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The Fake Engagement Favor Page 7
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“Well, I think everyone had a nice time. And Gage, your announcement seemed to go over very well,” Rose said.
“It’ll be all over the news tomorrow. Trust me, I know,” Harper said wryly. She’d been a reality star, who’d been disguised and in hiding when she’d met Cade. He hadn’t had a clue who she really was. But love conquered all, and the two were as happy as clams now.
“That was the point of all this, wasn’t it? To make news?” Cade glanced at his brother. “Do me a favor, bro, don’t invite any paparazzi to our wedding. We’ve had enough of that for three lifetimes.”
“Oh, no. That’s not going to happen,” Gianna declared immediately. “We wouldn’t dream of it. Some things are sacred. Your wedding certainly is.”
“Damn,” Gage said, as if just realizing reporters might try to crash the wedding. “I’ll hire security to make sure of it. Nothing’s gonna ruin your big day,” he assured the couple.
“Well—” Rose placed her hand over her heart “—I certainly hope not.”
“I promise, Mom.” Gage kissed her cheek. “And thanks for allowing me to hijack the party tonight.”
“I’m only glad my family was all here today.” She took Gianna’s hand. “My whole family.”
Tears burned behind Gianna’s eyes. She’d needed to hear that. Rose had always made her feel part of the family, but tonight especially, when she was feeling like such a fraud, Rose’s love surrounded her and made her feel a bit better.
“I’m pretty tired. I think it’s time I turn in.” Rose kissed everyone good-night, and Cade and Harper escorted her into the house. Lily was off somewhere with Nathan, she supposed. Gianna hadn’t seen her for quite some time now, which left just her and Gage standing in a yard that just a short time ago had been swarming with guests.
“Well, what do you say? Ready to turn in?” Gage asked.
She was beat. The physical toll didn’t even begin to match the mental toll this day had taken on her. “My cheeks hurt from all the smiling I did tonight.”
Gage reached for her hand, and she pretended not to notice as she turned and began walking toward the guesthouse. She wished to high heaven Gage wouldn’t follow her. That he could find another place to sleep tonight. She needed privacy, but she doubted he’d agree, and quite honestly, she wasn’t up for an argument.
Not tonight.
Not after that earth-shattering kiss.
Not on the evening of her fake engagement.
Five
Gianna tossed and turned in her bed. She couldn’t sleep, the events of the entire day rehashing in her mind. She was living a lie and had to resign herself to the fact that for the next six weeks, she was at Gage’s mercy. She’d been fine with that—until he’d kissed her. That kiss, powerful, masterful and filled with dire hunger, worried her no end. She was a red-blooded Italian girl who was passionate about her work, her students, her family. But she’d never experienced that kind of unbridled passion and desire for a man. And least of all Gage Tremaine.
“Until now,” she whispered into the night.
She punched her pillow and tossed her head back again, squeezing her eyes shut. But it was no use. She knew in her bones that sleep would elude her right now. She might as well not waste her time wrestling with plaguing notions. She always had a ton of research waiting for her. She rose from bed and padded barefoot toward the kitchen, making doubly sure she was quiet as she passed Gage’s bedroom.
Entering the kitchen, she filled an electric kettle with water. The pot heated water in twenty seconds flat, and she poured it into a teacup. Chamomile tea steeped, steam billowing up.
Movement caught her eye from the living room. She peeked out and found Gage sitting on the sofa, focused on a laptop, a whiskey glass in his hand. He was deep in thought and didn’t seem to notice her. And then, as if he’d read her thoughts, he swiveled his head and spotted her.
Oh, man.
He rose, abandoning his computer. He took a quick sip of whiskey and sauntered over.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked quietly.
She swallowed hard, forcing her gaze to his eyes and not on his bare, ultra-ripped chest. All he wore were faded blue jeans, the waistband dipping inches below his navel. There was a presence about him, an aura of sensual prowess causing her heart to pound.
“No, uh, just thought some tea would help.”
He smiled and approached, keeping his eyes trained on her face and not the thigh-length white T-shirt she wore that screamed Fairmont U Tigers, complete with a menacing feline on the front. Her hair was up in a ridiculous bun, tousled from her fight with her pillows.
“Try this,” he said, coming close and spilling some whiskey into her teacup.
“Gage, what are you doing?”
“Helping you get back to sleep. So I can get back to what I was doing.”
“Am I disturbing you?”
He eyed her appearance, from her painted toenails to her legs, up her thighs, and then spending extra time perusing the tiger covering her breasts. She held her breath, wondering what he was thinking. Finally, his gaze roamed over her face to land on her silly hairdo. Hunger flashed in his eyes, and he sipped whiskey again.
“No.”
“I’m glad. What are you doing up at this hour?”
“When I can’t sleep, I get up and write.”
“Write?”
“Songs. Well, the lyrics to music. Didn’t think you’d appreciate me fiddling with my guitar this late at night.”
“That was probably wise, though I’m up now anyway.”
“Sip your tea. It’ll knock you out.”
“Because I’m a lightweight?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled and finished off his drink. “And because I make you nervous.”
She set her teacup down, her hands shaking. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing. Forget I said anything.”
“You do not make me nervous, Gage Tremaine.”
“I don’t? You liked that kiss as much as I did. Admit it.”
She folded her arms across her T-shirt, which brought his gaze to her chest again. “I will not admit anything. Besides, it was all for show.”
“Yeah, all for show,” he repeated, folding his arms across his chest now, too, taking a stance. “But what if it wasn’t?”
“I don’t deal in what-ifs, Gage.”
“I’m just saying, what if that kiss wasn’t a fluke? What if it’s the best kiss either one of us have ever had? What if we try it again, just to be sure?”
“You want to kiss me again? Right here and now. Without an audience?” She backed up a step, picked up her teacup and sipped, needing the fortification. The whiskey burned her throat going down, and her eyes opened wide. “No, thanks.”
“Nervous?”
“Gage, you can’t be serious? Look at us, the way we’re dressed, or rather, undressed.” She scanned his body again, the muscles in his arms and bare chest so glorious her insides heated up. He was positively beautiful in the flesh.
“I’m looking. And I like what I see.”
“Me? I’m a mess. Don’t even go there, Gage.”
“You don’t even know how tempting you are.”
She rubbed her forehead. “This is crazy.” Then she glared at him. “Are you trying to make me crazy?”
“No.”
She grabbed her teacup and walked past him. “Well, you are. So cut it out. I’m going to bed.”
“I don’t suppose that’s an invitation.”
She turned to him, suddenly imagining him in her bed. Imagining more kisses like the one tonight. She imagined touching him in all his hard places, and her hesitation caused his brows to rise with hope.
She was just a convenience to him, a woman who was handy and who would be spending the next month with him. She wasn’t a superfan, wasn’t intere
sted in him. She didn’t even like him that much. “Have another drink, Gage. What if we forget this conversation ever happened?”
“Sure, I’m good at pretending.”
“I know that about you. That’s why I’m going to bed now. Alone.”
He grinned. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to lock your door. That’s not my style.”
The man was impossible. Impossibly sexy. Impossibly confident. But he was right. He didn’t have to force a situation. Gage didn’t have to work too hard to get women to fall at his feet.
She just had to make sure she wasn’t one of those women.
* * *
For the next few days, Gianna’s phone rang more than it had the entire year. Suddenly she was sought after. People she hadn’t heard from in a long time began calling. Her high school friends, her old roommates, people who hadn’t come to her mother’s funeral all of a sudden were leaving her messages of congratulations. She was the woman who’d captured Gage Tremaine’s heart, and now she was deemed worthy of their attention.
Her engagement to the country superstar had made headline news, and Gage’s phone was also ringing off the hook. He was scheduled for morning shows, late-night talk shows and a few music events.
People were curious about their relationship, about their almost minuscule courtship. How had Gage hidden Gianna in plain sight, they wanted to know. When did he fall in love with her, exactly, was the question of the day. Gianna’s professional record had been scrutinized pretty thoroughly. They’d reported on her college days and on how she’d come to work at Fairmont U. They’d written about her various awards and accomplishments. Most of what they wrote was complimentary, as if the press and Gage’s music colleagues had put their stamp of approval on their engagement.
Tremaine’s Engagement Sets off Fireworks.
Gage and the Professor, a Match Made in Country Heaven?
Professor Gives Tremaine an A Grade.
And just like that, Gianna was thrust into Gage’s world. Luckily, Gage had left her alone most of the time, allowing her to do her research. She didn’t know where he went during the day, but they’d always meet up at the main house for dinner with his family. And in the evenings, he’d walk her back to the guesthouse and wish her good-night.
She relished the peace and quiet, but all that was about to change this morning. She had packed last night for their trip to Nashville, and they were flying out soon.
She was dressed in new jeans and a pink chiffon blouse with bell sleeves. Another one of Lily’s picks. A matching jacket would work well when on the plane, she’d said. With Gage’s approval, Lily had taken one of his credit cards one day and gone on a shopping spree, coming back with a dozen new outfits for Gianna’s travels.
The toaster popped up her bread nice and crispy, and as she spread butter on it, Gage walked into the kitchen, dressed casually, too, his phone to his ear.
“Yeah, okay, Regan,” he said, giving Gianna a quick good-morning smile. “We’ll be there on time. Gianna, too. I know, I know. We’ll talk later.”
She poured them both a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. Gage shut off his phone and took a seat facing her. Why did he always look so good in the morning? His hair had yet to be combed. Even tousled, it looked amazing. And the morning scruff darkening his face was heavier than usual today, making him look even sexier, if that were possible.
“Thanks for the coffee,” he said, running a hand through his hair. The more unruly, the better, it seemed.
“You’re welcome.” They’d found a certain rhythm together these past few days. Gage had been on his best behavior around her lately, and that made her wary.
He took a sip and sighed. “This is good.”
“Problems?” She’d gotten to know his moods, and this one today wasn’t good.
“Why do you ask?”
“There’s a face you make when you’re irritated about something.”
“You know my faces?”
“Mostly your sour ones. Remember what I do for a living, Gage. I study emotions and relationships.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“So what’s up? And if it’s none of my business, I’m sure you’ll tell me.”
“Unfortunately, it does involve you. And I want you to keep an open mind.”
She didn’t like the sound of this. “Why? What now?” she asked.
“Well, uh.” He sucked in a deep breath, as if he’d rather have a root canal on both sides of his mouth than tell her. “It seems as if our engagement news is bigger than we expected. Regan booked us on The Johnny O in the Morning show. It’s the hottest ticket on the air in the South, and well, they want to interview both of us.”
“Us? As in you and me?” He couldn’t be serious. She wasn’t supposed to be the story, he was. She was to be his trophy fiancée, showing up at events, but certainly not being a part of them. She didn’t sign up for this. “I’m not doing it, Gage.”
“Regan said it’s important. We did such a good job of convincing the world we’re in love that now the public wants to see us together.”
“They’ve got lots of photos of us, Gage. Isn’t that enough?”
“Apparently not. Look, I told Regan not to involve you, but she says it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. They want us for tomorrow morning. And if you don’t show, it’s a deal breaker.”
She bit her lip, shaking her head. It was a lot to ask of her. “Gage, I don’t want to do this.”
“All right, I guess I’ll call Regan back and tell her to forget it. I suppose it’s not the end of the world.”
He was surprisingly gracious about it, which made her feel like a heel.
In her heart, she didn’t want to sacrifice what little privacy she had left, but her darn analytical brain told her the whole purpose for this ruse was to enhance and revive Gage’s image. “If you cancel the interview, that sorta defeats the purpose of this charade, doesn’t it? I’m doing this to help boost your image, not to turn down ideal opportunities.”
Hope entered his eyes. “Are you changing your mind?”
“I’m looking at it logically. It makes sense. The sooner you fix your reputation, the sooner this whole thing will be over.”
“So?” His brows rose, and hope, again, registered on his face. Like a little boy getting his wish.
“So...you’re gonna owe me for this.”
“Ha! You mean more than I already owe you? I would be more than grateful, Gianna. You’d have me over a barrel. Not too many wo—uh, people can say that.”
“Gage, you know how much I hate being the center of attention.”
“I do know.”
“We’re opposites in most every way.”
“I know that, too. But if anyone can pull off a convincing interview, it would be you. You’re a smart cookie.”
Was she? Would a smart cookie get herself into this situation in the first place? “I think that’s a compliment.”
“It is,” he said without hesitation.
Gianna squeezed her eyes shut. She knew she had no choice. Regan was right—this was too good an opportunity to squander. And it would get them to the finish line that much sooner. She sighed and looked deep into his eyes. “I might regret it, but I’ll do it. Just. This. One. Time.”
Gage immediately grinned. He rose, pulling her up from her chair and wrapping both his arms around her in an enormous hug. Her nose went to his neck, and she breathed in his fresh, soapy scent, felt the power of his ripped chest against her breasts, the warmth of his body pulsing around her. “Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek before releasing her.
They stared at each other, a few moments ticking by. Did that demonstrative hug rattle him as much as it did her? She couldn’t tell, but she did know one thing—making Gage happy could very well be infectious.
Gage was first
to break the silence. “Well, I’ll just go get our luggage. Are you all packed?”
“Pretty much.”
“The limo will be here in thirty minutes.”
“I’ll be ready.”
But was she ready to spend time with Gage on the road? Spend her nights with him in a hotel room? Pretend that she was madly in love with him while on television?
She sighed. For a woman who kept things simple, her life was getting more and more complicated.
* * *
The chartered plane had amenities galore, from luxurious seats and tables to a couch for relaxing and enough food to feed the Fairmont Tigers football team. Gage didn’t think much of it. He was accustomed to traveling this way, but for her, a girl with middle-class values, it all seemed over the top.
“The price of fame,” Gage had said when they’d first boarded. He wasn’t being sarcastic, either. He explained that he couldn’t take commercial airlines anymore. It wasn’t worth the scrutiny and the constant attention. Folks in other parts of the country weren’t as thoughtful as in his hometown in Juliet County.
The trip lasted a little more than an hour, and when they touched down in Nashville, a certain thrill ran up and down her spine. There was so much history here. The town rivaled New Orleans in terms of history, music and excitement.
Gianna’s eyes were wide-open as they traveled the streets, taking in the sights, the incredible landscapes. And when they pulled up to the Gaylord Opryland Resort, she was immediately struck by the grandeur and opulence of this fabulous hotel.
A doorman opened their limo door. “Welcome to the Gaylord,” he said. Gage unfolded his body to a standing position and then reached for her hand. “Here we are,” he said.
Gianna stepped out of the limo and was immediately struck by a blast of humidity. In the South, one could always count on drippy, cling-to-your-body kind of heat in summer. Gianna was used to it. She once spent three days without air-conditioning in her university classroom when the air reached 90 percent humidity. Nashville was no different, it seemed.
But as they approached the entrance, hand in hand, a blast of cool air welcomed them. She stood by Gage’s side in the lobby as he checked in, keeping her gaze focused on him and not the dozen pairs of knowing eyes on the country music star.