Substitute Bride (Special Edition)

by Alexander, Trisha

  He lifted a stray strand of her silky hair, smoothing it back and away from her face.

  She sighed and stirred. David took advantage of the opportunity to gently slide his arm out from under her. Then he quietly got up. Taking care not to make noise, he put on his pajama bottoms and walked to the mini bar, where he fixed himself another small glass of brandy. Then he sat in one of the two armchairs flanking the open balcony door and propped his feet on the bottom of the bed. He slowly sipped his brandy and listened to the surf and watched his wife sleep.

  His wife.

  He thought about the older couple they’d talked to on the flight to Miami. He and Roxanne would be exactly like that. In love no matter how long they were married.

  He smiled, remembering what it had been like when he’d come back to Houston after spending three years in Saudi Arabia. It was the middle of November, a year and a half ago, and he’d been home for only a couple of days. He was staying at his grandmother’s while looking for a place of his own, and she’d waylaid him before he left that morning, saying she’d invited the Carltons for dinner that night. “You are going to be here, aren’t you?” she’d asked anxiously. “You don’t have any other plans?”

  David had smiled. “Sure. It’ll be great seeing them all again.”

  “It’ll just be Roxanne and Wylie,” his grandmother said.

  “Oh? Rachel can’t come?”

  “I thought you knew. Rachel’s in France on sabbatical. She had an opportunity to study with Gaulier.”

  “No, I didn’t know.” David was disappointed that he wouldn’t get to see both twins, but the moment Roxanne and her father walked into his grandmother’s house, he completely forgot his disappointment. It was as if the years of separation between him and Roxanne had never existed. He immediately fell under her spell, just as he had when they were kids, and he’d been captivated ever since.

  Over the next months he pursued her, continuing to ask her out, even though she kept refusing, saying she was involved with someone else. He finally wore her down, and she accepted a date for a movie and dinner. They’d had a great time together, laughing and talking. She fascinated him. Her energy and passion for life were exactly what he needed and wanted.

  That had been the beginning. From then on, he had been relentless. He would not allow her to forget he was there.

  It hadn’t been easy. Roxanne wasn’t one to be pinned down without a struggle. But eventually his patience and persistence—combined with a little help from her father—had paid off, and the following October she was wearing David’s engagement ring on her finger and they’d set their wedding date for the next summer. David hadn’t wanted to wait that long before getting married, but Roxanne had been adamant.

  “There’s no rush,” she’d said. “It’s only eight and a half months, and weddings take at least that much time to plan. Besides, I’ve always wanted to be a June bride.”

  It hadn’t been easy to wait.

  But the waiting was over now, he thought triumphantly. Roxanne was his. Draining his glass, he climbed into bed beside her. Careful not to awaken her, he put his arms around her and cradled her close. Filled with a deep contentment, he closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him, too.

  Rachel stretched lazily, slowly opening her eyes. A smiling David—hair wet and slicked back, tanned and muscular torso wrapped in one of the thick white towels furnished by the hotel, and looking wonderfully sexy and handsome—sat watching her from his perch at the side of the bed.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead.” He leaned over to kiss her cheek. “I thought you were going to sleep all morning.”

  Rachel smiled shyly. “Good morning.” She stretched. “What time is it?”

  “Nine o’clock.”

  “Umm.” She stretched again. “What time does our plane leave?”

  “Not until two. Don’t worry. I was just teasing you. We have plenty of time.” David moved closer and, reaching out, caressed her hip, his warm hand moving in slow, sensuous strokes. Delightful shivers raced down her spine. His hungry gaze fastened on hers as his hand slowly stole up to cup her breast. Rachel’s pulse quickened, and her breathing became shallow as his thumb gently stroked back and forth.

  He bent to kiss her, and she knew he wanted to make love. “Wait just a minute, okay?”

  He grinned. “Okay.”

  She scrambled out of bed, grabbed her discarded nightgown from the floor and, without looking in David’s direction, hurried into the bathroom.

  By the time she’d brushed her teeth and hair, washed her face, put her nightgown back on and returned to David—who was now lying on the bed with the sheet just barely covering him—she felt shy again, approaching the bed uncertainly. But as soon as he took her hand and pulled her down on top of him, her shyness evaporated as if it had never been.

  His kiss was open, wet and hungry. His hands were hot and seeking as they lifted her gown and cupped her bottom, nestling her close. And when she felt his arousal beneath her, her blood zinged through her veins.

  She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sensations pummeling her. Their lovemaking was swift, urgent and thrilling. Rachel loved knowing how much he wanted her and that she alone was bringing him so much pleasure. When he cried out at the moment of climax, she felt triumphant and powerful, and she gloried in the feelings.

  Afterward, he gently rolled her over and held her close. “It’s a good thing you finally woke up.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Sitting there, watching you sleep, I wanted you so much, I wasn’t sure I could last much longer.”

  Rachel laughed.

  “It’s not funny,” he said, pretending to be serious. “I was in pain.”

  “You poor baby,” she teased, loving his playful mood. “Do you feel better now?”

  “Yes, but you’d better be warned. My condition is chronic. I figure I’ll be suffering from it a lot!”

  Rachel smothered a giggle. “Oh, dear, that does sound serious. Well, in that case, I wonder what we can do about it….”

  Nuzzling her neck, he made a sound like a growl. “I know exactly what we can do about it.”

  Pretending to punch him, Rachel twisted out of his embrace. She laughed when he grabbed for her, easily evading him. “Stop that! I’m starving. Isn’t it time for breakfast?”

  “You mean you’d rather eat than make love?”

  Rachel rolled her eyes. “Right now? Yes.”

  With an exaggerated sigh, he shook his head and stood. “Well, okay, if that’s what you want…” The sheet slid down.

  Rachel stared at him. Oh, my. David in clothes was sexy and handsome. David naked was just plain gorgeous. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his body, and realized it was the first time she’d actually looked at him—really looked at him.

  Maybe she would rather make love again.

  His voice was husky. “Like what you see?”

  Rachel cleared her throat and slowly raised her eyes to his. “Yes,” she murmured. “Very much.”

  He smiled, walking slowly toward her. “Sure you won’t change your mind about what you’re hungry for?”

  She swallowed.

  “I thought so,” he said.

  The next thing she knew they were both in the shower. Later, spent and limp and dazed with pleasure, she stood in David’s arms, the hot water cascading over them, and Rachel thought if she died right then, it wouldn’t matter, because she would die happier than any woman had any right to be.

  That afternoon they flew to Colombé. As their plane began its gradual descent and the island came into sharper focus, Rachel decided it was the most beautiful place she’d ever seen. It was so beautiful, it didn’t seem real. The aquamarine sea, the pristine white beaches, the lush emerald hills dotted with red-tileroofed houses, and the brilliant sun washing everything in gold.

  If only she had her paints with her! Oh, sure. As if you could paint. That would be a dead giveaway that you’re not who you pretend to be. Well, maybe that had been
a ridiculous thought. At the very least, Rachel promised herself, she would buy a couple of those throwaway cameras and take lots of pictures. Although painting from photographs wasn’t her favorite way to re-create something, it wasn’t impossible.

  After landing, they were met by a young islander who introduced himself as Ben. He helped David carry their luggage to a bright yellow Jeep. Soon they were on their way, driving first through the touristy downtown area and then along a curving road that paralleled the sea. Rachel breathed deeply. The air was balmy and scented with the fragrance of thousands of flowers. Rachel loved flowers, and these were a veritable feast for the senses. Bougainvillea, orchids, jasmine, fuchsia, oleander, hibiscus—there were so many, Rachel had a hard time identifying them all. The colors were amazing. Scarlets and pinks and purples and yellows and whites and oranges—a dizzying and ever-changing kaleidoscope. Ideas for several possible paintings began to simmer.

  “So what do you think?” David said.

  Rachel sighed. “I love it. It’s perfect.”

  He smiled with pleasure. “Wait’ll you see the villa. It’s coming up, right around this next bend.” He pointed. “There it is.”

  “Oh, it’s lovely.”

  Built on a small promontory, it was pale pink stucco with the de rigueur red tile roof. Although from this angle it seemed to be surrounded by thick foliage, she imagined that the sea side would have a magnificent view.

  It did.

  Rachel stood on the back terrace and gazed out to sea, which glittered so brightly under the lateafternoon sun it almost hurt her eyes to look at it.

  The villa was the perfect size for two people, she decided later. It had a large, L-shaped living room, a fully stocked kitchen, a separate dining room, a huge bathroom with an enormous raised tub, and an equally enormous bedroom with French doors that opened onto their own secluded beach. “Wonderful,” she murmured, imagining lying in bed listening to the sound of the surf.

  David slid his hand around her waist and squeezed.

  She smiled into his eyes and saw the promise there. Her heart gave a little hop.

  A week. A whole week, alone here in this beautiful place, with David.

  What more could anyone ask for?

  And so their honeymoon began. The first two days were lazy and sun filled. They kept mostly to themselves, swimming, eating, sleeping and making love. Rachel had never imagined it was possible to be so happy.

  David was the perfect man. The perfect companion. And the perfect lover.

  She blushed every time she thought about their lovemaking. David made her feel things, want things she’d never imagined she could feel or want. She’d never even dreamed that feelings like hers were possible, let alone attainable.

  In just a couple of days it had gotten so that all she had to do was think about him making love to her, and she would want him. And she was no longer at all shy about showing him how much shewanted him, either. In fact, the night before, she’d initiated their lovemaking, walking up behind him and sliding her hands around to stroke him. His arousal was immediate and flattering.

  Within minutes they were frantically tearing off their clothes. They didn’t even make it to the bed.

  Afterward, David picked her up from the floor and carried her to the bed, where they lay in each other’s arms and talked, which Rachel liked almost as much as she liked making love.

  David idly stroked her breast, his lips pressed against her forehead. “I knew it would be this way between us,” he said.

  “What way?” Rachel said lazily. She loved it when he touched her. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of it.

  “You know what way,” he said gruffly. He stopped stroking and bent to take the nipple into his mouth. He sucked hard, then gently bit, and amazingly, incredibly, desire arrowed through her again. This time, when he pushed deep inside her, he looked down into her eyes. “I knew it would be this way,” he said. “Not ever getting enough of each other. Wanting each other all the time.” He moved slowly, pushing deeper and deeper. “You do want me, don’t you?”

  “More than life itself,” she said, opening her mouth to his as her body fell apart around him.

  “Today we’re going parasailing,” David announced on the morning of the third day.

  Rachel gulped. She was terrified of parasailing, but Roxanne loved it. “Parasailing?”

  He frowned. “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to?”

  “I, um…” Oh, great! Now what? “The last time I went parasailing, I got really sick.” She couldn’t go parasailing. If he saw her parasailing, he would know immediately that she wasn’t Roxanne.

  His frown deepened. “When was that?”

  “It was back in April. You were out of town on a business trip,” Rachel said desperately.

  “Well, if you don’t want to, I could cancel, I guess. Hell, I don’t care if we do anything.” He grinned. “I was just thinking about what would make you happy.”

  Relief made Rachel feel weak. “I am happy,” she said. “Right now I’m the happiest woman in the world.”

  “Does Rachel know where we’re staying?” David said later that day.

  The question jolted Rachel, coming as it did from out of the blue while she and David were having a leisurely lunch on the veranda of one of the town’s hotels. “Yes, she does.”

  “Maybe she’ll call you here, then.”

  “I don’t think so.” She evaded his eyes.

  “Why not?”

  “I, uh, don’t think she’d want to disturb us on our honeymoon.” She finally looked up.

  David took a bite of his red snapper and nodded. “You’re probably right. Rachel’s pretty thoughtful that way.”

  Rachel looked down at her plate again to hide the guilt she was sure shone in her eyes for all the world to see.

  “Your father sure was ticked off about her leaving like that,” David continued.

  “Yes.” Rachel forced herself to eat a small bite of rice and battled to get herself under control.

  “Wonder if he’d have been as mad if it had been you who’d pulled something like that.”

  Rachel swallowed. “I’ve wondered that myself,” she said truthfully, meeting his quizzical gaze as evenly as she could.

  David ate some more fish and buttered another roll. He took a bite. His dark eyes were thoughtful. “Does it bother you?”

  “Does what bother me?”

  “Knowing you’ve always been your father’s favorite?”

  Rachel couldn’t think how to answer his question. She had no idea how Roxanne felt about the subject. Although they’d had few secrets from one another, their father and his obvious preference for Roxanne had been studiously avoided by both twins. She finally decided she would answer his question according to her own feelings. “Yes. It bothers me.”

  “It’s a damned shame, I think, his attitude about Rachel.”

  “He probably can’t help how he feels. Don’t they say that parents usually do have a favorite? It doesn’t mean they don’t love their other children as much, just that maybe they can’t relate to them as well.” Rachel had told herself this so many times, she could say it easily. “I mean, you know, Daddy’s so different from her.”

  “Have you ever tried to talk to him about it?”

  Rachel shook her head.

  “Maybe you should.”

  There was something about his expression that confused Rachel. Something almost…accusatory. Could that possibly be? Could David be thinking something negative about Roxanne? The idea brought a burst of happiness. “Don’t you think Rachel is the one who should talk to Daddy?” she said slowly.

  “Yeah, I’d like to see her stick up for herself and quit letting your father put her down the way he does, but I also think you should—” Abruptly, he broke off. “Nope. Sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you what to do. This is none of my business.”

  “Of course it’s your business.”

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not. Your re
lationship with your sister and your father is yours, just as my relationship with my grandmother is mine.”

  With every word, David’s integrity and basic decency was reinforced. With every word, Rachel felt a little smaller than she’d felt before.

  Oh, David, how I hope you won’t hate me. How I hope someday you’ll understand.

  For a while they ate in silence. Then, just as David finished his meal, he said, “You know, it really is unlike Rachel to have just left like that.”

  Rachel had hoped they’d exhausted the subject of her supposed defection, at least for now. She sighed. “Yes, but the way things happened, she really didn’t have much of a choice.”

  “Why didn’t she?”

  “Well, I didn’t tell Daddy this, but Carlos came to the church and…and he begged her to come with him. I mean, he was virtually on his way out of town when he decided he couldn’t leave without her. And, you know, the wedding was going to start in just minutes, and she didn’t want—”

  “I understand all that. But she still could have come out and at least spoken to your father,” David insisted. “It would have been the right thing to do.”

  “She didn’t want to upset him right before the wedding.”

  “That doesn’t make sense.”

  No, of course it didn’t make sense, Rachel thought glumly, because “Rachel” had upset her father right before the wedding, anyway. “I guess she wasn’t thinking straight. It…it was such an emotional moment and Carlos was insisting she leave with him right then.”

  “He sounds like a jerk.”

  Rachel hadn’t thought she could feel any worse than she already did, but the more David talked, the more miserable she became. “He’s not a jerk, David. He’s really a nice guy. I think he was just scared he’d lose her. You know, afraid if he didn’t get—” she swallowed “—Rachel…to go with him then, she would never go. That maybe, if she went out to talk to Daddy, he would somehow talk her out of going.”

  David seemed about to say something else, then shrugged. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right. I just…I don’t know, she’s always been such a straight shooter, this just surprised me.”