Her Faux Fiancé (13 page)

“I don’t know, Erik. He and my grandmother were so close. I can only image what it must be like to lose someone you’ve spent almost your whole life with. But he’s all I have left.”

“He knows that, Analise. And he loves you. He won’t do anything … ” She appreciated him not ending the sentence. With both her mother and his sister taking their own lives, it was difficult to find the right word for such an act of desperation.

“It’s like he’s given up on life. I’ve heard of people dying of heartbreak before. I’m worried that if he thinks we are really together, he’ll fade away, feeling that now I have you, he can let go. Can’t I tell him that our engagement is just a ruse to keep your family off your back?”

“No,” Erik blurted out before continuing more gently, “I think that would hurt him too much, having deceived him in the first place. We’ll have to make sure we tell him how much we want him a part of our lives.”

“I guess the engagement will be over soon, anyway. Then he’ll want to live on to help me over the pain.” She didn’t need to tell Erik the inevitability of pain was becoming stronger each day. She was a little surprised, however, when he made no comment on the timing of their breakup.

Instead, he undid his seatbelt and leaned over to her. He kissed her so sweetly, another tear escaped. Pulling back a fraction he searched her eyes. “I am going to make you a promise, right here, right now. No matter what happens or doesn’t happen between us, you’ll never be alone. You will always be a part of me, part of my family.”

He kissed her again, and she almost believed him.

Another wave of nausea swelled within Analise. Having thrown up everything she’d eaten, her stomach was empty. But that didn’t stop the heaves. She pressed her forehead against the cool bathroom wall. Fortunately, her grandfather had taken his second cup of morning coffee out onto the porch, and it was unlikely he’d have heard her retching from the front of the house.

She tried to convince herself that it was eating too many perogies at the fair yesterday … or that the milk tasted funny in her cereal this morning. She was too much of a realist, though, to believe any of those scenarios for long. If she’d had a fever, she could try to persuade herself that it was malaria or some other tropical disease she’d picked up in her travels. But she had none of those symptoms. And the excuse that she hadn’t had a period because of the recent stress and trauma in her life wasn’t cutting it, either.

As she sipped a glass of cold water in the kitchen, she glanced at the clock on the stove. She had almost two hours before she had to be at Erik’s grandparents’ farm. Brent and Tracy were going to pick her up on their way to save another car to park.

If she hurried, she still had enough time to go to the pharmacy before she had to get ready. She daren’t go to one in Akureyri; too many people recognized her now, and Gimli was too busy with the festival. She’d have to drive over to Arborg.

Fighting the desire to hurl again, she grabbed her bag and keys and headed out the door. Time to get a stick and pee on it.

Mission accomplished, she sat on the edge of her mattress and watched the little indicator window proudly proclaim her pregnant. Analise lay back on the bed and stared at the ceiling. This was not something she’d ever imagined happening. She’d faithfully taken the pill every day until he’d died, knowing Jean-Claude would never want a child—never want the responsibility, never want to be tied down. She glanced at the stick again. Her late fiancé had given her one more surprise. Even in death, he still managed to control her life.

Her hand flitted over her still-flat belly. Flat for now. A little life grew inside, a new start. Her child. A wave of warmth and possessiveness overrode the nerves and trepidation. She was going to be a mom. And she was going to be the best damn mom, ever.

Her phone pinged with an incoming text.

The mom thing would have to wait. For now, she had to play the part of fake fiancée.

Analise sat up, grabbed her dress, and headed for the shower. She had forty-five minutes to get ready for the Sigurdson party. Her pregnancy was a complication she hadn’t reckoned on in her pretend engagement. Hopefully, she’d be able to keep it secret until she left Manitoba.

Right on time, Brent and Tracy arrived to pick her up. Analise had carefully done her makeup, trying to hide the ravages of her earlier nausea. She put on a fake smile, to match her fake ring given to her by her fake fiancé, and greeted the family like she hadn’t seen them in years. Too soon, they were at the farm, surrounded by hundreds of people.

Analise shifted her weight from one foot to the other. How could one person possibly have so much family? Her cheeks hurt from constantly smiling for the past two hours, accepting congratulations on her engagement and welcomes to the family. Erik’s arm seemed permanently fused to her waist. As if sensing her malaise, he kept asking if she was okay.

“I’m starting to worry about you, my love. Do you think it’s time you saw a doctor?”

A doctor’s appointment would be the perfect excuse to go into Winnipeg to meet the Yemeni contact. “You could be right. I’ll try to book something for later in the week.”

Erik put a hand to her face and stared into her eyes. His blue gaze seemed to look right into her heart. Before he could discover her secret, she looked away. Fortunately, one of Erik’s endless cousins stood beside them, waiting to speak.

“Analise, I know it’s your job, and you’re here on holiday … but I notice you have your camera. Would you mind taking a picture of my family?” Erik’s cousin, Leslie, asked.

“Sure, no problem.” She pulled out of Erik’s arms and swung her camera up to her eye before he could respond.

After that, it was a series of photo opportunities. She’d planned on giving Erik’s grandparents an album of family photos for an anniversary gift, and this gave her the chance to take some candid as well as posed shots. She switched to taking photos unobserved with a long lens—capturing genuine emotion and not the practiced smiles of staged photos. It was her forte.

Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it. She was in the zone and had often gone twelve hours without eating when working.

“There you are.” Erik’s voice made her jump.

Swiveling around, she spied her fake fiancé leaning against the porch railing. In each hand, he had a paper plate heaped with food. Analise put the lens cap on, replaced the camera in her bag, and approached. He got full marks for being a caring fiancé.

As soon as she stepped within two feet of him, the smell of the food caused another wave of nausea.

“Excuse me. I need to go to the bathroom first,” she managed to get out.

Pushing past him, she ran into the house. Thankfully, the bathroom was empty, as most of the guests were still lining up at the buffet tables.

She made it just in time, without a second to spare to lock the door.

After she had emptied her stomach for the second time that day, she sat on the floor, pressing her sweating brow to the cool edge of the bathtub.

She was about to leverage herself off the floor when the door flew open. A woman wearing a flower-print dress, thick-soled black shoes, and her hair pulled back into a severe bun stood in the doorway. She took one look at Analise, another at the raised toilet seat, and had a light-bulb moment.

“You’re pregnant!” She almost did a dance as she pronounced the diagnosis.

Damn, I could have saved ten bucks on the test.

As the woman turned and ran from the room, Analise belatedly recognized her as one of Erik’s second cousins. The one he’d whispered was the biggest gossip in the family.

“Nooo!” Analise called out too late. “It’s stomach flu!”

Time must have slowed somehow, because by the time she’d scrambled to her feet and made it out of the room, there was no sign of the woman. Analise swished her mouth out with a handful of water, then pinched her cheeks, hoping to give her face a little color.

When she stepped out onto the back porch, it seemed every eye turned in her direction. The general buzz of conversation stilled. If this scene were playing out in an Old West movie, a tumbleweed would have rolled by. She scanned the sea of faces staring at her and caught a glimpse of the woman she’d seen briefly from the floor. The cousin had a huge grin like she’d scored the biggest scoop of the century. Erik’s mother stood next to him, her face flushed and her jaw clenched. Erik himself blinked once, then plastered on a tight smile. Putting the paper plate he still held for her down on a nearby table, his eyes never left her face. Everyone at the gathering watched as he approached her.

“Love, come sit down in the house where it’s quiet. I’ll get you a glass of water.” Erik’s voice was loud enough for all to hear, his grip on her elbow firm yet gentle. “I told you to lie down if you weren’t feeling well,” he added in a stage whisper as they entered the house.

Dazed, Analise followed him into his grandparents’ small sitting room. Crocheted protectors sat on the arms and backs of the chairs; the sofa was adorned with a handmade, knit afghan in a plethora of colors. It was a room where myriad family discussions had taken place. But she was fairly certain no sham engagements had been dissolved on the discovery that the fake fiancée was carrying another man’s child. Erik led her over to the sofa and gestured for her to sit.

“You’re pregnant?” The question was gently phrased, but his eyes bore into hers.

“Yes,” she whispered.

To his credit, he handled the shock well. “I would have appreciated a little heads-up. My cousin congratulated my mother, who immediately demanded to know why I hadn’t told her first. I could hardly say it was because it was news to me.”

He paced the tiny room, looming over her.

“I’m sorry. I just did the test this morning. We haven’t had a moment alone since I got here.” She really should have made the time to tell him.
Nice party. By the way, I’m pregnant with my dead fiancé’s baby
. Her only excuse was that she was still trying to get her head around the discovery herself.

“You realize that everyone assumes the baby is mine.”

She swallowed. “I know. But if you tell them it isn’t, we’ll have the perfect excuse to end this pretense.”

“No.” His voice was firm. He stood in front of her, hands on his hips, his lips pulled into a firm line.

“What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“We aren’t getting un-engaged. We’re getting married.”

• • •

The tiny bit of color in her face disappeared at his words. Her gaze narrowed as if she couldn’t believe what he’d just said. He could hardly believe it himself. But having said the words, he couldn’t take them back—didn’t want to take them back.

“Erik, you can’t be serious. We hardly know each other. This engagement was to be a temporary thing, to appease your family during your grandparents’ celebrations. By the end of next week we are to part company for good.”

The room was too small for any decent pacing, so he sat next to Analise. Her hand shook in her lap, and he took it in his. “Listen, Analise. I don’t think you realize how complicated this situation is for you now, here.”

“I’m a single mom. I think even in Akureyri they can grasp that concept.”

“To every person out there,” he nodded toward the back of the house, “and by now probably half the population of Manitoba, you are carrying
my
baby. If I deny it, it will blacken your name forever. Every time you or your child came here, they would talk about how you had an affair with another man while engaged to me.”

“What if I don’t want to come back here?”

Erik searched her eyes. “I don’t think that’s true. I think the longer you’re here, the more you understand this is the place you’re meant to be. What’s waiting for you back in Paris, Analise? A tiny apartment, a congested city? What kind of place is that to raise a child? Here, you have fresh air and space. And your baby will be loved by an entire community.”

“But only if I marry you.”

“Marrying me will certainly help. You might not have noticed, I’m quite popular.” He tried to smile, but she looked too worried to respond to his tease.

“But you don’t have plans to stay. Do you suggest we marry and then you go off to London or Toronto and I stay here?” Her aqua eyes swam in unshed tears. Was she upset about the baby or the prospect of him leaving? His heart pounded, and his mouth went dry.

“I’ve been thinking about returning here myself.” Since wandering around the fair with her yesterday, he’d been contemplating how enjoyable a quiet life in the country could be, with Analise. It may not provide the same challenge of working in a world-class city, but even rural people needed good legal counsel. She didn’t look convinced, however, so he continued. “While I’ve enjoyed my time in Europe, working eighteen-hour days six or seven days a week isn’t really living. Being back here has reminded me that a simpler life has its merits, as well. I’ve proved I can make it with the big boys. Now I want to prove I can be a good man—a good husband … and father.”

“You can’t mean this, Erik. I appreciate what you’re saying; however, I need to decide what’s best for my baby. I’m not sure a marriage of convenience is it.”

The slamming of the back screen door warned them they were no longer alone. He stood, ready to shield Analise from whomever had entered. She seemed to be one person away from a complete breakdown.

“Knock, knock,” his mother’s slurred voice rang out.

He drew in a deep breath before answering. “We’re in here, Mom.” Although, he needn’t have bothered, as she was already standing in the doorway.

“Are you okay, dears? Your announcement was quite the surprise. I wish you would have told me first rather than let me hear it from Corinna Perkins.” The censure in her voice was negated as she held on to the doorframe for support.

“Sorry, we were hoping to keep it quiet until after Gran and Gramps’ anniversary party next week. We didn’t want to overshadow their celebration.” Good, the news sounded like it was old to him, rather than the ten minutes he’d had to adjust to the monumental shift in his relationship, real or pretend, with Analise.