Page 32 of Falling for your Fake Boyfriend

The weather was gorgeous, and according to my phone app, it would stay that way for the wedding. The cerulean blue sky looked as if it had been brought in specially for the big event. Even the birds seemed to be twittering in a chorus as if only birds with the best voices were allowed to enter the property this weekend. Leo trotted ahead to bark at the swans and the ducks on the pond. The swans grew agitated and floated quickly to the opposite side, but the ducks seemed to know and expect Leo’s antics.

“Leo!” I called. “Come back. You’re upsetting the swans.”

He gave one last bark and then trotted back to me. For the first time in the endless, fairy tale landscape, I spotted a bit of reality. It was a back gate with two large wrought-iron wings, like at the entrance. They were open, and dust kicked up as two trucks entered the property. There was a small door in the back wall as well, and several members of the house staff entered as the trucks waddled over to the parking area next to the gates. It seemed the Greysons werethattype of rich people, the kind who had secret tunnels and passageways in their mansions for the staff. That way the lady or man of the house didn’t have to worry about the unpleasant scenario of running into a staff member. It was hard to see that side of Luke but then I hadn’t known him long. I really didn’t know him at all.

Leo became more interested in a squirrel that raced across the lawn toward a maple tree. He took off, and just like that, I lost my walking partner. There was a flurry of activity happening at the wedding tents. In one tent, billows of flowing fabric hung down in perfect waves from the top of the tent. Large pink ribbons held back folds of fabric to create beautiful openings on each side. Glittering chandeliers hung from silver poles that stretched across the ceiling. Two men were erecting a large wooden arch on a raised platform. Others were setting up rows of chairs divided by a long, blue carpet.

I peeked into the reception tent. The same billowing layers of white fabric created an almost animated, liquid ceiling over dozens of tables and chairs. Women were wrapping white silk rose garlands around the poles that held up the tent. More chandeliers, shimmering in the moving light coming through the tents, hung down from above. It was the quintessential fairy-tale wedding venue—the immaculate, gorgeous grounds, the manor house in the background and the tents more well-appointed than a five-star luxury resort.

Workers were constructing a stage and dance floor in the third tent. I was sure I’d never experience a wedding like this again, and that was all right. One was probably enough. I headed back toward the house.

Voices and the sounds of horses snorting carried my attention across to the stable area. The group was just returning from their ride. I was strolling through an amazing set of gardens, sleeping in a room fit for a princess and dining on food that was so good it nearly brought tears to my eyes, and yet I couldn’t wait for this weekend to end. I was a thorn in the middle of a downy quilt, a cactus in the middle of a field of soft-petaled wildflowers, a duck in the middle of a pond of swans. I didn’t fit here and frankly, I never wanted to fit in a place like this.

I’d had a lovely walk, accompanied by Leo, one of the few likable characters in this wreck of a movie, only the pleasant morning was about to come to a screeching halt. Apparently, Margaret Greyson had not joined the others for the ride. It surprised me. I’d expected her to be right there, encouraging the budding relationship between her son and Alexandria Carlton. Maybe she’d sent her partner in crime on the mission, so she could stay behind and hassle the small blonde impediment to her plans. Her chin immediately lifted, and she walked toward me with vigor and purpose. It seemed she’d been out looking for me.

“Isla, good morning. The staff mentioned you’d gone for a walk. Let’s have a little chat, shall we?” She motioned for me to follow, and I was sure when we reached our destination, a bench near her rose garden, I’d be handed a poisonous apple.

I hadn’t said a word yet. I honestly felt no need to waste my breath on the woman. Coldness rolled off her in icy waves, and I reminded myself she was nothing to me. I wouldn’t see her after this weekend.

“Did you have a nice walk?” she asked in a way that said “I don’t care really; I’m just being polite.”

“Yes.” I’d perfected my short answers for her.

“That’s nice.” She smoothed her hands over the skirt of her dress and primly crossed her ankles. “Now, I know Luke and you are dating, and that’s very sweet, but Luke is destined for great things. He’ll eventually inherit all of this and the business, and certain things are expected of him so that he can carry on the family name.”

I stared straight at her and badly wanted to mention that her lips hardly moved when she talked. But I kept that to myself. “How very traditional,” I said, wryly.

“Well, that’s how families of our stature function—that way legacies are carried on.”

“Very nice. Is that all? I’m feeling a bit tired after the walk.”

“What I’m saying is—you don’t need to stick around for the wedding. I think this—whatever you two had together—has gone on long enough.”

“Six months. We met at a coffee shop, and it was love at first sight.” I had no idea why I bothered, but suddenly, I felt like giving this the old college try. If for no other reason but to knock her off her mean, ambitious stride.

Even her laugh lacked charm. “Please, the two of you don’t have anything in common. And I’ve seen no show of affection. Not even a gesture of it. That’s why I’m sure it’ll be just as easy for the two of you to call things off before he—before you both waste any more time.”

The group of riders had handed off their horses, and they were all walking back toward the house. Alex was glued to Luke’s side, and he was smiling at something she said.

“You see. He’s found a much more suitable match. I’m sure you can see that the best thing would be for you to pack up?—”

I turned to her. “I’m Luke’s guest. And we’ve beenbehaving ourselvesbecause we’re at a large gathering with a lot of people, but you know what—you’re right. The affection has been lacking.” I stood up and was slightly dizzy as I walked with determination toward the group walking toward us. I blamed the whole impulsive decision on Luke’s pernicious mother. I badly wanted to just turn around, run to the house and pack up, but I didn’t want this woman to have a win. I was sure she always got her way, but not this time.

Luke spotted me walking toward him. He smiled, and I almost lost my nerve. He was too handsome, too rich, too out of my league. but I had to do this. “Hello, darling, I’ve missed you,” I said and kept walking toward him. I caught a slight glare from Alexandria as I reached him. And right there, in front of his guests, his sister, his father and all of them, I curled my hand around the back of his neck, hopped up on tiptoes and pressed my mouth against his.

I’d taken him by surprise, and he felt slightly tense beneath my hand. I was going to walk away from this in full humiliation, and now, I was even angrier at Margaret because she’d win after all. This would have all gone presumably better if I’d given Luke a heads-up about my plans. Then, after what seemed like a long, embarrassing eternity, Luke’s arms went around me, and he pulled me closer. For a few wonderful and slightly surreal moments, everything around us—the people, the landscape, the activity—faded away, and we were entangled in a long kiss. And it was pretty darn great as far as kisses went. My body melted against his, and our mouths melded together as if we were made for each other. It took all my will to part my mouth from his, and again for a few surreal moments, we were entirely alone staring into each other’s eyes.

“Did you have a nice ride?” I asked airily. And “air-headed” would have been a great way to describe how I was feeling. My feet were only just settling back on the ground.

“We did,angel, thanks.” I’d called himdarling, so he reciprocated withangel. I refused to allow myself even a second of dreaming that it was all real.

“Well, I’m parched,” Alex said. It seemed she wasn’t enjoying the few seconds where she wasn’t the center of attention. I glanced her direction. She’d lifted her long, slick ponytail off her neck, and she was seductively wiping her throat with her silk scarf.

I spun around and took Luke’s hand. “I’m parched, too.” Margaret had left the bench. She was marching back toward the house, and I reveled, for a moment, in her tense posture. I’d gotten a small win after all. But had it been worth it? If Luke wanted to start up something with Alex, then Margaret was right; I was in the way. I’d have to corner him later and ask him one way or another. It was a conversation I didn’t look forward to at all.

ChapterSixteen

Luke

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