The old bicycle pump, set on a bracket on the cross beam of the bike, thankfully lived up to its designated task of filling the tires with much-needed air. She cocked her head and listened. No telltale hiss anywhere. Deciding to err on the side of caution, Rina did a few short circuits up and down the road outside the cottage. Satisfied that the tires would hold, she gathered her wallet from inside, and the key, and popped them in the basket before rolling up the hem of her cotton trousers. Maybe white wasn’t quite the best choice, she thought as she straddled the bike and wobbled her way up the road.
She’d been pedaling for no more than a couple of kilometers when a dust cloud approached her from the distance. Since she’d figured out this was a private road, she was surprised to see another vehicle coming her way. And quickly, too, if the smear of dust particles in the air was any indicator.
As the vehicle drew closer, she recognized Reynard’s Ferrari. He slowed down and wheeled to a halt in the dirt road. Rina waited a moment for the dust to settle before getting closer.
His window rolled down and he leaned one arm along the open frame.
“What on earth are you doing?” he asked.
Rina bristled. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out, surely.
“I’m riding a bike. I need some supplies.”
“Since when did you ride a bike to get them?” he commented as he thrust open his door and unfolded his length from the car.
Her eyes drank in the sight of him. He was dressed in pale gray trousers, teamed with a long-sleeved, lightweight white knit sweater, with the sleeves pushed up to expose tanned muscled forearms with a light sprinkling of dark hair. His hazel eyes were obscured by a dark pair of designer sunglasses and his hair was swept off his forehead by the light breeze. Altogether he was a mouthwatering sight.
Realizing he was standing there waiting for an answer, she scoured her memory for what he’d just said and grabbed at the first thought that sprang to mind.
“I’m running out of a few things.”
“So why didn’t you just do as you always do and leave a list for the cleaner?”
Rina stifled a groan and mentally shook a fist at her sister for neatly landing her in it. She felt as if she had to walk on eggshells from here on in.
“I needed the exercise,” she explained with a shrug. “Besides, it’s a lovely morning and I wasn’t expecting you for a while yet. How’s Benedict today?”
“The doctors are talking about bringing him out of the induced coma today. Abuelo and Javier are at the hospital now so I thought I’d come and collect you early.”
“Right, well, you’d better follow me, then,” Rina suggested as she turned the bike around and hopped up on the worn saddle.
“Or we could just leave the bike here, and collect it when we come back,” Rey said with one eyebrow quirked as if all his humor at the sight on her on the bike was hidden behind those dark lenses of his.
“No, I couldn’t do that. It might get stolen. What would the owners say?”
“Sara, stop pulling my leg. I am the owner—of the cottage and everything in it. Or at least my family is, anyway. You know that.”
Rina suddenly put it all together. The beautiful golden castillo she’d seen through the kitchen window by the cliff tops only a mile or two away. Reynard’s surname. That whole sense of entitlement and privilege that she’d sensed about him and his brother from the minute she’d laid eyes on them. That also explained why Sara was staying at the Governess’s Cottage. It was a family property; where else would one’s fiancée stay if they weren’t actually staying with you?
“Well, I’d still rather put it away. Don’t want to get on the wrong side of you or anything,” she half joked.
The tiny pull at the corner of his lips sent a zing straight to her chest. Serious faced, he was handsome as sin, but with that quirky little half smile he was devastating. She began to pedal, hoping that she wouldn’t do anything stupid like wobble right off the road and into a ditch. She heard the slow purr of his car’s engine as he cruised along behind at a snail’s pace.
Every time her feet depressed the pedals she was conscious of how her backside must look to him. Of how the cotton pants she wore stretched tight across her buttocks and thighs. By the time she reached the cottage she was hot and flustered. Noticing that she’d smeared some chain grease on her pants leg, despite her efforts to the contrary, she excused herself to change before they left for the hospital.
Eschewing her own suitcase, she thrust open the doors to Sara’s wardrobe and grabbed the first thing she found on a hanger. The fact it was a light floral dress with a background of mint green and a designer label on it that shrieked a budget far higher than Rina usually allowed herself for clothing was merely a side benefit, she decided as she yanked off her shirt and trousers and then shimmied into the dress. Sara always did prefer to spend her money rather than sock it away for a rainy day, and for once, Rina wholeheartedly approved.
She knew Sara wouldn’t begrudge Rina borrowing her clothes, had in fact even suggested it, but Rina had the feeling this particular dress was special. It certainly felt that way as the deliciously soft fabric whispered across her legs as she slid her feet into a pair of matching open toe pumps.
She quickly stepped into the bathroom to freshen her makeup and to check her phone surreptitiously. At last! A text from Sara. Rina groaned under her breath in frustration. Was it too much to ask for her runaway sister to have finally responded at a time when Rina could call or text her back? Rina scanned the message.
Sori I hvn’t been in touch. I hope things r ok with Ben. Pls, whateva u do, don’t tell Rey wot I’ve done. Will call u soon. Luv u sis. Sx
Rina’s heart sank. She’d geared herself up to give Reynard the full story and now here was Sara once more begging her not to. It made her sick to her stomach but despite her own feelings on the matter she decided to give Sara that little extra leeway. With any luck, she’d be back in a day or so and everything would be fine.
Reluctantly, she switched the phone to silent mode. If Sara called now she’d have to go to voice mail. Rina sincerely doubted she’d be able to carry off a phone conversation with her twin while said twin’s fiancé sat next to her in the close confines of his car. And, of course, the hospital expected cell phones to be switched off in the high dependency unit where Benedict was currently being cared for. Rina remembered that much at least from when their father had suffered his last, fatal heart attack.
“Sara? Are you ready? We really need to get back now.”
Rey’s voice outside the bathroom door made her start. She turned on a faucet and let cool water splash over her wrists for a second before snapping it off.
“Just a minute. I’m nearly done,” she called over her shoulder.
She grabbed her perfume and spritzed a tiny amount behind each ear before grabbing the length of her hair and twisting it up into a loose knot secured with a handful of Sara’s pins. There was one advantage in having the same untamed mass of long red hair—they both tended to wear it in very similar styles. There. She could handle anything, she decided as she looked at herself in the mirror. Anything that didn’t get too personal, at least.
As they left the cottage she heard Rey inhale softly.
“Nice perfume. It’s different from your usual.”
Rina swallowed against the gasp of irritation that rose in her throat. She hadn’t even thought about what perfume Sara had been wearing. Her sister had always preferred the spicier floral, oriental-based perfumes while she herself was more a light floral fragrance person. It was yet another example of how careful she was going to have to be to carry this off properly.
She turned and smiled at Rey, slipping on a pair of sunglasses so he couldn’t see the lie in her eyes. Sara always warned her that she gave too much away.
“It’s something I picked up while I was away. Do you like it?”
From behind her, Rey leaned in and inhaled again, his lips mere centimeters fr
om the curve of her neck.
“Mmm, yeah, I do.”
A frisson of awareness shot down Rina’s spine with the velocity of lightning, leaving a fierce sizzle throbbing in its wake. She stumbled a little, steadying as Rey’s hands shot out to anchor her.
“I’m okay,” she hastened to say, pulling from his light clasp before she could enjoy getting too close.
What was it she had told herself only minutes ago? About handling things provided it didn't get too personal? Right now, it looked as if that was to be her biggest obstacle because despite everything, she was left fighting against a desire to get very personal indeed.
Five
The updated news at the hospital wasn’t good. Rather than attempt to bring Benedict out of his coma, Rey was shocked to learn the doctors had reassessed his condition and elected to keep him in that suspended state for at least two more days. While his air bags had deployed and saved him from more serious head injuries, there was still some swelling on the brain that was causing concern. Another forty-eight excruciating hours of hoping against hope their brother would find the will to fight his way out of the pain and darkness, and survive.
Rey leaned back on the hard, vinyl-covered seat in the private waiting room and exchanged a look with Alex. Somehow they had to get through this—more importantly, somehow they had to get Benedict through this. Rey didn’t need words to know that he and Alex were remembering their last evening with the three of them together.
It had been weeks ago, the night of Abuelo’s stroke, and they’d all gathered at the castillo for dinner together. Rey had announced his engagement to Sara to his brothers, and Ben had seen right through his plans. Despite the agreement they’d made three and a half months prior, to find brides to calm Abuelo’s fears, Benedict knew Rey had no intention of seeing the engagement through to marriage. Abuelo’s constant harping about the governess’s curse was making him ill and had caused huge concern among the brothers—so much so, it had forced Alex to go ahead with the archaic arranged marriage he’d never planned to take seriously, and both Rey and Benedict to agree to do whatever it took to keep Abuelo well and happy.
The fact that Alex’s marriage to Loren had turned out to be a whole lot happier than anyone had anticipated was beside the point. It certainly had come close to failing completely because of his brother’s pride and stubbornness—a pride and stubbornness that was bred in all the del Castillo men, it would seem.
Rey felt a cold trickle of unease creep under his skin. Perhaps his grandfather had been right. Perhaps the curse really was coming full circle and Benedict’s accident had been yet another reminder that the surviving del Castillo sons had to abide by honor, truth and love with their whole hearts in order to keep the family alive for another generation. His rational side rejected the thought emphatically, but who knew now how much truth there remained in the legendary curse, especially given the problems Alex and Loren had originally faced in their marriage, Abuelo’s stroke and now Benedict’s life-threatening injuries?
Could the crazed words of a scorned woman really have such an effect nine generations later—with theirs reputed to be the last if they didn’t get their act together? Again, that finger of disquiet stroked a chilling line down his neck. He huffed a sigh in frustration and shifted again on his chair. All this inactivity made him uncomfortable. It left him too much time to think.
The doctors only permitted one family member in with Benedict at a time, and only for about ten minutes each hour, at that. Loren had just returned from being with him now and Rey recognized the shell-shocked expression on her face as mirroring his own after his visit with Ben. He had found it both terrifying and frustrating to see his younger sibling so pale and bruised, his body covered with dressings over wounds, tubes and wires coming out everywhere—even a machine that aided his breathing.
Neither he nor Alex felt they could leave the hospital after this morning’s news. Benedict’s condition was too fragile. They had to remain, even if they couldn’t be in the same room with their injured brother, they just had to be here. Their sentiments were strongly echoed by Abuelo who had stubbornly fought to stay at the hospital all day also, but whose exhaustion had finally seen him reluctantly agree to return to his room in the convalescent home for some much needed rest.
Rey shifted again on the seat. Dios, they were so uncomfortable. No wonder the old man tired so quickly. And where the hell had Sara gone? She’d left him a couple of hours ago, with Javier and Abuelo, on the pretext of “sorting some things out.” Just what did she have to sort out, he wondered irritably. Her place was at his side—or at least to be seen at his side.
Now she was back from France, he was even more firmly reminded of the need to portray to his family that he was following the terms all the brothers had agreed upon. That they’d do whatever it took to give their grandfather the peace of mind he needed to stop worrying about the blasted curse. Well, he was doing his part, together with Sara. Now it was up to Benedict to get well and do the very same.
A sound at the door to the waiting room caught his attention and he and Alex exchanged a puzzled look before they both rose to their feet to see what the commotion was about. If it kept up, then soon the charge nurse on the floor would be along, exhorting them to be quiet with her usual quelling glare. To Rey’s surprise the door opened to reveal a crew of maintenance staff with large trolleys—one empty and the others stacked with covered, bulky loads. The men came into the room, closely followed by Sara who had a very smug smile on her face.
“Thank you, gentlemen. Yes, these are the ones to go and then you can bring in the new furniture.”
“New furniture?” Rey asked, looking askance at his fiancée. What on earth was she thinking? New furniture in a hospital waiting room?
“Yes,” she said, stepping out of the way of the two men as they stacked up the vinyl-coated chairs and loaded them onto the empty trolley before bringing in a very comfortable-looking three-seater sofa and two recliners, together with a set of highly polished side tables and a small credenza. “New furniture. No one can possibly be comfortable on those things.” She gestured to the trolley outside the door. “Besides, if I’d only gotten the one recliner for Abuelo he would have refused to use it, wouldn’t he?”
There was no argument there. The old man would have sat on the floor rather than admit that his age and infirmity granted him the privilege of a more comfortable seat than anyone else.
“Of course, you are right,” Rey acknowledged, sidestepping one of the maintenance crew who was positioning the credenza against a wall near a power socket. “He most definitely would have refused it.”
It was astute of Sara to have picked up that so quickly—she’d only met the del Castillo patriarch yesterday—astute and caring of an old man’s need for comfort. Rey gave her a narrowed glance. Since when did she get so perceptive? When she smiled back in response, he felt an unexpected rush of something new toward Sara, something warm and heart deep. The sensation took him by surprise and made him a little uncomfortable at the same time. He was unused to feeling this way about a woman. Usually he indulged in what became a mutually satisfying physical affair. He always played all the right moves to ensure that each of his companions were made to feel special and treasured for however long he planned to spend with them. With Sara it had been no different, until she’d returned from France, that is.
It was as if she was two different people, or as if the Sara he’d asked to become his fiancée, carefully couching the proposal as “let’s get engaged” so there was no actual mention of marriage, had changed while she’d been away. The differences were both disconcerting and appealing at the same time.
It was because of Benedict’s accident, he told himself. It couldn’t possibly be anything else. She hadn’t changed, it was just his perception of her that was different, given his state of mind. His emotions were all over the place at the thought that one of his beloved brothers, no matter their occasional differences, could be lost to th
em.
But even as he tried to convince himself of this, he couldn’t help asking himself whether the Sara he’d known before would have thought so far ahead to an elderly man’s comfort, not to mention his pride, let alone to have conjured up an espresso machine together with a small refrigerator to store fresh, healthy snacks and milk for all the family.
Maybe he’d misjudged her. Even as he thought of it, the notion refused to make sense. Reynard trusted his people sense. It was an indispensable business skill that he’d spent years developing. He knew what Sara was like—had known ever since he’d met her at the annual del Castillo–sponsored equestrian trials. But how could one woman be so completely different? On the one hand, the life of the party—fun and flirtatious—then on the other, kind and compassionate and imbued with a warmth that went straight to people’s hearts. It wasn’t logical. The Sara he knew was taking her responsibility to him and his family far more seriously than he’d ever intended. Now, he was starting to believe that she was hardly the type to simply laugh and brush off a broken engagement, either. While he had no desire to actually marry her, a sudden protective surge warned him that he had no desire to hurt her, either.
What if he really married her, a little voice asked from deep inside. No, he quelled the thought immediately. That wasn’t part of the plan. He didn’t believe in the curse so it shouldn’t matter whether he was engaged or married, or anything for that matter. He’d never given the state of marriage a great deal of thought—it was just something he knew would happen “one day”—but he did know that when he finally embarked on such a course, he’d be doing it because he was ready, not at the behest of a frightened old man, no matter how much he loved his grandfather. Despite his inner demons he had to acknowledge that he had begun to crave Sara in ways he’d never done before.
Stand-In Bride's Seduction Page 5