More than a Convenient Bride. Michelle Celmer
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the face of modern surgery, and at their worst, unwashed and unshaven for weeks on end covered in bug bites from every critter imaginable. They had been to hell and back together, and they always, under any circumstance, had each other’s back. Was this situation any different? Didn’t he owe it to her?
It was becoming less of a question of why, and more of a question of why not. “You really think this could work?” he asked Drew, feeling a glimmer of hope.
“You would have to make it convincing,” Drew said.
“Convincing how?”
“Well, she would have to move in with you.”
Of course as a married couple they would have to live together. He and his mother had more than enough space, and four spare bedrooms for her to choose from. “What else?”
“In public you would have to look as if you’re in love. You know, hold hands, kiss...stuff like that.”
There was a time when he’d wondered what it would be like to kiss Julie. A real kiss, not her usual peck on the cheek when she hugged him goodbye. How would her lips feel pressed against his? How would she taste?
The tug of lust in his boxers caught him completely off guard. What the hell was wrong with him?
He cleared his throat and took a deep swallow of Scotch. “I could do that.”
“No one else can know it’s not real. We keep it right here, between us,” Drew said. “You know you can trust me.”
Trusting Drew wasn’t the issue. He knew that any one of his club brothers would lay down their life for him. The whole idea hinged on Julie’s willingness to break the law and play house with him for heaven only knew how long. And her willingness to play the part convincingly.
It was something he would have to investigate thoroughly on his own before bringing it up to her. Talk to his attorney about the legalities. Make a list of the pros and cons.
“I’ll talk to her,” he told Drew.
“Who knows,” Drew said with a sly grin, “you two might actually fall in love.”
That’s where Drew was wrong. If Luc and Julie were meant to fall in love, meant to be a couple, it would have happened a long time ago.
* * *
Julie sat in her office the next day, eyes darting nervously from the work on her desk to the clock on the wall. She was due to meet Luc in the atrium for a late lunch in fifteen minutes. Seeing her best friend had never been cause for a case of the jitters, but this was different: this had her heart thumping, her hands trembling and her stomach tied in knots. She was planning to ask Luc a favor, the biggest and most important favor she had ever asked him. Ever asked anyone. But if there was a single person on the planet she could count on to come through for her, it was Luc. More so than her own sister, who could be flighty at best. It sometimes took her days or even a week to answer a text or email. Sometimes she didn’t answer at all.
Luc was truly the only person in her life who she could count on unconditionally. And if everything went as she hoped, she would be able to stay in the country indefinitely. Worst case, Luc would laugh in her face, and she would be on her way back to her native home, where she had only distant family left and no friends to speak of.
In the event that Luc said no, she would spend the rest of her time in the US tying up loose ends regarding the research on Luc’s latest invention. She had reports to file and interviews to transcribe so that the switch to his new assistant would be a smooth one. Though the idea of someone else finishing her work left an empty feeling in the pit of her stomach.
The sudden rap on her office door startled her out of her musings. She looked up and was surprised to see Luc standing there. She checked the clock. She still had ten minutes to spare.
“Can I come in?” he asked. He wore scrubs under his lab coat, meaning he must have had a surgery scheduled that morning.
“Of course,” she said, gesturing him in. “I thought we were meeting in the atrium. Did I get the time wrong?”
“Nope.” He stepped into her office, which wasn’t much larger than a small walk-in closet, and as he did, she felt as if all the breathable air disappeared from the room. It would explain the dizzy feeling in her head, the frantic beat of her heart.
What was wrong with her? She’d never been nervous around Luc. The truth is, she never got nervous about much of anything. Especially Luc. Everything about him, from his slow, easy grin and low, patient voice to his dark, compassionate eyes, naturally put people at ease. He could be intimidating as hell when he wanted to be. She’d seen it. But unless the situation warranted it, he chose not to be.
“I wanted a minute to talk in private,” he said, snapping the door closed behind him. He crossed the two steps to her desk and sat on the edge. She could be mistaken, but he looked a little uneasy, which wasn’t like him at all.
“There’s something I need to ask you,” he said.
What a coincidence. “There’s something I need to ask you, too.”
“Why don’t I go first,” he said.
Now that she’d worked up the nerve, she couldn’t back down. “I think I should go first.”
“What I have to say might impact what you have to say.”
All the more reason to say it right now. The last thing she wanted was to make a huge deal about this. If she made a fool of herself, so be it.
It sure wouldn’t be the first time.
Luc was watching her expectantly, and she knew that the longer she dragged this out, the harder it would be. What she was about to ask him was no small favor. She wouldn’t blame him at all if he said no.
Okay, Jules, you can do this.
Hoping he didn’t hear the slight quiver in her voice, notice her unsteady hands or the erratic flutter of her pulse, she said, “I may have come up with a way to stay in the country. But I need your help.”
His brow rose expectantly. “What kind of help?”
Her heart lodged in her throat, so when she opened her mouth to speak, nothing came out. For several seconds she sat there like a fool, the words frozen in her vocal cords.
Wearing a quirky smile, Luc asked, “Are you okay?”
Yes and no.
She was being silly. He was her best friend. Even if he said no, it wouldn’t change anything. Hopefully it would only be slightly humiliating.
Come on, Jules, just say it.
Gathering her courage, she said, “You know that I really don’t want to leave the US.”
“And I don’t want you to leave,” he said.
“Royal has become my home. I feel like I belong here.”
“You do belong here.” He said it as if there were no question in his mind. “And you know that I’ll do anything I can to help. As a matter of fact—”
“Please, let me finish.” Earnest as he appeared, he might want to take that back when she told him her plan. “I’ve looked into every possible avenue, but there’s only one way I’ve come up with that will assure I can stay.”
She paused taking a deep, empowering breath. Then another.
“Are you going to tell me,” he asked, looking mildly amused. “Or do you want me to guess?”
Oh, for Pete’s sake, just say it, Jules. “We could get married. Temporarily of course,” she added swiftly. “Just until I can earn my citizenship. Then we can get a quickie divorce and