated around her. “I should not have to buy a new dress for this thing.”
Tima raised a brow. “So make him pay for it as part of your expenses.”
“No,” Pauline said. “Then he may want more.”
“This is part of a bargain,” Brenna said. “He isn’t paying me.”
“He did offer you a dress, right?” Tima asked.
Brenna smiled. “Clever woman. Perhaps I’ll get two.”
Pauline sat back on the maroon couch and crossed her legs. “So he survived your family and your mother was convinced?”
“Completely. He can be very sociable.”
“That’s hard to imagine.”
“He’s a tad arrogant and overbearing, but he has his good points.”
“Yes,” Tima said. “I saw one when he was walking away.”
Pauline sighed. “His only good point is his bank account.”
Brenna turned to her stunned by the cynicism in her tone. “You don’t like him.”
She chewed her top lip then shrugged. “I don’t know him and neither do you. None of us do. I don’t like him using you.”
“I used him.” Brenna adjusted the straps on the dress. “It’s one night of make-believe.”
Pauline looked unconvinced. “Not in that dress.”
Tima said, “It’s gorgeous.”
“It’s dangerous.”
Brenna grinned. “I know.”
“Brenna—”
“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying a man’s attention even if it’s not real. Especially, if it’s not real. Then there won’t be any awkward moments when it ends.”
Pauline’s green eyes met Brenna’s brown ones in the mirror. “But you don’t want to end it, do you?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” she said easily. She slipped out of the dress and tried on another one in turquoise.
“Just remember that he wants to get married so he can get a promotion that’s all. It’s important you don’t forget that, just in case.”
“In case what?”
“He asks you to marry him.”
Brenna’s heart raced at the possibility. From fear or joy she wasn’t sure. She dismissed the thought. “He won’t.”
“He might. He’s ambitious. He wants a wife. You’re the most likely candidate,” she said with an edge of regret.
“Why do you say it like that?”
“I don’t want you to settle. He’ll promise you the world, his type do. And what’s worse he’ll expect you to be grateful.”
Brenna turned to her and folded her arms, preparing herself for the truth. “You don’t think he likes me for me?”
Pauline chose her words carefully, in an effort to spare her friend’s feelings. “Haven’t you ever wondered why he chose you out of all the women he could have? He’s a man of strategy.” She shook her head. “You’re a success. Good at what you do. You don’t need him. I’m not saying you’re not attractive to men, just that some men are more conniving than others.” Her voice lowered. “He’s not right for you, Brenna. If you took a moment and thought about it, you would know I’m right.”
Pauline’s honesty dampened her spirits. “I know I couldn’t marry him. And I wouldn’t want to,” she quickly added in case she sounded disappointed. She began to change into her clothes. What woman would want to be the wife of such a man? One whose ambition was all consuming? One who was forceful, intimidating, kind, fun, tender? She shook her head. She wouldn’t. She admired him because in many ways they were alike. When they wanted something they went after it. Fortunately, she was in control of whether or not he would get what he was after. She liked the position. “Don’t worry, Pauline. Nothing’s going to happen in one night.”
Tima adjusted her earring. “I think—”
“We know what you think,” Pauline said. “But you’re older and wiser than Brenna. Brenna isn’t you. She’s not a live in the moment type of person. Hunter isn’t really interested in her.”
“He seemed pretty interested when I saw them in the hall.”
“Just because he’s interested in sex doesn’t mean he’s interested in her.”
Tima frowned. “No, I—”
“He’s a cunning manipulator.” Pauline leaned forward and stared at Brenna. “He isn’t right for you. Yes, he’s good looking but so was Byron and he dumped you.”
Brenna shook her head. “He didn’t dump me, we grew apart.”
“Right. He dates you for five years then you break up and within a week he’s seeing another woman. That isn’t fair.”
“Byron wasn’t the right one,” Tima said. “He was a nice guy, but I thought he was a little flat.”
“Byron was—”
“Enough!” Brenna said. “Let’s forget about Byron and Hunter. They’re not important. And as hard as it may be to believe I’m not under his spell. I like him and he may prove to be very useful.”
“There’s that word again. Useful. What does that mean?”
Tima began to smile. “It means I think you’re warning the wrong person. Brenna’s up to something.”
“What are you up to?” Pauline asked.
“Nothing,” Brenna replied. “Now what are you going to wear to the Single’s Party?”
***
The Spring Single’s Party was a success. The Mantron hotel party lounge sparkled with tea lights. They mingled with orchids floating in glass bowls on table cloths the colors of cream and red roses. Brenna proudly observed the singles and potential couples. Pauline was right. She was good at what she did. If her mother could look beyond her singleness she’d agree her daughter had chosen a suitable occupation for herself.
Brenna took a sip of her passion fruit aperitif, pleased she had chosen to wear a periwinkle satin shirt and navy slim trousers. The outfit gave her the right professional look with a hint of casual charm. She had to look approachable. She was on alert, expertly yet unobtrusively introducing people and separating others. Her intuition was in high gear tonight and she loved the feeling. Yet there was another feeling of excitement she’d never felt before as though something was about to happen.
A woman wearing a lime silk dress with wavy brunette hair cascading past her shoulders came up to her with a welcoming smile. It softened the jaded quality of her features that intimidated most men.