Substitute Bride (Special Edition)

by Alexander, Trisha

  You have to get on the plane.

  Five minutes later she and David were settled into their seats in the second row. “Alone, finally,” he said. He took her hand.

  Rachel looked at their linked fingers. Her rings sparkled under the overhead lights.

  Roxanne’s rings, not yours. Just then, Rachel looked up. Her eyes met those of an attractive older woman seated next to an equally attractive older man who sat across the aisle from them.

  “Congratulations,” the woman said. “I’m assuming, from the little going-away party you had back there, that you two are newly weds.”

  Even though Rachel felt totally miserable, she couldn’t help smiling back, because the woman had such a sweet smile and such nice, friendly eyes.

  “We just got married this afternoon.” David’s voice rang with pride.

  The woman turned to her husband. “John and I will be married forty-eight years next month.”

  “Forty-eight happy years,” her husband said gallantly. His hazel-eyed gaze turned to David. “And I hope you’ll be just as happy with your beautiful wife as I’ve been with my Margaret.”

  David’s hand tightened around Rachel’s. “I’m sure I will be.”

  Rachel’s smile faltered around the lump in her throat.

  “Just remember,” the woman said, “to love each other well and never go to bed mad.”

  “That’s right,” her husband agreed. Then he laughed. “Although, if you do go to bed mad, making up can be a lot of fun, too.”

  “Oh, John,” the woman said, ducking her head in embarrassment.

  David chuckled and squeezed Rachel’s hand again.

  The woman and her husband soon began to carry on a private conversation, and David, leaning closer, lifted her hand and kissed it. “Some day we’ll be like them.”

  Oh, David, if only that were true…

  “I can’t wait until tonight,” he continued, his voice lower now and more intimate. “I’ve been thinking about it for so long.” He nuzzled her ear, his breath warm. “I want you so much.”

  Rachel could hardly breathe.

  For a long moment they looked into each other’s eyes. She moistened her lips, and his gaze followed.

  He’s going to kiss me.

  She could see the desire in his eyes. A second later his head dipped, and his mouth sought hers.

  The kiss was thrilling—filled with promise and passion—and it caused Rachel to forget everything and everyone except David and how much she loved him and wanted him, too.

  You could have him. All you’d have to do is continue to keep quiet.

  Everything in her went still at the thought.

  Keep quiet.

  If she didn’t tell David the truth, if she went on pretending to be Roxanne…

  No!

  She couldn’t do that. She couldn’t. It was too awful.

  Why can’t you? You’ve gone this far. Why not go all the way? For once, do what Roxanne would do. Take what you want.

  Rachel remembered the passionate expression on Roxanne’s face when she had said she was seizing her chance at happiness.

  All her life Rachel had been timid. She had never seized anything.

  This was her chance. The only one -she might ever have.

  Yes, there would be consequences.

  Yes, when David found out the truth, she would have to pay those consequences.

  But she would have to, anyway, whether she told David the truth now or told him later.

  Rachel loved David with all her heart, and she wanted this time with him. Maybe she couldn’t have him for a lifetime, but she could have him for a week.

  One glorious week…

  Rachel’s heart pounded at the thought.

  A week. One whole week, alone, with David.

  If she never had anything else in her life, she would at least have memories.

  But what about the September show? What about all the work you have to do? If you go to Colombé, you’ll lose seven painting days. Can you afford to do that?

  She would have the rest of her life to paint. This opportunity to be with David would never come again.

  Surely she could make up the lost painting time over the remainder of the summer. She would just work harder, that’s all.

  She looked at David. At his strong profile. At the tiny bump on the bridge of his nose. At the endearing cowlick on the crown of his head. At his mouth. That wonderful mouth.

  She remembered the way he’d kissed her last week, on the night he’d mistaken her for Roxanne. She remembered the feel of his hands on her body. Even now, the memory caused warmth to spread through her.

  She leaned her head back. Closed her eyes.

  Do it! For once in your life, take what you want.

  In that moment her decision was made. For the next week she would continue to be Roxanne, and damn the consequences.

  David had booked a suite at the Fontainebleau. It was Rachel’s first visit to Miami, and even though she was nervous about the coming night, and still tired from the stress of the day, she was delighted when the taxi pulled up in front of the famed hotel. Her pleasure intensified when, fifteen minutes later, they were shown into their beautiful suite with its ocean view.

  “Oh, David, it’s wonderful,” she said.

  He beamed.

  After dealing with their luggage, the bellman walked around and pointed out items of special interest, then opened the sliding glass door that led to their private balcony. Fresh sea breezes filled the room, as well as the muted sounds of Collins Avenue and Miami Beach nightlife far below.

  “Will there be anything else, sir?” the bellman said with an expectant smile.

  “I think that’s everything,” David said, tipping him generously.

  The bellman left, and finally the two of them were alone.

  For a few seconds they stood there awkwardly, neither quite knowing what to do. Rachel’s pleasure began to fade as doubts crept in. She told herself not to be nervous, but she couldn’t help it. It was one thing to say she was going to seize her chance. It was quite another to actually do it.

  What if she couldn’t pull this off?

  What if, the moment David began to make love to her, he realized she was an impostor?

  Rachel knew Roxanne and David had not been intimate yet, because Roxanne had confessed as much one day. Even so, they had been seeing one another for more than a year. Perhaps they hadn’t completed the act of love, but they had certainly shared intimate kisses and caresses.

  What if he knew?

  He didn’t know when he was kissing you earlier.

  True, but a few kisses and the act of making love were two very different things, she reminded herself. Two very different things.

  “Is something wrong with the room?” David asked.

  “No, of course not,” she said hurriedly. “I, um, guess I should unpack my overnight bag.” She couldn’t meet David’s eyes.

  Stop acting like an idiot! Now you’ve got him worried

  But no matter how sternly she berated herself, her stomach continued to feel as if someone had tied it in knots. Avoiding his gaze, she opened the overnight bag. At least she’d seen all of Roxanne’s trousseau, so there was no hesitation. Unerringly, she reached for the nightgown Roxanne had chosen—a slinky concoction of pale blue lace and satin.

  David touched her arm. “Sweetheart…”

  Rachel jumped, now completely flustered.

  “Listen, after you get unpacked, why don’t you take a nice, long, relaxing bath?” he suggested.

  Rachel could have hugged him. Dear David. He was so thoughtful. He knew she was nervous, and he was telling her it was okay, that he understood, that he wouldn’t rush her. Giving him a grateful smile, she said, “That’s a great idea. I think I will.”

  Ten minutes later Rachel escaped into the privacy of the large, luxurious bathroom with its oversize tub. She turned the hot water jets on full force and poured in strawberry-scented bath oil. When her
bath was ready, she slowly lowered herself into the fragrant water. Closing her eyes, she willed her body to relax.

  She tried not to think about the sexy nightgown and how it would reveal much more than it concealed. She tried not to think about how she knew nothing of what might please David and what might not. She tried not to think about all the ways in which she could fail. She tried only to concentrate on how much she loved David and how much she wanted him.

  Because if she didn’t, she just might lose her nerve.

  Once Rachel disappeared into the bathroom, David raided the minibar. He fixed himself a glass of brandy, then changed into black silk pajama bottoms. After turning off the lights—leaving the bedroom lit only by moonlight—he carried his drink outside to the balcony. Barefoot, he stood at the rail and listened to the surf and the muted sounds of Miami nightlife far below.

  The night air felt cool on his skin, although he imagined the temperature was still somewhere in the eighties. The full moon shone brightly in the starstudded, navy night. He could hear seagulls squawking and horns tooting and lilting salsa music coming from the suite next door. Lights from boats winked in the distance.

  He sipped his drink and listened and looked out to sea and thought about how, so many times, he’d questioned his choices in life. Even this one had caused him some doubt. But no longer. From the moment he’d set eyes on Roxanne walking down the aisle of St. John’s earlier in the day, all his misgivings had disappeared. She was meant to be his wife, and very soon she would be his wife in every sense of the word.

  He smiled. She was nervous. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Roxanne nervous about anything. She had always been so bold and so unafraid, and those traits were part of what he loved about her.

  Yet tonight, seeing that she, too, could be vulnerable, had endeared her to him in a way her strengths had not, and had brought out all his protective instincts.

  He let himself think about the upcoming night, let the desire he’d tamped down for so long begin to build. Anticipation heated his blood and quickened his breathing. He was suddenly very glad they’d waited until now to make love, because it would be even more special than if they’d already become lovers.

  He imagined the way she would look in the delicate gown she’d taken out of her suitcase, imagined the way her skin would feel when he touched her and kissed her, imagined the way he would feel when they finally consummated their love, and by the time he heard the bathroom door opening about twenty minutes later, his body thrummed with need.

  He slowly turned.

  Roxanne stood in the spill of light from the bathroom. Her slender body in the revealing blue nightgown took his breath away.

  He put down his glass and, leaving the balcony door open, walked into the room. Her gaze slowly met his, and he saw that she was chewing on her lower lip. Tenderness flooded him as he realized she was still nervous, even though she was trying hard to pretend she wasn’t.

  Vowing he would be gentle, he took her hand and led her to the bed. Sitting beside her, he enfolded her in his arms.

  Go slowly, he reminded himself as he lowered his mouth to hers. Make this good for her. He had to hold back a moan as her mouth opened under his and he tasted its sweetness and the erotic tangle of her tongue.

  He hadn’t forgotten his admonitions to be patient and tender, but his good intentions crumbled under the force of his need for her and the eager way she responded to him.

  “Roxanne,” he said gruffly, kissing her again and again. “Roxanne.”

  Tearing his mouth from hers, he buried his face in the inviting hollow between her small, firm breasts. His heart pounded and his body burned with a desire that threatened to rage out of control as he pushed the thin straps of her nightgown down around her shoulders. He lifted first one then the other breast to his mouth. He had fantasized about this so many times, but the reality was better than the fantasy. Her nipples peaked into hard nubs as he laved them, and now she was moaning and writhing under him.

  The sound was nearly his undoing. It took all his willpower to keep from taking her then, but somehow he slowed down. Lifting his face, he took a long, unsteady breath and caressed her cheek.

  “Let’s get rid of these clothes,” he said in a ragged voice that didn’t sound like his at all.

  “Yes,” she agreed.

  Rachel’s fears and doubts had disappeared for good the moment he began to kiss her.

  Yes, yes, she’d thought. Yes. This is what I want. Her body had bloomed under his touch, and soon she resented even the thin layer of clothing that separated them. She wanted to feel his skin next to hers. She wanted to touch him the way he was touching her. She wanted more than touches. She wanted him to kiss her everywhere. She wanted him to do the things to her she’d only imagined or read about. She wanted to feel him inside her, to know what it meant to give herself to the man she loved.

  So when David suggested they undress, she was ready. In just moments, her nightgown and his pajama bottoms lay in a shining heap on the floor, and then David was doing all the things she’d wanted him to do.

  She gloried in his touch, closing her eyes and giving herself up to the exquisite sensations as he explored her body. She reveled in them, gasping when his mouth replaced his hands, because the way he made her feel was such sweet torture and she never wanted him to stop.

  “Do you like this?” he said, his fingers slipping inside her.

  “Oh, yes, yes.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” He began to stroke her.

  Heart nearly bursting, she could hardly answer as she strained against him. She was on fire with wanting him. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back if he didn’t stop, and yet she couldn’t make herself say the words. “No,” she finally gasped.

  And then she was falling apart around him, in wave after wave of intense pleasure that threatened to shatter her.

  He entered her in one swift thrust, and she was more than ready. She wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly and they began to move together to find their rhythm.

  Nothing had prepared her for this moment and the truth of it. Holding David, feeling him deep inside her, Rachel’s heart soared with the knowledge that in a world where too many things were wrong, this moment and this man and the love they were sharing were very, very right.

  “I love you,” she said.

  “I love you,” he gasped just before he gave one final thrust and exploded into her.

  Afterward, as their bodies cooled and their hearts slowed and their breaths became even, she lay in the circle of David’s arms and felt his warm breath against her cheek and the quiet pleasure of his hand idly caressing her breast and thought that no matter what happened in the future, she would never be sorry about this night.

  And this was only the beginning!

  She had an entire week to look forward to—a week where they would make love again and again. And maybe, if she was very lucky, she would take something more than just memories away from the week.

  Maybe she would be pregnant.

  Chapter Six

  Now, where did that thought come from? she wondered. Maybe it was always there. Maybe, from the minute you decided to seize this week with David, that was the idea all along.

  David’s baby. Oh, if only she could get pregnant!

  Her heart beat faster. A part of him to treasure always.

  She lay very still and let the idea build.

  If she did become pregnant, what would she do? She couldn’t tell David. She would never want him to feel obligated to her or responsible for her, especially since, when he knew the truth, he would probably despise her.

  You wouldn’t have to tell him.

  True. She could go away somewhere. After all, she could paint anywhere, and with her credentials at the academy, she could probably get a teaching job elsewhere, too. And even if she couldn’t, she and her baby would never starve. After all, it wasn’t as if she was destitute, or anything. Even if her father disowned he
r—and he might, once he found out what she’d done—she had her inheritance from her mother. Granted, it wasn’t riches, but it was enough to buy a small house.

  And she had her car and her furniture. And her half of the town house she and Roxanne jointly owned. If they sold it—and surely Roxanne would want to, now that she was living in Mexico—it would give Rachel a nest egg for the future.

  She could manage just fine.

  David’s baby…

  She fell asleep dreaming about the possibility.

  She was so different from what he’d imagined she would be, David thought as he watched her sleep. Sweeter, softer, shyer. Yet this Roxanne, with her newly revealed vulnerability, suited him perfectly.

  She looked younger asleep, all the brittleness and edginess that had been so pronounced in the past month completely erased from her face. Her chest rose and fell gently, and every once in a while she would sigh and there would be a faint smile on her face.

  He brushed his lips across the delicate curve of her cheek, inhaling the faint fragrance that clung to her skin and marveling that this sexy, beautiful, desirable woman—a woman who could have had her choice of just about any man—had chosen him.

  His wife.

  Pride and love nearly overwhelmed him. She was his wife, and she was perfect. And making love to her had been perfect. He liked the fact that she’d been shy at first, but he liked it even better afterward, when she lost her shyness. She’d been everything he’d dreamed of, and more. Her passion had matched his, fueled his. There had been no holding back. She had shown him, in her every reaction, how much she wanted him.

  He let his gaze trail to her barely covered breasts, to the inviting swell of her hip, the long length of her shapely leg, part of which was uncovered. Her feet were small and narrow, with high arches. Her toenails were painted a deep pink. Looking at them made him want her. Everything about her made him want her.

  He could hardly believe she was his. That for the rest of their lives, they would be together.