Rating/Warning(s)/Note(s): T, Duplicity (Thanks to MaraBenefici for the name!)
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Prompt: Morning

Waiting for the elevator to open to carry me down one floor to my doom I found myself wishing I had just called in sick when I overslept this morning. The doors flew open, startling me. Looking into the car, I breathed a sigh of relief when it was empty. That relief was short-lived, for upon reaching the bottom floor they opened to the piercing green eyes that had so coldly regarded me this morning. Now, they seemed…amused?

"Bella!" my mother cried, launching herself into my arms to hug me. "Oh, you're a sight for sore eyes." Holding my head in her hands she kissed me soundly on the cheek before stage-whispering, "He's quite good-looking! And so charming!" There was sniggering in front of me. One look over my mother's shoulder showed Edward rolling his eyes while his brother and sister laughed. His father seemed concerned, his mother and brother-in-law smiling, but his sister-in-law's look was almost murderous.

"Mrs. Dwyer," Edward crooned, "may I borrow Bella for a minute? There's something I've left in my office."

"Of course," she giggled, "just don't spend too long making out up there. I'm hungry!"

"Mother!" I hissed, mortified, but Edward just chuckled.

"We won't be too long," he reassured her, taking my elbow to hold me in the elevator. "Will we honey?"

"No?" I asked, petrified over what was coming. With one last smile at the group huddled around the elevator he pushed the button for his floor. As soon as the doors closed he released my arm and stepped away, leaning on the far wall and crossing his arms across his chest. The smile was replaced with a contemplative look, one eyebrow raised in question, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

What felt like the world's longest elevator ride finally came to an end, the doors opening with a ding and making me jump. He took hold of my elbow again and directed me in front of him, slowing down as I hobbled on my bad ankle, past the conference room where he had yelled at me this morning, down a long hallway, stopping in front of the door to his office. After fishing the key from his pocket and unlocking the door he guided me to a chair. "Please be seated," was all he said before walking around his desk and sitting in his chair.

Then it was silent again. Occasionally I would peek up from where I was memorizing the pattern on the rug, my face burning, to see him watching me. There was a clock somewhere in his office, the seconds ticking away loudly, but my eyes only went the two places, and his face was only for no more than a second each time.

"How long have we been dating?" he asked, breaking the silence and making me jump.

"A little over six months," I whispered.

"And when did I propose?" Amusement was in his voice, as if he couldn't believe such a thing was possible.

"Why don't you just fire me?" I whispered. "I'm so sorry for the embarrassment I've caused, I never thought my mother would find you, she lives in Arizona! I just wanted her to quit harassing me over not dating."

He chuckled. "Are you through?" When I nodded he sighed, the squeaking of his chair indicating movement. "Please look at me," he asked softly, and was quiet until my eyes found his. "Thank you," he said a couple minutes later. With a wry smile he ran his hand through his hair, and grabbed a paper on the side of his desk and threw it over in front of me. "Please read this," he commanded.

With a trembling hand I reached out for the paper. It was the gossip section of the Seattle Times, the headline read, 'Seattle's Most Eligible Bachelor Never Seen Dating, Could He Be Gay?' My eyes traveled down the article; it spoke of Edward, how he was a hermit, never seen in public with a woman, and saying that perhaps it was time he came out of the closet. It detailed his family, wealth, position, salary, and that the last time a woman had been seen on his arm she turned out to be his cousin, Tanya, fresh off of a break-up of her own. The speculation of his sexual orientation was put forth continually, although a small sentence at the end stated he'd never been seen with any guys except family members.

"Are you?" I asked, getting a snort of derision in response.

"Of course not, I've just never met anyone interesting enough to date."

His reply made me laugh, a cold, worried chuckle. "Me neither, that's why I made up the story. You were nice to me at the Christmas party, and my mom called that night to ask if I'd met anyone." My perusal of the carpet ended as I looked into his curious, beautiful eyes. "I'd met you, so I told my mom that. Before I knew it, just to keep her happy, I was concocting an entire relationship."

"Maybe you should share this relationship with me," he said, tenting his fingers over his nose as he looked at me.

"Why?"

"Do you see who wrote the article?" I shook my head and looked down to read the byline. Jessica Stanley, I'd seen her name and picture on buses. The blush that had been burning through my face evaporated as once again the blood drained from my face. I'd seen her tonight, standing next to Carlisle. "I see you know the problem now? I'd hate for your name to be slandered. No doubt, your mother is down there right now, regaling my unknowing parents with stories of our dates. I do hope they are things I would do, because Miss Stanley's tape recorder is probably picking up every word."

"Oh, crap," I moaned, burying my head in my hands. "Just fire me now. I don't care if you tell them I lied. I'm so sorry."

The next thing I knew he was in front of me, pulling my hands away from my face. "Miss Swan. Bella, you can help me." With my eyes trained on him it was my turn to lift an eyebrow in question, a look that made him laugh. He took my hands in one of his and rolled his eyes as he stood, pulling me up with him. "Here's the truth, you are a very pretty girl, and an extremely smart one. I may be in trouble with my dad, but if you continue to go along with this, we'll get your mom, my entire family, and the horrible Miss Stanley, off our backs about marriage."

"You…you, want to marry me? Are you insane?" Ripping my hands from his I stepped back, onto my bad ankle at an angle that sent spikes of pain up my leg. With a cry I collapsed, but the floor never found me. Instead I was held against a very warm, very hard chest that was vibrating with laughter.

"You're rather clumsy, aren't you?" His arm swept under my legs, lifting me to place me gently in the chair. This time he took the seat next to mine. "Look, let's just try it. If you can't stand me in a couple years, then we'll get a divorce. I'll sign a pre-nup that if we divorce then you get a minimum of five million dollars in alimony."

"I don't want your money," I said, affronted. "I'm not a prostitute!"

"Hmm, I suppose we should talk about sex, have we done that yet?"

"No!"

"We're engaged and haven't had sex?" he seemed confused. "Why not?"

My face was burning again and the carpet was once more much easier to look at. "Because, when you found out I was a virgin you said you wanted to wait, to make it special. It was something we fought about." My hands were back over my face.

He sat back quickly in his chair. When I glanced up it was to see his eyes open wide. "And are you a virgin?" When I nodded, once again looking down, he asked, "How old are you?"

"Twenty-five." Looking up again I could see he was shocked. "It wasn't for lack of offers, just none of the guys I've dated have ever appealed to me. Especially not enough to do that with them."

The phone on his desk rang, stopping him from saying something. His brusque answering of it, followed by a quick apology gave me an idea of who it was. "We'll be right down," he finished, hanging it up. "They're expecting us. That was my father." He placed both hands on the desk and sighed before looking up at me again. "So, are we doing this?" he asked, "Because I'm game."

Without knowing how it happened my head nodded. "Good, I do hope this fits," he replied, opening a drawer. "This was my grandmother's ring, but neither Rosalie nor Alice wanted it. If you aren't opposed, would you mind wearing it?" I found myself rising from the chair, hobbling around it to where he stood holding out an old, black velvet box. Opening it I found a beautiful ring with many small diamonds, a lace of fine gold threads wove over the top. It was better than any I had ever dreamed of. Nodding once again he took my hand and slipped it onto my ring finger. "Oh, good, it does fit." It felt like a ton weighing on my finger.

The third wrenching of my ankle just moments before made it next to impossible for me to walk back to the elevator. I suggested him pushing me in a chair, but he just rolled his eyes and picked me up in his arms again. As the numbers ticked down he looked at me askance. "I suppose there is something else we should do," he said, his eyes darting to my lips.

"What?" I asked, trembling, fearful that I knew.

"This," he whispered, then lowered his lips to mine. As soon as they touched my blood boiled within, sending shock waves of desire through me. He spun around, pressing my body against the wall of the elevator as his lips devoured mine, a groan coming from him, or me, or both of us. My fingers threaded up through his hair, holding him in place. When his tongue lightly danced across my lower lip I moaned and opened to him, blown away by his taste.

A loud, and upset, "Edward!" followed by a flash of light told us that the doors to the elevator had opened. Pulling away from me I could see a look of pleased surprise on Edward's face and hear my mother's giggle in the background. I was blushing furiously again, and buried my head in his shoulder.

"Edward, put her down," Carlisle demanded, and I could hear the overtones of disapproval.

"I can't, she's sprained her ankle," he said with a chuckle, as if he was pleased with the excuse. "I'll just carry her to my car. Mrs. Dwyer, would you like to ride with Emmett? My car is a two-seater. I'm feeling rather hungry. Emmett, please take Mrs. Dwyer's luggage?"

Glancing over I saw Emmett's mouth slowly close as his eyes lit up. "Will do bro. See you at the restaurant." He reached over and grabbed my mother's bags, called to the others, even inviting Miss Stanley to ride with him and Rosalie, and followed us out.

How we were going to make it through dinner was beyond me.

These two seriously won't shut up! I go to bed thinking about them, wake up thinking about them. Hopefully, when they've had their fill, I'll remember where I was with my other stories. But for now, I'll try to get them out of my head.