Devil in Disguise

by Heather Huffman

  “Any thoughts on when the big day is?” Charlie asked amicably.

  “Rachel here thinks you should marry us right now,” Conrad tattled.

  “It was a joke.” Rachel waved off Charlie’s panicked look. “There are a lot of considerations we’ll have to talk through before we set a date.”

  “I think you should get married now.” Julia surprised everyone by speaking up. All eyes turned toward her.

  “We can talk about this later. I was hoping to catch you alone tonight to see what you thought about being my maid of honor. We can toss around some dates then.” Rachel tried to keep her voice light.

  “Sure, I’ll be your maid of honor. But I think you should do it now. I need something normal.”

  Rachel tried to read her sister’s body language, not sure how to respond.

  It was Conrad who broke the silence. “I appreciate you having my back. I need to get this deal done before your sister comes to her senses.”

  “Right now? You don’t have a license.” Charlie was the voice of reason.

  “Of course not right now.” Neena rolled her eyes. “Tomorrow.”

  “You won’t have a license tomorrow either,” Charlie argued.

  “They can do it again with a license later.” Neena’s expression plainly said she thought her point should have been obvious.

  “Sure. Whatever. I’m not going to be the stick in the mud here because I’m, you know, stating facts.”

  “It’s the facts and the preacher-boy thing,” Conrad teased with a wink at Neena.

  “Be nice, or I won’t officiate your pretend wedding.”

  “Was your wedding pretend?” Rachel interjected. “Wasn’t that license invalid because Neena hadn’t legally changed her name yet?”

  “That was a technicality.”

  Rachel blinked at him.

  “I already said I’d do it.” Charlie threw his hands in the air. With that, the little group fell into heated wedding plans. Rachel let Neena and Rosemary do most of the talking. She was content to nestle up against Conrad’s side and finally eat her gumbo.

  Hours later, when the details had all been worked out for their impromptu wedding with no marriage license and a dozen guests, Rachel lay in bed, her arm draped over Julia, trying to still her mind so she could get some sleep.

  “Rachel?” Julia tentatively checked to see if her sister was awake.

  “Yes, baby girl?”

  “Will it embarrass you if I wear my hat tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know – will it embarrass you if I do? Because I was kind of hoping Neena had another hat like yours for me to borrow.”

  “Probably, but I doubt you can rock the cowgirl look like I do.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RACHEL DID, IN FACT, rock the cowgirl look. That’s what she told herself, anyway, as she inspected her reflection in the mirror. A shopping trip two towns away had turned up a white babydoll sundress. Another town offered strappy translucent silver heels. Her hair was pulled into a low, twisted ponytail, with tendrils escaping to frame her face. Neena had placed the straw hat with turquoise beading in the band on Rachel’s head, proclaiming it both something borrowed and something blue.

  “The dress and shoes are something new,” Julia chimed in, twirling to show off her own vibrant pink maxi dress. “And they’re super cute.”

  “Thanks.” Rachel gave a saucy half shrug. “So what’s my something old?”

  “These.” Rosemary took Rachel’s hand in her own. Rachel’s quizzical look turned radiant when Rosemary removed her hand, leaving behind the wedding rings she and Michael Cooper had worn.

  “I couldn’t. They’re too special.”

  “They shouldn’t be hiding in a box. Besides, maybe it’ll make up for your daddy not being here today. Anyway, where else are you going to get a ring big enough for that man of yours in a town this size? You had to go to three different towns just to find him a suit.”

  “Thank you.” Rachel held the white-gold bands out for Julia, Neena, Gabrielle, and Cara to inspect.

  “They’re gorgeous. I love the engraving work,” Neena complimented.

  “Wow, Mom, who knew you had a diamond like that stashed away?” Julia looked at her mom with renewed appreciation.

  Rosemary smiled wistfully. “Michael liked to buy me pretty things.”

  “Well, thank you for these, Mom. I’ll treasure them.”

  “You’re welcome. I asked Conrad earlier if it was okay. I mean, he might have had a ring picked out or something. Anyway, we’d better get on downstairs soon.” Rosemary pointed at the clock on the wall. “The boys said they’d be ready by six.”

  Rachel nodded, butterflies fluttering through her stomach. She wondered if she was insane to marry Conrad with so much going on and after so much time apart. There were human traffickers out there actively looking for the man to kill him, and here she was acting like nothing mattered but their little love story. She wondered if she’d lost all grip on reality.

  Rachel had worked herself worked into a full-fledged panic when Neena grabbed her by the hand and led her down the hall to her own bedroom, coming to a stop beside her window.

  “Do you know what this spot is?” Neena looked up into Rachel’s eyes intently.

  “Your bedroom window? I’m afraid to guess what else.”

  “This is the exact spot where I stood eavesdropping the first time you ever came to my house. Do you remember that night?”

  “I came to try to get an interview with Charlie during Mary O’Donnell’s trial. The second your brother answered the door, I knew there was more to the story than I’d realized. I was dying to get a peek in this house.”

  “I was up here, watching you stand toe to toe with my brother, something few people are brave enough to do. I told Charlie right then and there that you two were meant to be together. I saw it from all the way up here.”

  “You did?”

  “I also gave him grief for being too quick to agree that you were cute, but that’s beside the point.”

  Rachel smiled. Poor Charlie.

  “I brought you here because you were starting to look scared, and while I understand why, I truly believe in my heart that you are the other half of Conrad, and he’s the other half of you. Everything else, well, it’ll be okay.”

  Rachel nodded, hugging Neena tight.

  “Careful. I’m a bit nauseated today.”

  “Seriously?” Rachel held Neena at arm’s length and examined her. “Again?”

  “Maybe.” Neena was sheepish.

  “If you expect Conrad and me to breed as rampantly as you and Charlie do, let me set you straight right now.”

  “I wasn’t expecting Charlie and me to breed as rampantly as we have,” Neena admitted.

  “I can send you interns for birthdays and Christmas and stuff, too, you know. You don’t have to keep having babies to get them.”

  Neena laughed out loud at that. “Come on. You’ll be late for your wedding.”

  The ceremony was outdoors; the rose-lined path leading to Neena and Charlie’s gazebo was the aisle Rachel walked down. The Torres family had been invited and now stood with Rachel and Conrad’s families. Rachel carried an eclectic bouquet of flowers from Neena’s gardens. Conrad and Charlie had worked all day to turn the yard into something from a fairytale, even stringing white lights from all the trees and throughout the gazebo.

  Conrad was so handsome it took her breath away, with his broad shoulders, new suit, and hair that had to have been tamed by Neena. A few errant strands threatened to break free, and Rachel knew it was only a matter of time until he ran his hands through it and Neena’s hard work would be for naught. If he didn’t, she would.

  But it was the look in his eyes that held her transfixed down the aisle. His eyes told her she was the most beautiful woman alive, and he was the happiest man in the world. When she slid her hands into his, so warm and large, it made hers feel delicate and protected.

  The ceremony was short a
nd sweet. Charlie managed to keep his references about a pretend marriage to himself, though Rachel had a sneaking suspicion it took great effort.

  The summer breeze caressed her skin and toyed with stray wisps of her hair. The sun inched toward its exit, though still high enough to bathe them in its warmth. Chickens scurried through the yard. Horses called to each other in the distance. It was the perfect summer evening when she pledged her life, forever and for always, to Conrad Langston.

  When he kissed his bride, his touch was reverent, the kiss tender; it left her yearning for more. In that moment, in his embrace she felt like she could fly.

  After their family had congratulated them, and after Rachel picked at the obligatory dinner, she found herself exactly where she wanted to be: in Conrad’s arms again. He hadn’t wanted to dance. He hated to dance. But for her sake, he pulled her onto the gazebo to gently sway in each other’s arms under the twinkling lights, both the ones hung by Conrad and the ones hung by God. From a radio in the background, Steve Earle and his wife, Allison Moorer, were singing to each other that the days would never be long enough.

  “Have I robbed you of something?” Conrad asked suddenly, causing Rachel to lift her head from his shoulder to look up at him curiously.

  “Not that I’m aware of. Care to expand on that?”

  “With the pretend wedding thrown together in a day. Have I robbed you of the giant wedding every girl dreams of? What about your day to be the princess?”

  “I don’t look like a princess to you?” Rachel asked with a flirty pout, pulling away to twirl for him.

  Something rumbled low in his throat; he grabbed Rachel by the waist and scooped her back to his side, pressing butterfly kisses against her neck as he whispered, “Vous êtes la seule princesse dans mon monde.”

  “I’d better be the only princess in your world,” she giggled softly. “And not every girl dreams of a big wedding. The piece of paper, the pomp and circumstance, the size of the guest list – none of that can add to or take away from the promise I made before you, God, and everyone I love tonight. I meant the words I spoke today, and I’ll mean them again when we repeat the whole thing to make it legal. What I dreamt about as a little girl, I have that right now, in this moment, in your arms. Please don’t take away from that by worrying it’s somehow not enough.”

  He kissed her in response, a long and languid kiss that drew her deeper into him. When she was certain she could stand no more of this sweet torment, he whispered against her lips: “Je t'adore vous plus avec chaque moment qui passé.”

  “I adore you more with each passing moment, too.” She nestled back against him as they resumed their easy swaying. The first strains of “Hearts of Stone” came through the speakers, bringing a smile to Rachel’s lips. She would have to tell Bruce the next time she saw him that sometimes hearts of stone come back to life.

  “Je veux être seul avec vous.” His grip on her tightened. She was pretty ready to be alone with him, too.

  “Have I ever told you how very delightful it is that you’re half French?” She very nearly purred.

  Conrad chuckled, seeming pleased at the compliment. “Can we go yet?”

  “Please.”

  Saying goodbye to their families cooled some of their ardor. It occurred to Rachel that she might not see Julia again for some time.

  “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” She fretted as she held her baby sister in her arms.

  “The Russells will take good care of me. And I have the number for the panic line if there’s any trouble.”

  “Veronica promised to check in with you a couple times a week, too. If you just want to talk, let her know and she’ll get word to me.”

  “It’s okay, Rachel. I’ll be fine. Go, and don’t feel guilty for being happy.”

  “You’re a very observant young woman.”

  “I’d have to be a pretty big idiot to miss that one.”

  “Okay, fine. I’m leaving. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Even as she said the words, she wondered just when that would be and what exactly had to happen for them to be free to come out of hiding.

  That uncertainty hung over them as they finished their goodbyes and climbed into the truck. It was quiet in the truck for the first twenty miles; Rachel and Conrad were both lost in thought. Rachel finally broke the silence.

  “Does it seem at all weird to you? That we’re on our way to our honeymoon?”

  “Twilight Zone-caliber weird.”

  “So it’s not just me. Good.”

  He shook his head. “I was determined to keep you out of the mess that is my life.”

  “And I’ve rebelled against the notion of marriage since I was a teenager.”

  “Maybe it’s better this way, then. The absurdity of how it all happened. It’s marriage on your terms.”

  “Maybe,” Rachel conceded. “It still feels weird.”

  “Want to listen to the radio?” he offered

  “Sure.”

  The only station they could find was country, but the tune was catchy, and the singer’s bass voice rumbled so low Rachel could feel it in her own belly. She rolled down her window, closed her eyes for a moment, and allowed the music to take her on a journey.

  Conrad sang along softly, surprising Rachel with his own lovely deep voice. He tapped out a beat on the steering wheel, relaxing into an easy smile. The first previously unknown fact she discovered about her new husband was that he was a country music fan. Eventually, Rachel caught on to the chorus and tentatively joined in with her own mezzo-soprano.

  The music, the night, the wind all carried away any unease. Suddenly, they were back to that magical place where no one else in the world existed or mattered except Rachel and Conrad, two halves of a whole who’d found each other again.

  They drove halfway to the cabin and checked into a chain hotel for the night. It might not have been the Ritz, but it was clean and comfortable, and Rachel had a sneaking suspicion the accommodations were about to get a lot sparser, so she should enjoy it while she could.

  When at long last she was standing alone with Conrad in their room, Rachel was overcome with an inexplicable shyness. He looked so completely tempting with his suit coat tossed over his shoulder and his tie loosened. The top button of his shirt was undone, and she could catch a glimpse of the base of his throat. She wanted him, but wasn’t sure how to bridge even the short distance between them; she was rooted to her spot.

  He seemed to sense her mood, and she wondered if even he was experiencing a touch of bashfulness, too. There was something about the expectation of the evening that was making her a nervous wreck.

  “It’s been a while.” She finally broke the silence, deciding it was best to just get it out there in the open.

  “For us or in general?” He sought clarification.

  She looked at him incredulously. “There hasn’t been anybody since you.” The thought had never occurred to her that there might have been for him.

  “Me either,” he quickly added. “I can imagine where your mind was headed by the expression on your face. But you have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that.”

  “What are you saying? Did you expect me to jump right in bed with someone else?”

  “You’re a beautiful woman. There had to have been men who tried.”

  “Yes, but there’s this magical word in the English language: ‘no.’ It holds great power.” Rachel crossed her arms and leveled her haughtiest gaze on him.

  “At least we’re not nervous anymore.”

  Rachel took a deep breath to verbally annihilate him but erupted with laughter instead. “True. Fighting always was our second-best pastime.”

  Conrad must have decided it was time for their first-best pastime because he swept her into his arms. There was no hesitation in his kiss, and his touch ignited something in Rachel. Suddenly her need for more of him was greater than her desire for air. She needed to taste that spot at the base of his throat, the one that had been taunting her since
he first loosened his tie.

  Her main focus became getting that damned shirt and tie off him so she could have deliciously free access to the location in question. She was rewarded by the sharp intake of his breath when her tongue grazed his skin.

  He held her closer, encouraging Rachel to wrap her legs around his waist so he could carry her to the bed. She would have let him carry her anywhere at that particular moment, just so long as she could continue to explore his collarbone and throat. Her hands trailed up and down his arms, savoring every contour of every muscle.

  His patience reached its bounds, and he took his turn to explore. His hands, his mouth, his tongue, each wreaked their own havoc as they traced a fiery path on her skin. His strong, dark hands stood in stark contrast to the delicate white material of her dress as he carefully slid it over her head. He paused to drink in the sight of her; she kissed each of his fingers, marveling at how perfectly formed his hands were. When she was trembling from the desire that had snaked its way around her senses, she sank her hands in his thick, soft hair and pulled him to her, claiming his lips as her own.

  She couldn’t get close enough. She couldn’t feel enough. His broad hands spanned her back, pulling her closer still. For all the dreaming about him that she’d done, she’d forgotten. She’d forgotten what it felt like to have a thousand nerve endings explode with pleasure at the same time. She’d forgotten what the phrase “dizzying heights” meant. She’d forgotten what it felt like to yearn for something so badly it caused sweet pain.

  It came crashing back to her now with all its glorious paradoxes: silken steel, tender ferocity, languid urgency. French blended with Koasati as he told her over and over again how much he adored her in both his native tongues.

  When neither had anything left to give, they lay wrapped in each other, a tangled pile of arms and legs, each absentmindedly stroking the other’s skin. Rachel’s heart soared. She’d never been happier. In the still of the night, though, she couldn’t help the fears that wound their way through her mind. Playing house with Conrad Langston might keep her worries at bay most of the time, but here, when there was nothing else to drown those worries out, she was forced to admit she’d never been more afraid of what the future would hold.