The Groom's Stand-In. Gina Wilkins

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Her heart pounding, she peered tentatively over the balcony. “Donovan?”

      On the ground below her, a figure stepped out of the shadows of a bushy tree and into the range of a motion-triggered security light. The resulting yellowish illumination exaggerated the angles and planes of Donovan’s firmly carved face, making him appear even more a stranger than he had before. He’d changed from his conservative clothing into a black pullover and black jeans, and he looked very much at home in the darkness.

      “What are you doing down there?” She hadn’t even realized he was outside, having assumed he was asleep in one of the other bedrooms.

      “Just patrolling the grounds.”

      “So security guard is also on your job description?”

      She wasn’t surprised when he responded with one of his laconic shrugs, then changed the subject. “Couldn’t sleep?”

      Leaning her arms against the railing, she looked down at him. “I guess I wasn’t as tired as I thought I was.”

      After a slight pause, he asked, “Want to come outside for a walk?”

      “Thanks, but entertaining me isn’t on your job description.”

      “Actually, it is. I promised Bryan I’d make sure you aren’t bored until he gets here.”

      Because he made her sound like a cranky toddler he was endeavoring to humor, she replied a bit coolly. “I’m not at all bored.”

      Bryan had commented often on his second-in-command’s commitment; when Donovan Chance took on an assignment, he gave it his full attention. Apparently, he considered her his latest assignment. He was grimly determined to keep her entertained until he could hand her over to his employer. A depressing thought, she discovered, though she didn’t care to analyze why.

      “I believe I’ll turn in now,” she said, taking a step back from the rail. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

      He nodded. “Call out if you need anything.”

      “I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She couldn’t imagine any reason she would be calling for Donovan Chance during the night.

      A shiver went through her as she reentered her bedroom and locked the balcony door. It felt strangely like a premonition—which only reinforced her belief that she was stressed-out about being here at all.

      She really should have listened to her sister.

      Chapter Three

      Donovan didn’t require much sleep, but he managed even less than usual during that night. He kept being awakened by the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Or that there was something he should be doing. Because his instincts were so often right, he’d tested all the locks—twice—and he’d patrolled the grounds. He could find nothing wrong, nothing pressing he needed to attend to before morning.

      He had to assume he was simply overreacting to the unusual situation he found himself in that evening.

      He would be glad when Bryan arrived and he could turn Chloe Pennington over to him—or at least, he should be glad. After spending several hours with Chloe, he could understand what had attracted Bryan to her. Had she not already been claimed by his best friend, Donovan might have considered making a move on her, but since Bryan was involved, that, of course, was a line he would never cross.

      As for this marriage plan…he still couldn’t approve. While he wasn’t quite as certain now that Chloe was only after Bryan’s money, he still doubted that she had any deep feelings for his friend. There had been some warmth in her voice when she’d talked about Bryan during dinner, but it was almost as if she’d been speaking of a distant acquaintance that she rather liked, rather than someone who should be far more important to her.

      He didn’t know what her motives were, exactly—whether they were money, security or social connections—but he would bet Chloe wasn’t planning to marry Bryan for love. And while Bryan might insist that he wasn’t looking for that sort of bond—just as Donovan wasn’t interested in falling under some romantic spell—it still seemed that there should be something more to a marriage than amiable companionship.

      Shifting restlessly in the bed he usually occupied during his frequent stays here, Donovan told himself he really should mind his own business when it came to Bryan’s matrimonial plans. What did he know about marriage, anyway? His own parents had probably considered themselves in love when they married, and that had been a disaster. Bryan’s parents could hardly stand each other, but they were still together, apparently content with the arrangement they’d come to during the past forty years.

      If Bryan wanted the same sort of cool, convenient alliance, who was he to interfere, even if Bryan would allow him to do so?

      Donovan rolled over again in the bed, telling himself to go to sleep and stop fretting about things that were beyond his control. And then he found himself remembering the sight of Chloe standing on that balcony in the moonlight, wearing her floaty nightclothes and looking pretty enough to make a man almost forget how to think.

      Donovan was not in a good mood.

      Chloe didn’t know if he hadn’t gotten enough sleep or if he was just bored, but he’d been all but snarling at her ever since she’d joined him in the kitchen. She’d risen early, but he’d already had coffee made and breakfast cooked.

      “I hope you like oatmeal,” he’d said. “It’s one of the few things I know how to cook.”

      “I like oatmeal,” she had answered, warily eyeing his stern expression.

      “Good.”

      She didn’t think he’d said a complete sentence since, she mused as they stacked their bowls and spoons in the dishwasher a short time later.

      She glanced at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t even 9:00 a.m. yet. “What time did Bryan say he would be here?”

      If anything, the question only seemed to make Donovan grumpier. “He didn’t know, exactly. Late afternoon—early evening, maybe.”

      The hours in between stretched ahead of her like a gaping hole she had no idea how to fill. She’d packed a couple of books, but it seemed rather rude to close herself in her room for the rest of the day. Or maybe Donovan would prefer that she do just that, freeing him from the responsibility of entertaining her.

      After closing the dishwasher door, he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s a nice day out, even though it’s cloudy,” he said abruptly. “Why don’t I show you around the place? You’ll probably be spending a lot of time here. It’s Bryan’s favorite retreat when he needs to get away from the everyday grind.”

      He seemed to be again assuming that she and Bryan would be married, despite her reminders that she hadn’t made that decision yet. Since it didn’t seem to serve any purpose to continue reminding him, she merely nodded and said, “All right. I’d enjoy a tour.”

      He glanced at the thin, coral-colored T-shirt she’d donned with khakis. “You’d better grab a jacket. It’s still a little cool out.”

      For some reason, his words evoked an image СКАЧАТЬ