Her Fantasy Husband (Things to do Before You Die… #2)

Her Fantasy Husband (Things to do Before You Die… #2)

Nina Croft



To Rob—my very own fantasy husband.





Chapter One


On days like today, Lexi Slater was glad she was her own boss.

Her desk was covered with a gargantuan pile of stuff, along with every other surface in her office. She had nothing on her schedule until her afternoon meeting with the Wildlife Trust people, and it was still an hour until lunch. She could clean up.

Nah.

Really, what was the point? It would only get messy again.

A sense of peace filled her. Her office was a mess and there was absolutely no one to complain about it. She kicked off her sandals, rested her bare feet on the desk—knocking off a pile of magazines in the process—and sat back.

The phone rang, and she reached under a pile of fabric samples—covers for the new beds at the rescue center—and picked it up.

“Lexi Slater here.”

Sadie’s voice came down the line, her tone hushed. “I know it’s you, Lexi. I’m your assistant, and you’d know it’s me if you let me clean your desk so you could actually see your phone.”

“A clean desk is a sign of a…” She was sure it was a sign of something.

“An organized mind?” Sadie suggested.

“Exactly, and who wants one of those?” She frowned. “Anyway, why are you phoning? And why are you whispering? Why not come in? I’m only through the door.” There was a little silence. Something was wrong. “What is it?”

“There’s someone here to see you.”

“I’m not scheduled for any meetings.”

Sadie’s voice dropped even lower. “This is definitely not a scheduled meeting.”

“Who is it?” Her mind ran over the list of possibilities.

“You’re never going to guess.”

“Sadie, I will fire you.”

“No, you won’t, because then I’d be jobless and poor and probably homeless as well. And more to the point, so would my cat.”

Lexi sighed. Why had she employed Sadie? Oh, yes, because she’d been jobless and poor and living on the street. But honestly, while she loved her dearly, she was a crap assistant. “Tell me.”

“I’m not sure if this is true, because really she looks nothing like you, but she says she’s your grandmother.”

The world stopped. No way. Then everything started moving super-fast. “Five minutes,” she squeaked into the phone. “Just give me five minutes.”

“I’ll try,” Sadie said drily.

Lexi leaped to her feet. She stared around the room for a moment in blind panic.

Oh. My. God. This wasn’t happening. Her grandmother was supposed to be in New York. She hated leaving New York, hated coming to London, claimed the city held nothing but bad memories. It had been the only thing that had allowed Lexi’s life to work over the last five years, the only way her marriage of convenience hadn’t been exposed for the lie it was.

Old habits die hard—especially ones ingrained from childhood—and she stared around her in horror.

She has no control over you. She has no control over you.

She repeated the mantra in her head, but her insides churned like they were on a roller coaster.

Why was her grandmother here?

This can’t be good.

Keep it together. She doesn’t know anything. And she won’t find out.

She opened the big bottom drawer in her desk and swiped everything off the surface and into it, then slammed it shut.

Wait.

She opened the drawer again, scrabbled beneath the rubble, hooked her fingers on the pile of photographs at the back, and dragged them out.

For a second, she stared at the top photo—her and Josh on their fourth anniversary celebratory holiday. They’d visited the Seychelles for a wonderful romantic break in the sun. Actually, she’d gone trekking in Nepal on her own, but it was amazing what Photoshop could do.

She put the picture prominently on her desk and placed the others around the room. The wedding photo. She looked so young and sort of round. But she’d hated boarding school and had spent a lot of time comfort eating. Once away from there, she’d found other comforts. The first anniversary—she’d slimmed down a lot by then, thank God. The second and third anniversary photos. They always managed to go somewhere nice.

In my fantasies.

Okay, office sorted. She glanced down at herself. There was very little she could do there. Not in the time she had. Though actually, time was irrelevant. She’d always been a disappointment to her grandmother, especially in the looks department. In a family of tall, slender women, and tall, broad-shouldered men, Lexi was a misfit.

Swapped by the hospital.