The Doctor's Fake Fiancée

By: Victoria James



Politeness dictated he at least feign interest. And he didn’t want to be an ass. They had gone out of their way to thank him, even though he hated talking about the accident that had killed his career. “What line of work are you in?”

“My mom’s an artist!”

She smiled down at her son. “Well, actually I just do that in my spare time. I’m really a medical receptionist.”

He blinked, everything pausing for a moment before a plan appeared in his mind, complete with a time line and details. Seriously? He glanced down at her left hand. No ring. Single mom.

He looked out the window, zeroing his gaze on what had to be Grace’s car parked outside the clinic. It was a clunker. He turned to her, taking in the shabby clothes. Jobless or close to it. His heart sent blood rushing to his head. This could happen. This Grace woman and her son could be just what he needed.

He cleared his throat. “I’m actually looking for a receptionist.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Oh. Wow. Well, thank you, but the commute from Toronto every day to here would be too much.”

He nodded, thinking of a way to do this. He wasn’t a manipulator by nature. But life had handed him some pretty crappy luck lately, and he needed to find his way back to the top. There was no way in hell he’d let that position at Medcorp go to someone else while he withered away in a small-town family practice. “Right. Too bad. Would have been quite the coincidence. You helping out the man who saved you…”

Her chin wobbled, ever so slightly, and he shrugged off the guilt he felt for manipulating. “I mean of course, I could never repay you for what you’ve done, and I would love to help you out. I just don’t know how I could drive from Toronto to Red River every morning and night. And Chris is in kindergarten.”

“I don’t know anything about your circumstances, but this job starts immediately. The pay is excellent, and the cost of living in a small town is much less than Toronto.”

She frowned slightly. “Chris, why don’t you do some coloring over there,” she said pointing to the exam table and handing her son a book and crayons from her enormous bag. Christopher nodded and grabbed everything into his arms and then spread it all out on the examination table. Evan stifled his irritation that he’d now have to change the paper on the table before the hemorrhoid patient came in.

He turned to Grace and took a few steps closer to her. That’s when he noticed the depth of color in her eyes. The gorgeous, full lips. Flawless skin. He swallowed hard. He hadn’t had luck like this fall into his lap in…ever. This could work.

At the end of it, she’d get a new job and free living expenses for a few months. He knew exactly where she could live, too. Of course that would mean involving his brothers, but he was pretty sure they’d agree. Knowing them, they’d think it was a sign he was settling in Red River for good. He’d deal with his family’s disappointment later. Because other than that, it was the perfect plan. Really, he shouldn’t be feeling guilty at all. What he was about to do was practically saint-like. Then he and Grace could go their separate ways. What could go wrong?

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Um, that’s really sudden—”

“I could put you up in a house, all expenses paid, and of course you’d be very well compensated for your work here.”

“This sounds too good to be true.” She crossed her arms and looked him up and down. She was looking a little less sweet, a little less meek. “Why would you do all this for me? You don’t know me; you don’t even know if I’m really even a medical receptionist—”

He tried to look as calm as possible. The last thing he wanted was to freak her out and send her running. “Do you have a résumé? References?”

She nodded slowly. “In my car. So this is full-time work, with benefits…and a place to live?”

He nodded, waiting for that to sink in.

“How do you know I’m not married or have a boyfriend or other ties to Toronto?”

Crap. “I just assumed because you weren’t wearing a wedding band—”

“You’re right. Okay, well… Are there any other things I should know about this position?”

He glanced over at her son, making sure he was still coloring, and then lowered his voice. Well, he’d better get the rest of his plan out there. “The only other job requirement is that you pretend to be my wife.”



Grace stared at the most handsome man she’d ever met. The man who had saved their lives, and she wondered if he was insane. He didn’t give off creepy, stalker-murderer vibes, but still, a woman could never be too careful. She glanced over at Chris and didn’t even bother telling her son not to draw on the actual paper on the table and to keep it to the books. She couldn’t because right now, this Dr. Manning was telling her he needed a wife.

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