As he drew back, he found her eyes warm and dazed with desire. He understood the feeling well. Being this near her turned him inside out. So much so, he ached to get her alone, which was contrary to the whole fake-couple idea. But a quick trip... Hmm...that was simple to pull off with the corporate jet at his disposal. He wouldn’t even have to be disconnected from work during a twenty-four-hour date.
“May I have my coffee?” she said, her voice husky.
“Of course.” He passed it over, her fingers brushing his, his plan coming into crisp focus. “If you find a couple of books to read, it would help you pass the time on the plane.”
“On the plane?” She paled.
“To get coffee—the best. You choose. Guatemala? Tanzania? Kenya? Hawaii? Say the word and you can wake up in the morning to java bliss.”
He gestured toward the world map on the wall, a vintage print from the early twentieth century. The chart matched the rest of the travel motif of the bookstore. Old cameras, sextants and suitcases populated the store. A cozy atmosphere with this incredibly sexy woman.
“Taking me to another country for coffee is undoubtedly a romantic gesture, but I’m good with this.” Her hands trembled, and she set the coffee down again before twisting her fingers together on her lap.
But he didn’t miss the signs of her nerves. For a moment he thought it had to do with him, but then he thought back and realized she had first looked upset when he’d mentioned the plane.
Damn.
He should have remembered the crash she’d experienced. She seemed so fearless, though. He’d lost sight of what she’d been through, a trauma that would leave anyone with a boatload of apprehension.
“The offer stands,” he said gently. “But we can adjust the plans. I’m open to whatever you want.”
“I’ll be fine with this.” She picked up her cup again and took a long swallow.
“You’re a cheap date.”
“You haven’t seen how many books I plan to buy.” Smiling, she stood and walked back to the racks, her fingers grazing the book spines. “What do you like to read?”
His mind filled with the children’s books he’d read to his stepdaughter. They’d had a set routine. Thirty minutes an evening of reading. Even when he was away on business, he made arrangements to Skype their story time. She often asked for more, and right now he would give anything to give her those extra minutes she’d requested.
“Business reading. Topics like financial research, corporate leadership—things like that,” he answered gruffly, pushing aside thoughts of his stepdaughter asking for one more chapter. “What about you, Brea?”
Her eyes sparkled. Turned wistful as she patted the stack in her lap. “Anything. Everything.”
He tapped the novels in her hands. “Do you not read digitally?”
“Now I do. At my other home, I read faster than they could restock books.” She looked down at the growing stack of books in her arms, her gaze pensive. “This is a treat.”
His conscience pinched. Part of this ruse meant placing her in her family’s path more frequently than before. What if she wasn’t guilty of anything more than curiosity? “Are you sure you’re okay going to the casino party?”
“I went out to dinner with them. I think I can handle a big party, where there are plenty of distractions to keep me from speaking to people I wish to avoid.”
He wondered if she meant anyone in particular. He hadn’t noticed nuances like that last night at dinner, but he would try to be more cognizant of subtleties like that going forward. Especially if he was going to keep an eye on what she was up to. He had to stay alert and not be distracted by the attraction. If they pursued it, he could only indulge if he kept his focus where it belonged. On his new job at Alaska Oil Barons, Inc.
“But there will also be a lot of curious eyes on you.”
And if she did have an alternative agenda, a party like that might reveal any and all accomplices. He didn’t want to think like that. But he needed to remain vigilant. Aware.
“So, you planned the dinner yesterday to be just the family out of concern for my feelings?”
“Of course not.” He nudged her knee with his. “That kind of sensitivity would do serious damage to my reputation as a boardroom shark.”
“Well, we can’t have that now, can we? It wouldn’t be good for the company.”
“Spoken like a true Steele.” Something he would do well to remember.
They were a ruthless lot when it came to business. Like him. Which meant he was better off not feeling sorry for her. He needed to keep his sights firmly set on keeping the corporation safe.
And if he and Brea shared a bed along the way?
All the better.
* * *
Brea walked into her sister’s engagement party with her head held high, her grip on Ward’s arm tight. It was a double-edged decision to touch him this way. Yes, she needed bracing to face this event. But the handsome man beside her filled out his tuxedo so perfectly that she found herself thinking about the kisses they’d shared, and ended up feeling unsteady on her feet.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his blue eyes full of deep concern.
Pull it together, she told herself. The last thing she wanted was for him to know how deeply he affected her.
“I’m fine. I will be an attentive, adoring date.” She rubbed a thumb and index finger together, attempting to quell her nerves.
He’d opted for them to arrive after the sit-down dinner and to make their appearance during dessert and dancing so she wouldn’t have to make chitchat. Another thoughtful move from a man who worked so very hard to appear heartless. She’d told him that seeing her family at a crowded event would be easier. And she’d genuinely believed that to be the case when she’d said it.
She was wrong.
Her world had been so sparsely populated in the remote Canadian farm town, that off-the-grid community. She wasn’t used to so many people crammed into one room. Even a massive ballroom like this. So it was more than just her family that was overwhelming. She was still acclimating to being surrounded by such a sheer number of people.
Sometimes, when she was in Canada, she’d thought she’d dreamed the opulence of her father’s Alaskan world. Right now, she saw she hadn’t dreamed up a single detail. The Steele family wealth was real. Not a penny had been spared for Delaney’s casino-themed engagement party.
As she strolled farther into the party, her eyes were drawn to the intricate details of the Monte Carlo feel. The indicators of unrivaled wealth made this event seem like a scene from a movie. She had vague memories of such lush parties when she’d still lived in Alaska as a child. But her off-the-grid teenage time was a world away from anything of this scale.
Oversize cards with hearts were suspended from the ceiling. Centerpieces of long-stemmed red roses in shiny black vases sat on crisp white tablecloths, which held a collection of discarded drinkware the waitstaff cleared regularly.
Chatter mingled with the thrum of the grand piano, making Brea’s heart beat faster. She glanced over her shoulder. Her pearl drop earrings teased along her neck as she eyed the photography station in the corner, with a table full of costume pieces, as well as larger-than-life king and queen of hearts cards with the faces cut out.
Men in tuxedos who were standing with their glittering dates waited in line to have their photos taken. Laughter billowed from the costume-fitting area, where women in designer gowns donned feathered masks and boas or tiaras and faux-fur shawls.
Ward’s warm hand palmed her back as they moved deeper into the soiree, past the active roulette table, where a skinny blonde woman excitedly clapped at her winnings. Past the blackjack tables, where important figures of the Alaskan community sat with neutral faces as the pot in the center grew. The blackjack tables captivated some of the Mikkelsons. A woman’s voice crooned over the sound system
, an A-list celebrity.
Brea stumbled as she caught a glimpse of her twin. Naomi. Her closest sibling hadn’t been at the family dinner the other night, which had made things easier, and harder, too.
Suddenly Brea’s legs and limbs felt heavy as she studied her sister, who was wearing a rhinestone gown, the skirt black tulle, in a Cinderella poof. But Naomi had always had a flare for the dramatic. Broderick’s wife, Glenna, somehow managed to carry off a gold lace dress with a short train of tan feathers.
Brea smoothed her hands down her simple black sheath dress, cinched at the waist with a wide pearl-studded belt. True, she’d felt like an outsider before tonight. But even her level of dress seemed to mark her as different. As someone who didn’t belong to this world.
Despite being born into it.
Her stomach dropped thirteen stories. Heat pulsated on her cheeks, and for a moment the world of the party felt distant. Muffled. Underwater.
Until Ward cut through, his hand gently touching her back again.
“Would you like to get something to eat?” He gestured toward the tables of sweets.
On the far wall, Brea spotted cube truffles that were decorated like dice, and a woman in a sequined silver ball gown scooped them onto her crystal plate.
But the real eye-catching feature of the dessert area was a yet-to-be-cut tiered cake that was decorated to resemble a roulette wheel.
“No, thank you. I ate plenty before you picked me up,” she lied. Truth be told, the thought of food sent waves of nausea through her. No. Brea’s nerves were too electric to keep food down at this point.
“Dance?”
She wanted to, anything to escape speaking with these people. She wasn’t ready for this after all. “But aren’t you here to work?”
“My presence is enough.” He took her hand and pulled her to the dance floor, taking her into his arms.
A welcome haven right now.
“I don’t recognize some of the guests.” She felt less conspicuous watching other people from the safety of his embrace.
He nodded toward the front two tables near the mahogany-planked dance floor. “That’s the future groom’s family. But no one expects you to know everyone.”
His fingers were light on her spine. Strangely reassuring and tantalizing at the same time. And a touch that made her more aware than she wanted to admit. “I should though, after my time working for the company, using a fake name.”
“You’re admitting what you did?” His brows shot up as he and Brea moved to the music. So close. So distracting to be caught up in his strong arms and sexy gaze.
Yet she couldn’t deny that being close to him somehow settled her nerves.
She just needed to keep her head on straight and quit thinking with her hormones. She weighed her words carefully. “It’s no secret.”
“Your lawyer wouldn’t be pleased you’re talking about it.”
“Good point. I guess I was feeling too comfortable around you,” she said tightly. “I won’t make that mistake again.”
A slow smile creased dimples into his cheeks, his hand moving in slow circles along her back. “You’re gutsy. Like your twin.”
Lord knows she and Naomi had been close as kids, but competitive. She wasn’t so sure she wanted that competition now. Even though her sister was married, with twins of her own, and Brea had no business feeling proprietary about Ward. “Is that a compliment?”
“It is. She’s respected in the business world.”
Business? That was their arrangement. Still... “What about personally?”
“She’s tough. So are you,” he said simply, his words carrying a weight of emotion. “You’ve both been through a lot.”
Her eyes stung, and she was grateful for the dim lighting that hid the way she was battling back tears. “I barely recognize my own relatives.”
She meant that literally and figuratively. She’d lost so much time with her siblings. They’d grown from gangly kids into beautiful and handsome adults. But what threw her the most was the interaction with the Mikkelsons, their once-sworn rivals, in business and in personal affairs.
“Your family has grown now that two families have managed to mesh their immense empires.” He pulled her closer as the saxophone let out a wailing, soulful note. Her nostrils filled with the spiciness of his aftershave. Her eyes slid closed for a second before her common sense kicked in and walls went up.
“Managed how? You’re the boss. Seems to me that means they failed to mesh very well since an outsider is now at the helm.” Nothing about coming home was as she had expected.
“I see it differently.” His voice was gravelly as they swayed together, the warmth of him tempting.
A man in a tuxedo, with a gold bowtie, maneuvered past them. A woman in a shimmery turquoise gown with glitzy jewels followed close behind, dancing as she went by, empty champagne glass glinting in the soft light.
“How so?”
The pianist paused, reaching the end of a piece. A dramatic violin joined along with the singer’s sultry voice.
“The siblings on both sides have found where they fit best rather than where they were expected to step in. They’re now in the places I would have hired them to fill instead of nepotism appointments.”
“Are you actually saying that having my brother—Broderick—run Alaska Oil Barons, Inc., would have been a bad choice?”
Ward shrugged his impossibly broad shoulders. “He could have run Steele Enterprises. But the combined Steele and Mikkelson corporations? I’m the stronger CEO to take the helm.”
She laughed softly. “It’s a shame you don’t have any self-confidence.”
“This isn’t about confidence or arrogance. It’s about our resumes and strengths.”
Somehow his practicality managed to keep arrogance out of the equation. “I’m glad you’re happy with your new job. But what happens when a bigger fish comes along for you?”
“Right now, there isn’t a larger company with this much autonomy. And with me at the helm, Alaska Oil Barons, Inc., will grow.”
She pressed her head against his chest, his heartbeat echoing softly, steadily against her ear. “I hope that confidence proves to be true.”
“For your family’s sake.”
“Can we talk about something other than business?”
“You aren’t angling for your fake job back?”
His accusation stung. “I only pretended to be Milla to get the lay of the land before returning home as myself. That’s all.”
“Hmm... Maybe you should work for the business.”
His touch and gaze had her wits addled. “Whatever for?”
“Your skills at bluffing could be of use to the company in negotiations.”
She couldn’t decide whether to be complimented or insulted by his words. Then a movement just over Ward’s shoulders distracted her.
Naomi crossed the dance floor with Royce, her husband. Naomi’s gaze moved past Brea, then back again and she stopped in the middle of dancing couples for a moment.
For a split second, Brea thought they could just pick up where they’d left off, that their twin-sister bond would make everything okay. Then Naomi’s face twisted into something that looked an awful lot like suspicion. Her twin’s furrowed brow sparked alarm in Brea. The last thing she needed was some residual twin bond giving away her charade.
Brea looped her arms around Ward’s neck, and she arched up on her toes to do away with suspicions the best way possible.
She kissed him in full view of all the guests.
Four
Fire scorched through Ward at Brea’s kiss.
His senses went on overload at the soft give of her mouth against his, her fingers on his neck, toying with his hairline. His mind flooded with all the ways he wanted to touch her, to explore her gentle curves without the barrier
of clothes between them. Not that he could pursue those thoughts or even indulge the kiss to the fullest with so many people around them.
But someday they would share more.
He was determined.
When the time and place was right, he would kiss every inch of her beautiful body.
With a final skim of his lips over hers, he eased back, taking in the heat in her molten dark eyes. “Damn, lady, you take my breath away.”
“You’re a smooth talker,” she said skeptically, but he could see that her pulse still raced, throbbing along her neck.
“I’m actually better known for being a blunt speaker of truth.” Which was important for her to know.
If she couldn’t be trusted, she needed to know where he stood. And if she was being truthful and was a victim, then she needed to know he was a straight shooter.
“Since the pianist is taking a break,” he said, “let’s get something to drink and have a seat. We can talk.”
She nodded, her pupils still wide with desire. With a tender hand trailing down her spine and resting on the small of her back, Ward guided her past the partiers. She seemed to sigh into his touch, the muscles melting with his caresses. A reaction that made his heart hammer with impatience. Anticipation.
As they rounded the roulette table, a bevy of applause erupted. The crowd moved around a blonde in her midfifties. Even from across the room, he would know that glittering silhouette anywhere. The gap in the crowd revealed Jeannie Mikkelson standing cross-armed in a jade-green sequined ball gown, talking to her youngest son. Brea’s neck snapped to attention, and he felt the tension return to her. Could see the unease work upward from her low back to her shoulders. Knew her nerves must be fraying. Knew he had to take action.
Ward steered her toward the quieter corridor. On his way, he snagged two glasses of champagne. Echoes of music from the grand piano drifted with them down the hall. The casino theme continued—larger-than-life cards with hearts flanked the walls. And there, in front of them, was the quietest Steele of all the siblings and the woman of the hour, Delaney Steele.
The Secret Twin Page 5