Page 31 of Faking It with the Off-Limits Doctor

“Good. I could get used to a breakfast like that. Right. I’m heading into the office today, so I won’t need you for lunch. I’ll be back for dinner, though.”

“What time will that be?” I ask.

He smirks and says, “You sound like my wife already. It’ll be about seven,” he continues, already turning and heading toward the door. “See you later. Oh, wait.” He turns back to me and holds out a key. “You’ll be needing this. If you’re not cooking, there’s no need for you to be here, so let yourself in and out when you need to.”

Absently, I hold out my hand, reeling a little with such trust and responsibility. My surprise must be showing because he says, “I trust you, Dara. I mean, you’re my fiancée now, right?”

“Apparently so,” I counter.

“Good. See you tonight.”

Once I hear the roaring engine of his extremely fancy car pull away outside, I tentatively walk into the living room. He can’t sneak up to the house with that thing, so I’m safe enough. Maybe I shouldn’t be so nosey, but I can’t help it.

Well, you are his fiancée.

Sure. I’ll tell myself that.

I glance at the stairs but then turn away. That’s his private space, and I don’t belong up there. Instead, I wander around the rest of the house, noticing how sparsely furnished it is. Alex’s home couldn’t be more opposite to mine, and it’s not because he’s just moved in. The furniture that’s here—what little there is—is all brand new. It’s just so clinical. Everything perfectly in its place.

It certainly needs a woman’s touch.

It does. Which gives me a great idea.

I return to the house a little before six. Popping the trunk of the car, I lift out a couple of boxes and, one by one, carry them to the front door. When I’ve unlocked it, I bring the boxes into the house.

Deciding to go on a little shopping spree, I’ve bought some things that will make this place look lived in, and for the next half an hour, I strategically set them out across shelves and counters. Only then do I head into the kitchen to start making Alex’s dinner.

The roar of his engine is hard to miss, but I ignore it and put the finishing touches to the coq au vin. The table is already set, so once I hear the front door slam closed, I elbow my way out of the kitchen, meeting him as he’s just walking into the dining area.

He’s surprised and says, “Now that’s what I call impeccable timing.”

“That’s what I’m here for, right?” I say, placing the plate down.

But his eyes aren’t lingering on the food. He’s already looking about him, clearly spotting my earlier additions.

“What the heck happened to my house?” he says, taking in the soft flowers, and small plants I bought earlier.

“You mean your man cave.” I lift an eyebrow.

He turns to look at me. “Was it that bad?”

“There’s no way your future business partner would have believed a woman lived in this house. I know you guys are all about practicality, but still.”

Alex lingers for a minute more, and then nodding in seeming satisfaction, he drops his case and sits at the table.

A little later, he brings his plate into the kitchen. Clearly, I’m wasting my time telling him to leave it on the table, so this time, I don’t protest.

But before I turn to do the washing up, Alex says, “I’ve got something for you.” He pops open a ring box and presents me with a stunning ring.

“Oh, my lord,” I gasp.

As he places it on my finger, my eyes fly wide as the diamonds sparkle. Maybe they’re not diamonds. I mean. He’s not going to spend such a ridiculous amount of money on a fake relationship, right?

I’m still mesmerized by it, real or not. I lift my eyes to his, and we share a gaze. He’s still holding my hand, and as I get lost in the chocolate brown of his eyes, it suddenly feels like I want to remain there for far longer than necessary. I’m pretty sure he’s feeling it, too, judging by the intensity with which he’s looking back. But the feeling that’s growing in my stomach scares the living daylights out of me, and I have to break the moment.

“I can’t possibly wear this all the time, Alex,” I say, pulling my hand from his. “It will get ruined when I work.”

“It’s not real, Dara. Besides, you only need to wear it when we’re out together, or maybe when you know you’re going to be around people, just to keep up appearances.”

---