Fiona Brand

The Fiancée Charade


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barely been able to sleep, let alone eat. She had been desperately afraid that once the authorities had Sanchia in their grasp, she would never get her back, that no matter how much evidence she supplied to prove that she was a good mother, she would lose her baby girl.

      Luckily, Lauren, who had a houseful of kids, had managed to convince the welfare caseworker to release Sanchia into her care until Gemma could get back into the country. Although Lauren had stressed to Gemma that it was a one-off favor and the situation couldn’t go on for too long. With four children of her own, she was ultrabusy and on a shoestring budget.

      Gemma had broken into her savings and transferred a chunk of money to Lauren, but there was no getting past the fact that she was out of luck, and almost out of time.

      After all of these years of struggling as a solo parent, she was on the verge of losing her baby. She now had one imperative, and one only: to convince the welfare agency that she was a suitable mother for Sanchia. After racking her brains for days, she kept coming back to a desperate but foolproof solution. If she could establish that she was in a relationship with a view to marriage, that would instantly provide the stability they wanted.

      Her only believable hope for marriage was her ex-boss, who she had dated for the past couple of years. Despite being a bachelor with a wild reputation, Zane fulfilled a lot of the qualities on her personal wish list for a husband. He was gorgeous, honorable and likable, and most of all, he loved kids. She had often thought that when she was ready to fall in love again, it should be with Zane.

      He also happened to be the man whom the tabloids had claimed she’d had a series of on-again, off-again affairs with. It wasn’t true; so far they really were just friends, but it was also a fact that whenever Zane had needed a date for a business or charity function, he had consistently come back to her.

      For a man who was as wary of intimacy as Zane, that was significant. Gemma had poked and prodded at the issue until she was tired of thinking about it. In the end she had decided that if Zane really did nurture a secret passion then he was obviously waiting for a sign from her, or a situation, that would allow him to declare his feelings.

      If they got engaged, in one stroke the untrue claims of both the nanny and the tabloids would be discredited. The “notorious affair” would instantly morph into a relationship and the notoriety that had been attached to Gemma would be discredited because it was a well-known fact that the tabloids sensationalized everything. The fact that Zane was currently here, on Medinos, had set the plan in concrete.

      The only aspect that worried Gemma was that Zane was Gabriel’s cousin. If she married Zane, that would put Sanchia into Gabriel’s orbit.

      The silence on the other end of the phone line was punctuated by another squeak, squeak. “I heard you say to Aunty Lauren you’ve got someone in mind.

      The verbatim piece of conversation made Gemma frown. Smoothly ignoring Sanchia’s insistence, she changed the subject and asked her about her cousins.

      “The wallflower lady came to visit us today—”

      The welfare lady. Gemma’s heart pounded at the cutoff statement, the brief rustling sound as if someone else had taken the phone. A split second later, her sister came on the line.

      “Gemma? It’s okay, it was just a routine visit. She wanted to check your arrival date and luckily you had sent me your flight details, so I gave them to her.”

      Gemma could feel her anxiety level rising. “They didn’t need to bother you. I emailed them my itinerary days ago. Plus they know the reason I’m not back in New Zealand yet is because I’m busy trying to fulfill their stipulation that I have a stable job.”

      Gemma’s fingers tightened on the phone. Before everything had come to pieces she had accepted an appointment as a PA on Medinos to the Atraeus Resort’s manager. She had hoped that by coming to Medinos, the Atraeus Group’s head office, instead of resigning over the phone, she might be able to arrange a transfer to one of the Atraeus enterprises in New Zealand.

      There was a small awkward silence. “Maybe whoever received the details didn’t pass it on. You know what government departments can be like….”

      Gemma took a long, deep breath and forced herself to sound light and breezy, as if it didn’t matter that the welfare case worker was sneaking around, checking up on her. Trying to take Sanchia. “Sorry, you’re absolutely right. I’m just a bit stressed.”

      “Don’t worry.” Lauren’s voice was crisp. “No way will I let them take Sanchia again. Just get back soon.”

      “I will.” No pressure.

      Once she had gotten the dad.

      Gemma hung up. Collecting the trolley, she made her way to the service elevator and stabbed the call button. The stainless-steel doors threw her image back at her as she waited, the shapeless smock that swamped her slim frame, cheeks now flushed, dark eyes overly bright.

      She frowned. The emotion that kept clutching at her chest, her heart, was understandable. She missed Sanchia and she was ultrastressed about having to prove she was a good, stable parent. Plus it had been a shock to run into Luisa Messena and find herself plunged into the past. Into the other area in which she had been deemed not good enough.

      Grimly, she switched her thoughts back to her small daughter. With her straight black hair and sparkling dark eyes, Sanchia was a touchstone she desperately needed right at that moment.

      Gemma might have made mistakes, and as a single mother she’d had to make a lot of sacrifices, but everything she had gone through had been worth it. Sanchia was the sweetest, most adorable thing in her life.

      Although she was now far from being a baby. Like most of the O’Neills she had been born precocious, and she had grown up fast. The only difference was that unlike her red-haired cousins, Sanchia was dark and distinctly exotic. Just like her father.

      The doors slid open. Blanking out that last thought, Gemma stepped inside and hit the ground-floor button.

      Gabriel was going to marry.

      She frowned, wishing she could stop her overtired brain from going in circles. The news shouldn’t have meant anything to her. Years had passed; she was over the wild schoolgirl crush that had dominated her teens.

      Drawing a deep breath, she tried to make an honest examination of her feelings. Dismay, old hurt and the one she didn’t want to go near. The thought that somewhere, beneath all the layers of common sense and determined positive thinking, she might still harbor a few unresolved feelings for Gabriel.

      Chest tight, she tried to distract herself from that possibility by watching floor numbers flash by. When that didn’t work, she took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes closed for long seconds, trying to neutralize the emotion that had sneaked up on her.

      Despite her efforts hot moisture leaked out from beneath her lids. It was stress and tiredness, nothing more. Using her fingers, she carefully wiped her cheeks, careful not to smear her mascara.

      The doors slid open onto an empty corridor. Relieved, Gemma pushed the trolley into the service area and left it near the door to the kitchens. Head now throbbing with a definite headache, she walked to the sleek office that should have been officially hers as of next week, if the child welfare authorities hadn’t changed her priorities.

      Instead of settling in her new job on Medinos and bringing Sanchia over to live with her here, she was now flying home on the first available flight. This office, and the job she had been about to start, would now be someone else’s.

      Collecting the resignation she had written earlier, she walked briskly through to the manager’s office. It was empty, which was a relief, and she just placed it on his blotter. He was probably personally conducting other VIP guests, all here to attend the launch party of Ambrosi Pearls the following evening, to their rooms.

      With her resignation now official, Gemma felt, if not relieved, at least a sense of closure.

      As she turned to leave, she