Best Fake Day Page 16

  Managing to clear his blurry vision, he suddenly became aware of two things. One—there were definitely not two Izzys, and two—Izzy wasn’t there. He could only guess why he was lying in a hospital bed with his arm in plaster and a fierce pain in his insides. Something very large had wrecked his plan big time.

  “Jack,” said a relieved voice at his side. Sarah?

  “You gave us a scare there, son,” said the deep, gruff voice belonging to the person squeezing his hand before it was let go.

  Frank. Frank and Sarah. His grandparents.

  “Izzy,” Jack said, frowning as he heard the croak of his voice that matched the sandpaper quality of the inside of his mouth.

  Jack’s gaze, now focused, didn’t miss the hesitation on Frank’s weary looking face. “She stayed until she was sure you were out of the woods. Then she left. She said you needed your family more than her and took off.”

  Jack ground his jaw tightly until he realized just how much that hurt. Not need her? Like hell!

  “You know who I am?”

  “Yes,” said Sarah. Her expression made him want to reach out and hold the woman he barely knew. If that was possible. But the wariness he carried told him that was a bad idea.

  “I wasn’t sure, of course, but I think I always knew. From the first time you came to take a look around. You recognized your father’s portrait that day, didn’t you?”

  Jack could only nod. He remembered the day well. He knew exactly where he was going and why but somehow seeing an image of his father and knowing his parents must have loved him dearly had added extra ice to his veins. They had loved their son but would not acknowledge the existence of a grandchild.

  That first time he’d seen Daleford Hall for sale he knew he wanted it. To have some part of a family history he’d been unable to share. But then when he met his grandparents and saw his father’s portrait, all of his resentment roared at him and he aimed it at every brick and wall that he wanted to tear down.

  But none of that seemed to matter now. He only wanted Izzy.

  “Why did she go? I mean the real reason.”

  “I think she blamed herself for your accident. She said it was her fault that you had left,” Sarah said.

  She blamed herself? Yeah, it was because of her he was in the car, but it wasn’t her fault that some crazy idiot was taking the bend of a country lane like the circuit at Monaco and he’d ended up getting up close and personal with a centuries-old oak tree. It hadn’t helped that he’d been distracted by the thought of Izzy’s body wrapped around his, and how much he liked it there.

  And he wasn’t running away.

  For now he would give an explanation to the people standing there and then he was going to get Izzy back!

  He turned to Frank. “I’d been to Daleford Hall twice before—with my mother. She took me there one winter’s day. We traveled by bus and then walked what seemed like forever.” But he remembered thinking how lucky he was to be spending time alone with his mother. It made it seem worth the hit he had taken the night before from Peter when Michael had lied and said that it was Jack who had pushed him over and made him tear his trousers. It wasn’t. Michael had tripped over his own feet. That was the first time Peter had shown his anger physically.

  “I must have been five or six. It was bitterly cold and it had snowed. We got to the driveway and we just stopped. My mother just stood there staring at the house, not saying a word. I stood there and I thought ‘when I grow up that’s where I want to live’. A car came up the driveway and you drove past, not looking at us, not anything. Then we turned back and trudged home.”

  “She never told you where you were or who lived there?”

  “No,” he said after Sarah pressed a straw to his lips so he could sip the cool water.

  “And the second time?”

  Ah, the second time. A few years later. That time his mother had been fuming. Another argument between her and Peter. Again his fault. That time they reached the doors. He felt sure his mother was going to leave him there. But after his mother had pounded on those doors a member of staff had told them the family who lived there was away. He remembered that time feeling there was a reason he should dislike coming there, but not being sure why.

  The pained expression on Sarah’s face made him wince. “If we’d have...” She trailed off as she took his hand.

  Jack cleared his throat. “It seems we have much to catch up,” he said thickly as his grandparents stood at each side of him. It would have been a warm moment if there wasn’t an icy hole left by the person missing.

  Chapter 13

  “You tricked me!” Izzy turned, throwing Rafe a look that she hoped penetrated at least a tiny bit of his skin, or made the big guy trip over his humungous feet.

  “Thanks, Rafe,” said a deep voice behind her that washed over her body like a caress.

  She tried to glare at Rafe that bit longer, intending to ignore the man sitting up in his bed and grinning at her like a loon. A hot loon she quickly amended.

  Yep, definitely hot. Had he had the nurses come in and stage his sexiness? The bruising around his cheek and the shadowing of his jaw only added to his ruggedness. Not to mention his mussed-up hair...How was it possible he could make a hospital gown look sexy?

  She took calming breaths, trying to resettle the position of her hammering heart from her toes back into her chest. If it could squeeze past the tightness there.

  If he was not so injured and she wasn’t so grateful to see that sexy smile on his lips she would...would...would what? Kiss him senseless?

  Yep, most likely.

  And even though she knew he was very much alive, her heart was still fighting to pump itself out of her body.

  “Rafe told me you had deteriorated! That your condition was much worse,” she ground out, still showing her angry face before it slipped.

  Because at the moment she’d arrived back at home to see Rafe waiting there for her, fear had pitted in her stomach and turned it into a cavern of dread. At his words she’d numbly climbed in the car, and when they reached the hospital, she’d charged down the corridor like she was wearing running clothes rather than her slim pencil skirt and high heels.

  Jack gave a sheepish grin “Technically, that’s true. But not in the life-or-death kind of way. Not exactly.”

  “Then what exactly?” she demanded impatiently, giving an exasperated roll of her eyes.

  “I have an ache for you that gets worse every day.”

  “Really?” she said, giving a pointed look at his groin.

  He grinned broadly, showing his pearly white teeth. “Not there,” he said as he followed her gaze. “It hurts somewhere far worse.”

  “Where?” she asked, completely breaking her resolve to cut him loose. Cut herself loose from the risk of hurting either of them again.

  He raised his hand. “Here,” he said as he placed his flattened palm over the left side of his chest. Over his heart?

  The teasing glint had left his steely eyes, replaced by sincerity and...fear?

  “Izzy, this is a pain that only you can take away.”

  How could she take away his pain when she had caused him so much? She was the one who had made him go to dinner with Frank and Sarah. She was the one goading him into feeling things that just weren’t there. It was because of her that he had been on the road at the same time as a drunk driver.

  Izzy sucked in a breath as she cast a glance down his injured body. Granted, after just over a week he had made a rapid recovery. Fortunately, surgery had repaired the bleed and his spleen was fully intact. If he wasn’t so bruised and fractured she could almost say he’d been lucky.

  “I gave you all of this pain.”

  Jack gave a puzzled frown. “No, you didn’t. How could you think that?”

  When heat cascaded down her cheeks she realized it was tears. Jack bolted upright and tried to mask his wince.

  “If I hadn’t pushed you, you wouldn’t have left. Then you wouldn’t have been in
jured.”

  He cursed. “Damn, Izzy, I wasn’t leaving. I was on my way back! To you!”

  She stepped forward to stop him as he swung his legs out of the bed, but he held his hand up to stop her. His face was wracked in obvious pain and sweat had left a sheen upon his brow.

  Wincing and feeling as if she shared his pain, Izzy stepped between his thighs to stop him. Stubborn fool.

  “What is it you are trying to do you big...oaf”

  “Oaf.” He laughed. “Is that the best you can do?”

  Izzy planted her hands on her hips, trying to pretend she was anywhere else but in between the muscles of his thighs. Not to mention he was only wearing a thin cotton gown. At the thought her gaze slid dangerously south only to discover something pointing very much in the direction of north.

  His unencumbered hand took her chin and lifted it. “I. Missed. You.”

  “So I see,” she whispered in an embarrassingly weak voice.

  “All of me missed you.” There was something in his voice, in the stormy sea of his eyes that she had never seen before, that made her heart leap and her insides melt. “I need you to get out my bag of clothes from the locker over there,” he instructed as his eyes remained fixed on hers.

  “You’re not planning on escaping, are you?” She eyed him dubiously.

  He shook his head slowly.

  She turned, her legs wobbly, feeling the effects of Jack, and starting rummaging through the locker. She found the only clothes in there. The ones he had been wearing during the accident. They were splattered with blood and had been cut by the medical team until they resembled expensive rags almost. Spinning on her heel to face Jack with her mouth opened in question her mouth gaped further.

  “What are you...”

  “Pass the bag over here,” he said from his kneeling position on the floor.

  “What are you doing? Are you crazy? Do you want to burst open your wound and—”

  “Izzy, pass me the bag, please.”

  “You do know you have your butt on show?” she said as she dropped the bag at his knees.

  Not that it was a problem at all, she thought as her libido drooled.

  Slowly he pulled out a small box from his trouser pocket and held it up.

  Izzy’s mouth dried as her heart pumped wildly.

  “I came back for you, Izzy. For this.”

  She watched as he used his one healthy arm to fumble with the box. She couldn’t move to help him, because her whole body had frozen.

  The lid popped open at the same time she clamped her hand over her mouth.

  “Isabel Latham, I love you with all that I am. Will you marry me?”

  She didn’t know how she managed it but somehow within a blink she was on her knees too. Their knees touching as he held out her mother’s ring.

  Jack was proposing to her!

  “I knew that if I did this I would have to find the perfect ring. Thankfully your father agreed.”

  He hadn’t ran away after all. That her father had allowed Jack to have it meant he’d also given his approval.

  She threw her arms around him and parted her lips as he kissed her with a tenderness that made her heart and body sing. Only when he emitted a small groan of pain did she remember to let go. She held the box in her hand, gazing at the simple yet beautifully perfect solitaire.

  Izzy blushed at Jack’s chuckle. He stroked his finger down her cheek, sending a shiver of awareness through her every nerve ending. She planted a firm kiss on his lips.

  “I love you, Jack.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “It’s a no.”

  Putting the ring down, she quickly cradled his crestfallen face with her palms and took his mouth softly with her lips. She couldn’t believe she’d had the strength to say no either. Hadn’t she always dreamt of this moment? But it seemed the right thing to do. They’d already had a wedding day she would remember forever. It meant everything to her that he’d asked, but the feel of his hot breath against her palm meant so much more.

  “I realized marriage wasn’t important the day I thought I’d lost you, Jack. Just like you, I only wanted to belong. I don’t need a wedding. I only need you.”

  “Then I’m all yours,” he said after an almost agonizingly long pause. To Izzy’s relief he grinned. “But I’ll be saving this for another day.” He snapped the box shut.

  She smiled at his promise. “Then I’ll look forward to it. But I’m in no rush.” She really wasn’t. “After all, we already had the best fake day.”

  After Jack had kissed her until she was breathless, she looked into his eyes, reading the promise there. It seemed to her that there would be many more best days to come.

  Epilogue

  Izzy sighed and gave a huge smile of contentment.

  Life was good. Amazingly good.

  It was a year to the day since their fake wedding and many perfect days had come along since. Jack had proposed a few times since the first time and each time she’d said no. Each time he accepted her rebuttal with the gleam of challenge in his eyes.

  The house, their house was complete. It was a home again. Jack had even had an extension added to be used as her photography studio. The only thing remaining of the past was the familiar wooden table. Just as Jack had said it had been built to last and they had proved its sturdiness on more than one occasion she remembered with a smile. Jack didn’t even mind that he was living across the road from the house had grown up in. In fact, it had been his idea to buy the property from her father.

  Her father was more than happy with that idea. Also, it was somewhere for him and Joyce to visit as often as they liked.

  And Ellie? As soon as she came back to London, Izzy had taken her and their father to the cemetery where they’d all finally talked about her mother’s death. There had been many tears, but for the first time it seemed like they’d all grieved.

  Ellie would always have a room to stay, but it was unlikely to be used now that she was so busy with her classical music tour. It seemed the media could be forgiving after all, and they loved her again now. Although her new husband kept her grounded.

  Jack hadn’t bought Daleford Hall and had been honest with Frank and Sarah about his resentment toward the family who seemed to have rejected him. They were delighted to have discovered a grandson and were becoming a big part of his life. They’d even decided not to sell now that they knew they actually did have a family to share their home with.

  Her growing belly was proof of that she thought as she climbed the ladder to the treehouse. A grinning Jack met her at the top as he helped her the rest of the way.

  Izzy paused at the top and grinned as she looked at Jack’s handiwork. Large cushions had been placed on top of a soft blanket. Her gaze darted to the corner, her attention snagged by the bright red fire extinguisher standing ready for action. The whole treehouse was bathed in candlelight.

  From behind his back Jack produced a large cake, an exact replica of the one they’d shared in Italy.

  Izzy cleared her throat. “It’s beautiful, Jack. But a bit big for the two of us to eat, don’t you think?”

  “Who says it’s for eating?” he said, arching his brow suggestively over his piercing eyes.

  “And there’s this,” he added, producing a bottle of...fizzy water. Ah yes, the bubbles. Her face heated and she marveled at how he could still make her blush.

  “Happy fakeiversary.”

  “Happy fakeiversary to you too,” she responded, giving him a grateful kiss that started out as a soft gentle kiss, but as usual, quickly stirred into a frantic need.

  Later, as they lay naked on the soft cushions with their limbs entwined as much as was possible, Jack placed his palm on her rounded belly, kissing the swell of her body, stamping his love over every inch of her. Her sensitized pregnant body couldn’t get enough of him. She couldn’t get enough of him. He reduced her to a puddle of need as his mouth took each of her breasts, gently and skillfully teasing each nipple.

/>   Izzy moaned and arched up to press against his erection.

  He stopped. “Save it for later,” he said with a chuckle. “I have something else in mind for now.”

  Whatever it was had better be good.

  “Truth or dare,” she said with a soft laugh as he produced the old bottle. “Wasn’t it that game that got us into this situation...” She dropped her gaze to her belly. “In the first place?” She suspected it was. Jack hadn’t used protection since their night at Daleford Hall. But still the night when Jack had declared himself fit after his accident had been a night spent in this treehouse until morning birdsong joined in with their passion-filled sighs and moans.

  Reminded of how lucky she was, she dropped her lips to the contours of his chest as he knelt magnificently naked and proud.

  “Is this going to be a fast game?” she teased.

  “Absolutely. In fact, one spin should do it.”

  Izzy took the bottle from his hand, giving a smug smile at the look of longing and forced control etched on his face.

  She gave the bottle a spin, her smile changing to a frown at the sound of the bottle. Of course it landed on her! She picked the bottle up and gave it a gentle shake and heard the rattling sound. Peering inside, she gasped. Her mother’s ring was inside. She turned it out onto her palm. She looked up at Jack, and the unrestrained emotion on his face took her breath.

  “Bella, will you marry me? Truth or dare.”

  “Well now,” she said on a shaky breath. “That’s a difficult decision. Each result seems to work in my benefit. The truth is I love you. And if you dare me to marry you then yes, a million times yes!”

  About Tracey Rogers

  A devourer of books from an early age, I spent much of my childhood stepping into wardrobes, searching for that magical snowy world where conversing with animals would be expected. When I wasn’t searching for those worlds, I wrote about them instead. My first step into the world of romance was when I stole sneak peeks into my nana’s books. I’m still in that world and refuse to leave.