The Forbidden Bride-To-Be. Kathryn Taylor

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      “Yeah.” He logged off and leaned back in his seat. “So when’s the big day?”

      ‘What big day?”

      “Your wedding.”

      “Oh,” Damon mumbled. “Sophie hasn’t set a date yet.”

      Alex laughed. “Smart girl.”

      “You don’t believe I’ll go through with it.”

      “I never gave it a thought either way,” he lied smoothly.

      “So, what do you think? Does she remind you of anyone?”

      Although Alex’s first glimpse had brought back old memories, Sophie affected him in a way no other woman ever had. On second thought, there hadn’t been much of a resemblance at all. Whereas his ex had been a cool, regal beauty, Sophie was the personification of wild passion. “Should she?”

      “Don’t you think she looks like Marie?”

      He feigned bewilderment. “Who?”

      “Your ex-fiancée.”

      “You mean your ex-lover.”

      “Still holding that against me?” Damon gave him a wounded frown that he pulled off with such practiced ease. “Isn’t five years a bit long to be carrying a grudge?”

      Alex shrugged as if he couldn’t care less. He was grateful he’d found out before the wedding instead of after. Last he heard, his faithless ex was on her third marriage. “You brought her name up, not me.”

      “You’re right. Besides, Sophie is nothing like Marie.”

      “You mean she’s not trying to figure out how much you’re worth in alimony before the wedding?”

      Damon laughed. “Cheap shot—but true. Marie was a cold bitch.” He seemed to have conveniently forgotten his own part in that fiasco.

      “Why don’t you save yourself the trouble and tell me what this visit is really about?”

      “I wanted Sophie to meet my family. Nothing more.”

      Alex noted that his brother hadn’t mentioned any words of love, or even lust. Lord knew, he could sympathize with that. “All right. Play it your way. So, what does she do?”

      “She’s a graphic artist by trade. Freelance, mostly. But if you’re nice to her, you might get her to tell your fortune. She has a real gift for seeing into the future.”

      “Is that right?” Alex wouldn’t mind a peek into the future. Say, one week from today to see what this charade was really about. “I might just ask her.”

      “She’s got real Gypsy blood in her.”

      A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that. She does make quite an impression.” An impression that affected him physically whenever he remembered their encounter.

      “So you don’t mind if we settle here after the wedding?”

      “You’ll have to run that past Elaine. Two queens in one castle could make for strained living conditions. Are you sure your little Gypsy will want to live with her mother-in-law?”

      “What about you?” Damon’s question held a trace of challenge. He was apparently searching for something he could exploit to his benefit.

      Alex curled his fingers around a crystal paperweight and tapped it against the oak desk. “It’s a big house. I’ll adjust when I’m around.”

      “Of course, I’d prefer to give my wife her own house, but I can’t while my money is tied up in this one.”

      He had wondered how long it would take before Damon brought up the subject. “Your track record with money hasn’t been a winning one. You might thank me one day for keeping a roof over your head. Especially if you have a wife to take care of.”

      “Don’t you think it’s time you stop trying to protect me from myself? The restaurant was a good investment. I just got in too deep.”

      Alex refrained from reminding his brother that living way above his means would always get him in too deep. Six years earlier, he had bought out Damon’s and Elaine’s shares of the company, and neither one had a dime left of their substantial inheritance. Alex would have given in to pressure to sell the estate, too, only he’d promised his father he would look out for his stepfamily. Problem was, they didn’t want his help. They wanted unconditional access to his money.

      “You come talk to me after the wedding and we’ll discuss this again.”

      Damon slumped forward in the chair. “Why wait? You always said you’d sell when one of us got married.”

      “And I will, when you’re married. Call it my wedding present to the two of you.” Alex was relatively sure his brother wouldn’t be collecting on the gift. But if he was wrong...? He wasn’t ready to contemplate the answer.

      Two

      Sophie slowly opened her eyes. Disoriented, she stared for a few groggy seconds before she realized the white tile ceiling was not her own. After stretching the last of the sleep from her body, she slid her legs over the edge of the bed. How long had she been asleep? A glance out the window gave her the answer. The flaming sun hovered just above the horizon. The long car ride must have wiped her out. It had to be close to eight o’clock.

      Why hadn’t Damon called her for dinner?

      She shed her wrinkled clothes in favor of a pair of black jeans and pale yellow blouse and ran a brush through her hair. She hoped her absence from dinner hadn’t been taken as an insult.

      As she stepped into the hall, she was surprised by the quiet. No music or sounds of television. Not even the drifting hums of conversation could be heard. Where was everybody? The clack of her sandals echoed off the high walls. As she descended the stairs, she repressed the urge to hop on the solid oak banister and ride to the bottom.

      The only signs of life seemed to be coming from the kitchen. She entered the room to find the butler and an older woman enjoying a cup of coffee. They both rose quickly to their feet.

      “I’m sorry,” Sophie stammered. “I guess I missed dinner.”

      “Master Damon said you weren’t to be disturbed,” the butler said. “I’ll have Cook bring a plate to the dining room for you.”

      It was bad enough she had rudely slept through her hosts’ evening meal, she wasn’t about to have the staff go out of their way on her behalf. “I’m not hungry. Where is Damon?”

      “He went to the club with his mother for a while. Master Alexander is around somewhere. Would you like me to find him?” Such formality seemed more suited to a feudal system. Did the family always demand such propriety?

      “No. I’ll just grab an apple or two and take a walk around.”

      “As you СКАЧАТЬ