One-Click Buy: September 2010 Silhouette Desire

by Brenda Jackson

  Inasmuch as it was wrong, they’d made their own decisions. Chosen men who’d offered the security they’d craved as children. That Rina’s choice had been proven totally wide of the mark, with Jacob’s eventual defection, only made it clearer to her how wrong it was for Sara to go ahead and marry Rey. But that remained her sister’s choice.

  Rina curled up in a small ball at the edge of the bed, her stomach a tight mass of pain, her chest aching with unshed tears as she tried to come to terms with how Sara would feel when she told her the truth. And she would tell her. There was no way she could hide anything as monumental as what she’d done. She’d made a choice of her own tonight, and again it had been the wrong one.

  She could only hope that her sister would forgive her.

  Rey shifted on the bed beside her, his arm snaking over her body and pulling her into the curve of his stomach. Her bare buttocks nestled against his lower abdomen and she felt his body stir at her touch. Even in sleep, he wanted her.

  Her sister’s forgiveness was one thing, but what would Reynard say when she told him that the woman he’d made love to was not who he’d thought? There was no way she could continue the pretense until Sara arrived home. No way she could look him in the eye and not tell him how much she, Rina, loved him.

  Eventually sleep claimed her and calmed her mind, but not before she'd resolved to face Rey with the full truth when he awoke. As much as her sister's forgiveness was vital to her, his meant so very much more.

  Fourteen

  As cold fingers of light began to poke through the window in the colorless predawn morning, Rina stirred on the bed. Her body was sated but her mind was instantly tumbling with all she had to say today. She slid from the tangled sheets and grabbed a light robe off the back of a chair in the corner of the room. Hers? Sara’s? She didn’t know anymore. She’d blurred so many lines she’d almost lost touch with who she was truly meant to be.

  She went to the bathroom to relieve herself then walked silently to the kitchen, automatically measuring out coffee and water in the percolator and setting the gas burner to heat. She knew it was still ridiculously early but by the same token she couldn’t lie next to Reynard another minute with all the guilt that now racked her, body and soul.

  Just inside the front door, on the table where the lamp still burned she spied her evening bag. Inside was her mobile phone. She crossed the room to get it. Now that she’d made her decision, she had to get off her chest what she’d done. Was it too ridiculously early to call Sara?

  She flicked a glance at the wall clock in the kitchen. 6:00 a.m. Probably too early but she had to shed this burden before it crushed her, and that started with Sara.

  As she slid the BlackBerry from its little pouch inside the evening bag, she noticed she had three missed calls already. She’d put the phone on silent mode last night before going out and in the excitement when they’d returned to the cottage, she’d forgotten to change the setting. On checking the log she noted two were last night and one already this morning. All were from Sara.

  So, she’d made her decision.

  Rina’s heart sank. The very fact that her sister had tried so often to reach her meant that she must have made up her mind. Sara had never known restraint. One message would never be enough.

  With shaking hands, she started to dial her voice mail, only to nearly drop her phone when it vibrated in her hand. She gathered her startled thoughts together and hit the talk button.

  “Sara?”

  “Oh, thank goodness I got you this time. Where have you been? Actually, never mind about that. I just wanted to let you know, I’m coming back today—”

  Sara’s voice faded out on a burst of static.

  “Back today? What time?” Rina asked, the weight of guilt in her chest warring with looking forward to seeing her twin again.

  “…so excited… I’ve been so silly but I reached my decision…coming to talk to Rey…getting married…can’t wait to see you—”

  Rina’s heart dropped straight to her feet. She tried to pull words from her mind but nothing would cooperate, and then, on another burst of static, her link to her sister was gone. Rina’s legs turned to water and she sank onto the nearest piece of furniture, a wooden straight-backed chair. The cool of the wood seeped through the light material of her robe and into her skin and a shiver ran through her body. The phone fell from her hand to the tiled floor, the back cover bursting off and the battery scattering a short distance away.

  Sara was coming back to marry Rey. She’d made her decision without knowing that her sister, her twin, had betrayed her in the worst way possible. Rina began to feel her hold on reality slip away. Not only had she done the worst thing imaginable by sleeping with her sister’s fiancé, she would now irrevocably lose them both.

  It was time to come clean. First with Rey, then with Sara when she arrived. What she’d done was monstrous, and she could only hold onto the thin reed of hope that her sister could one day find it in her heart to forgive her for what she’d done. Sara had been clear that she hadn’t loved Rey, but that didn’t make what Rina had done last night any less despicable. Reynard had given her the choice to send him away. She’d chosen not to. Everything—every touch, every sigh, every starburst of pleasure—it was all her fault and it was time she became accountable.

  She forced herself to her feet and went to the kitchen, gathering two mugs and pouring coffee for each of them. It was time to face the music.

  Rey was sprawled over the bed on his stomach, his dark hair endearingly rumpled, his tanned skin a dark contrast to the white sheet that curved lovingly across his buttocks and obscured his legs from view. The fingers of one hand splayed across her pillow, much as they’d splayed across her body in those moments when they’d slept last night. A painful tug in her chest reminded her that he wasn’t hers to view.

  She put both coffees on the bedside table and reached out a hand to wake him. The instant her fingers touched his shoulder, they tingled. Even now, knowing he was forbidden to her, knowing she had to deliver to him the painful truth about what she’d done—how she’d deceived him—her body still responded on an instinctual level.

  She leaned over the bed and gave him a little shake. “Rey? Wake up, I need to talk to you.”

  His dark lashes flickered on his cheek before he opened his eyes, lifted his head and rolled onto his side. The instant his gaze met hers, his eyes began to burn with the hunger she recognized, and couldn’t help but share. He reached out one hand to touch her face, his fingers stroking her cheek and coming to rest on her lips, still swollen from last night’s feverish kisses.

  “Buenos dias.” He smiled and slid his hand around to cup the back of her head and pull her down for a kiss.

  At the tenderness of his touch upon her lips, the burning sting of tears pricked at the back of Rina’s eyes. She squeezed her eyelids shut. She couldn’t cry in front of him. Not now. Somehow she found the strength to pull away and stand at the edge of the bed.

  “Already tired of me?” Rey teased from within the untidy evidence of last night’s passion.

  “No, it’s not that.” She grabbed his mug off the nightstand and passed it to him. “Here, have this.”

  Rey pulled himself upright against the headboard and took the mug from her, his fingers grazing hers.

  “I’d rather have you, querida.”

  He wouldn’t want her again after what she had to say. Rina took a sip of her coffee and instantly wished she hadn’t. The dark brew caught in her throat and she fought to swallow it past the restriction there.

  “Sar—” Rey started. “Is everything all right?”

  Rina couldn’t meet his eyes. Instead she put her coffee cup down and perched on the very edge of the bed.

  “I…I’m not who you think I am,” she began.

  Rey felt the familiar boil of anger start deep in his belly. So, this was it? She had gotten what she was after? That was the only reason he could think of for why now she wanted to tell the trut
h. It had been foolish of him to give her and her sister the very ammunition they needed by sleeping with her last night. Hell, sleeping? They’d achieved very little of that. The sex had been great.

  A prick of conscience jabbed at the back of his mind. Great? It had been better than great. And it had been so much more than just sex. He’d made love with her, worshipped her, taken and received pleasure such as he had never experienced with another before. Resolutely, he squashed those thoughts. The Woodville sisters had an agenda. When he hadn’t been sexually attracted to the one, they’d delivered on the other—and he’d let them. Did that make him a bastard for taking advantage of the situation?

  Not at all. He’d be damned if he’d let them screw one Euro from his family.

  “I know who you are,” he replied, his voice deadpan.

  Shock flew across Sarina’s face. “You know?”

  “You are Sarina Woodville. Younger twin and sister to Sara Woodville—my fiancée.”

  “How did you…? When?” Her eyes flew to the bed. “Why?”

  “How? Well, you are indeed a perfect replica of your sister but there are some things you cannot fake and your sister’s nature is one of them.”

  “But you never said—”

  “Never called you on it? Why would I? I didn’t have time to deal with your silly games. At the time my first priority was my brother, my second, Abuelo. And then you started helping me at the office at a time when help was badly needed. I suppose I’ve received recompense for at least some of what you and your sister have cost me.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “I realized that you weren’t Sara when I kissed you. I knew instantly you were not the woman I’d asked to be my fiancée.”

  “How?” The word came out in a strangled gasp.

  How? He was not likely to tell her the truth—how kissing her sister had been a pleasant diversion whereas kissing her had been an experience that had blown his mind off the Richter scale.

  He did not want to think of that now. Nor of the delight he’d experienced when they’d danced together at the tapas bar, or of the intellectual satisfaction he’d gained while they’d worked together. He especially did not want to think of how she’d made him feel last night.

  “How matters not. What’s important is that I caught onto your deception early enough to stop you when you tried to capitalize on it.”

  “Capitalize on it? I don’t understand. Sara just asked me to—”

  “Just asked you to lie to me? Deceive me? Set me and my family up for scandal and humiliation?” He smiled, although he had never felt any less humor in his life. “You see, the del Castillo family are well versed in the tricks of others. You two are not the first to think you can deceive us into what appears to be a relationship and then subsequently sell our family to the media, or worse, threaten to do so to extort money from us. We are not so dull witted that we will allow this to happen, no matter how much stress we are under.”

  “But it’s not true,” she insisted. Her face had paled, her pupils massively dilated, her hands trembled. “We aren’t trying to extort money from you. Far from it. Sara didn’t want to upset you—”

  He snorted. “Upset me? You two have far from upset me. You disgust me with your avaricious lies. I know she needs sponsorship to continue with her horses, she was at least honest about that while she was here. But clearly that wasn’t all she wanted, nor you. Tell me, when your fiancé broke off your engagement, was it because he’d discovered just how duplicitous you are? Or did you discover that he wasn’t worth the bother and decided to come here for bigger fish to fry?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” she cried, her slender shoulders slumped forward and what appeared to be grief slanted raw and stark across her face.

  Oh, she was a good actress. He’d give her that. Even now, some traitorous instinct wanted to reach out to her, comfort her, pull her into his arms and take away all of her pain. He ruthlessly pushed the urge away. She was manipulating him again. He would not allow himself to fall for it.

  “Rey, you have to believe me. I could never do what you’re suggesting. I love you!”

  The anger that had been simmering low in his gut exploded into a red haze of fury. It wasn’t enough for her that she’d seduced his body and his mind—now she thought she could play with his heart, as well? He pushed himself up, dragging the top sheet off the bed and wrapping it around his hips. His forgotten coffee mug crashed to the floor and splintered into a dozen pieces, dark liquid spilling across the tiles.

  “Love? You dare to tell me you love me?”

  “It’s true, I do love you. I didn’t expect to—I certainly didn’t want to. You’re engaged to my sister.”

  “Was engaged to your sister.”

  “But we weren’t…we didn’t… Please at least hear her out.”

  “I’ll hear her out, all right, before I send you both packing off the island. You are no longer welcome here. I think you’ll find your visa rescinded by this afternoon.”

  Rey dropped the sheet and stepped into his trousers, eschewing the rest of his clothing which he bunched into a bundle and tucked under his arm.

  “Rey, please don’t go. Please don’t leave like this. I know I should have told you everything from the beginning but there was no right time.”

  She thrust out her left hand in an attempt to stop him as he stalked past. The diamond ring he’d given Sara still glinted on her finger, caught in the rays of the rising sun as they filtered through the window. Already the heat of the day was streaming in, but inside him he’d never in his life felt so cold. He looked pointedly at the ring on her finger.

  “That is not yours to wear.”

  “I know, I’m sorry.” She bent her head and pulled the ring off her finger before dropping it into his outstretched hand.

  Reynard shoved the ring in his pocket. If he never saw it again it would be too soon.

  “I will make the arrangements for you to leave Isla Sagrado at once. One of my staff will call you with the details,” he said as he covered the short distance to the bedroom door. He stopped inside the doorway and hesitated a moment, then turned to deliver his parting shot in scathing tones.

  “Oh, and thanks for last night. That definitely made it all worthwhile.”

  Fifteen

  It was well into the morning before Rina could bring herself to move from the bed. She’d curled into a fetal position of silent suffering in the face of Rey’s bitter anger. Finally, the worst of the anguish passed, leaving her blessedly numb. Like an automaton, she gathered the sheets and bedcover off the bed and staggered through to the washing machine, set in an alcove in the bathroom. She shoved the linens into the machine, added soap and turned it on.

  Continuing to go through the motions, she took a shower and washed herself thoroughly—washed away every last touch or caress that Reynard had given her.

  A while later, back in the bedroom, when she reached for the first thing at hand, she remembered she was no longer wearing her sister’s clothes. She was no longer Sara Woodville, but Sarina. She bent and dragged her suitcase from the bottom of the small cupboard, put it on the bare bed and wrestled the zip open. She grabbed the outfit on top—a pair of white capri pants and a mint green T-shirt. It was little comfort but it felt good to be in her own clothes again.

  Since she’d been here, aside from her lingerie, she’d hardly worn her own clothing. She turned back to the wardrobe and fingered the fabric of the blue dress she’d worn on the night they’d almost made love for the first time. She should have told him then, she thought.

  She’d felt so beautiful that night. So desired, even if it was all wrong. It occurred to her that he’d known even then that she wasn’t Sara. And knowing she wasn’t, he’d still wined and dined her, had performed intimacies on her that had tested her resilience beyond her expectations. A resilience that had broken under his kiss last night.

  He’d meant to make love to her all along. A bubble of anger started t
o bloom in the pit of her stomach. What kind of man made love to one sister while still engaged to the other? Was he so calculated and so removed from genuine emotion? And Sara still expected to marry him.

  She sank to her knees on the cold tile floor. Oh God, Sara. She was returning today. How on earth was she going to tell her what she’d done?

  Reynard paced back and forth in his office, his mind tumbling with anger and confusion. His behavior toward Sarina was justified. More than justified, he told himself for the hundredth time since he’d gotten into his Ferrari and raced back to the city. But try as he might, he couldn’t ignore the sharp tearing pain in the region of his heart as he considered the woman he’d made love with last night.

  He’d been harsh in the face of her confession. Cruel, also, as he’d left. Neither state came naturally to him but, considering what had happened with Estella and then the discovery of the twins’ deception, what else was he to do?

  He dropped into his leather executive chair behind his desk, put his head against the high back and closed his eyes. Sarina’s image was branded across his mind. The look on her face last night when she’d decided not to send him on his way. The passion when he’d entered her body for the first time. The hurt, the shock as he’d let loose his venom this morning—each word an individual blow calculated to hurt her.

  He’d known all along about the lies, and yet, when she’d admitted it to him, it had roused in him a new fury. Why? He’d known, even when he’d asked to stay the night with her, that this choice was bound to be exactly what she needed for her plan. He should have expected her to tell him the truth when morning rolled around. Why had he been surprised? Had he fooled himself into believing that their lovemaking meant something to her? That she had not embarked upon a course of treachery and deceit for mercenary gain, but had, instead, shared her bed with him for no reason other than her own desire?