Her Faux Fiancé (5 page)

Her grandfather turned his head at her arrival and motioned to her grandmother’s rocker next to his. She hesitated a moment.
Afi
and
Amma
had always sat in these rockers, waiting for her to come home from school. Then, she’d sat on the porch railing and told them about her day. Even the memory brought peace to her soul. Yet it seemed wrong somehow to take the empty seat.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” Analise began.

“No, I don’t sleep much these days.”

“
Afi
”—Analise waited until her grandfather looked at her—“if I had known
Amma
was ill, I would have come home right away. I would’ve been here for both of you. I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right, sweet. We didn’t even try to contact you until the doctors said there was no hope. Then that lawyer man told us that you were somewhere in the Middle East and he hadn’t heard from you in months.”

“My—colleague”—she stopped herself just in time before saying fiancé—“Jean-Claude and I were working on a story about the nomadic tribes of the desert. We didn’t go to any towns or cities for several weeks. I should have kept in better contact.”

At least that’s what I thought we were working on. Turns out, I had no idea who my fiancé really was until it was too late.

“It was better that way. Toward the end, your
Amma
didn’t look like she had when you were here. It’s good you remember how she was before.”

“But I wanted to tell her how much I loved her, how much I love you both. You’re my only family.” Analise took a drink of her coffee, hoping to melt the lump that had developed in her throat.

“She knew, sweet, we both did. What about your family in France? Has something happened to your father?”

“He’s still alive as far as I know. I don’t see him. If we have to, we communicate through my lawyer.”

“He is your father, Analise.”

“He stopped being my father when he sent me here.” She could never understand how her grandfather could be so open-minded and forgiving, especially after what her father had done to her mother, Gunnar’s daughter.

“It all worked out for the best. We got to know and love you, and you had a good life here, didn’t you?”

“Yes,
Afi
, a very good life. That was because of you and
Amma
. Not because of
him
.”

“Well, despite the loss of your mother, we were grateful to have you. We wouldn’t have had it any other way. And now you have Erik. I thought you were seeing some French journalist?”

“I was, but then I met Erik again … ” She stared out across the land, not meeting her grandfather’s eyes. She hadn’t lied, not quite. Was the guilt that skidded through her from minimizing Jean-Claude’s place in her life or deceiving her grandparent? A soft sigh escaped her lips. Analise reached across and took her grandfather’s hand in hers. Together, they watched the dawn turn into day.

A day that would include Erik Sigurdson.

“You’re Analise Tagan,” Sheryl accused. The waitress plonked the menus down in front of them. The complimentary glasses of orange juice received only slightly better treatment. “I knew you looked familiar, and it bugged me all day. So I checked my high school yearbook when I got home last night.”

“It’s Thordarson, now,” Analise corrected. Sheryl looked perplexed. “I changed my last name when I returned to France.”

“I didn’t know … ” Gunnar put down his menu, his blue eyes unusually bright when they met hers.

“I was going to change it to Gunnarsdöttir, but I figured I’d be spelling it constantly, and it doesn’t really work outside of Iceland.”

Sheryl shifted her weight from one foot to the other. As they weren’t discussing Erik, she obviously wasn’t interested. “Can I take your order?”

“I’m going to have two eggs over easy, bacon extra crispy, and whole wheat toast.” Analise snapped her menu shut. “
Afi
?”

Her grandfather placed his order and handed the menu back to Sheryl.

“Why’d you change your name?” Gunnar placed his hand on hers. The weathered, callused palm felt wonderful.

“Because I consider you and
Amma
my parents. The Tagans never treated me like family.”

“You shouldn’t blame your father too much. He was sent to Manitoba by his family when he was seventeen because he got some bigwig’s daughter pregnant in France. Your mother was all over him from the minute he arrived. It was inevitable that he would take what was offered so willingly. When his family found out he got another girl pregnant, they insisted he marry this time. I wish I had insisted they didn’t marry, but your mom was so happy.”

“Really?” Analise couldn’t remember her mother ever being happy. At least not sober and happy.

“I think she was at first—the grand adventure, moving to Paris, seeing Europe. When we spoke on the phone she always said how great things were. We didn’t know how bad it was between her and your dad. When she visited, she always seemed so bored and wanted to go back to France right away.” Gunnar shook his head.

Analise didn’t want to discuss her mother. That wound had healed, or at least scarred over so much it didn’t hurt anymore.

Sheryl brought their coffees, hopefully a fresher brew than the last time. Analise took a tentative sip and managed to swallow without her taste buds revolting too much.

“So,
Afi
. As there doesn’t seem to be much going on at the stables, I thought maybe we could take a trip to Iceland. See the real Akureyri together.”

“What about Erik?” Her grandfather’s question came on the heels of Sheryl arriving with their breakfast. She lingered at the table, no doubt wanting to hear Analise’s answer.

“Can I have some more orange juice, please?” Analise handed over her empty glass and waited for the waitress to leave.

“I’m sure he can spare me for a couple of weeks while I accompany my grandfather to his homeland.” Quick save—she’d forgotten she was supposed to be engaged to Erik.

“I don’t know. And we can’t go right away. The Sigurdsons would never forgive me if I took their favorite grandson’s fiancée away during their anniversary celebration. I have to live next to them.”

Damn, there’d be no escape for the next three weeks at least.

“Well, think about it. We can go as soon as all this anniversary nonsense is over.”

“Sixty-five years of marriage is not nonsense. It’s an achievement to be celebrated. Not many young people nowadays can make a commitment that long. You think you and Erik have a shot?”

“I hope so.” She meticulously put jam on her bread, hoping her grandfather didn’t see the deceit in her eyes.

“Well, speak of the devil.”

Before Analise could ask what her grandfather meant, Erik slid into the booth next to her.

“Good morning, my love.” Erik turned her face up to his. The spicy scent of his aftershave filled her head seconds before his lips touched hers. His kiss was soft but effective. It scrambled her brain.

“Morning,” she murmured as he pulled back a couple centimeters.

“Good morning, Erik. What can I get you?” Sheryl suddenly appeared at the table.

“I’ll have the works,” he declared. “I seem to be extra hungry this morning.”

While Sheryl filled his coffee cup, Analise studied the man next to her. Dark denim clung to the hard thigh pressed against hers. A light blue t-shirt stretched across his chest, the color highlighting his eyes. Her heart fluttered a moment before a glint off her diamond ring reminded her that it was all a charade.

“Did you sleep well?” Erik’s deep voice set the flutter off again. Her body was already betraying her. Heaven help her if they were alone for long.

“Yes, thanks. And you?” She sounded more like a distant relative than a lover. She’d have to work on her fiancée skills.

“Not really, I missed you,” Erik said.

The implication heated her cheeks.
God, when was the last time I blushed? This past meets present thing is really getting to me.

“I went by the stables,” he continued. “But as neither vehicle was there, I figured you’d come here. You should have called me.”

“Sorry. I thought your mother would keep you tied to her all day. I was going to stop by on my way back to Granddad’s,” she said.

Sheryl appeared with Erik’s breakfast accompanied by a hot, lingering gaze. Analise couldn’t really blame her. He was gorgeous. Even if he didn’t want to fend off his relatives’ comments on his continual bachelorhood, he probably needed a fake fiancée for protection. All the single sharks in town were circling the waters at the sniff of fresh meat. Analise shot Sheryl a “back off, he’s taken” glare. Might as well start practicing her fiancée skills on her former nemesis.

Catching the interaction, her grandfather chuckled from his seat across the table. “What do you two have planned for the day?” He’d already finished his breakfast and drained the last of his coffee.

“Analise and I are going to set up a joint bank account,” Erik replied before she could.

“Here?” A huge smile lit her grandfather’s face.

“Yes. Even if we don’t end up living here full-time, we’ll visit often enough that having a local account will make sense.” Erik’s smooth explanation made it sound like they’d discussed all those mundane things a couple who had spent a lot of time together would have covered. Had he done this before with some other woman? After all, he’d had an engagement ring in his pocket; he must have been near a proposal with someone. But she couldn’t really ask with her grandfather across the table and big-ears Sheryl hovering at a nearby booth. Another mystery to solve. Now all she had to do was not get caught up in the feel of his arms around her next time they were alone and remember to ask.

Two hours later, Analise wondered if they’d ever be alone again. After breakfast, they walked over to the bank, but with no line, Erik’s cousin who worked there had assisted them quickly. Rather than set up an account, however, Erik had paid off her grandfather’s debts and arranged for a small line of credit, with him acting as guarantor. The bank manager had then called her granddad to let him know that because he’d been such a good customer in the past, they were going to hold off the foreclosure and provide some capital to help him get back on his feet again. On Erik’s insistence, his generosity was kept secret.

But she knew.

As soon as that was done, they’d run into virtually everyone from Erik’s family who wanted to say hello. Then his phone rang, and his mother had pleaded with him to come home. Not ready for another meeting with Susan so soon, Analise had begged off and driven her rental SUV back to her grandfather’s. But not before Erik had kissed her a lingering good-bye in full view of half the town. So, that was the engagement publicly announced. There was definitely no backing out now.

• • •

Analise slammed the phone down on the hook, intercepting a worried glance from her grandfather.

“Something wrong, sweet?”

She cast a puzzled look at her grandfather then remembered she’d been speaking French and he hadn’t understood any of her phone conversation. Probably a good thing, because she’d let some rather rude words fly and her granddad had never tolerated swearing in his house. He might have given her permission, though, if he knew the reason for her distress. The goddamned French government had frozen her bank accounts and put a hold on her property and photography portfolio, rendering her virtually penniless while they investigated how much she knew of her former lover’s activities.

“Just a hiccup with the bank in France,” she prevaricated. “I’m sure it will all be sorted soon.”

“Oh,” her grandfather replied, a blush staining his cheeks.

With his own financial worries lifted, already she could see a rise in her granddad’s spirits. His shoulders weren’t as slouched, and his eyes held a little more optimism in them. She owed Erik. Big time.

And that didn’t sit well with her. She hated being beholden to anyone, even her faux fiancé. But instead of a quick transaction to sell her flat and other assets in Paris, it now looked like it would be weeks before she could settle accounts. Added to that, as she had only purchased a one-way plane ticket, she didn’t have sufficient money to fly back to Paris to sort it out herself.

Jean-Claude was still screwing up her life.

“I’m going for a walk.” She grabbed her camera bag out of habit and strode from the house. She needed to get somewhere she could scream without further worrying her granddad.

Passing the empty stables, she headed for the furthest paddock. Thor, her old horse, raised his head as she marched by, then continued munching on a juicy patch of grass. The verdant blades were more interesting than the girl who had flown all over the countryside on his back in a futile attempt to run away from herself.

When she reached the far corner of her granddad’s property, safe for now, due to Erik’s generosity, she sat on a fallen tree trunk. Often, as a teenager, she’d lain on the ground here, staring at the clouds that passed overhead. How ironic that she’d become like one of those clouds—blown around the world at the whim of one man. She’d never realized the power and control Jean-Claude had over her until he was gone. Gone but not forgotten. Which brought her right back to her dilemma.

Away from everyone, she let the tears fall. She cried for Jean-Claude and their lost relationship, which, although troubled, had kept her from feeling alone. She cried for her grandma, who had always said tomorrow would be better. From where Analise lay, tomorrow looked just like today and yesterday.

When there were no more tears inside her, she wiped her face with her lens cleaning cloth. Wallowing in pity wasn’t going to make it better. She needed to get her focus back. Work had kept her relatively sane for years. It had to help now.

Grabbing her camera, she aimed the lens at a butterfly resting on a wild rose blossom, the blue of the iridescent wings a beautiful contrast to the soft, pink flower. Her fingers automatically adjusted the focus and aperture, catching the moment when the insect rose majestically from the flower, fluttering its wings as it went in search of more delicious nectar.