by Gina Wilkins
And then her eyes widened and the color drained from her cheeks. “Has something happened to Chloe?”
“Chloe’s fine,” he reassured her automatically, even as he took in her appearance. She looked…different. Her hair was tousled, her eyes were emphasized with smoky shadow and liner, and her abbreviated T-shirt clung a bit too faithfully to her breasts. Its hem ended a couple inches above the top of her hip-riding jeans, revealing a well-toned midriff.
She looked great. Which only made his frown deepen. “Chloe is fine,” he repeated. “Where the hell have you been?”
Her relief was palpable. “You just took ten years off my life. When I saw you standing there, I thought something must have—”
“You haven’t answered my question,” he cut in flatly. “Where have you been?”
Her chin rose as her eyes narrowed. “I’ve been out. And you didn’t answer my question. What are you doing in my apartment? How did you get in?”
“We can stand here the rest of the night—what little there is left of it, anyway—hurling the same questions at each other, but you might as well know that you aren’t getting rid of me until I get some answers. I want to know if you intentionally threw off the security detail I assigned to you—and if so, why.”
“I had plans for the evening. If your bodyguard missed seeing me leave, that’s not really my problem, is it?”
“It is most definitely your problem if you deliberately slipped away from him. And considering that you must have left the building in a roundabout way that let you get away unnoticed, my bet is that you knew exactly what you were doing.”
She bent to pick up her purse and keys, a movement that also allowed her to avoid his eyes. “How long have you been here?”
“Too long.” He opened his phone and began to punch in Chloe’s number. “I have to call your sister. She’s worried sick about you.”
Grace looked at him skeptically. “I told Chloe I had plans. The only reason she would be worried is if you got her all upset.”
He back teeth ground so tightly together that he could hear his jaw pop. “Chloe understands the reason I’ve provided security for you, whether you like it or not.”
Donovan answered the call. “Did you find her?”
“Yeah. She just walked in.” Bryan watched as Grace tossed her things on a table, then moved into the kitchen to fill a glass with water.
“She’s okay?”
“For the moment.”
Donovan chuckled. “Take it easy on her, Bryan. Chloe told you she was probably fine. But I’ll let Chloe know she’s home.”
“Do that.” Bryan disconnected the call, then followed Grace into the kitchen. “Do you know it’s 2:00 a.m.?”
She set her empty glass in the sink. “I’m perfectly capable of reading a clock. I hope you didn’t wake Chloe and Donovan.”
“They weren’t asleep. They were pacing the floor with worry about you!” Damn it, now he was shouting. But she frustrated him to no end with her refusal to answer his questions and her lack of reaction to his temper—or the genuine concern that lay behind the anger.
Once again the look Grace gave him was disbelieving. “They were pacing the floor?”
Because he knew Chloe would mention that she hadn’t been overly worried about her sister on this occasion, Bryan growled, “Well, they should have been. Anything could have happened to you out on the streets by yourself at this hour.”
“I’ve been living on my own for several years. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“You purposefully eluded the security guard, didn’t you?” It seemed important to make her admit it.
She shrugged, which he took as an affirmative answer.
“Why?” he demanded. “You’re free to go anywhere you want and stay as long as you like. The security guard has instructions to remain totally in the background unless you need assistance, so neither you nor anyone else should even be aware of his presence.”
“I’m always aware of their presence,” she snapped back. “I hate being followed around all the time, knowing that everything I do is being reported straight to you.”
“I don’t get reports of everything you do. Hell, Grace, I don’t care what stops you make as long as you’re safe. The only reports made to me are when the guards go on and off duty, and whether anyone suspicious tried to approach you at any time.”
“Then how did you know to come here tonight? If, as you said, no one saw me leave or knew where I was, how did you know I wasn’t in my apartment?”
“The guard noticed your car was missing when he made his final round before leaving for the night. He knew the car was there earlier and it concerned him that he hadn’t seen you emerge from the usual exit. He realized the only other way out was the service entrance, which wasn’t being watched since it was assumed you were safe in your apartment for the night. He contacted me, as he’d been instructed to do. Because I couldn’t believe you would be foolhardy enough to pull a stunt like this, I operated on the assumption that you were in trouble.”
“And you overreacted.”
“Damn it, Grace.” He stepped toward her and caught her forearms in his hands. It was all he could do not to shake her. “I was worried about you. You know Wallace Childers is still out there somewhere, and that he still hates me for putting an end to his crooked business practices.”
“You told me you were confident Childers has left the country. And that he’s too cowardly to come after you or anyone else you care about again.”
“I said I was pretty sure that was the case. If I’d been completely confident, I wouldn’t have been so insistent about security.”
“Well, as you can see, I’m fine. I’m safely home, and I’m sure you’ll make certain I don’t have a chance to slip out on my own again.”
The somberness of her words made him shake his head. “It’s only for a little while longer. Just a few more weeks, and this will all be over.”
She turned her head away so he couldn’t see her expression. “As you pointed out, it’s very late, and I’m tired. I’m sorry I worried you, and I’ll try not to do so again. I just needed a few hours to myself.”
He made a deliberate effort to loosen his grasp on her, though he didn’t release her. He wanted to ask her again where she’d been. He bit the words back because he knew he had no right to ask. He would insist on providing her with security, but as long as she cooperated in that respect, she was free to go wherever she wanted. With whomever she wanted.
Instead he said, “If this is getting to be too much for you, we can find a way to end it now. We’ll have a public spat or something.”
“The deal was, we have our so-called ‘break-up’ after the wedding so we don’t attract any negative attention beforehand. I’m not backing out on my part of the arrangement.”
“But if…”
She broke away from him, her face set in stubborn lines. “I’m sticking with it—unless you want out.”
“No,” he said quickly. “I still think it’s a good plan.”
“Fine. Now go away and let me get some rest.”
“You aren’t planning to leave again tonight, are you?”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s two in the morning. The only place I’m going is to bed.”
“I don’t suppose you want company…”
“Go home, Bryan.”
He managed a weak smile. She assumed, of course, that he’d been joking. This wasn’t the time to let her know he’d been quite serious. One sign from her and he’d have her in bed so fast her head would spin. Maybe it was a culmination of his emotions during the past few hours—but he suspected this had been building a lot longer than that. He wasn’t sure when, exactly, he’d decided he wanted Grace Pennington, but he had no doubt of it now.
Trouble was, she didn’t want him. And he didn’t know where she had been this evening—or with whom. All in all, his chances with her weren’t looking too good at the moment.
Deci
ding he’d better leave before he dug himself any deeper, he turned toward the door. “Lock the door behind me.”
“Locking the door didn’t keep you out.”
He only looked at her over his shoulder, waiting until she sighed and joined him at the door. He opened the door, then paused in the doorway. Studying her closely, he saw signs of her weariness—a smudge of purple beneath her eyes, a slight droop to her shoulders. His voice softened when he spoke again, “I really was worried about you, Grace.”
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue before murmuring, “Um…I appreciate the concern. It just wasn’t necessary.”
He would have liked to kiss her then, just to reassure himself that she was all right. But since he’d spent the past several minutes chewing her out, he doubted that she would be receptive to a kiss from him. He cheered himself with the reminder that he would be spending the next day with her. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning at ten.”
There was little expression on her face when she nodded. “Good night, Bryan.”
He heard the locks click into place after she closed the door between them. It gave him the depressing feeling that she was locking him out of her life.
Squaring his shoulders, he turned toward the elevator, reminding himself that even Grace had acknowledged that he wasn’t an easy man to lock out.
Even though she was exhausted by the time she crawled into bed, Grace didn’t rest well. Her emotions were still in turmoil from her confrontation with Bryan. She was still angry with him for challenging her right to go out without his assigned escort, yet she couldn’t help remembering that there had been genuine concern for her in his eyes.
She told herself not to read too much into that. Bryan was the overly responsible type; he’d promised that no harm would come to her because of her association with him, and he would go overboard in his efforts to keep that promise. He would do the same for anyone.
As for the other overtures he’d been making to her lately—the kisses, the long looks, the unexpected offer to join her in bed, which may or may not have been made in jest—she would have to keep those in perspective, as well. Flirting came as naturally as breathing to Bryan; she’d seen him work that same natural charm on blushing senior citizens.
What really concerned her was the possibility that he was beginning to see her as a substitute for her sister. He’d been attracted to Chloe, and so impressed by her that he’d actually considered marrying her. Was it really so farfetched that he could be transferring those abruptly derailed feelings to Chloe’s identical twin?
Bryan had been drawn to Chloe’s gentle, peaceful, competent and dependable nature, seeing in her the ideal potential mate for a wealthy, powerful, socially prominent man, and future mother of his children. Except for appearance, Grace was nothing like her sister. Nor was she willing to change to suit anyone’s image of what she should be like. Not again.
The best plan of action, therefore, was to continue to demonstrate to Bryan that she wasn’t the type of woman he’d been searching for. If he was making the mistake of seeing her as a convenient substitute, he had to be shown the error of that thinking. And there was no better way to show him than to be herself around him.
The problem was, she had to keep reminding herself, as well as Bryan, that they were all wrong for each other. There were times when it was a bit too easy to pretend that the charade was real.
The telephone woke her at just after 8:30 a.m. She felt as though she’d only managed a couple hours sleep, and she answered the phone with a yawn. “H’lo?”
“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” Chloe asked.
Grace wriggled to an upright position, pushing her tumbled hair out of her eyes with her free hand. “It’s okay. I have to get up, anyway.”
“I take it you’re uninjured?”
“I’m fine. Sorry Bryan worried you last night with his tantrum.”
“Maybe you should have told him you planned to go out last night?”
Grace sighed. “I’ve already gotten this lecture from Bryan. Don’t you start.”
“He was pretty mad, huh?”
Grace remembered the moment she had first spotted Bryan standing in the center of her living room, his expression forbidding, his posture letting her know he was poised for battle. “You could say that.”
“It hasn’t been that long since Donovan and I were kidnapped. The nightmare is still fresh to Bryan. I figured you’d just slipped off with some of your friends, but Bryan doesn’t know you as well as I do. He was half convinced that Wallace Childers had resurfaced and snatched you for ransom—or revenge.”
“He overreacted, obviously. But I’ll try not to set him off again.”
“You’ll cooperate with his security measures?”
“Within reasonable bounds.”
“That sounds like another argument waiting to happen—but I’ll leave it to you and Bryan to work out between you. You’re still seeing him today?”
“He’s picking me up at ten.”
Chloe cleared her throat. “He was very worried about you last night. It really shook him to think you could be in trouble.”
“As I said, he overreacted.”
“He seems to be growing quite fond of you. I can tell he’s enjoyed the time he’s spent with you.”
Uh-oh. Grace frowned into the receiver. “Bryan and I have a common interest—making sure you and Donovan have a pleasant, problem-free wedding. That’s all there is to it.”
“I don’t know. I think you’re kind of nice together. Bryan thrives on challenges—and you certainly challenge him.”
“And I think you’re getting carried away with your wedding planning. You’re seeing everything through a romantic haze.”
“Still…”
“Forget it, Chloe. I don’t want you playing match-maker between Bryan and me. You’d be wasting your time.”
“Weren’t you and Bryan the ones who conspired to bring Donovan and me back together after we were rescued from Childers’s men?” Chloe retorted. “The two of you went so far as to strand us together at Mom and Dad’s vacation cabin because you decided it was the only way to get Donovan to admit his feelings for me.”
“That was different. You and Donovan were obviously in love with each other. You were both too timid and befuddled to do anything about it without a little nudge.”
“So maybe you need a little nudge?”
“That’s the last thing I need,” Grace answered flatly. “Bryan and I are nothing more than coconspirators. Casual friends with a mutual interest, at most. Promise me you’ll stop trying to make any more out of it than that.”
“I just—”
“Chloe.” Grace spoke sternly this time, making it very clear the matter wasn’t open to discussion. “Promise me.”
Sighing heavily, Chloe conceded. “Okay. I’ll stay out of it.”
“Promise?”
“I promise, okay? Bryan doesn’t need my help, anyway. He’s not in the least timid about expressing his feelings.”
Grace decided to let that statement pass. “I’d better start getting ready. Thanks for calling to check on me.”
“Of course. I’ll see you later. Call if you want to talk. About anything, okay?”
Grace was well aware that Chloe was always available for her, and she said so before she disconnected the call. Because she was tempted to curl back up in bed and pull the covers over her head, she made herself swing her legs over the side and stand before she changed her mind.
Forty-five minutes later, she had showered, eaten a light breakfast of a bagel and diet cola and dressed in a melon-colored pullover and brief khaki shorts. Bryan had told her to dress casually and comfortably, and she’d taken him at his word.
It was going to be a hot, clear day, the temperature predicted to rise into the upper nineties, and the humidity almost as high. She pulled her hair up into a ponytail, making no effort to restrain the short tendrils that escaped at the back of her neck. She wore minimal make
up and no jewelry other than her functional silver-toned watch. She completed the ensemble with her favorite clunky sandals.
She looked very different from the elegantly dressed and carefully accessorized woman who’d accompanied Bryan to his fancy shindigs during the past few weeks, she decided with a glance at her reflection. This was the real Grace Pennington. No designer labels, no fancy jewelry, no sexy—and excruciatingly painful—high-heeled shoes. If Bryan wanted to be seen with a fashion doll, he could go back to dating his supermodels.
She spent the remainder of her time before he arrived pacing and giving herself a pep talk about how to behave with Bryan today. Not too combative—there was no reason they shouldn’t make the best of this outing—but not meekly agreeable to everything he said, either. If he flirted—as he quite likely would—she would respond with nonencouraging stares or chilly half smiles.
She would cheerfully discuss Chloe’s wedding, current events or business matters, but she would firmly refuse to talk about last night, making it quite clear that her personal life was none of his concern. They should be able to spend a cordial and pleasant day together for the benefit of whatever tabloid gossips were keeping track of them, and then they would go their own ways again until the next time they decided a public appearance was in order.
It sounded like a good plan—if Bryan would cooperate.
When the doorbell rang, she jumped to her feet, smoothed her hands down her shorts and composed her face into what she hoped was a blandly polite expression. Only then did she open the door. “Good morning, Bryan.”
Dressed in a green polo shirt and faded jeans, he was almost hidden behind an enormous bouquet of sunset-orange roses. “Good morning, Grace.”
She couldn’t help but be impressed by the flowers. They were magnificent, so vividly colored she almost blinked from their brightness. Trust Bryan to choose such an unusual shade rather than the more traditional pink, white or red roses—and to know that this more exuberant color suited her better. “They’re beautiful.”
“They reminded me of you.” He placed the big bouquet in her hands. “Consider them an apology for yelling at you last night. I still disagree with your decision to go off alone the way you did, but I shouldn’t have ambushed you about it.”