Читать книгу The Unknown Twin - Kathryn Shay - Страница 9

VINCE WOJOHOWITZ LOOKED like a younger version of Arnold Schwarzenegger. Alex had called his friend, a police detective, when he and Lauren discovered the open window in her living room. Not wanting a repeat of last night, where the cop, who turned out to be Vince’s partner, had doubted Lauren, Alex had decided to call in his buddy.

“Okay, Lauren, let me get this down on paper.” Perched on the edge of her lounger, Vince whipped out a pad and grabbed the pencil from behind his ear. “Shoot.”

Lauren ran a shaky hand over her kitten Caramel’s back. The movement of her fingers was slow and languid, and Alex’s eyes were glued to it. Hannah, sitting next to Lauren on the couch, touched her friend’s shoulder. She and Vince had been about to go to dinner when Alex called.

Alex listened to Lauren’s melodic voice retell the simple facts: they’d come home, she was certain she hadn’t left the window open or unlocked, especially after thinking someone had broken in the night before, yet the window was ajar. Alex bent down and picked up Butterscotch, Lauren’s other cat. The appropriately titled feline burrowed into him, much like Lauren had when she’d discovered the window. He’d been moved by her vulnerability. “Be sure to tell Vince about last night.”

“I already did.”

“You need to again, so I get it right.” Vince glanced at his fiancée and smiled.

After they finished, Vince rose. “Well, I’ll be going.”

From where he stood by the window, Alex saw Lauren frown. “What do you mean, I?”

“Honey, I’m going to stay with you.” Hannah gave her a sympathetic look. She was dressed to the nines in a slinky black dress and killer heels.

“No way. I’ve already interrupted your evening. I’m fine.”

The couple looked torn.

Hannah said, “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’ll stay.” Alex grinned. “Lauren promised me dinner anyway.”

Hannah shot her a quizzical glance. “Oh, well then.” She rose and leaned into Vince. “I’ll come back after dinner to spend the night.”

Watching Vince’s face, Alex had to bite back a smile. Police officers and firefighters routinely sacrificed personal time for the job. But Alex could tell his buddy had romance in mind, and the guy was struggling to conceal his disappointment.

“Absolutely not.” Dislodging the cat, Lauren stood. “Under no circumstances will you do that.” When her friend started to object, Lauren insisted. “I won’t let you in if you come back, Hannah. I mean it.”

Alex liked her spunk, well hidden under her demure manner. Not to mention her unselfishness. She’d been mighty scared when she thought someone had broken in a second time.

“All right. But if you get frightened after Alex leaves, promise you’ll call my cell.”

“I promise. Now scoot so I don’t completely ruin your evening out.”

Dropping the cat on the floor, Alex walked them to the foyer with Lauren. “Thanks, buddy,” he said, punching Vince in the arm. “I owe you one.”

“Call Sam Prophet about this.”

“We will.”

When they left, Lauren turned and faced him. “You’re a nice guy, Alex Shields.”

He couldn’t help it. Reaching out, he pushed a stray tendril of silky hair behind her ear. He brushed the knuckles of his other hand over her equally silky cheek. The texture of Lauren entranced him. “You okay?”

She wrinkled her nose. “I hate inconveniencing anybody.”

“People care about you, Lauren. They want to help.”

“I know.” She smiled. “Thanks for staying.”

“Hey, it’s a tough job, but somebody’s got to do it.” He watched her. “I want to be with you, Lauren.”

She smiled and leaned into him. Man, he liked that. He held her close, though he’d never seen himself as a cuddler. Lauren brought out unexpected reactions in him.

“I want to be with you, too.” She drew back. “Now, come to the kitchen with me and I’ll start dinner while you get us a drink.”

He cocked his head. “What does one drink with quiche?”

“Something sweet and syrupy.”

He grimaced.

“Just kidding. I’ve got Scotch, I think. Maybe a beer or two.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

As he followed her to the kitchen, Alex wondered if Lauren Conway was going to be the one to capture his heart permanently. The thought wasn’t at all unpleasant.

THE QUICHE, CHEESY AND HOT, tasted as good as she had hoped it would. The bread was as light and airy as froth. The wine was tart. But Alex kept distracting Lauren from the food. “Didn’t your mother feel bad when you switched majors in college?” she asked after he told her about his jump from genetics to fire fighting.

“She didn’t seem to. My mom’s a special person.” His smile was warm and loving. It made Lauren’s heart clutch, thinking about her own mother. It had only been a year, and she still missed her parents so much she found it hard to talk about them.

Alex, on the other hand, seemed to love to talk about his mother. “She and Dad are so different. She met him when he was treated at the hospital for burns and she was in med school.”

“Did she worry about the danger of fire fighting?”

“A smoke-eater’s wife can’t afford to worry.”

“What about a smoke-eater’s mother?”

He knit his brows. “Probably. Though she never showed it.”

“I’d worry. I can’t imagine the man I love risking his life every day. Or my son. I’d be a wreck.”

“It’s funny. Before nine-eleven, I never heard spouses of firefighters talk about that. But now that time has passed, the worrying seems to have leveled off.” He sipped his Scotch. Leaning back in his chair, he draped his arm over the back. She’d title this picture “Man After Dinner.” He said, “Tell me about your parents.”

Emotion constricted her throat. She fiddled with the napkin in her lap. “They were a lot alike. Both lawyers. Both right brained. Serious people. I was a surprise to them.”

“Having you, you mean?”

“No, my creative streak. Most of the time, they didn’t know quite what to make of me.”

“I’m sorry. Were you unhappy as a kid?”

“Not in the way you mean. They loved me to pieces. I fascinated them, though, in how different I was.” She frowned. “They did everything they could to make me feel accepted and loved. I was, I know that. It’s just that I’ve always had this feeling of not…belonging, I guess.”

Alex looked concerned but didn’t respond.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

She studied him. “Tell me.”

“It’s just the eye-color thing. And if you were that different from them…” He let the suggestion trail off, but she got the implication.

Shaking her head, she toyed with her fork. “That doesn’t mean I’m adopted, Alex. My mother saw me being born. I have the tape.”

“Lauren, I think you should meet the Ivies.”

Her heart rate sped up. “Why?”

“Because of your likeness to Dana.”

“That would be giving this whole thing credence, don’t you think?”

“Not necessarily. What I do know is they shouldn’t just run into you on the street. It would upset them.”

She wouldn’t want to do that.

“If it was my mother, or yours, wouldn’t you want to prepare her?”

“Of course. This is just…disconcerting.”

He leaned over and took her hand. His was callused and big. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She squeezed his fingers, enjoying the rough feel of his fingertips and palm. “No, it’s all right. You’re just looking out for the Ivies. I’ll meet them.”

“Good.”

Studying him, she fit together a few more pieces of the puzzle that was Alex Shields. He was a man who cared deeply for his parents, and others in his life. “I guess we have one thing in common—a nice childhood. Acceptance.”

“This feeling of not belonging that you told me about? Is that where Dee comes in?”

“Dee?”

“Your cartoon. She’s everything Lily’s not.”

She’s my imaginary childhood friend, and current alter ego. But Lauren wouldn’t admit that to Alex.

Embarrassed, Lauren shook her head. “I told you, Alex, it’s only a cartoon. It has nothing to do with me.”

“Well, damn. I kinda liked the idea of being the muscle-bound boy.”

Oh, God, what had possessed her to let the story go down that road? She’d been fooling around with several plotlines and Perry had favored that one, so she went ahead with it. Then there’d been a ground-swell of approval from the Web site. I love Dee…poor Lily, can’t you give her a boyfriend…yummy for the muscle-bound boy.

The doorbell rang, making her jump.

“Easy,” Alex said, but she noticed how his big shoulders tensed under the red T-shirt. A wave of tenderness calmed her unease. She was so glad he was here.

“You expecting anybody?” he asked.

“No. I hope it isn’t Hannah. I think they have better things to do than baby-sit me.”

Despite the intrusion, his eyes sparkled. “I think they do, too.”

Whoever was at the door was getting impatient, first pounding on it, then yelling. What the hell? Alex threw back his chair, said, “Stay here.” He strode to the foyer.

Ignoring his instructions she got up and followed him. The kittens, who’d been sleeping by the window, awoke and Caramel scampered after her.

Alex peered through the peephole. “Some guy’s out there.”

From the other side of the door, she heard, “Open up, Lauren.”

“Damn.”

Alex pivoted. “You know who it is?”

Sidling in front of him, she took a quick peek. “It’s James.”

“Lauren, I hear you inside. Let me in.” He paused, then added, “Please.”

She sighed in frustration. Despite what he’d done, Lauren felt sympathy for him. He was simply a weak man. “It’s all right. He’s harmless. Physically at least.”

“Sam Prophet wasn’t so sure.”

“Well, you’re here. And I can’t let him disturb the whole neighborhood.”

She pulled open the door, coming face-to-face with the man who had made her feel like a failure. She was swamped by the insecurity a woman inherits when a man she loves uses her.

James was a few inches taller than she, about five-eight, and had a runner’s body, the type Lauren had thought she liked. His light brown hair was cut short, and his hazel eyes were troubled. Uncharacteristically, his gray pin striped suit was wrinkled. “I want to talk to you.”

“I’m busy, James.”

He looked past her. The belligerence drained from his face. “Who is he? Don’t tell me you’re dating somebody else.” He swallowed hard. “Lauren, you’re my fiancée.”

“Not anymore. I’d like you to go away.”

When James shook his head and said no, she felt Alex come up behind her and place his hands possessively on her shoulders. Instead of feeling overwhelmed by his presence, like she often did, this gesture made her feel safe.

“The lady asked you to leave.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not going until I get some answers.” With that he tried to step into the foyer.

Nimbly Alex blocked James’s path, towering over him. “I wouldn’t try it, pal.”

At her feet, Caramel scurried away. Lauren said, “It’s all right. I’ll answer his questions.” The air crackled with tension. She put her hand on Alex’s arm. “Please, Alex.”

He moved aside and James crossed into the living room, which connected to the dining area. He stopped short when he saw the table. Lauren tried to view the setting through his eyes—lit with softly flickering candles, pretty mauve tablecloth, blue napkins, the remains of their food. The soft crooning of Harry Connick Jr. filtered in from the background. She’d title the scene “Seduction.”

He turned on them. “Lauren, I—” There was hurt etched in his face.

Ignoring it, she folded her arms over her chest. After what he’d done, she couldn’t afford to feel sorry for him. “What do you want, James?”

He glared at Alex. “I want to talk to you alone.”

“Ain’t gonna happen,” Alex said.

She faced James. “Whatever you have to say, it will have to be said in front of Alex. Tell me what this is about.”

“A man came to see me today.” James scowled. She remembered trying to figure out that scowl on so many occasions. Had she caused it? Why was he unhappy? She’d spent hours on end deciphering the puzzle that was James Tildan. “A Sam Prophet. He wanted to know where I was last night. If I’d come here to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Did you tell him you thought I’d broken into your place?”

“No, of course not. He asked me a lot of questions. Your name came up.”

“And what you did to her.” This from Alex, who was standing stiff and uncompromising.

James swore, crudely.

Alex grabbed his arm. “Watch your mouth around Lauren, or I’ll personally throw you outta here.”

Shrugging Alex off, James gave him a sizzling look before turning back his gaze to Lauren. “This isn’t over, Lauren. I made a mistake in what I did to you, but now I’ll do anything I have to to rectify it.” Without giving her a chance to respond, he stalked to the foyer and out the front door.

“Well, that was fun,” she said, just as Alex’s cell phone rang.

He fished it out of his pocket. “Shields.” He watched Lauren. “Yeah. Uh-huh. We already know, Sam. I’m at Lauren’s. He showed up here. Pissed as hell.” A worried look. “Okay, I’ll tell her.” He clicked off. “Ready for this one?”

She sank onto the couch and picked up Butterscotch, who’d settled there. “No, but tell me.”

“Your friend James lied about his alibi for last night.”

Before she could react to that news, the phone rang again. This time it was hers. “Hell,” she said, and looked up at him.

He shrugged. “Want me to get it?”

“No.” She picked up the phone. “Hello.”

“Ms. Conway?”

“Yes?”

“This is Hank Holmes.” Her brain spinning, she drew a blank on the name. “I own the house you’re renting.”

“Yes, Mr. Holmes.”

“You been tryin’ to reach me?”

“Uh-huh. I was wondering if, for some reason, you were in my house last night when I was out.”

“I was at the dog track last night. Lost my shirt.” He hesitated. “Something happen?”

“No, it’s okay. Thanks for returning my call.” She hung up and faced Alex.

“I take it the landlord wasn’t here.”

“No.”

“That settles it.”

“Settles what?”

“I’m staying the night.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m staying the night.” Alex nodded to the corner of the room. “In that man-size hammock over there.” He gave her a lopsided grin. “Unless you have a spare bed.”

“The other two rooms aren’t furnished yet.”

“Then it’s me and the hammock.” He arched a brow. “Is it comfortable?”

“Yes, but it’s not necessary for you to stay tonight.”

He crossed to the couch and squatted in front of her. He grasped her free hand and cradled it in his. “Humor me, then. I won’t sleep a wink knowing you’re here alone.” He shrugged. “It’s in a firefighter’s genes to protect women, ma’am.”

Her heart was beating fast. She didn’t know if that was from the news she’d just gotten about James, from the landlord’s call or Alex’s suggestion that he sleep here. “That’s ridiculous. I’ve got a dead bolt, I’ll put it on.”

“Does the regular key fit the dead bolt?”

“Yes.”

“If someone’s been in here, he’d have the key to that lock.”

“I suppose.”

“Look, I’ll stay tonight, then call one of my crew who’s a locksmith on the side. He can come out tomorrow and change your locks.”

She had to smile. “Do you know everybody in town?”

“Comes from growing up here. Anybody I don’t know, Mom and Dad do.”

Trying to conceal her concern, she glanced at the door. “I could call Hannah.”

“Oh, yeah, they’d appreciate that. Imagine what they’re doing right about now.”

She could. And it caused heat to flush her face. Because she could imagine doing the same thing with the sexy, smart man before her. Who wanted to stay the night.

As if he read her thoughts, he brushed her hair back, letting his hand rest at her nape in a possessive gesture that made her shiver. “Lauren, you know I’m attracted to you. I want to see you. To date. But the offer to stay tonight doesn’t come with strings.”

A branch batted against the window, and she jumped.

His arched eyebrow taunted her. See, you are afraid. “Do you think that I’d take advantage of you? Pressure you in some way?”

Like he’d have to do that to women. “No, of course not. I just hate to inconvenience you.”

“You can cook me breakfast in the morning.”

Smiling, she reached out and squeezed his shoulder. His eyes lit with her touch, and she couldn’t stop herself from caressing the soft silk of his shirt, feeling his muscles flex under her hand. “What do you like for breakfast, Alex?”

Way to go, girl. Flirt your heart out.

Lauren smiled.

Alex smiled.

“Anything you’re serving.”

They watched a movie—Backdraft—and Alex explained what was portrayed realistically and picked on some of the Hollywoodisms.

At one o’clock, she yawned.

“Time for beddy-bye,” he joked.

“I’ll get you a pillow and a light blanket.” She pointed toward the back of the house. “Bathroom’s through there.”

He rose. “I’ve got a gym bag in my car. I’ll go get it.”

“Keep it on hand for unexpected overnighters?”

He didn’t take offense. Instead, he drew her up from the couch. Once again she felt dwarfed by him. He rested his hands lightly on her arms, and the weight of them felt good. “Lauren, I like women. I go out. I’ve had some serious involvements—I was almost engaged once—but I’m not promiscuous. Or indiscriminate. Basically, I’m just a normal guy.”