Fugitive Wife

by Miranda Lee

  His lack of sensitivity only infuriated her further.

  Alan finally communicated his own frustration with Leah by throwing the rope into her hands.

  Reluctantly, she turned her attention to the job at hand, securing the boat to the side of the lugger. Her smile was stiff as she introduced herself, then proceeded to help the party aboard, finding out in the process that the first couple were called David and Dawn, and the second Geoff and Peggy. All four were around sixty and obviously good friends, confiding in Leah within seconds that they'd all retired recently and had been travelling around Australia together for several weeks.

  The single woman's name was Sandra. She was fortyish, as Leah had guessed. Quite attractive too, she supposed, if you liked plump blondes who wore too much make-up and gushed over everything. The avid glances Alan was giving Sandra's womanly derriere as she stepped onto the deck seemed to indicate he did.

  'This is just too too exciting!' Sandra enthused, one hand fluttering up to her throat as she gazed around with seemingly enthralled eyes.

  'Watch your step,' Leah warned on sighting her high-heeled sandals. 'The deck is smooth and can be slippery.'

  'Don't you worry, sweetie,' she said smugly. 'I won't fall. These shoes and I have gone to the top of Ayer's Rock together. They're like part of me.'

  Leah could believe it. She'd met other women like Sandra on her travels. They looked all fluff on the surface, but underneath were tough as an old boot. They were survivors, the Sandras of this world. Not like the Leahs, the silly, soft, sentimental Leahs...

  Leah gathered all her newly found courage and turned to face Gerard. He rose from where he'd remained sitting at the back of the small craft, his face now the picture of puzzlement.

  Did he think he was fooling her with that stupid expression? She knew why he'd come. To get her back! The almighty Gerard Woodward could not be allowed to be seen to be a failure. His marriage could not possibly end in desertion, or, even worse... divorce!

  Her temper rose another notch, so much so that when Gerard took a step towards the front of the Zodiac she was ripe and ready for him.

  'Not you,' she spat at him, jabbing her right index finger towards his chest. 'You can just stay right there and let Alan take you back to the beach!'

  He blinked while Alan simply gaped. Leah was aware of Sandra gasping behind her.

  'Good God, Leah,' her boss spluttered. 'What's got into you?'

  I'll tell you what's got into me. That person there,' she ground out, pointing straight at Gerard's coldblooded heart, 'isn't the innocent tourist he's pretending to be. He happens to be my ex-husband. He isn't here for a simple cruise. He's here to make trouble. Believe me when I tell you he's a sneaky, conniving conman and you can't believe a word he says!'

  Alan gave the sneaky, conniving conman a darkly suspicious glance.

  'Is that true? Are you Leah's ex-husband?'

  'No,' came the cool reply.

  Leah laughed. 'Okay, so you want to be literal! Legally, you are still my husband, I guess. But I walked out on our ghastly marriage six months ago, Alan, and haven't seen this mockery of a husband since that day. In my book, that makes him about as ex as you can get.'

  'I'm not her husband, either,' the mockery said.

  Now it was Leah's turn to gape.

  'Not my husband!' she finally snapped. 'What kind of game are you playing, Gerard? You can't get a divorce in this country under twelve months, no matter how much money and connections you've got. I know. I asked.'

  'I'm not your husband because I'm not Gerard. But I can understand your mistake. I'm Gerard's twin brother...Gareth.'

  Leah was speechless. But not for long.

  'Gerard doesn't have a twin brother,' she argued. 'He doesn't have a brother at all. Period! He's an only child.'

  'Is that what he told you?' came the calm query.

  'Yes!'

  'What else?'

  'What do you mean, what else?'

  'I mean...regarding his family.'

  'He doesn't have any family. His mother and father died some years back.'

  'Our father did. But our mother is alive and well and living in New York. I spoke to her only yesterday on the telephone.'

  Leah's mouth dropped open.

  'Well, you did say you couldn't believe a word your husband said,' Alan pointed out with merciless logic.

  'Yes, but...but...' Leah's frantic gaze scanned the man standing before her, raking him from head to toe to see if there was any visible evidence this was not Gerard. Since he was dressed casually, in pale grey shorts and a navy and white striped top, she could see quite a bit of him.

  He looked leaner than Gerard, she finally conceded. And not quite as muscly. He looked older, too, with deeper lines etched around his mouth and eyes—eyes which at that moment were looking at her with a most irritating composure, as though he was patiently waiting for the truth of his identity to sink in.

  'I think you owe the man an apology, Leah,' Alan grated out.

  Leah glanced up into the man's eyes, eyes which were identical to Gerard's. They met hers levelly and quite blandly. Despite that, something decidedly sexual curled in her stomach.

  Gerard had always been able to turn her on, just by looking at her. No way could another man—not even an identical twin—reproduce what Gerard could make her feel. Such a possibility was beyond belief.

  'Never in a month of Sundays,' she bit out, 'will I apologise, because I know I'm right. This man is my husband, Gerard Woodward, no matter what clever lies he trots out.'

  'Good grief, Leah!' Alan exclaimed exasperatedly. 'Why on earth would he say he's your husband's brother if he wasn't?'

  'I don't know.' Unless it was to trick her into letting her guard down with him. Maybe he was plotting to kidnap her, or some equally appalling plan. She would put nothing past Gerard. She knew the real man now, knew what he was capable of.

  Where once she'd thought him wonderfully strong and decisive, she now knew he was cold-bloodedly ruthless. His veins ran with ice, not blood. His silver tongue spouted lies with superb ease. My God, when she thought of the thousands of times he'd told her he loved her! Every morning before he left for work. Every time he'd made love to her.

  Made love? she thought sneeringly. Such a description was a joke! Gerard had never made love to her.

  He'd seduced her. Manipulated her. Used her. Love had never come into the equation.

  Nausea swirled in her stomach at the renewal of this bitter realisation. All lies. The man was a total lie. This crazy claim about a twin brother was a lie!

  Hatred burnt in her eyes as she glared up at him. 'I'm not him,' he reiterated, in a voice so unlike Gerard's that she was momentarily thrown. Suddenly his eyes were not Gerard's, either. They were soft, and sad. Gerard had a wide range of expressions, but soft and sad was not one of them.

  Still...faith in one's husband, and one's own judgement, once lost was not easily restored.

  Leah hardened her heart against that treacherous weakness of hers to simply believe what she was told.

  'Do you honestly think you can fool me a second time?' she threw at him in her agony and fury. 'You're Gerard and nothing and no one can convince me otherwise. So, I repeat, you either go back to that beach or I will. I'll swim if I have to!'

  Alan sighed his own frustration. 'For pity's sake, Leah, you're paranoid. It's perfectly clear this chap isn't your husband. Why won't you believe him?'

  'It's all right,' the man himself said. 'I fully understand the young lady's attitude, especially since she is unfortunate enough to be my brother's wife. Gerard's not a very nice person. He can be, in fact, a bastard of the first order. But I repeat...Leah, is it?...I am not Gerard. I'm nothing like him, except in looks, which is something I can do little about. I'm sorry if I have upset you. Truly sorry.'

  Leah could only stare. An apology!

  Apologies were anathema to Gerard. He gave reasons for his actions. Sometimes excuses. But never apologies.

/>   Maybe—just maybe—this person standing before her wasn't Gerard.

  But only maybe. Leah was not about to rush into believing anything any more. Not where her husband was concerned.

  Her eyes remained hard upon him. And sceptical.

  The man who claimed he wasn't her husband shrugged. 'Perhaps you should take me back to the beach,' he directed towards Alan. 'I don't want to spoil the cruise for everyone else.'

  'Certainly not!' Alan replied. 'If Leah has a problem with your being on this cruise then she can be the one to go back to the beach. I believe you're not her ex, even if she doesn't. No man would make up such a far-fetched lie over some female who obviously doesn't want a bar of him. It doesn't make any sense. Pity Leah can't see that.'

  Leah no longer knew what to think, for Alan was right in a way. It didn't make much sense. She didn't really believe Gerard was out to kidnap her. Violence was not his bag. He always used oral persuasion to get what he wanted. At worst, he appealed to an opponent's darker side to achieve his ends, playing up to their greed, or their love of power and position.

  She couldn't see how pretending to be his twin brother could possibly persuade her back to her marriage. What could Gerard hope to achieve with a deception which could only be short-lived, at best? She would eventually find out the truth.

  'Perhaps if I might make a suggestion?'

  Leah whirled at the sound of the female voice, flushing as she realised the rest of the party had been standing around, witnessing—and possibly being entertained by—every embarrassing, humiliating word. Sandra was especially wide-eyed, obviously fascinated by the situation.

  It was Peggy who had spoken, however. Geoff s wife. Once everyone'e eyes were upon her, she went on.

  'I used to go to school with identical twins. They were the dead spit of each other, and liked to play awful jokes on everyone, swapping places all the time. But then one of them had an accident in the playground, running into another boy and chipping his front tooth. After that, we could always tell them apart. Perhaps, young man, you have some physical defect that your brother didn't have? That way this nice young lady could be sure. I can understand her reluctance to trust your word alone, if your brother is such a bad egg.'

  Peggy's suggestion had clearly poleaxed him, his shoulders stiffening with instant tension.

  Leah's stomach turned over when she saw that telltale muscle twitch along his jawline. Gerard did that all the time when put into an awkward or unpalatable position. His jaw muscle had twitched just like that when she'd told him she was bored that morning at breakfast, and also at a dinner party one night, when a Brisbane alderman had told him he would never pass a development Gerard had submitted to council.

  That alderman had not been voted in at the upcoming election, when a sex scandal had erupted around him.

  Her heart began to beat faster. So she'd been right all along. He was Gerard.

  Everyone was staring at him now, staring and waiting. An electric tension filled the air.

  'There must be something, man,' Alan grated out.

  'There is a scar,' he said, startling Leah, since Gerard did not have a single flaw on his beautiful male body.

  'But, frankly, it's a bit embarrassing to show, given its position. I'll give you a look, Alan, and you can tell Leah about it.'

  CHAPTER THREE

  'THAT'S not good enough!' was Leah's instant reaction, and everyone's eyes swung round to glare at her.

  Their obvious exasperation with her ongoing attitude met with a defiantly lifting chin. 'Scars can be faked. I want to see it for myself. I think I have that right.'

  Alan rolled his eyes, but the object of her scepticism merely shrugged. 'If you insist.'

  'Geez, Leah,' Alan muttered. 'If it was anyone else...' He shook his head at her. 'All right. Take him below and set your stubborn mind at rest. But let that be an end to this bloody nonsense! Meanwhile, I'll get the old girl going. But don't be too long, madam. I want you up on deck once we're properly under way, complete with refreshment trays.'

  His utter faith in Gareth's identity unnerved Leah. Was she making a complete fool of herself here?

  Probably. But how could she blindly trust what this man was telling her? It had been her blind trust which had landed her in trouble in the first place. No! She had to see this scar for herself, and judge if it was real or not.

  Her heart began thudding behind her ribs as she made her way along the deck towards the cabin. She didn't look over her shoulder to check if she was being followed. She could hear him right behind her. She could even smell him.

  He smelt just like Gerard, she realised once they'd stepped into the confinement of the cabin. His body had that same scent which had always clung to Gerard's skin. Her husband used to shower morning and night, after which he'd spray this very expensive cologne over his body. It was called East Meets West, and had an exotic, musky fragrance.

  Leah had grown to love that smell, had learnt to associate it with a naked Gerard sliding into the sheets beside her at night. It had primed her senses for what was to come without his having to say a word, or even touch her body. Every nerve-ending would be instantly on alert, clamouring for release.

  No way could she mistake that scent for another. The odds of Gerard's long-lost twin using the same exclusive and expensive cologne were so remote as to be not worth considering.

  This new situation threw Leah totally, because despite her other doubts she'd been half convinced by Alan's logical arguments. But the cologne was much more conclusive evidence than a twitching jaw muscle. That could have been put down to similar body language. Her own brothers had some identical physical habits and they weren't even identical twins.

  But this...this could not be explained away so easily, neither could her ongoing physical reaction to the man. Why, even now, without looking at him, she felt her skin prickling, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. It wasn't just his scent. It was his whole being. His sexual aura.

  She could feel her own flesh, that finely tuned Gerard-programmed flesh, responding as it always had when he was near. Her pulse-rate picked up its beat. Her skin temperature rose. Her nipples hardened.

  To have him witness this unwilling arousal would be the highest of humiliations! Shame forced her to pull herself together, then to turn and try to face him with apparent composure.

  Leah experienced a deep satisfaction in her surprising ability to appear in total control. Gerard wasn't the only one who could pretend, she realised.

  It was to be thanked, however, that her colourful shorts and T-shirt were of the modern baggy variety. Anything clinging would have been a disaster.

  'Well?' she said coolly. 'Let's see this scar. Or are you going to admit now, Gerard, that there isn't one?'

  He frowned at her for a moment, before lifting his hands abruptly to the waistband of his shorts. When he pulled open the securing stud and shot down the zipper, Leah gulped.

  Just who was calling whose bluff here?

  'Don't say I didn't warn you,' he said.

  Leah's throat thickened when he dropped his shorts to his ankles, lifted his T-shirt, then yanked the narrow band of his white underpants downwards.

  Her gasp reverberated with shock. But not the shock she'd been fearing. He didn't expose himself. Not quite. What he did expose, however, was the largest, nastiest scar she'd ever seen. It zig-zagged its ugly way from his right hip down across his lower abdomen, ending in his groin: a lightning-strike of stark horror against his deeply tanned skin.

  It was obviously not faked, or new. New scars were red, or pink, or even purple. Not white.

  Gareth was also tanned all over. Gerard had never had the time for such frivolities as an all-over tan.

  Touch it,' he ordered curtly. 'I think you'll find it's real enough.'

  Leah shrank from doing any such thing.

  'Go on,' he insisted. 'I want you to be sure.'

  Leah swallowed before reaching out with a tentative trembling hand.
It wasn't revulsion which made her hesitant, but a fear of touching him. Anywhere.

  Suddenly it wasn't the scar which was drawing her eyes but the rest of him, especially that which was being ineffectually contained by his briefs. Clearly he was an impressively equipped man, as impressive as his brother. But of course he would be, wouldn't he? They were identical twins.

  Leah's gaze skittered back to the scar, her fingertip quivering as it made tentative contact with the puckered skin. When he flinched at her touch her hand immediately dropped away, her eyes jerking up to his.

  'H...how did it happen?' she asked, appalled by her breathless state, plus the wild hammering of her heart.

  'A car accident some time back,' came the curt reply. He bent abruptly and dragged his shorts back up to his waist. 'A truck smashed into me at an intersection.'

  Leah struggled with her feelings. Clearly the man standing before her wasn't Gerard, yet he could still stir her sexually. Which said what of her feelings for her husband? Not much except that they must be very superficial, and shallow. Easily transferred from one twin to another.

  She shook her head in confusion. That didn't feel right, didn't feel right at all. She'd loved Gerard. She still loved him. She was sure of it.

  'You still don't believe me?'

  She frowned up at her husband's twin brother, and found excuses for his being able to turn her on. He did carry identical genes to Gerard, after all. When she looked at him, her brain automatically registered her husband's face and body. It didn't mean anything. It was simply an instinctive response which would fade in a few minutes.

  'No, I do believe you. It's just hard, that's all. I had no idea Gerard had a brother, let alone a twin. I'm still a bit shell-shocked. You have no idea how much you look like him.'

  'Oh, yes, I have,' he said ruefully as he snapped the waistband of his shorts shut and pulled his T-shirt back down. 'But looks are only skin-deep, Leah. Don't judge me on them.'