The Groom's Stand-In (Special Edition)

by Gina Wilkins

  Chloe sighed and shifted against him. Suspecting that her discomfort was keeping her from resting well, he wrapped his left arm around her and pulled her more snugly into his shoulder. She murmured something unintelligible and nestled into him, hiding her face in his throat as if to hide from everything that threatened them.

  No one was getting to her without going through him first, he vowed. And then he loosened his hold on her a bit as he remembered that it was his job to protect her. For Bryan.

  Not that he expected Bryan to appreciate his efforts so far. He’d antagonized Chloe’s sister, bored Chloe into closing herself in her room with a stack of paperwork, and then carelessly let them get taken captive. He hadn’t been careful enough, hadn’t been vigilant enough—even though he’d sensed that something was wrong.

  He should have listened to his instincts, kept his guard up. Instead, he’d let himself get distracted by…well, by things he’d had no business noticing.

  A strand of Chloe’s hair tickled his cheek. Without thinking, he reached up with his right hand to brush it away, nearly conking her with the swinging handcuff bracelet. He caught it just in time, then spent several minutes berating himself for almost causing her more pain.

  He’d tried to tell her he was no bodyguard. Not anymore, anyway.

  He’d say their present circumstances provided ample proof of that.

  It was still dark when Donovan roused Chloe. “We should probably move on,” he said.

  “How long have we been resting here?” she asked groggily, lifting her head from his shoulder.

  “I’m guessing about an hour. I haven’t heard any sounds of pursuit, but I know they’re looking for us somewhere. We can’t just sit here and wait for them to find us.”

  She drew a deep breath and pushed herself upright. The very thought of standing made her want to groan, but she clenched her teeth and accepted Donovan’s hand when he rose and extended it to her. The groan almost escaped when her battered feet immediately protested her weight, but she bit it back and took a few halting practice steps. The pain was intense, but she could handle it because she had no other choice. “Which direction?” she asked.

  Donovan ran a hand lightly over her tumbled hair in what seemed like a gesture of approval. “Do you want to hold my arm for support?”

  “I’ll probably have to do that later,” she admitted. “But I’ll try to make it on my own for a while.”

  His nod was just visible in the gloom. “Then let’s go.”

  Maybe she took some small comfort in noticing that Donovan was limping, too. While it was reassuring to believe that Donovan was totally in control of this situation, it was also a little nice to know he wasn’t completely immune to the mortal weaknesses that were affecting her.

  She forged on, following him deeper into the forest, trusting him to make decisions on her behalf. For now.

  She started counting her steps. One, two, three, four…the silent cadence was the only thing that kept her moving forward. She told herself that if she could just take ten more steps…and then ten more…she would survive.

  They made it over the rocks and fallen limbs that blocked their way, through the heavy brush that appeared in clusters to tangle their feet, along the edge of the many bluffs that filled the mountainous region. “Do you know where we are?” she asked Donovan at one point. “Do you know how to get to a road or a phone?”

  “No,” he answered simply. “At this point, I couldn’t even say what state we’re in, though I assume it’s either Missouri or Arkansas.”

  So they were lost. But at least they weren’t handcuffed to an iron bed frame at the mercy of three kidnappers. Ten more steps, she told herself, pressing forward. Ten more steps…and then ten more…

  Again, it was Donovan who brought them to a halt beside a small, running stream they could easily step over. He knelt beside it and scooped a handful of water into his mouth.

  “It isn’t safe to drink water from a stream like that,” Chloe pointed out automatically.

  “I don’t happen to have any purification tablets on me. Do you?”

  Because she knew the question was rhetorical, she didn’t answer.

  “Have a drink,” he urged. “Just a small amount. You don’t want to dehydrate.”

  Images of microbes and pollution flitted through her mind, but she was thirsty. Just the sound of the trickling water made her mouth feel dry. She knelt beside him.

  The water shimmered black in the moonlight. It felt cold when she dipped her hands into it. The night air was cool against her overheated face. She might have felt cold had they not been exerting themselves so much.

  The water tasted just a little metallic, but it felt good as it slid down her throat. An owl hooted above her as she swallowed another handful. She had been only marginally aware of the nightlife that shared the forest with them. The occasional rustling in the leaves, or flutter of wings, or distant cry—she’d heard them all, but hadn’t paid much attention. Nor had she worried about any wild animals they might encounter.

  The predators that frightened her most tonight walked on two legs, not four.

  Donovan helped her back to her feet. “You need to rest again,” he said, his hands on her shoulders.

  “Is it safe?”

  “I think so. We’ve put a lot of distance behind us, and I’ve been changing direction frequently. It won’t be easy for them to track us.”

  She hadn’t even noticed that he’d changed directions. “Can we hide somewhere to rest?”

  She didn’t like the thought of dozing out in the open again where anyone could stumble onto them.

  “Exactly what I had in mind.”

  He helped her over the stream, then led her a short distance farther to a bluff that rose straight above them. Surely he wasn’t expecting her to climb now.

  Instead, he pushed a low-hanging branch out of the way to reveal a darker area on the shadowed face of the bluff. “A cave,” he said. “I spotted it when I bent down to drink.”

  Apparently his night vision was better than hers—which shouldn’t surprise her. She eyed the dark hole warily. “What if there’s a bear or a mountain lion or a family of snakes in there?”

  “I’ll check.” He bent to pick up a good-sized branch at his feet, then moved forward. “Wait here.”

  Chewing her lower lip, she watched as he bent to poke cautiously around in the hole. She held her breath when he moved farther into the opening. She didn’t like having him out of her sight even for that short time, and she was relieved when he reappeared in front of her.

  “It looks clean,” he said. “And it’s well hidden. We’ll be safe in there for a while.”

  When she hesitated, he flashed her a smile, his teeth gleaming for a moment in the darkness. “Have I led you wrong so far?”

  It was the first time she actually remembered seeing him smile—and he’d picked a hell of a time for it, she thought with a shake of her head. And yet it disarmed her enough that she moved with him toward the cave.

  Cave was a generous description, she discovered when she ducked into the opening with him. Hole was more fitting. Indentation, maybe. There was just enough room for the two of them to sit side by side with their legs stretched in front of them. The back of the cave was a bit damp and slimy. For all she knew it could be covered with creepy-crawlies.

  She didn’t care. She leaned gratefully back, her body going limp against the rock. Shoulder to shoulder, she and Donovan sat in silence while they let their breathing and heartbeats slow from the strenuous hike.

  She couldn’t see him at all now. No light penetrated the opening. She was glad their shoulders were touching—just for the reassurance of contact, she told herself, closing her eyes. No other reason, of course.

  When she opened her eyes again, the gray light of a cloudy dawn was filtering into the cave and she was lying curled on her side with her head on Donovan’s thigh.

  With a slight gasp, she lifted her head.

  “It
’s okay.” Donovan sounded completely alert, making her doubt that he’d slept at all. “We’re safe.”

  Had he sat there guarding her all this time? She cleared her throat as she righted herself, pushing a hand through her tangled hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how I ended up in that position—”

  “I put you there.” He shifted his weight, indicating that he’d gotten a bit cramped serving as her pillow. “You fell asleep. You looked uncomfortable, so I shifted you a little.”

  She tried to put the feel of his solid thigh out of her mind. “Did you get any rest?”

  He shrugged. “Just sitting still felt good.”

  Maybe their arduous trek had been more difficult for him than he had allowed her to see.

  Now that she had a little light, Chloe decided to risk a look at her feet. Sitting cross-legged, she turned her soles toward her. The sight made her grimace.

  The bottoms of her once-white socks were now black with dirt and dried blood, with gaping holes revealing the bruised and shredded skin beneath. She didn’t even want to think about removing the socks yet. When that time came, they would have to be peeled away—and that was going to hurt.

  Still leaning back against the cave wall, Donovan watched her. “You haven’t walked barefoot much, have you?”

  “Not much,” she admitted. “When I was young, I stepped on a nail once. It tore into my skin and I had to have a tetanus shot. I was so traumatized by that experience that I refused to go barefoot for years. I never got into the habit. Even at home I always wear slippers.”

  “That explains your delicate feet. The walk last night must have been hell for you.”

  “It wasn’t easy. What about you? Are you in the habit of going barefoot outdoors?”

  Again, his shoulders moved in a shrug. “I almost never wore shoes when I was a kid. Typical Arkansas redneck kid—wild and barefoot.”

  She found it hard to reconcile the composed and sophisticated man who had arrived at her doorstep—the man who had just returned from Venice, who moved among politicians and captains of industry, Bryan Falcon’s best friend and trusted confidant—with his description of a wild, barefoot “redneck kid.”

  “So, did you spend much time in the woods?” she asked lightly.

  “A fair bit. Why?”

  She placed a hand on her hollow-feeling stomach. “I was sort of hoping you’d know how to scavenge breakfast.”

  “I usually carried a bag of supplies with me when I spent a day in the woods.”

  She sighed wryly. “Oh, well. I suppose it won’t hurt me to diet for a couple of days.”

  He gave her a leisurely once-over. “You hardly need to diet.”

  She looked quickly toward the cave opening to hide an unexpected and unwelcome blush. “I’m very thirsty again. Maybe I’ll risk another drink of that stream water before we move on.”

  Donovan’s reply was lost in a loud crash of thunder. Chloe started, proving that she was still very much on edge no matter how calm they were both pretending to be. “It sounds like it’s going to rain,” she said, trying to cover her jumpiness with nonchalance.

  The sound of a hard rain filled the cave almost before she’d completed the sentence. A gust of wind pushed a fine mist inside, chilling the cool air even more.

  “Yeah, I think it might rain,” Donovan murmured.

  “Great.”

  “That’s not such a bad thing. Any tracks we might have made last night will be eradicated by a downpour this heavy.”

  She knew he was trying to put a positive spin on their circumstances for her sake. She appreciated the effort. “What’s our agenda now?”

  “We can wait out the rain here for a while. There’s no need to go out in it.”

  “And when the rain stops?”

  Looping his arms around his upraised knees, he looked toward the opening. “We move on.”

  She kept her own legs outstretched, keeping her poor feet as still as possible. The thought of hiking several more miles was hardly pleasant. The cave was dry and well-hidden—both of which made her reluctant to leave—but they couldn’t wait here for rescue. For one thing, no one was looking for them—except their kidnappers.

  “Do you think we’ll be able to find our way out of the forest before…well, before anyone finds us?”

  “We’re going to be very careful about who finds us. Our biggest problem right now is figuring out which direction to go when we leave the cave. We’re probably in the middle of several thousand uninhabited acres. If we go deeper—farther from civilization—it could be days before we stumble across anyone. I hate to risk going that long without food.”

  “But if we go back the way we came, we could run into the kidnappers.”

  “Exactly. I’m sure they’re still looking for us—and they might well have brought back-up.”

  “So?”

  “We do our best,” he replied. “I’ll make some educated guesses—and we’ll hope for some luck.”

  “Are you usually lucky?”

  It was nothing more than a quip, intended to keep the conversation light. But instead of smiling, Donovan frowned and let the question pass unanswered.

  After an awkward moment, Chloe tried again to keep him talking. The weather was always a nice, neutral subject, she figured. “It sounds as though the rain has settled in for a while.”

  He nodded. “It’s coming down hard.”

  She pulled the denim shirt more snugly around her. “It’s getting colder.”

  “Not much. It’s just that the air blowing in is damp, which makes it feel cooler.”

  “At least the cave is a bit elevated, so the water isn’t running in.”

  She didn’t even get a monosyllabic reply that time—just a grunt. They might as well have been back in the car again—only this time she didn’t even have passing scenery to entertain her.

  It could turn out to be a very long morning, she thought, leaning back against the cave wall. But at least they were dry, and safe for the moment. She would concentrate on those positive points for now.

  She had never been very good at estimating passing time. She’d been sitting close to the cave opening, watching the rain fall in the woods outside, for what seemed like a very long time when she broke the silence to ask, “I wonder what time it is.”

  Donovan roused from his deep introspection to reply, “Just guessing, I’d say mid-morning. Maybe ten, ten-thirty.”

  “I hope Grace hasn’t heard we’re missing yet,” she said, vocalizing a concern that had been nagging at her all morning. “She’ll be frantic.”

  “I suppose that depends on whether Bryan chose to contact her—and my prediction is that he won’t until he has more information.”

  “So you think Bryan has been contacted by the kidnappers?”

  “Probably. I expect that’s what the other two were doing while they were gone.”

  “You’ve known Bryan a lot longer than I have. What do you think he’s doing now? Has he contacted the police? Called my sister?”

  Donovan gave it a moment’s thought before he answered. “He hasn’t called the police. And he won’t take any chance of a media leak, so he probably hasn’t told your sister, either.”

  “So what is he doing?”

  “He’s looking for us. He has contacts. They’ll be on our trail quicker than any official agency would be.”

  “What was it you learned when that man offered us water yesterday? When he left the room, you said you knew then what was going on.”

  Donovan’s response caught her by surprise. “I recognized him.”

  Wide-eyed, she scooted around to face him more fully. “You know him? Who is he?”

  “I didn’t say I know him. I said I recognized him. I don’t think he realized it.”

  “So you’ve seen him before, but you were never introduced?”

  “Right. I saw him leaving an office that I was about to enter. It was a couple of weeks ago in New York. The guy probably never saw me—and if he
did, he probably doesn’t suspect that I recognized him.”

  “How did you recognize him?”

  One of his typical shrugs was followed by, “I have a good memory for faces.”

  “You’re sure it was the same man?”

  “Yes.”

  “So he was in New York. Do you know who he works for—or do you think he and his two cronies cooked this scheme up on their own?”

  Donovan shook his head. “I’d put my money on the CEO of the company Bryan’s been trying to take over during the past couple of weeks. It’s a hostile takeover, but everything was in place, all the details ironed out. That’s why Bryan and I were surprised by the last-minute glitches that cropped up to detain him in New York. They’re annoying and time-consuming, but they wouldn’t have stopped the takeover.”

  “You think Bryan was deliberately detained so we could be taken?”

  “Seems too coincidental not to consider that possibility.”

  “So you think the condition of our release is for Bryan to stop his takeover attempt?”

  “No, nothing that obvious. I’d imagine it’s a straightforward demand for ransom. Childers has been complaining that he didn’t get enough for his company shares, even though he got all he deserved, probably a bit more than he deserved. Looks like he decided to make a little extra on the side.”

  “Childers—that’s the CEO you mentioned?”

  Donovan nodded.

  “And he’s the type who would do something like this?”

  “The guy’s a crook. He basically got his company by swindling someone else out of it. He’d almost drained it dry by the time Bryan moved in to take it over. Childers’s name has been connected with several crimes—mail fraud, embezzlement, that sort of thing—but there’s never been enough evidence to bring him up on charges. Yeah, he’s the type who would do this.”

  “Do you—?”

  He looked at her when he faltered. “Do I what?”

  “Do you think they ever intended to let us go?”