Page 28 of Paper Roses

The tightness in my chest eases, and the understanding in his blue eyes warms me. He’s always made me feel this way.

“But we do have a problem.” He glances at the closed door.

“Only the one? It is a good day.”

“Yes, well my dad used to quote Shakespeare. The ‘Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive’ line. It’s completely appropriate for our situation, as we’re now stuck with everyone thinking we’re in love. We were going to separate in a few weeks and annul the marriage. What do we do now?”

I shake my head. “Shit.”

For some reason he finds that funny and breaks into peals of laughter that are so contagious that my own mouth twitches.

When he’s calmed down, he asks again, “So, what do we do?”

It’s hard to concentrate on the problem with him sitting so close to me. “We’ll have to wing it,” I finally say. “And maybe pretend. Do you mind?”

“DoI? What about you?”

I shrug. “It shouldn’t be too hard. Neither of us are demonstrative in public. We’ll just say that we’re trying to keep it professional.” I hesitate. “And I hate to say this, but I think you’re going to have to move in with me.”

“You’rejoking!”

I offer him a wry smile. “I don’t know whether to be relieved or mortified that we’re such crap fakers. You should stay with me for a few weeks, because the lawyers might check up on things.”

His brow furrows. He’s probably thinking of my flat. I control a wince and hope he doesn’t notice. I can’t have him living in what was once the place I shared with Mick. “In a hotel,” I blurt out.

“Pardon?”

“I’m going to have work done to the flat, so we’ll get a suite at a hotel. The suite will have two bedrooms, but we’ll just say we’re using one as an office.”

“I didn’t know you were doing work upstairs.”

Neither did I, but apparently, I am now.

“Oh yes,” I say vaguely. “A complete refit.” I want to groan because now I’m committed to doing up the flat in the near future.

He studies me, and I resist the urge to squirm. Finally, he nods. “Well, you must allow me to reimburse you for the hotel.” I open my mouth to argue but he talks over me. “This is my fault and there is no way that you’re paying for that.”

I’m momentarily nonplussed by his air of command. Then I smile. “I’d have to move out of my flat, anyway.” I hold up my hand. “How about halves?”

“Okay,” he says slowly.

“Shake on it.”

He studies my hand and then slides his own into it. It’s strangely smooth and easy, like a key sliding into a well-worn lock. I tighten my grip involuntarily and then pull away. “Perfect. I’ll let you find the hotel and book it.”

Instantly back in his groove, he grabs his notepad from my desk. “Any requests?”

“Near the office, and it must have a gym and a pool.”

“Okay.” He bites the tip of his pen, and I have to conceal a shudder as my body reacts to the sight of those full lips pursing. His mouth is so pink?—

“And when we split up?”

I blink. “Sorry?”

“When we split up, what do we say?”

My stomach pangs, but I say calmly, “We’ll just say it was a mistake and we’re going to stay friends and work colleagues. It’ll be a storm in a teacup, but over with before we know it. Nobody is that interested in us, surely?”

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