Substitute Bride

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by Angela Devine




  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  About the Author

  Books by Angela Devine

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Copyright

  “You can’t possibly

  marry him!”

  “Why can’t I?”

  “Because you want to go to bed with me.”

  Laura gasped. “That’s not true.”

  “Isn’t it? Tell me, Beatrice, what’s it like when Sam kisses you?”

  Beatrice. Laura dropped her gaze and turned crimson.

  “When he kisses you, does it make your heart pound as if you’re running a marathon? Do you love him, Bea?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I do.”

  “Liar,” James breathed, and hauled her into his arms. “This is what a kiss should be like.”

  ANGELA DEVINE grew up in Tasmania surrounded by forests, mountains and wild seas, so she dislikes big cities. Before taking up writing, she worked as a teacher, librarian and university lecturer. As a young mother and Ph.D. student, she read romance fiction for fun, and later decided it would be even more fun to write it. She is married with four children, loves chocolate and Twinings teas and hates ironing. Her current hobbies are gardening, bushwalking, traveling and classical music.

  Books by Angela Devine

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  Substitute Bride

  Angela Devine

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘MIRROR, mirror, on the wall, should I many Raymond Hall?’

  Laura Madison gazed steadily at her own perplexed reflection and heaved a faint sigh. At twenty-nine she had begun to think of herself as a confirmed career woman, and Ray’s proposal the previous evening had taken her completely by surprise. Although they had been friends for more than a year, she had never imagined that he thought of her as a possible wife.

  A competent accountant, yes. A theatre companion, a tennis partner, a fellow gourmet, certainly. But someone who would share his entire life? It was unthinkable! Yet she had promised to think about it…and to give him his answer today. Her spirits sank at the prospect. As if she didn’t have enough to worry about, with her sister’s crazy request blurted out over the telephone only an hour ago!

  Suddenly the loud toot of a car horn down below broke into her reverie. She hurried into the sitting room and hauled up the window.

  ‘Bea!’ she whispered in exasperation. ‘It’s only five thirty a.m. You’ll wake the people in the other flats! And that’s a no parking zone.’

  Her younger sister grinned up at her, thrusting her long hair back off her face in a gesture that made her one of the most photographed models in Australia. Evidently Bea’s mercurial spirits had taken an upward turn after her earlier gloom.

  ‘Who cares? Anyway, you’d better hurry up or you’ll be late for the airport.’

  Plodding back into the hall and giving herself a final, despairing grimace in the mirror, Laura picked up her overnight bag and went downstairs.

  ‘Now, are you clear on what you’ve got to do?’ asked Bea, reversing out of the driveway with a squeal of tyres that made her sibling shudder.

  ‘Yes!’ retorted Laura savagely. ‘I fly down to Tasmania on your plane ticket, pretending I’m you. Sam will arrive on a later plane and meet me at the real estate agent’s office. Then we go and view the house together. But I still don’t see the need for all this.’

  ‘I already explained it, La-La,’ said Bea, weaving in and out of the Sydney traffic, which was already heavy even at this hour. ‘A wonderful house has just come on the market at a bargain price and Sam’s uncle James wants to give it to us as a wedding present. But he only has a twenty-four-hour option to purchase, so we must look over it today. Except I can’t fly to Tasmania myself, because I’ve got to go to court here in Sydney on a dangerous driving charge. It’s so unfair! I wasn’t driving dangerously. My foot just slipped on the accelerator and—’

  ‘Never mind that now!’ cut in Laura. ‘Why don’t you simply tell Uncle James that you can’t come with Sam?’

  ‘Because he already disapproves of me. I’ve never met him, but from what I’ve heard he really hates the thought of his precious nephew marrying an airhead fashion model. He’s already spoken to Sam several times on the phone, trying to persuade him to call off the marriage because he thinks I’m such a fruit-loop. Too young, too irresponsible and “everyone knows that models sleep around”.’

  ‘But that’s utterly unfair!’ cried Laura hotly. ‘Why should he condemn you when he’s never even met you?’

  Bea shrugged. Although she was trying to look tough, Laura saw the unmistakable flash of hurt in her dark eyes. It brought back memories of Bea at the age of five, clutching her teddy and glaring defiantly at the fosterworker who had taken them into care after their mother’s death.

  ‘Search me,’ said Bea. ‘It seems a bit rich considering that good old Uncle James has a reputation for seducing anything that moves, while I’ve only ever slept with Sam. But everyone in the Fraser family seems to dance to James’s tune. Even Sam.’

  ‘Why? What’s so special about this man?’ demanded Laura indignantly.

  ‘Well, according to Sam, he’s tremendously dynamic and hell-bent on having control of everything—not to mention filthy rich and dangerous to oppose. To be honest, I think Sam’s very brave to insist on marrying me when James is against it. And I don’t want James spoiling the wedding by becoming even more poisonous, which he will if he finds out about this dangerous driving charge. That’s why you’ve got to cover for me!’

  Laura shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  ‘But supposing James turns up while we’re viewing the house? Won’t he get a bit of a shock if Sam introduces me as his fiancée and then marries a completely different woman the weekend after this?’

  Bea gave a throaty chuckle.

  ‘Don’t be such a worry-wart, Laura. James won’t set eyes on you today. He’s going to look at a prize bull for his beef herd and he’ll be miles away. All he needs to believe is that I’ve shown up, as per instructions. And you’re wearing my clothes and make-up, so everyone else will think you’re me. What can possibly go wrong?’

  Laura found out the answer to that shortly after lunchtime. It was a crisp, sunny late winter’s day, with snow blanketing the dark blue mountain that loomed behind the city of Hobart and dazzling sunlight reflecting off the paler blue waters of the Derwent estuary. After an uneventful flight, a few hours’ shopping and a pleasant lunch at the Sheraton, she was beginning to think her earlier fears had all been groundless. Until she went to the real estate agent’s office to meet Sam.

  ‘Hello—Miss Walters? My name is…Bea Madison. I’m supposed to meet my fiancé, Sam Fraser, here, and we’re to view a house together.’

  ‘Yes, of course, Miss Madison. But I’m afraid your fiancé hasn’t arrived yet and I have another appointment at two o’clock. Would you mind if I take you directly to the house, and we’ll leave a message for him to come and join us as soon as he gets here?’

  ‘No, not at all,’ said Laura, although she couldn’t help feeling slightly taken aback. Where on earth could Sa
m be?

  The house was enchanting, and she felt a brief pang of envy at the thought of Bea living there. Dear Bea, she was so sweet, but she would never appreciate the perfection of the glowing pink camellias in the garden, or the dark panelled entrance hall, or the gracious old sitting room with its antique furniture and its sweeping green lawns that led right down to the beachfront. Bea wasn’t interested in tranquillity; she would far rather have a penthouse in the middle of Sydney’s hectic King’s Cross any day of the week!

  Laura wandered round the house, touching the polished woodwork and thinking how much she would like to live there herself. Only her feelings of awkwardness about the situation and the occasional furtive glances that the real estate agent kept darting at her watch made her feel at all uncomfortable.

  ‘Miss Walters, if you’ve got another appointment, could you leave me here to wait for Sam?’ she asked at last. ‘I’d be only too happy to do that. I can always…er…measure up for curtains or something while I’m waiting.’

  The estate agent’s face cleared.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure…’

  ‘I’m sure. Thank you for showing me around.’

  With a feeling of relief, Laura retreated into the dining room and heard the other woman’s steps receding down the front path. She was just beginning to relax when the sound of a stopping car and an exchange of voices brought her senses back to full alert. One of the voices was the real estate agent’s, high and twittery, but the other was deep, resonant and masculine. Laura hurried into the entrance hall with a welcoming smile on her lips.

  ‘Sam, I’m so glad—’

  She stopped in her tracks with a chill feeling of misgiving. It wasn’t Bea’s fiancé who stood in the doorway surveying her from under frowning dark eyebrows. In spite of his twenty-four years, Sam always seemed like a big kid to Laura, but there was no questioning that this newcomer was a fully grown man.

  He was tall and powerfully built, in his mid to late thirties, with glossy dark hair and a face as arrogant and haughty as an eagle’s, with the same disconcerting tawnyeyed stare. The resemblance to a bird of prey was intensified by the strong line of his nose and the pitiless, predatory curve of his mouth. Although he was dressed in conservative well-cut clothes—a camel-coloured cashmere coat worn over brown woollen trousers, a beige shirt, heather mix tie and tweed jacket—Laura couldn’t control the rush of dread that overtook her at the sight of him.

  A flurry of adjectives crowded into her mind to describe him, all of them inadequate. Shrewd, dangerous, demanding, unforgiving. The kind of man who made every woman in a room come on heat the moment he appeared. When he advanced on her with his hand outstretched, she flinched visibly.

  ‘You must be Beatrice,’ he said, seizing her cold fingers in a warm, crushing grip. ‘I’m Sam’s uncle, James Fraser.’

  Her spirits plummeted, and the knowledge of her false position filled her with a hot rush of shame. In that moment her confidence ebbed away, so that she no longer felt like a grown woman and a capable accountant. Instead she was an eleven-year-old orphan with a knot of dread in her stomach and a fierce determination to protect her little sister. But how could she protect Bea now? The game was up and the only thing she could do was confess the truth.

  As she looked into James Fraser’s opaque golden eyes she knew with a sickening feeling that he would never forgive either of them. She should never have let Bea talk her into this ridiculous imposture!

  ‘There’s something I have to explain,’ she began haltingly. ‘An apology—’

  ‘I know what you’re going to say,’ he cut in. ‘You’re going to tell me that Sam’s been caught up in this wretched airline strike so he can’t join us here. Don’t worry, there’s no apology needed. I know all about it.’

  That was more than Laura did. She stood staring at him in horror.

  ‘Airline strike?’ she echoed stupidly.

  ‘Oh, hadn’t you heard? The passenger planes all around Australia have been grounded since eight o’clock this morning. You were lucky you left Sydney when you did. Once I heard the news on the radio I realised that you’d be stranded down here without Sam to look after you. Under the circumstances I decided I’d better drive down and rescue you. If you’ve finished looking over the house, I’ll drive you back to my home on the east coast and Sam can join us there as soon as he can find transport.’

  Laura blinked as the full horror of her situation began to dawn on her.

  ‘That’s very kind of you,’ she said faintly.

  ‘Not at all. And there’s no need to look as if I’m going to bite you. My intentions are friendly, I assure you.’

  As he spoke he gave her a fleeting smile which made her feel more alarmed than ever. There was something feral in it, mingled with an unexpected charm, so that Laura’s heart knocked against her ribs and she was left feeling oddly breathless. Oh, Lord, that’s all I need! she thought in dismay. A case of teenage heartburn for Wicked Uncle James.

  What upset her most was the way that he was meeting her evasive glance with an amused, mocking stare, as if he could read her thoughts. Worse still, he seemed to realise that she found him physically attractive and his reaction was alarmingly blatant. His eyes narrowed as they rested on her and he ran the tip of his tongue along his slightly uneven white teeth, as if he were wondering how she would taste. There was something indecently sensual in that action.

  As far as James Fraser knew, she was his nephew’s intended bride. So how dared he look at her as if she were something succulent to eat? Or was she imagining it? After all, was it really likely that a man as devastatingly charismatic as James Fraser would be looking at her with a gleam of naked lust in his eyes? Of course not! Now, if she really were Bea, it would be understandable. All the same, his silent, lazy scrutiny made her go hot and cold with consternation.

  Fortunately she was saved from replying by the sound of the real estate agent’s footsteps returning down the path. The older woman smiled at her and handed her a mobile phone.

  ‘It’s your sister, Laura, Miss Madison. She wants to speak to you. Why don’t you take it into the sunroom if you want some privacy?’

  Feeling slightly schizophrenic at the announcement that Laura wanted to speak to her, Laura staggered obediently into the sunroom, closed the door and slumped against it.

  ‘Laura? This is Bea. I’m in a phone box at the court house. Listen, something awkward has happened. There’s a plane strike on and Sam can’t get down to Hobart to join you.’

  ‘That’s not the only awkward thing that’s happened,’ hissed Laura. ‘Sam’s Uncle James has just turned up here at the house.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ shrieked Bea. ‘Does he know you’re not me?’

  ‘Shh! Keep your voice down. No, he doesn’t know yet, but I’ll have to tell him.’

  ‘You can’t, Laura! He’ll never forgive me. He’ll refuse to come to the wedding and Sam will be furious with me. Please don’t tell him.’

  ‘What else can I do?’

  ‘Well, you could bluff it out a bit longer. Maybe we could switch places on the wedding day and he wouldn’t notice.’

  Laura gave a ferocious snarl of laughter.

  ‘Be serious! You’re four inches taller, twenty pounds lighter and six years younger than I am, and you have an empty space between your ears whereas I have a brain. Or I used to think I had!’

  ‘I don’t know why you’re telling me to keep my voice down,’ said Bea plaintively. ‘Laura, just keep it going a bit longer. Please, please? Only until the air strike is over. Then I swear I’ll come down and confess it all to him myself. After all, I’m the one to blame, aren’t I? And if you tell him now he’ll shout at you, instead of me. You know how you hate people shouting.’

  Laura opened her mouth to argue, then gritted her teeth. Why not do exactly what Bea suggested? Let her get herself out of her hare-brained schemes for once, instead of expecting Laura to rush around setting things right for her! It would serve her right.
<
br />   But that’s not fair to James, protested a small voice inside her. Defiantly, Laura pushed down the niggling doubt. Let James take care of himself! He looked tough enough to cope if the truth came out. Besides, after the arrogant, unjust prejudice he had shown towards Bea, he deserved whatever he got! And if he had been mentally undressing Laura, he deserved to be taken down a peg or two.

  Her next words surprised her just as much as they did her sister. ‘All right. But you’re going to owe me for this, Bea.’

  She had little time to regret her rash decision, for as soon as she emerged with the telephone James instructed the real estate agent to lock up the house and hustled Laura into his gleaming silver Mercedes, which was parked outside. As the car purred north he cast her a keen sideways glance.

  ‘How did you like the house?’ he asked.

  ‘It’s lovely!’

  ‘You think you’ll be happy to live there, then?’

  She flushed crimson at the unwelcome reminder that she wouldn’t be the one living there in any case. This was going to be a dangerous conversation. She would have to remember that she was supposed to be Bea, with all of Bea’s very different attitudes, although perhaps without quite so much of her sister’s flamboyance.

  ‘Yes, I’m sure I will,’ she said in a subdued voice.

  ‘You’re not going to miss the fast-track life in Sydney too much?’

  Laura hung her head and paused before answering. Privately she had worried about the same thing herself. Bea was such a pleasure-loving creature, always going out to parties and discos. It had come as a complete shock when she had fallen for the silent, rugged Sam Fraser, who was more at home on the back of a horse than on a dance-floor. But Laura had no doubts about the depths of her sister’s attachment.

 

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