Chapter 14

Chapter Fourteen

' T his place has changed so much.'

Brittany's head swivelled from side to side as she strolled along Hastings Street, Noosa's main thoroughfare, with Nick.

He nodded. ‘Boutiques, cafés, restaurants, five-star hotels. We almost rival London in the trendy stakes, huh?'

'Almost.'

London had a vibe all of its own and she loved it, but coming home to find Noosa had turned hip and cosmopolitan was a nice surprise.

Nick laid a hand on her arm and she stopped, more startled by his touch than Noos'as transformation. 'There is one thing we didn't discuss the other night.'

Just one? She could think of several, including how platonic this marriage would be, where they would live, how long they'd keep up the pretence. And that was just for starters.

'What's that?'

'How long you're staying.'

They may not have discussed this the other night but he had already asked the same question and she'd avoided it. But now she had a definitive timeline from David, she had to tell Nick the truth. They had eight weeks to make it look as if they had a pretend marriage for real.

But what if the timeline was too short for him and reneged? Where did that leave her? Without access to his farm and without the promotion she'd worked her ass off for.

She couldn't risk it.

'All depends on how long the job takes.' Shrugging, she pointed to the tapas bar they'd stopped outside. ‘Fancy a snack? I'm starving.'

'Okay.' He led her into the bar, to a cosy table in the furthest corner, and ordered for them before turning that penetrating dark gaze back on her. 'So are we talking two months? Four? Longer?'

'You're really hung up on this timeline thing, aren't you?'

He raised an eyebrow. 'I wouldn't call it a hang-up. An honest answer will do.'

Hating the little white lie she had to tell, she said, 'As long as it takes. I have the workers in place, so once we're married I can really get stuck in.'

She picked at an olive from a tray that had been placed in front of them. 'I guess you want to know what happens after I'm done.'

To her surprise, he shook his head. 'Not really. I'm more concerned with the here and now, and solidifying my reputation with investors.'

She could leave well enough alone. In fact, she'd rather be discussing anything than their cold, calculating marriage scheduled for the morning.

But if she left in two months as planned, where would that leave Nick and his precious reputation?

'So when I leave…' She trailed off, not wanting to voice her doubts out loud. The way she saw it, she was getting the better end of this deal: full access to the farm to nail her promotion, then she walked away, back to her old life, leaving Nick to fend off curiosity about why his marriage fell apart so quickly and the possible financial fallout from his investors.

'When you leave, I act like nothing is wrong. We'll have a modern marriage, where we spend several months of the year together and months apart, because we have highly successful careers on different continents. Business people understand that.'

'But—'

'It's nobody's concern but ours,' he said, his tone cool and confident, at odds with the banked heat in his enigmatic gaze. 'This is going to work. Trust me.'

He placed a hand over hers before she could blink and rather than pulling away, the sane thing to do, she turned hers over and intertwined her fingers with his.

With a squeeze, he smiled and her heart flip-flopped in predictable fashion.

'That's my girl. So, are you ready for tomorrow?'

'Ready as I'll ever be.'

She'd found a dress in a high-end boutique, shoes to match, and had booked a hairdresser appointment. Did a simple outfit constitute ready? A smart up-do? In reality, she'd never be ready to walk down the aisle with the only guy she'd ever really loved, knowing their marriage was fake.

'About the honeymoon…'

She snapped her gaze to his, not liking the naughty twinkle in his one little bit. 'A honeymoon isn't part of the deal.

She all but yanked her hand out of his on the pretext of reaching for her water glass, and he shrugged, a roguish smile playing about his mouth. In that moment she wished she could take it back.

She'd always been a sucker for that smile, from the first moment he'd squatted to pick up her books strewn in the dirt when she'd tumbled off the bus the day they'd met. He'd smiled his way into her life, her heart, and she'd be damned if she sat here and let him do it all over again.

'Okay, no honeymoon.'

'Good.' She folded her arms and glared at him. With little affect if his growing grin was any indication.

'But we do need to have a wedding night.'

'No way—'

'This marriage has to look real. I'm a prominent businessman in the area and if we don't go away, we'll have to do something special for our wedding night otherwise people will talk.'

He had a point, damn him. Not a big deal. They could share a room; didn't mean they'd have to do anything in it.

'Fine,' she gritted out, her admission as painful as the time she admitted she'd sent him that secret admirer Valentine's card in eighth grade.

Leaning forward, he whispered in her ear. 'You won't be disappointed.'

She managed a nod while sending a silent prayer heavenward for strength.

She had a feeling she'd need it to resist what the reformed bad boy had in mind come tomorrow.