Hell, his career had been founded on loss.
But this?
This was something different.
Suddenly feeling as if his entire world was made up of destruction and death, Aiden pushed his hand through his short-cropped hair and tried to gather his thoughts.
Self-pity and drama wouldn’t help anyone, least of all the Professor. And as Sage had already made clear, finding ways to help the older man was their top priority.
“What’s the diagnosis?” he asked quietly, finally ready to hear the details.
“Stage three pancreatic,” she said hoarsely, watching her fingers twisting the fabric of her dress instead of meeting his eyes. Her way of keeping control of her emotions, he knew.
He needed to research this cancer. See what studies had been done, what treatments were offered. Perhaps there was something experimental they could explore.
But hope and a positive attitude would go further than any treatment, Aiden knew. An oncologist specializing in rare forms of cancer, his own father had shared more than one story about miracle recoveries based on nothing more concrete than optimism and faith.
“Tell me what you’ve done,” he finally said, dropping into a wing-backed chair and gesturing that he was ready to deal with whatever she could dish up.
“It all started when Nina—who just eloped, by the way—tried to fix me up with some guy,” Sage began. By the time she’d wound her way around to how her father had heard about their fake engagement at the same time he was telling her the news about his illness, Aiden was shaking his head in awe.
Despite the craziness, it actually all made perfect sense. Well, Sage sense, which was usually perfect in hindsight.
“So that’s how we ended up engaged,” she said with a deep sigh. “I’ve tried to find a way to wriggle out of it, but you’re so great in my father’s eyes that nothing I’ve said will convince him that you aren’t perfect. For me, even.”
“For you, even,” he repeated, laughing helplessly and admiring Sage’s easy acceptance of her own flaws. “Now that’s saying something.”
“It’s making him happy,” she said, looking down at her tangled fingers and giving a sigh heavy enough to break a heart. “It’s giving him hope and a purpose. I cringe every time he mentions the wedding, but he glows. How can this be a mistake if it helps him get better?”
How, indeed.
“What if he expects an actual ceremony?”
She was shaking her head before he finished the words.
“He knows I won’t get married while worrying about his health. That’d be bad juju.”
Aiden’s grimace quickly shifted to a rueful grin. Looked like all that new-agey stuff she was obsessed over might pay off.
“And the exit plan?” he asked. Never commit to a mission without a clear way out.
“When he’s better, and cleared by at least two doctors, we realize that we aren’t suited. I’m thinking we blame your career choice,” she said, batting her eyelashes and giving him a look so sexy and persuasive that he was nodding before he realized what she’d said.
“What? Why my career?”
“Because I don’t have one.” For a second, her lower lip poked out in a cute pout. “And before you suggest we blame it on me being too flighty, I’ve always been that way. He’s not going to believe you changed your mind over something that’s always been a fact.”
It took Aiden a second or two to follow that logic, but once he did, he had to admit she was right.
“Okay, fine,” he said grudgingly. “We can blame my commitment to being a SEAL. Statistics will support that claim.”
Hopefully a few of his team would beat the odds, since two were recently married and one newly engaged. But military and marriage weren’t a good bet under most odds. Factor in the added issues of Special Forces, with the extra dangers and secrecy, and the odds got a little longer.
“Ahhh, statistics,” Sage said fondly. Then she rolled her eyes. “A nice fallback and one my father will undoubtedly let himself believe. But we all know that I’m not statistically correct.”
“Are you any kind of correct?” Aiden asked in exasperation.
She pondered for a moment, her fingernail tapping on her lower lip in a way that made his mouth water.
“I’m sexually correct.”
“You do sex correctly?” he clarified before he could stop himself.
“Oh, God, no,” she said, laughing. “How boring would that be? I’m sexually correct in that I’m the perfect sexual orientation for all of my sexual preferences.”
Aiden had to sigh.
It was that, or drop his head into his hands and groan.
What was it about Sage that let her take a completely crazy statement, twist it into knots so it made perfect sense, and turn him on all at the same time?
He’d always found smart women sexy.
And Sage, God help them both, was brilliant. Twisted, flighty and very out there. But, his body insisted as it hardened in appreciation, definitely brilliant.
* * *
SAGE BIT HER LIP, trying not to laugh aloud at the frustrated expression on Aiden’s face. She’d never in a million years have allowed her imagination to venture into a scenario that had her father fighting for his life, and his battle dependent on she and Aiden pretending to be in love.
But since they were there, she was starting to think this might actually be kinda fun. Or at least, fun enough playing with Aiden to distract her from the terror dogging her every thought.
“Okay,” he said, waving his hand as if trying to erase all of her crazy comments. “Time to get serious.”
“Ahh, then you’re taking charge now,” she murmured.
He shot her a look that said she was stepping outside the serious line, and had better behave. Sage was tempted to ask if he’d spank her if she didn’t.
But she was afraid she might like his answer a little too much.
“If this is going to work we have to see it as a mission,” Aiden said, his words clipped and his tone cool. Official, she realized, leaning forward and clasping her hands together in anticipation. She’d never seen Aiden in military mode. This should be fun.
“Are you listening?” he asked, giving her a narrow look, his dark eyes assessing her seriousness.
As tempting as it was to tease him, Sage managed to keep her expression sincere. After all, she wanted this to work more than anything. Well, except for seeing him take command. That, she was really looking forward to.
“Of course I’m listening,” she said, gesturing with a finger wave that he keep it coming. “We’re on a mission. Of course, I’ve never been on a mission before. Unless you count those two months I belonged to the Commune of the Sacred Light up in Seattle and tried to convert the pescatarians to pork. You know, the other white meat.”
“I thought chicken—” Aiden cut himself off with a shake of his head, then gave her a chiding look. “Do you want us to successfully pull off this fake engagement or not? Either you call the shots, or I do.”
The tight knot that’d tangled her heart and guts so miserably the last week loosened for the first time. Not just because Aiden was home and taking charge. But because finally, here was someone who could actually distract her enough to keep from worrying every single second.
Diving into the distraction, she debated