The Honeymoon Proposal

“If your grandmother really is sick, and we can make her last days happy by pretending to get married, I’d say it’s worth it.”

“Pretending to get married? Are you suggesting we lie to her?”

Matt shrugged impatiently, the simple gesture making her feel she was being unreasonable. “Does it matter? If I have a choice between lying to her and making her miserable, I’ll go with the lie. What harm could it do?”

Joanna stared at him, almost unable to believe he was really suggesting this. The idea was preposterous. It was out of the question.

She was still working on getting over Matt. Marrying him wouldn’t help the healing process.

Hannah Bernard always knew what she wanted to be when she grew up—a psychologist. After spending an eternity in university studying toward that goal, she took one look at her hard-earned diploma and thought, “Nah. I’d rather be a writer.” She has no kids to brag about, no pets to complain about and only one husband, who any day now will break down and agree to adopt a kitten.

Books by Hannah Bernard

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3762—BABY CHASE

3774—THEIR ACCIDENTAL BABY

3792—MISSION: MARRIAGE

The Honeymoon Proposal

Hannah Bernard

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

PROLOGUE

WAS it a law that the phone absolutely had to ring a few minutes after Grandma had closed her bedroom door to take a nap? Joanna lunged for the receiver, managing to snatch it up after only two rings had blared through the house. “Hello?”

“Hello, Jo.”

Matt.

Joanna’s hand clenched around the phone and she almost hung up. She’d somehow avoided him for three days—and now he’d managed to reach her at her grandmother’s house.

But Grandma was his godmother after all, it was only natural for him to be calling here.

“Hello. One moment, I’ll get Grandma.”

“Wait! I’m calling to talk to you.”

Dammit. She leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, concentrating on keeping her voice level and calm. “I see. How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t, but it was worth a try. You’re not answering your home phone, or your cell phone or your e-mail. I was running out of options.”

Jo gritted her teeth. “If Grandma had caller ID we wouldn’t be talking.”

“Believe me, Jo. I know. I was the one your neighbors threatened to call the cops on yesterday, remember?”

Joanna grinned without pleasure and headed toward the kitchen in order to get even further away from her grandmother’s bedroom. Grandma didn’t need to hear this, even if it would never escalate into a shouting match. Jo was too civilized for shouting matches. Nope, no screaming, just cool and calm conversation, icicles dripping off every word she said. “Your father called security on me at work, why shouldn’t my neighbors call the cops on you?”

A tiny sound shimmered through the line, and her nervous brain translated it into a click. Her gaze flashed in the direction of her grandmother’s bedroom. Could she have picked up the extension?

“Jo, you’re not even giving me a chance,” Matt continued, the same impatient irritation in his voice as before. He didn’t get it, did he? He didn’t have a clue about what this mess had done to her life. “Do you have any idea what I’m dealing with here? I have my hands full with the board, with the investigation, with finding out what really happened and how you got involved. It didn’t help when you stormed out, and now you’re saying we’re over and refusing to talk to me—”

“Ssshhh!” she hissed, suspicion blooming and even diverting her attention from the barb of how you got involved. There had been a click on the line. She was sure of it. “Shut up. Wait.”

“What?”

“Sssssh!”

Covering the speaker with her hand, Jo tiptoed upstairs to her grandmother’s room and listened. There was no sound. She slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. The drapes were pulled and the room was darkened, but she could make out the shape of Grandma in her bed, turned away from her with a blanket up to her neck. She stood still for a few moments, but the old lady didn’t move. The phone was within her reach, so she might have picked up and put it back down again—was the cord swaying?

No. Or if it was, it had to be a draft from the window. Grandma wasn’t the type to hide her interference, anyway. If she’d heard anything, she’d have come right out and demanded to know what was going on.

Jo pulled the door quietly shut, relieved that Grandma hadn’t been listening in. She wasn’t ready for Grandma to know she’d broken up with Matt. Grandma would ask questions. She’d probe and poke in wounds that hadn’t healed yet, and she would meddle.

Grandma would have to be told, of course, but not right now. In a few days, when she was more composed over the whole thing, Jo would tell her. Now wasn’t the right time.

“Jo?” Matt was saying when she raised the phone back to her ear. “What’s wrong?”

She hurried back downstairs to the kitchen before speaking again. “Nothing.”

“How are you doing, Jo?”

The question almost made her anger spill over, but with the self-restraint of a lifetime of practice she managed to contain it and keep her voice as calm and as chilly as a snowman’s nose. “How am I doing? You mean, apart from the fact that you ruined my life?”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” he said impatiently. “You’re overreacting.”

“I’m overreacting? I’m being melodramatic? I lost my job, had security invade my office and to top it all off, my…” Her what? What had Matt been to her? “My lover,” she ended up saying with a sardonic twist in her voice, “doesn’t even believe in me. And you’re surprised I want you out of my life?”

“I do believe in you…” Matt broke off and swore. “Why can’t you trust me? Look—I’ll come over tonight and we’ll talk. Will you please let me in this time?”

He was trying to use charm on her. It wouldn’t work. Not now, when she knew the truth about what he felt for her—when she knew he’d rather have her accused of a crime than admit they were a couple. But she wouldn’t bring that up now—bruised pride wasn’t the most comfortable emotion to have trampled on. “We’ve had this conversation before, Matt. There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not interested in having a fight.”

“You never are. Maybe that’s the problem. We need to have a real fight.”

“We don’t need anything. There is no we. If there ever was a we, we’re over. Don’t call me again. Bye.”

Matt cursed and his voice rose. “No way. This is not over, Jo—”

She didn’t hear another word, because the phone was firmly back in its cradle and her back was turned to it.

CHAPTER ONE

Five weeks later

SHE would have to see him again.

Joanna twined together curses in the most creative manner she could think of as she yanked the cordless phone off its stand and strode to the living room, to the security of the sofa, complete with an old scruffy blanket in case she needed additional comfort.

Seeing Matt again. The thought almost managed to nudge the burning worry about Grandma from her mind. Almost.

She sank into the sofa, and pulled her knees to her chest, clutching the phone in one hand. She reached for the ancient comforter lying across the back of the sofa and pulled it over her shoulders, huddling under it, suddenly feeling cold. A painful pounding in her temples had started as soon as her grandmother had made the request. She wasn’t surprised. If ever there was an occasion to get a migraine headache, this was it.

She stared at the phone in her hand, amazed that her fingers weren’t trembling. She would have to call Matt, and ask him to come over.

This was not a phone call she wanted to make. He was not a man she wanted to see again. Too much had happened, and after only five weeks the hurt and anger hadn’t even begun to fade.

But she had no choice. Grandma did want to see him. And he was her godson, her late husband’s nephew, probably her favorite person in the world.

Of course she would call him. There was no question. For Grandma, she would, even if her own personal preference was to replace that two-minute phone call with a whole afternoon of root canals. Or a casual stroll across hot coals. Or two full hours of public speaking. Or…

She gritted her teeth, realizing she was procrastinating.

She’d do it now. Right this minute while shock was still running her emotions, or courage would leap out the window into the early-evening dusk and never return. This wasn’t a big deal. It was absurd to find her heart racing in anticipation of hearing his voice again.

It was over. She was over him. “It’s over,” she muttered to herself, and it almost became the truth when she heard her own voice say the words. It was over.

She took a deep breath, and with eyes half-closed, made the call.

It was a melancholic—and annoying—discovery that she still knew his number by heart. Five long weeks had passed, but her fingers still punched the series of numbers as easily as they’d ever done. As easily as they’d done when this was the number she called just to hear his voice, when the warmth of him, the heat of his feelings for her, had seemed to reach her through the phone lines no matter what the distance was between them.

Now he was a stranger, the distance internal, emotional instead of geographical, but even more real. She needed to remember that, even as her mind recalled the way his voice used to alter the moment he heard hers, from the distracted, hurried voice of a busy businessman to the warm, loving one a man reserved for his woman.

She squeezed her eyes shut and pressed the phone hard against her ear. It was over, she repeated to herself. Now he was nothing to her, just her grandmother’s godson, a friend of the family. That was all!

Still, she was just about to lose her nerve and end the call when he picked up the phone. The sound of his voice caused her heart to halt in her chest as truth grabbed her by the nose and forced her to face reality.

Over him? Hah!

Nope, she wasn’t over him.

Not even close.

She’d almost managed to convince herself she was, but that was because she hadn’t seen him, hadn’t heard from him. Grandma had his picture on the mantelpiece, between her pictures of Grandpa and of Jo herself, but Jo had managed to tilt it ever so slightly, so his laughing green eyes didn’t mock her every time she stepped into that room.

But now his voice was in her ear, and her entire system was going crazy.

His voice sounded the same. Brisk, slightly absent, hurried, impatient when he had to repeat the hello because she didn’t respond right away, her voice having tightened and her breath hitched. She cursed herself for letting him affect her that way. It had only been a few weeks, she reminded herself. Time would fix this. Broken hearts did heal. Didn’t they?

Maybe seeing him again now, seeing him as a stranger, not hers, would be the jolt she needed. Yes. Maybe.

It could happen, right?

“Matt…I…Matt…” she croaked, then bit her lip hard. That was not what she’d meant to say. She’d meant to be cool and distant and formal, call him Matthew instead of Matt, and inform him of the situation, detached and matter-of-fact.

She closed her eyes. Instead she’d whispered his name as a reverent mantra, just as she’d done when…

No. Those memories belonged in the compost section of her brain. She didn’t want to remember. She didn’t want to remember anything of their months together, especially not the warmth of his shoulder under her lips, the surprised smile he sent her when she kissed him unexpectedly, or those mornings at his apartment, the way he’d used the extra ten minutes the snooze button gave him to wrap his arms around her and hold on tightly, whispering into her ear that it would have to last him through the entire day with her all the way on the other side of the office.

Ouch. She yanked on the short hair at her temple to punish herself. That compost heap was active today.

Maybe she should just hang up, and hope he wouldn’t know who was calling. She could get someone else to phone Matt. Grandma still had enough strength to lift a phone after all, she could probably make the call herself.

Matt’s voice changed, grew louder, as if he’d gripped the phone and pressed it closer to his face. “Hello? Jo? Joanna? Is that you?”

Joanna grimaced as she mentally crossed hanging up anonymously off her list of options. He recognized her voice. She should have expected no less, but it was still a shock to hear her name on his lips, his tone surprised and incredulous.

Not angry, but slightly wary. It had been angry before. Not at first: then, there had been only surprise, annoyance and irritation, and a whole lot of brisk efficiency as he worked to smooth things over, to get her out of the way, to hush up the issue instead of coming to her rescue. The anger hadn’t come until she’d told him it was over, that she couldn’t keep seeing someone who didn’t trust her, someone who wouldn’t stand up and admit to their relationship even when it could clear her of a crime. If you believed in me, you would stand by me, she’d told him, the pain in her heart emerging as fury disguised in cold dismissal.

Of course, what she’d really meant was that if he’d loved her, he’d have stood by her, just as she’d kept silent about their involvement until he got back—for his sake. The CEO shouldn’t be involved with one of his employees, and she wouldn’t expose him without his agreement—even though it had cost her both her job and the friendships she’d forged there.

She hadn’t minded at the time, in the certainty that he’d clear things up when he got back. If he’d trusted her—if he’d loved her, he would have.

The point was moot, of course—he’d done neither.

But this wasn’t about them. This was about Grandma.

“Jo?” Matt repeated, his voice growing impatient. “It’s you, isn’t it?”

She clenched her hand around the phone and cleared her throat. “Yes. It’s me. Hello, Matthew. I’m calling because…It’s my grandmother. I’m at her house now, I’ve been staying a few days—well, almost two weeks. She hasn’t been well lately. She wants to see you. She says she…” She paused to swallow the lump in her throat, but nevertheless the words were nothing more than a croak, betraying the tears gathering in her eyes. “Matt—she’s probably just being overdramatic, you know what she’s like sometimes, but…she says she needs to see you before she dies.”

There was silence only for a second. “I’ll be there ASAP,” he said curtly, and hung up without a goodbye.

Left with a dial tone, Jo let her hand fall to her side and pried her fingers away from the phone. She took a deep breath, not knowing if she felt relief at having this over with or panic at knowing he was on his way. Snap out of it, she ordered herself and made her way toward the guest room where her grandmother was resting. Grandma had asked to see Matt. That was the only thing that mattered.

“Is he coming?” her grandmother asked, her blue eyes just as bright and alive now as they’d ever been. She was propped up on some pillows, looking tiny in the large canopy bed, a Walkman with an audio book lying on her lap, the headphones incongruous around her narrow neck. Crossword puzzle books were heaped on the nightstand. Grandma worked hard at keeping her mind active, and she succeeded.

Unfortunately, the body was no longer cooperating. Grandma, who always took pride in getting up early, looking her best at all times and keeping herself busy throughout the day, hadn’t felt well enough to get dressed in more than a robe and slippers for a couple of weeks now. Jo had arrived for a visit almost two weeks ago, and hadn’t left since, except to go to work.

“Yes, Grandma. He’s on his way,” Jo confirmed as she sat down in her usual spot at the foot of the bed. “He said he’d be here soon.” She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Of course, he might not be here until tomorrow. He hung up so quickly, I didn’t get a chance to ask him about his definition of ASAP.” She grimaced. “Nothing new there.”

Her grandmother smiled. “I know. He works too hard, Jo. You’ll have to change that. A man doesn’t always realize the importance of spending time with his woman. Not until it’s too late. Hasn’t it been a while since you saw him last yourself?”

“Matt’s very busy,” Jo evaded, forcing a smile to her face. “But he’s on his way. You know he always makes time for his favorite old crone.”

As expected, Grandma chortled at the old joke. “Well, I hate to bother him, but I need to see that boy.” Her eyes narrowed on Joanna’s face. “There are things we need to discuss. I need to talk to him about the way he intends to treat my granddaughter for the rest of his life. I have a few ground rules. Such as spending at least some of his weekends with his woman—something he hasn’t been doing recently, has he? You didn’t leave the house all weekend and he didn’t come to see you at all.”

Joanna looked down on the bedspread, trying to hide her expression. Her omission of truth was coming back to haunt her. She still hadn’t figured out how to wriggle out of this one. “Grandma, Matt’s been very busy recently. I accept that, just as he accepts it when I’m busy. That’s life. He doesn’t need ground rules. We’re both quite happy with the way things are.”

“I’m not leaving this world without discussing you with him. You two are spending your lives together, and I have some hints and tips. I lived thirty-seven years with your grandfather, you know.” She patted Joanna’s hand. “In fact, I have plenty of tips for you on how to tame bad-tempered men.”

“Matt isn’t bad-tempered,” Jo said, shocked to find a small smile pull at her lips. “He’s stubborn and always tends to think he’s right, but he doesn’t have a bad temper.”

“He has a strong control of his temper, but he also has strong emotions,” Grandma muttered. “A roaring lion when it comes to protecting his woman, just you wait and see.”

Protecting his woman. Jo’s smile faltered. That was one thing Matt hadn’t done, and the truth of it was a constant sting somewhere inside. Grandma was right—Matt would stop at nothing to protect his woman. It all went to show she’d never been his. Not in the way that really counted.

“The most important thing is always to make time for just the two of you,” Grandma whispered, as if sharing the deepest confidence. “Arrange baby-sitting, and make sure you have regular quality time together.”

“Baby-sitting?”

“I know I’m getting ahead of myself here, you probably want an engagement and a wedding before the babies—and I don’t disagree, but I don’t have much time to impart all my hard-earned wisdom, so there you are.”

“You have plenty of time,” Joanna said firmly, trying to keep her fear from showing. Her grandmother was convinced death was on the other side of each breath. The doctor just shrugged. At her age, anything was certainly possible, he’d said, but there was nothing immediately terminal in her condition. However, he had confided in Jo, in his experience, people often sensed these things.

And Grandma’s conviction was contagious. Even now, she just smiled indulgently at Joanna’s objection. “No, I don’t, girlie. I don’t mind, and I hope you don’t plan on spending too much time grieving for me. I’m sure the other side is more fun. I’ll hold a spot for you and Matt.”

“We still need you on this side, Grandma. Don’t even think about opening that door.”

“I’m not. Not until I’ve talked to my Matt. Is the house clean?”

Joanna felt her frown crumble into a reluctant smile. Sometimes her grandmother’s mind was very predictable. “Yes, Grandma. The house is clean. We have nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Good. We don’t want Matt to think we’re slobs, do we?”

“He won’t.”

Her grandmother sighed, and laid her head back against the pillow. “I’m so useless these days,” she muttered. “I need a nap again. You’ll bring Matt here the minute he arrives, Joanna, won’t you?”

“Of course.” Joanna kissed her grandmother’s cheek and stood up. “You just ring the bell if you need anything.”

Grandma muttered something, already half asleep. Jo made sure the bell was within reach and tiptoed out of the room.

She was tired. Her grandmother wasn’t a lot of work. She could take care of her own basic needs, and only required Joanna to provide food and company, but her constant talk of dying was draining. And there wasn’t anyone else to help. Her mother and father were somewhere in Africa shooting one of their documentaries.

Joanna ambled into the kitchen and started cleaning up. Grandmother was probably worried that Matt might think she wasn’t perfect housewife material, she thought wryly. She was funny that way. With all her insistence that her only grandchild go to college and get a good education, she nevertheless expected her to choose a career as a wife and mother as soon as she found a husband.

She wished again she’d asked Matt when he was likely to be here. With his busy existence, ASAP could mean anything from minutes to weeks.

After making sure everything was up to her grandmother’s standard, Joanna hung around in the kitchen and living room, the two rooms facing the front of the house. She was hoping to catch Matt before he rang the doorbell and woke the old woman up. There were things he needed to know. She needed to talk to him before he talked to his godmother, explain why Grandma still didn’t know.

Long before she had realistically expected him, his car was stopping in the driveway, headlights beating their way through the rain. Joanna’s heart started pounding and she felt her palms dampen as she clenched her fists at her sides. He still had the same car. Of course, she should have expected it—it wasn’t much over a month since she’d sat in that car herself, but somehow she’d expected things to change as much as her life had changed.

She stood in the shadow of the curtains by the window and watched him step out of the car. He glanced up at her grandmother’s bedroom window as he slammed the door shut and strode toward the front door. He looked grim and tired.

Joanna opened the door, the darkness of the unlit foyer giving her some protection at least, and sent him a smile that was supposed to be cool and sophisticated, but somehow ended up wobbly and fake instead. Matt didn’t smile, and she found herself missing the grin he’d usually greeted her with. He nodded curtly as he entered the house, his eyes raking over her once from the top of her head to her toes and back up.

“Hello, Jo,” he said, unsmiling, and she stepped back, the shock of being so close to him again confusing her senses and making her head spin. The warmth of him almost seemed to reach out toward her and despite everything that had happened, the instinctive longing to step into his arms and feel them close around her was almost uncontrollable.

It was also hateful.

He hadn’t changed since she’d seen him last. The dark hair, now glinting with raindrops, was the same. The green of his eyes was still hypnotizing, even when filled with fatigue and wariness instead of love and humor.

Of course he hadn’t changed, she castigated herself. People didn’t change in just a few weeks. Not unless some life-altering event happened to them, something that took their life, their existence, and turned it upside down.