Jake decided he'd better take control of the situation, and fast. "I'll tell you what I want." He loomed closer, his gaze direct. "I want you to go home and think long and hard about your reasons for leaving Mike."
She raised her brows in surprise.
"Don't do it just because of me," he said. Taking her by the shoulders, he ushered her toward a car parked down the street, hoping it was hers. "Ask yourself this—if I disappeared tomorrow, would you still want the divorce?"
She opened her mouth to reply.
He held up a hand. "Uh-uh … don't answer me now. Go home and think about it. Take your time—at least a few weeks." He stopped beside the parked car. "If you feel the same way then as you do now, we'll talk about us."
Her lips twitched, her eyes grew shiny. In another moment, she'd be in tears. Steeling himself against them, he turned his back on her and walked away. With great relief, he heard a door slam and a car drive off.
He climbed the stairs to his town house in a daze. Evan had been cheating on Brianna. Why the hell would any man want another woman when he could have Brianna? Anger burned in him as he thought of how hurt she'd be if she found out. If Evan were here, he'd choke him.
What had gotten into him, anyway? He wasn't the womanizing type. He'd dated the same girl throughout high school and college without ever turning an eye to other women for anything beyond friendship. When it came to women, Evan really had been one of the "nice" guys.
Both angry and bewildered, Jake strode to the phone and punched in the number to Evan's hotel. "What the hell's going on, Ev?"
"Are you talking about the investments?" Evan moaned. "They're not doing too well. I'm worried sick."
"I don't blame you. If they keep on as they are, we're in big trouble. But that's not what I'm calling about."
"Don't tell me something else is wrong, too."
"I guess that depends on whose eyes you're looking through. A cute little brunette dropped by. Came at me with a great big hug and kiss."
"Lauren!" His surprised whisper was almost reverent. "Lauren came by? What did she say?" Then with a sudden fierceness, he blurted, "You kissed her?"
Jake raised a brow. He'd never heard quite the same savagery in his brother's voice before. "No, I didn't kiss her. I sent her home to her husband. She said she's going to leave him for you. I can't promise that still applies."
Evan's breath hissed like a deflating balloon. "Hell."
"Hell because she's leaving her husband, or because she might change her mind?"
"I can't break up her family." Dejection darkened every word. "She has a baby. I can't do that to the kid. What would we have done if Dad had run off with the maid? Lord, Jake, I never should have gotten involved with her. But Brianna wouldn't … Brianna didn't … oh, hell. I just couldn't help it. Once I started with Lauren, I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't think about anything else. Look what a mess I've made out of everything because of it."
"And now you want Brianna back."
"Brianna," he reflected on a sigh. "She's good for me, Jake. She helps me think straight. We work through problems like a team. I need her."
"You need a damn kick in the butt," Jake growled. "I'm not going to let you hurt Brianna."
"I'd never hurt her! That's why I broke up with her. But I've come to my senses. Lauren has to stay with her husband and I have to stay with Brianna."
"Sorry, Ev. You broke it off. As far as I'm concerned, that makes her fair game."
"Fair game? Damn it, Jake, don't start messing with—"
Click. Jake hung up the phone, and his anger gradually lost its steam. An odd exhilaration swept into its place. His duty became clear. He had to protect Brianna from a broken heart.
"I hope Evan makes it," Chloe said for at least the third time since the party had started. "I left a message on his recorder that he should drop by if he got in before midnight. I said a new neighbor of mine wanted to meet him."
Looking proud of her own resourcefulness, Chloe moved on in her silver-spangled tunic top and black tights to shout a teasing remark at someone across the room. Neighbors and friends milled around the great room of her spacious ranch-style house, laughing, munching and toasting to her birthday.
Brianna smiled and joked, determined to present a happy face, but nothing distracted her from thoughts of Jake. Last Tuesday on the phone, she'd sworn he missed her, and yet he'd ended the call on an abrupt impersonal note. Her confusion had grown. She wished she could fast-forward time until he'd come home to her again.
Except, her home wasn't Jake's, and she wasn't the only woman in his life. He'd be leaving for foreign ports, with women waiting at each one. She had to remember that. She lost sight of it too easily these days.
It was better that he didn't come here tonight, she told herself. These people were friends of Evan's. Jake could be tripped up in his impersonation much easier here than at work.
The doorbell rang. She made a move to answer it, but Chloe stood closer. With a curious peep through the side window, Chloe cried, "It's Evan!"
Brianna's heart spun around. It had to be Jake. He was home!
Chloe dropped the curtain back into place and instructed everyone to yell "happy birthday" when he walked in. Brianna braced herself with a hand on the back of a nearby armchair. Anticipation sang through her veins, even while common sense begged her to keep her heart aloof. Her anxiety also rose at the potential complications of his impersonation. Why had he risked coming here tonight?
Chloe opened the door with cheerful greetings, and Jake stepped in. Snowflakes glistened in his wavy dark hair and along the broad shoulders of his black cashmere overcoat. Evan had worn that coat before, but not with Jake's casual, roguish style. Beneath it he wore a black T-shirt, faded jeans and soft leather boots. Even with his hair cut short and his face clean shaven he looked outlaw rugged, virile and criminally handsome.
The crowd shouted in unison, "Happy birthday!"
He put on a credible show of surprise, to Chloe's beaming delight, shaking his head in wry disapproval at the small mob who swarmed forward with comic quips about age and rowdy pats on the back.
Brianna hadn't shouted. She hung back from the front lines, wishing the sight of him hadn't affected her with such a deep rush of bewildering emotion.
As Chloe took his coat, he uttered threats of revenge against her. Laughingly she claimed to have been an unwilling accomplice to "the brains behind the scheme."
He nodded, as if he'd guessed as much. "Where is she?" With his jaw squared in a parody of vengeful determination, he scanned the faces.
Brianna felt an almost physical jolt as his gaze locked with hers. She tried to smile, but the energy radiating between them interfered. Her knees grew weak as he approached. "You," he said in low tones. "You were behind this, weren't you?"
"No, not me. Chloe was the one who—"
"Don't try to put all the blame on Chloe." Despite the playfulness of his words, he brought her into his arms with a forceful pull, his blue gaze intense. "The penalty for conspiracy is stiff. Very stiff."
"But I—"
He wasted no more time on nonsense; he silenced her with a kiss. Not just the affectionate peck she'd expected in front of all these people, but a deep, moving proclamation. When the kiss had swirled to a final close, she'd forgotten about everyone but him.
"Boy!" Chloe exclaimed, gawking beside them. "Did I get the short end of that stick! I get the threats, she gets a thousand watt kiss."
Jake's mouth turned up in a grin, but he didn't loosen his arms from around Brianna. "I wouldn't want to blow your fuse, Chloe. By the way, happy birthday."
She looked at him with puzzlement. "You, too."
Brianna noticed, then, the surprised looks from all corners of the room. She realized that Evan had never kissed her that way in public. In fact, he'd never kissed her that way at all. And he'd never gazed at her with the heat and power now blazing from Jake's compelling eyes.
"How about a Scotch and s
oda?" Chloe asked him. "Make that a beer, and I'll let you off without a birthday pinch."
"Try it and you won't see your next birthday." As she turned with a grin to get the beer, her gaze snapped back to him in a double take. "Since when do you drink beer?"
"Can you believe it?" Brianna found her voice out of sheer necessity. "He finally found some he likes. What's the name of that imported beer you discovered on your last business trip, Evan?" She emphasized his name to remind him of his role.
He narrowed his gaze at her, but rattled off some German-sounding name.
Chloe snorted. "I've never even heard of that."
"Scotch will be fine," he said. "On the rocks."
Chloe walked off to get his drink. Brianna wrapped an insistent hand around his arm and guided him to an unoccupied corner. "Did you forget your role?" she admonished when they were out of earshot. "Evan doesn't drink beer, and he doesn't trade double entendres with Chloe."
"Sorry. I got carried away." He turned her to face him and settled his arms around her, longing to feel her against him. "What else doesn't Evan do?"
"Well, he … he doesn't…" her voice dropped an octave "…he doesn't kiss me like you did. Or hold me like you are right now." She looked away, flustered. "In public, I mean."
"This isn't public. It's a private party." Jake cocked his head. "So you mean he does kiss you like that in private?" He couldn't keep the censure from his question. He didn't want to think of any other man kissing her at all.
"I can't tell you things like that. It wouldn't be fair to Evan."
"So he doesn't." Gladness swept through him, and he whispered heatedly, "Maybe he doesn't want you the way I do."
Her gaze returned to his, and he wondered if he'd hurt her. He hoped not, but he'd set out tonight to protect her from a broken heart. The only way to do that was to make her see that Evan wasn't the man for her.
"Evan and I have broken up, as you well know. I see no point in talking about the past. Please just try to behave."
"While we're on the subject of misbehaving," he drawled, tracing the curve of her face with the back of his fingers, "don't think I didn't notice your infraction. I'm going to have to charge you another penalty." Angling her face to his, he brushed his lips across her mouth.
Her eyelids fluttered in sensuous response, but she remained lucid enough to murmur, "What infraction?"
"I warned you not to call me Evan. I meant it." Breathing in her delectable scent, he kissed the tender side of her jaw. In her clingy red sweater and tight jeans, she looked too tempting to resist. He wanted to run his hands over every curve. She'd feel firm, warm and soft…
With a slow influx of breath and obvious reluctance, she pulled back from him. "I have to call you Evan. Mr. Rowland would sound ridiculous."
He forcibly reined in his burgeoning desire, and after a clarifying moment considered the predicament.
"Honey might be nice. Or sweetheart." His musings were rewarded with an appalled stare. "Or maybe shnookems."
"Shnookems! I'd never call anyone shnookems, least of all Evan." Caught by the sudden image of that, she glanced pointedly at Jake, and with a burst of laughter they came together in a huddle to stifle their hilarity. "He'd think I was n-nuts," she gasped against his quaking shoulder.
"Shnookems it's got to be," he decided.
As their mirth wound down, Chloe came up behind them and handed a drink to Jake. "Here's your Scotch, Ev. Come join our game of charades. You're always so good at it."
As Chloe turned toward the lively gathering near the fireplace, Jake slanted Brianna an apprehensive glance. He hadn't played charades much. She barely repressed a grin. The fact that she found his apprehension amusing bolstered his determination to shine.
The game commenced. Although he didn't guess many answers, his comments and performances kept the group laughing hard enough that no one seemed to notice. The game actually proved helpful in his impersonation, preventing deep conversations that might have tripped him up. Brianna helped by addressing everyone by name until he had them memorized.
Afterward, Chloe lit the candles on two decorated cakes. One read, "Happy Birthday, Evan."
A pang of awareness shot through Jake. Evan should be here at the center of this cheery group of friends who now sang as the candle flames danced. Silently he wished his twin a happy birthday—despite their little run-in—and made a vow to do everything in his power to bring him back to these people.
Urged on by whistles and cheers, Chloe blew out her candles. The crowd then demanded that Evan blow out his. "Make a wish!" someone yelled.
A wish. Jake had one ready-made. He held Brianna in his stare, the candlelight glinting in her hair and eyes like fiery stars. Burning brighter still, hotter than even the flames themselves, was his need for her to see him, to want him, as himself—Jake—instead of as a stand-in for Evan.
Intently he blew out every last candle.
While the others applauded, she stood watching him, as if she couldn't quite decide what she saw. Had it crossed her mind, he wondered, that today was also his birthday? Not that it mattered. It didn't. Not at all.
He held out his hand; she took it and they followed the others to the living room where gaily wrapped presents covered the coffee table. Chloe and he opened gag gifts that ranged from silly to naughty, winning chortles and hoots from the onlookers.
For the first time ever, he understood why his brother had spent most of his life in this one small community. He'd built a true home here. Jake, who traveled the world on a regular basis and knew people from almost every culture, realized now what he had given up—friends who shared his day-to-day life with an easy camaraderie … friends who knew his birthday without being told … friends who sometimes turned into the very best lovers. Brianna.
He couldn't let Evan have Brianna. He looked around, feeling the need to hold her. Where had she gone? The others had drifted into pairs and danced at the far corner of the great room.
As if beckoned by his will, she rounded the corner and sat down on the sofa beside him, holding out a small, colorfully wrapped present. "One last gift to open."
"I'll take it home for Evan with the others," he said, making sure no one could overhear.
She hesitated. "Whoever brought this one might be waiting for a thank-you. Better open it now."
With a shrug, he reluctantly took the gift. He'd begun to feel too much the impostor. No card was attached, only a small square of white paper taped beside the miniature bow. The homemade tag read, "Shnookems." His gaze shot to her.
A dimple flashed in her cheek. She lifted a shoulder. "In case anyone else saw it."
"This is for … me?"
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded. "I was going to wait, but you seemed a little down."
A slow smile started from somewhere inside of him.
"Go ahead, open it," she urged. "It won't explode."
"If it does, I'll have to charge you one hell of a penalty," he warned. With his spirits strangely soaring, he ripped open the paper and uncovered a book for addresses and phone numbers. "A little black book."
He turned it over in his hands, somewhat bewildered. Was she telling him he'd need the proverbial "little black book," to get back into the swing of things when his time with her had ended? He glanced up at her in question.
"I hadn't thought of it as being a little black book," she replied dryly, "at least not in the sense you probably mean. Open it to the D's."
Glad that his interpretation had been wrong, he flipped through the beginning of the alphabet. Why, he wondered, was she asking him to turn to the D's? Her last name was Devon. Had she written her phone number in it? Was this her way of telling him to keep in touch, once he'd hit the road?
He reached the D section and found what he'd suspected—a phone number and address written in her hand. But they weren't hers. His brows drew together.
Dimitri, Cort. The name swam before his eyes.
"It's him," she
declared. "Your friend who moved away. His mother remarried. She's not a Dimitri anymore. She's listed under the K's."
In a state close to shock, Jake turned to the K's and stared at the unfamiliar name and address written there. In parentheses, she'd printed, "Mrs. Dimitri."
Disbelief robbed him of speech.
"They weren't all that hard to find," she said. "Our receptionist, Ellie, has lived in this town forever and remembers everything that happened in it. When I asked her about the Dimitris, she said that they'd moved to Atlanta. I hit the jackpot with the third 'C. Dimitri' I called."
A great hot ball of emotion rolled up into Jake's throat and burned like the sun throughout his chest. She'd gone to all that trouble for him—to right an old wrong, to heal an old wound. To surprise him for his birthday.
He turned to her with eyes that had to be shining.
He loved her. He loved her fiercely—more than he thought humanly possible—and if he couldn't kiss her now, he'd explode.
He pulled her into his arms and submerged them into a kiss as deep and strong as the feelings coursing through him. He'd never ridden this current before, never sped headlong into this vast unknown, and he thrilled to the sensation. She sped along with him, sleek and powerful and humming, leaving the world far, far behind…
"Ahem. Excuse me." Chloe's droning voice and a sharp poke at his shoulder ejected Jake cruelly from the ride. She stood beside the sofa with her arms crossed. "May I please talk to you in private for a moment … Evan?"
Still dazed from their kiss, Jake muttered, "You have a lousy sense of timing, Chloe."
"Now," she insisted, drawing frowns from him and Brianna. "Bri, dear, our guests have been leaving in a steady flow. Wouldn't you like to say your goodbyes?"
"Yes, of course!" The heat they'd been stoking only moments before now burned in her face as she hurried toward the departing couples.
Chloe, meanwhile, led Jake to her bedroom and to his surprise shut the door and rounded on him with a savage scowl. "You've gone too far this time, you scum-bag!"
Jake blinked, startled by her fury. "Pardon me?"
"Give it a break, Jake. I don't know how you fooled her into believing you're Evan, but the game's up. You'd better tell me it hasn't gone further than what I saw tonight, or I'm going to have to rip your heart out with my bare hands." Her fingers turned into claws in readiness for the attack.
HIS DOUBLE, HER TROUBLE Page 14