Читать книгу The Secret Twin - Catherine Mann - Страница 11
ОглавлениеWard was a man of action and swift decisions.
And he saw that this was the perfect opportunity to keep Brea in his sights—as his “girlfriend.” Now he just needed to get Brea away from her family ASAP to convince her that he was right before she denied they were dating and blew up the whole charade.
“I’ll be right back, after I see Brea to her car so she’s not late for her dental appointment.” Ward filled the stunned silence so he could direct the conversation. “Go ahead and get started without me. I’ll catch up.”
With a quick nod, he hustled her toward the elevator, as fast as possible, before the stunned Steeles and Mikkelsons could start asking questions. As he walked quickly down the corridor, thank heaven, she stayed at his side, for whatever reason. Shock? Curiosity? Or... Who knew what went on inside that woman’s mind.
The minute the elevator door closed them inside, Brea stomped her foot, leveling him with eyes as dark as fire-hot coals. “Have you lost your mind? What the hell was that all about back there?”
He tapped the stop button, halting the elevator midfloor. “That was about keeping you close to my side. The snooping has to stop. At least while you’re pretending to be my girlfriend, I can watch you.”
Her eyes widened in shock. “You can’t be serious. You actually expect me to pretend to be your girlfriend so you can keep tabs on me? And you think people will believe that we’ve been secretly dating?” She shook her head quickly, restlessly turning away, then back to him again. “You have got to be kidding.”
“I’m dead serious.” That much was true. His job was everything to him. He would not be made a laughingstock by a snoop who should just talk to her family...unless she had some darker motive. In which case, she should be kept under close scrutiny. He would be the one to take on that task because he was in charge. And yes, because of attraction crackling between them like sparks showing from a blazing fire. “I’m single. There are events I need to attend with a plus-one. This also saves me time.”
“That’s an absurd excuse.” Her voice went higher with frustration. “Be real. What could you have to gain from this charade? If you’re that worried about little ole me, why not just install some security cameras?”
“You’re right. I could up the security system to watch every inch of any space we control on the off chance I catch you getting up to something.” He paused, and then pointed out logically, “And then, if I were successful, your dad and your siblings would forever see me as the person who revealed their princess to be an evil queen. This way, I can be more proactive.”
“Princess? Evil queen? You’re weird.” Sighing, she furrowed her brow. “How is that different from catching me at something while I’m your pretend girlfriend?”
“I’m not weird. Just logical. If I’m watching you, you won’t have a chance to be in that position. Besides, you’ll get to stick close to me. And since you seem to be there every time I turn around, I have reason to believe that must hold some kind of appeal for you, too.” He tugged her ponytail, testing the silky texture between his fingers, imagining it spread out over the pillow next to him. “And yes, there’s more in it for me than just a plus-one for events. As a bonus, I gain acceptance by the board of directors. Being with you makes me a de facto member of the family.”
Her eyebrows shot up in horror. “We are not getting married just to lock down your new job in the company.”
“Of course not. I’m not that Machiavellian.” He smoothed her silky ponytail back along her shoulder, her pupils widening with awareness at his touch. “But by the time that would be an issue, you and I can break up.”
“I’m not dating you for that long.” Then she rushed to add, “I’m not dating you at all. Start the elevator.”
Ah, she’d mentioned dating. He was making progress. And that filled him with a surge of success. And desire. “We would only go out for a month, until the vote at the next general board meeting for all the shareholders.”
She hesitated, worrying her bottom lip. “Then we just...what? We break up?”
He pulled his eyes off her moist lips.
“That’s how it works, yes. You can even dump me.” He winked, taking heart in her light chuckle. “And by all means, make it public and humiliating, in front of your entire family and all my friends—”
“You have friends?” Her deadpan words didn’t match the hint of amusement in her eyes.
“I do.” He nodded, leaning in such a way that he blocked the elevator buttons. Before long, someone would start it again, but he intended to make the most of their time alone for now. “I have to pay them to be my friends. But they stay loyal as long as I deliver the roll of quarters each week.” Which wasn’t totally true. He didn’t have many friends, not even paid ones. He wasn’t the sort to hang out with buddies. He was too busy working until midnight.
She scrunched her nose. “You really are weird.”
“Maybe.” He was certainly a workaholic. Although, so was most of her family. It was one of the reasons he now held this CEO position. “But the offer for you to dump me in a billboard fashion stands.”
“How generous of you. Maybe I’ll get one of my siblings to fly a seaplane with a banner.” She lifted her chin, jaw jutting with signature Steele confidence that no amount of years away could erase.
“Trust me, my ego can take it.”
She studied him for a moment, her exotic eyes narrowing. “Then what’s in it for me?”
“Aside from getting to dump me? Isn’t that entertainment and payment enough?” He thumped himself on the chest in faux shock.
She rolled her eyes. “While that is an enticing proposition, I’m going to need a little more before I sign on to this plan.”
He straightened, ditching the humor and closing the deal. “You’ll keep me from ratting you out about being in my office. And you’ll get more access to your family with me as an excuse for you to be in and out of this office.”
“I’m listening.” She waved him on, leaning a slim shoulder against the mirrored elevator wall. “Continue...”
Her sweater pulled snug across her breasts as she folded her arms. His gaze followed the curve of her hip, which was cocked to one side. She drew him in, no doubt.
“I can be a buffer between you and your family.” Which would give him the chance to gauge her motivations. No way was he going to let her tank this company. He’d always been a driven individual at work. But even more so now. His career was all he had left, and he refused to allow any threat to his professional reputation. “If you’re feeling stressed or uncomfortable, cue me and we can leave.”
“Or I could just walk out if they upset me.”
He liked the confidence in her voice. But he also knew the situation with her family was far more complicated than that. “You could. But having a buffer so you could make a speedy, nonconfrontational exit would be easier.”
“How so?” She looked skeptical.
“We come up with a safe word. If you say it in casual conversation, that lets me know you want to leave. I’ll find an out so you don’t have to make awkward excuses on the spot.”
“Safe word?” Her eyebrows shot upward.
“Bear with me,” he said. “I had this uncle who was a preacher. His wife used to get stuck at long functions and meals. So she came up with a conversational gimmick that let her husband know she needed to leave. Immediately.”
“What was their word?”
“Words. Anchors aweigh. Which is technically two words, but you get the gist.” Stifling a grin, he imagined his aunt working the safe word into their conversation.
A smile twitched at her lips, mesmerizing him. “That’s a strange phrase.”
“It worked.” He enjoyed seeing her lighter hearted. He didn’t want a real relationship, not after his bitter divorce, but he couldn’t deny he was enjoying the banter. And she was smoking hot, to boot.
A part of him was hoping she’d say yes to this for more than just reasons related to her family. He couldn’t deny he was drawn to her. And since he was going to be leading this company, he needed to work through the attraction to her sooner rather than later. Issues left unaddressed became distractions.
And she was already a major distraction.
“Okay then. What do you suggest?”
He thought for a moment, his eyes landing on a framed painting of a home with stone figureheads worked into the architecture. “Gargoyle.”
“Gargoyle?” She burst out laughing.
Tension faded from her expression to be replaced by a smile that knocked the air from his lungs. Damn, she was a beautiful woman. Pulling his attention off her delicate features and back on the task at hand, he took heart in making progress with her.
He’d been in business long enough to know when he’d closed the deal. “Do we have an agreement?”
Her eyes narrowed, but her smile didn’t fade. “Just until the next general board meeting.”
“One month,” he said, confident now that he could win her over to extending their time together if needed. For now he’d made major progress. He was going to be able to watch over her. And if she was up to something, he would find out what.
And he had to admit, spending time with her wouldn’t be a hardship in the least. She drew him with everything from her sexy curves to the sweep of her eyelashes when she cast a glance his way... She was definitely a distraction he needed to work out of his system.
“So, this is just pretend?”
“As long as you say so. And if you’re ever uncomfortable, just remember.” He winked, tapping the start button on the elevator. “Gargoyle.”
* * *
Even five hours later, in her new one-bedroom apartment, Breanna’s brain was still reeling from Ward’s surprise proposition. Sure, he was smart, sexy, and powerful, and while all of that drew her in, she’d been holding strong.
Until she’d been knocked off-balance by his surprise sense of humor.
She should have put up more of a fight. Or extracted additional tradeoffs. But she’d been unsettled by being caught in his office, and then unexpectedly seeing her family, all of which had lowered her defenses.
Checking her emails on her phone now, she leaned against the cool counter space. The granite pressed into her skin as she skimmed her inbox to see if any of her clients needed anything. As a virtual shopper for those who were homebound or in need of help, her hours were a little inconsistent. No new emails since she’d checked an hour ago, which meant she could turn her attention back to the blueberry and raspberry muffins she was baking, needing to do something productive since she hadn’t managed to find anything useful on the flash drive yet.
Frustration filled her. She forced herself to focus on the routine of baking. Grounding herself in the moment. Muted light filtered in through the windows, dappling the dark wood floors and small kitchen area.
She was so grateful to have found this space for her time here in Alaska while she sifted through the rubble of her past. Her uncle’s new wife—Felicity Hunt Steele—had offered this space to sublet. Other Steele relatives had suggested Brea stay with them, but the stress of that was more than Brea could wrap her head around.
A chirp of the kitchen timer in the shape of a plump, plucky hen snapped Brea to attention. She grabbed the gold polka-dot oven mitt from the kitchen counter and peeked into the oven. A wave of warmed-berry scent rode the air, escaping through the open oven door. Such a sweet scent. It made her stomach growl in anticipation. A memory flashed through her mind of berry picking with her siblings and parents, of her dad telling her to avoid the white berries, which were poisonous.
She swallowed hard before the past could swamp her with too many recollections at once. The faster they came, the tougher it was to gauge which ones were real.
A dish towel in hand, she pulled the muffins from the pan, one by one. Since she’d shed her disguise as Milla Jones and returned to Alaska last month, she’d been spending controlled amounts of time with her family. Always with others present, including her uncle’s new wife, who was a social worker.
Felicity had even given Brea a list of therapists. Not necessarily to facilitate a reunion. But to make sure she kept a clear head and didn’t get hurt. Brea had called numbers on that list until she found a counselor she was comfortable with, one who could help her.
She wasn’t sure if she would reconcile with her family or not, but she needed some semblance of peace with her past before she could move on with the future. She’d known that on some level when she’d come to Alaska, posing as Milla Jones.
And how did her attraction to Ward play into that? It was a dangerous distraction. She would have to keep a close guard on her hormones around this man.
A rapid knock caused her door to shudder, startling her. Rattling awake other memories she did her best to keep locked up in the corners of her mind.
Her gut clenched with tension. She’d spent so many years in that minimalist, off-the-grid community, she still wasn’t used to having such a cluttered world. She walked from her kitchen, through the living area to the front door. She peered through the keyhole...and sighed with relief.
Felicity stood with Tally Benson, Felicity’s friend and the woman who was dating Marshall Steele. These two were easy company, since they weren’t a part of her past. Brea clicked through all three locks and opened the door.
“Hello,” Felicity said, holding up a basket full of pampering bath items—salts, a loofa and towels. She had a way of taking care of everyone, perhaps something to do with her chosen career as a social worker. “We’ve brought housewarming gifts.”
Tally carried a wicker laundry hamper. “All natural cleaning supplies, just for you.”
While trust was difficult, these two women were the only ones Brea had met since her return whom she felt at least partially comfortable with. Although, her relationship with Tally was still complicated. Tally’s father had been the mechanic who worked on the airplane before the crash. He’d committed suicide because of his guilt over what had happened. No one yet knew the full extent of the details of the crash, and Tally’s father had taken his secrets to the grave. But at least the man’s name offered a place to start searching for answers.
“Thank you so much,” Brea said, touched by their kindness, and a little overwhelmed too, especially with the berry-picking memory still so fresh in her mind. “Um, please come inside.”
Felicity hesitated. “Are you sure we’re not imposing?”
Brea laughed softly. “Of course I’m sure, not that I would turn you away. It is your condo and you’ve been kind enough to sublease it to me for next to nothing.”
“You’ve done me a favor,” Felicity said without hesitation. “Now I’m able to live with Conrad without this place hanging over my head unused.”
Brea gestured for the duo to come into the apartment, appreciating the down-to-earth nature of both of these women. “The gifts are lovely. You two didn’t have to do this.”
“Conrad sends his thanks as well for the help with my lease,” Felicity called over her shoulder as if they all didn’t already know Conrad Steele could have paid the rent for her apartment multiple times over. Felicity continued to work at the local hospital, where she’d been today, and her hair was still swept back in a French twist. “You can soak out the tension.”
Tally strode past, her red ponytail swishing. Felicity had taken her under her wing not too long ago. Tally had been a housekeeper and now attended college on a scholarship to become a social worker, as well. “If you need any help, just call me.”
Felicity set the basket on the coffee table, cellophane wrapping crinkling. “Although, for the record,” she said with a smile and an elegantly arched eyebrow, “I did leave the place spotless.”
“You did,” Brea agreed, chewing her bottom lip. It seemed so surreal to have the two women move so effortlessly into her life. Making friends was hard for her after all she’d been through. Even though the small Canadian community had been welcoming, her adoptive parents had been guarded with others. She’d been alone, not even sure she could trust her own instincts, for a long time. Being told that her biological family was deeply corrupt. She was safer away from them. “Thank you for coming over. Both of you. Could I offer you something to drink?”
“Well, actually—” Tally paused, unloading the cleaning supplies and stowing them under the kitchen sink “—we did have another reason for coming by.”
Brea’s stomach knotted with nerves. Closing the front door was tough, especially when she wanted to run. “What would that be?”
Felicity pinned her with a knowing gaze. “When did you start dating Ward Benally?”
Brea exhaled with relief that they weren’t going to grill her about her past. Only to have her nerves return with a vengeance over the mention of her fake boyfriend.
Her very sexy, surprisingly charming fake boyfriend.
She really wasn’t ready for fielding questions about Ward.
“The relationship started very recently.” Very. Very. Recently.
“Well, I’m not surprised at all.” Tally pulled out a barstool from behind the counter and sat, her boot heels resting on the lowest rung. “I noticed the chemistry between the two of you at the fund-raiser last month.”
Had it been obvious even then? Brea had felt the sparks, but she’d liked to think she’d hidden her reaction. Apparently not.
Felicity leaned over to look at the baked goods. “Was that when it started, at the fund-raiser?”
Brea hmmed, taking a bite to fill her mouth and avoid talking. Too bad no one was around who could help if she shouted gargoyle. “Anyone want a muffin?”
Tally pulled napkins from a counter holder. “Yes, please. Although I do hear you trying to change the subject. I imagine you’re wondering how much you can trust the two of us.”
True, but not the sort of thing Brea expected to hear voiced aloud.
“Although—” Felicity broke a muffin in half, then pinched off a bite “—that’s an unwinnable proposition, since no matter what we say, there’s really no way to prove you can trust us at this point. Trust takes time.”
How long? Brea wished she knew. “Spoken like a counselor.”
“Because I am one.” Felicity swept up a crumb into her hand and then into the sink. “For what it’s worth, Tally and I are both new to the Steele family realm. As such, we weren’t a part of the old days, the old problems and whatever happened then. But we’re here for you now and want to be your friends, as well as family.”
Brea wanted to believe that. “I’m still getting to know everyone again.”
“Give it time.” Felicity squeezed her hand.
Tally scrunched her freckled nose, grinning. “And while you’re giving it time, tell us... Does Ward kiss as incredibly as it seems he would?”
Brea felt the heat steal up to her face. That particular topic was occupying far more of her thoughts than it should. Her cell phone dinged with an incoming text and Brea embraced the excuse to step away from the intense conversation. She wanted—needed—a chance to regain her footing. “Excuse me for a moment. I need to check that.”
She raced to scoop her phone off the coffee table and turned her back on the two women, who seemed content to snack on their muffins. She thumbed the text open to find...
A message from Ward.
Butterflies launched inside her. She shouldn’t feel this excited, but she did. And she couldn’t afford to be distracted by hormones, not when she finally had a real chance at the answers she craved.
Then she read his message, and it was as if the floor fell away beneath her feet.
I’ll be by at seven to pick you up for supper with the Steeles. Be ready to help me make nice with all your family members on the board.
So much for keeping a lock on her emotions. Her body was already on fire at just the thought of seeing him again.
* * *
Ward knew he was pushing it with the impromptu dinner out with the Steeles. But he’d wanted to see Brea, and this was the fastest, easiest way to lock that down. He didn’t want to think overlong about how damn much he looked forward to seeing her. Better to keep it simple. This was a short-term thing between them. He was married to his work.
So he could just enjoy the moment, and yes, this potential for a fling. By the time she figured out he had set up the get-together, it would be too late. She would already be sitting at the table.
Would she be mad?
Almost certainly.
Was she sexy when riled up?
Absolutely.
He’d been surprised by how much he wanted to see her again. How his intentions had shifted so quickly from wanting to keep an eye on her to wanting to follow through on their attraction. Now he saw that his dating idea had no doubt sprung from the heat that flared whenever they were near each other. But if that played out into a fling, he could handle it. His emotions were locked down tight after the number his ex had pulled on him.
He guided his SUV through the night, headlights striping bands of illumination into the snowy air ahead, Brea in the passenger seat, quiet since he’d picked her up. Likely there were other ways to keep watch over her, but this was far more...entertaining.
Snowflakes sprinkled down, glinting in the beams. Brea looked stunning sitting beside him in a royal-blue wool coat and black leather boots. Her hair was draped over one shoulder in an appealing onyx waterfall. She sat so still and regal, he would have thought her unaffected by this evening together if not for the way she picked at her short fingernails.
Low music played from the speakers, his playlist of classical guitar music.
Brea sighed heavily.
He stifled a grin. “You seem angry, my dear.”
“My dear?” She turned in her seat toward him, the dash lights casting her face in seductive shadows. “Are you serious? No one’s watching us.”
“But you are my dear, new girlfriend.” Flicking his eyes from the road, he met her eyes.
“Fake girlfriend. And since no one’s around, let’s make some ground rules.”
“Such as?” He gripped the leather steering wheel as he accelerated. The sound of the exhaust mingled with the few other trucks on the road.
“You could start telling me about these plans of yours—the whole dating thing and going to the family dinner—earlier than a few minutes ahead of time.”
He didn’t bother noting that he’d given her a few hours to prepare. He got her point. “If I had given you too much advance notice, would you have come along?”
“You’ll never know, will you? You didn’t give me the chance to decide.” She crossed her arms, head turning away from him to look out the window at the snow lightly falling from the sky.
“I do know,” he retorted without hesitation. Then felt the need to own up to planning this. His gut served him well in business. He would think of this arrangement with her like business. “If I’d made the reservations for later in the week, you would have come up with excuses.”
“That’s my right.”
“Yes, it is.” SUV idling at a stoplight, he waited, knowing she would come to the obvious conclusion.
“All right, but if I decline, then I don’t get the inside scoop on my family. Fine.” She huffed in exasperation. “So how about from now on, you give me the opportunity to say yes or no and see what happens.”
“Fair enough. I will take that under consideration.”
Mouth twitching into a satisfied smile, he approached the one-story brown cottage, which had been turned into a restaurant, more eager for her approval than he wanted to admit.
The historic brown building with cream trim seemed bright against the gray backdrop of February skies. Guiding the SUV into the parking lot, he readied himself for this next encounter.
A favorite place of his. Simple from the outside, like a small home, but the restaurant boasted top-notch Alaskan seafood cuisine, the menu changing weekly. With only a dozen tables, it offered an intimate setting. He’d booked the place for the entire night to avoid prying eyes as they became comfortable with other.
He passed the keys to the valet and joined Brea under the covered walk leading to the front door. He clasped her elbow to make sure she didn’t slip, even though the path had been shoveled and salted. The simple touch launched a wave of heat through him. Her quiet gasp told him she wasn’t immune either. The pace of her breathing increased, puffing tiny clouds of air into the night.
He paused outside the door, turning to face her, her eyes locking with his. He lifted a curl of her hair and stroked the length of it, testing the silky texture between his fingers. Her eyes went wide with awareness. He understood the draw well.
More than this ruse, than her family, it was that draw that had brought them both here tonight.
The door swung wide, a host greeting them with a smile as the warmth gusted out. “Welcome to Chez Louis, Mr. Benally. Most of your party has arrived. They’re enjoying drinks in the lounge. Ma’am, if I could take your coat?”
The small crowd of Steeles and Mikkelsons already filled the dining area, most of them standing beneath vintage antler chandeliers. Conversation wafted over in murmurs.
No sooner had Ward and Brea passed off their coats than his date bolted away, under the guise of talking to Felicity and Delaney. The duo stood by a crackling fire, sipping wine. Waitstaff walked from person to person, offering roasted-eggplant pâté on pita bread and gnocchi with cambozola and red crab. Another waiter flourished a tray with Alaskan oysters and Neapolitan seafood mousse.
But Ward’s attention was still on Brea. His smile faded. He didn’t want to frighten her. When he’d roped her into this pretend relationship, he’d been so focused on protecting the company, he hadn’t thought much about what she’d been through, losing her family, for all intents and purposes kidnapped. He needed to weigh his next move carefully to protect the business. And yes, to protect this woman too, if she was somehow as vulnerable as she’d looked in that flash before she’d retreated.
A tap on the shoulder had him looking away to turn and find Broderick Steele, Brea’s oldest brother. “We need to have a talk. Are you actually dating my sister?”
“Why is that a question? I already announced that we are, and we came here together.” Had Brea said something to tip off her brother? Ward studied the man in front of him—the eldest Steele was a carbon copy of his father.
“You barely know her,” Broderick said. “She’s hardly speaking to our family. We don’t know if we can trust her. Shall I keep listing the reasons why this seems like the strangest relationship ever?”
Broderick was sharp from years in the boardroom.
But so was Ward.
“She’s an attractive woman.” His gaze landed on her all over again, enjoying the way she looked in her red sheath dress with long sleeves and a low back. “Circumstances drew us together. We have chemistry. It’s nothing serious at this point, but we’re giving it a go. How’s that for a list?”
“She’s fragile.” Broderick’s shoulders braced protectively as he tightened his grip on his lowball glass.
“You clearly don’t know Brea—the woman she is now—as well as you think.” Even considering that moment of fear in her face, he knew how brave she must be to face all of them after what she’d been through.
But brave didn’t necessarily equate with honest.
“That could be true,” Broderick conceded, tipping his drink from one side to the other, making the ice cubes clink against cut crystal. “I’m not sure anyone does know who she is now, since she’s playing things so close to the vest. What if your relationship explodes in your face?”
Ward glanced across the room to where Brea stood with the other women by the thick cream-colored curtains. Her dark features schooled into practiced neutrality. “Then that would be a damn shame, but I don’t see what it has to do with my contract with the company.”
Broderick’s eyebrows raised as his face became tight, foreboding as a winter storm. “It could make things awkward for you with the family if you two are tangled up with each other.”
“Could. But it won’t. I’m a professional.” And if Brea really was intent on harming the company in some way, he was the only one likely to push hard enough to figure it out. Her family seemed to just want her back, no matter what she’d done.
He understood that feeling well after losing his stepdaughter. But he couldn’t let it jeopardize what he was building here at Alaska Oil Barons, Inc. He had big plans for the company, working with Royce Miller to implement his inventions for the safer transportation of fuel and alternative energy sources. Delaney Steele was also an advocate with strong connections. He had a chance to make a difference.
Broderick eyed him skeptically. “Do you actually think life is that simple?”
“Sometimes it is. Sometimes it isn’t,” he answered as honestly as possible, given the circumstance.
“Okay then, I’ll make this clear and simple for you.” Broderick’s voice dropped an octave as he leaned closer. “Be careful with my sister. Because even if I don’t know exactly who she has become, she is—and always will be—my sister. If you hurt her, there won’t be a place in Alaska remote enough for you to hide.”
“Message heard.” Ward met Broderick’s icy gaze with all the warmth of a tropical island. With a boardroom smile, he inclined his head. “Now I have a date. With your sister.”
And despite all the warnings—from Broderick, and from his own wary nature—Ward very much looked forward to kissing her good-night on her doorstep.
