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The Secret Twin
The Secret Twin

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The Secret Twin

Язык: Английский
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And yes, maybe she’d had the tiniest hope that she could have her family back.

But Naomi hadn’t even recognized her. There hadn’t been a single spark of recognition. Even knowing it was irrational to expect Naomi to know her—even in disguise, even after all this time—that total loss of connection had still hurt.

Her father stepped from the doorway, into the corridor, the others still hanging back in the conference room, behind the glass window. “Good afternoon, Brea,” her lumbering father said in that voice that sounded like he’d gargled rocks over the years. “I didn’t know you were here.”

Somehow he managed to look exactly like she remembered him from before the plane crash. Broad-chested. His eyes the unflinching blue of the Atlantic Ocean. Hair still dark and thick, although flecked with gray these days. As he looked at her now, she saw hope cross his angular jaw as his mouth relaxed into a small, nearly imperceptible smile.

That sure seemed to be the comment of the day. “I came by to speak with Ward.”

Her father’s eyebrows met, creasing his forehead. “What about?”

Her heart hammered again as she looked at Ward with panic. Was he going to rat her out? She wouldn’t blame him. And she hated how easily she’d just lied. And lied poorly, for that matter. Could her inability to think quickly have had something to do with the distracting touch of Ward’s hand on her back?

Just as she opened her mouth to spin out a better version of her fib, a breathless woman rushed up the hallway, toward them, pushing a stroller. It took Brea a moment to place her as Isabeau Mikkelson, wife of Trystan, mother of little Everett, and a media consultant.

The frazzled redhead thrust a binder toward Jack. “Here are the printouts of the guest list for the engagement party for Delaney and Birch, so you and Jeannie can work with them on the seating chart.” She rushed to add, “And I locked down the vintage roulette wheel for the casino theme.”

Smoothing her shoulder-length hair, Isabeau smiled gently. A calming soul. One of the people Brea instinctively felt to be genuine. Besides, Isabeau wasn’t connected to the Mikkelsons by blood. And Brea had to admit, that lack of connection made Isabeau intriguing as a potential information source. There was that old saying that those on the margins could see the center best. And damn, did Brea need a better vantage point.

Jack nodded. “Seating chart. Casino theme. Got it.”

His words blurred together as Brea studied her family through the hall window. They were scattered around the conference room, some speaking in pairs, others clustered behind Jack.

Brea’s gaze skirted to her baby sister, Delaney, a slender woman with dark wavy hair, standing quietly. Dressed in a simple red sweater dress and knee-high cognac-colored boots, Delaney visibly brightened as she leaned forward to look at the paper Isabeau handed to Jack Steele.

Brea swallowed hard. Memories of playing dress up with her sisters, decades ago, scrolled through her mind. Days of making bridal veils from towels with her sisters. They’d dreamed of planning those real family events together.

Her life was such a jumble.

Brea remembered her family, her childhood. But in the years that had passed since the crash, it felt like those memories had become unreliable. Thanks to the lies and betrayal of her “adoptive” parents, she questioned what was real...and what she wanted to believe.

There was so little she knew for certain. Such as how her mother had a special seal hunting knife called an ulu that she’d used to cut their pizza. Her mother’s impossibly strong and reassuring “I love you” as the plane had plummeted.

Everything else? Up for debate and analysis.

The caress of Ward’s hand on the small of her back pulled Brea back to the present. She looked at him, startled, curious.

His smile gave her only a moment’s warning before he announced, “I guess this is as good a time as any to let them know our little secret.”

Panic sent her heart racing. Had he seen her take off the gloves after all? Maybe there were cameras in his office?

“Um, let’s talk about this.”

“You’re such a tenderhearted woman.” His hand slid up her spine in a body-melting stroke that ended with his arm around her shoulders. His expression showed a warmth she’d never seen from him before. “It’s sweet of you to worry what your family will think. I know they’ve only just gotten you back, but I think they’ll understand the need to share you.”

“Share me?” She was struggling for air.

Talk about being knocked off-balance. Her efforts to pull one over on her family had been amateur compared to this move. And she was too damned speechless to come up with a rebuttal as he tucked her closer to his side.

“Yes. Share you. With your boyfriend.” Ward’s grin dug dimples in his wind-weathered face before he announced, “Brea and I are dating.”

Two

Ward was a man of action and swift decisions.

And he saw that this was the perfect opportunity to keep Brea in his sights—as his “girlfriend.” Now he just needed to get Brea away from her family ASAP to convince her that he was right before she denied they were dating and blew up the whole charade.

“I’ll be right back, after I see Brea to her car so she’s not late for her dental appointment.” Ward filled the stunned silence so he could direct the conversation. “Go ahead and get started without me. I’ll catch up.”

With a quick nod, he hustled her toward the elevator, as fast as possible, before the stunned Steeles and Mikkelsons could start asking questions. As he walked quickly down the corridor, thank heaven, she stayed at his side, for whatever reason. Shock? Curiosity? Or... Who knew what went on inside that woman’s mind.

The minute the elevator door closed them inside, Brea stomped her foot, leveling him with eyes as dark as fire-hot coals. “Have you lost your mind? What the hell was that all about back there?”

He tapped the stop button, halting the elevator midfloor. “That was about keeping you close to my side. The snooping has to stop. At least while you’re pretending to be my girlfriend, I can watch you.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “You can’t be serious. You actually expect me to pretend to be your girlfriend so you can keep tabs on me? And you think people will believe that we’ve been secretly dating?” She shook her head quickly, restlessly turning away, then back to him again. “You have got to be kidding.”

“I’m dead serious.” That much was true. His job was everything to him. He would not be made a laughingstock by a snoop who should just talk to her family...unless she had some darker motive. In which case, she should be kept under close scrutiny. He would be the one to take on that task because he was in charge. And yes, because of attraction crackling between them like sparks showing from a blazing fire. “I’m single. There are events I need to attend with a plus-one. This also saves me time.”

“That’s an absurd excuse.” Her voice went higher with frustration. “Be real. What could you have to gain from this charade? If you’re that worried about little ole me, why not just install some security cameras?”

“You’re right. I could up the security system to watch every inch of any space we control on the off chance I catch you getting up to something.” He paused, and then pointed out logically, “And then, if I were successful, your dad and your siblings would forever see me as the person who revealed their princess to be an evil queen. This way, I can be more proactive.”

“Princess? Evil queen? You’re weird.” Sighing, she furrowed her brow. “How is that different from catching me at something while I’m your pretend girlfriend?”

“I’m not weird. Just logical. If I’m watching you, you won’t have a chance to be in that position. Besides, you’ll get to stick close to me. And since you seem to be there every time I turn around, I have reason to believe that must hold some kind of appeal for you, too.” He tugged her ponytail, testing the silky texture between his fingers, imagining it spread out over the pillow next to him. “And yes, there’s more in it for me than just a plus-one for events. As a bonus, I gain acceptance by the board of directors. Being with you makes me a de facto member of the family.”

Her eyebrows shot up in horror. “We are not getting married just to lock down your new job in the company.”

“Of course not. I’m not that Machiavellian.” He smoothed her silky ponytail back along her shoulder, her pupils widening with awareness at his touch. “But by the time that would be an issue, you and I can break up.”

“I’m not dating you for that long.” Then she rushed to add, “I’m not dating you at all. Start the elevator.”

Ah, she’d mentioned dating. He was making progress. And that filled him with a surge of success. And desire. “We would only go out for a month, until the vote at the next general board meeting for all the shareholders.”

She hesitated, worrying her bottom lip. “Then we just...what? We break up?”

He pulled his eyes off her moist lips.

“That’s how it works, yes. You can even dump me.” He winked, taking heart in her light chuckle. “And by all means, make it public and humiliating, in front of your entire family and all my friends—”

“You have friends?” Her deadpan words didn’t match the hint of amusement in her eyes.

“I do.” He nodded, leaning in such a way that he blocked the elevator buttons. Before long, someone would start it again, but he intended to make the most of their time alone for now. “I have to pay them to be my friends. But they stay loyal as long as I deliver the roll of quarters each week.” Which wasn’t totally true. He didn’t have many friends, not even paid ones. He wasn’t the sort to hang out with buddies. He was too busy working until midnight.

She scrunched her nose. “You really are weird.”

“Maybe.” He was certainly a workaholic. Although, so was most of her family. It was one of the reasons he now held this CEO position. “But the offer for you to dump me in a billboard fashion stands.”

“How generous of you. Maybe I’ll get one of my siblings to fly a seaplane with a banner.” She lifted her chin, jaw jutting with signature Steele confidence that no amount of years away could erase.

“Trust me, my ego can take it.”

She studied him for a moment, her exotic eyes narrowing. “Then what’s in it for me?”

“Aside from getting to dump me? Isn’t that entertainment and payment enough?” He thumped himself on the chest in faux shock.

She rolled her eyes. “While that is an enticing proposition, I’m going to need a little more before I sign on to this plan.”

He straightened, ditching the humor and closing the deal. “You’ll keep me from ratting you out about being in my office. And you’ll get more access to your family with me as an excuse for you to be in and out of this office.”

“I’m listening.” She waved him on, leaning a slim shoulder against the mirrored elevator wall. “Continue...”

Her sweater pulled snug across her breasts as she folded her arms. His gaze followed the curve of her hip, which was cocked to one side. She drew him in, no doubt.

“I can be a buffer between you and your family.” Which would give him the chance to gauge her motivations. No way was he going to let her tank this company. He’d always been a driven individual at work. But even more so now. His career was all he had left, and he refused to allow any threat to his professional reputation. “If you’re feeling stressed or uncomfortable, cue me and we can leave.”

“Or I could just walk out if they upset me.”

He liked the confidence in her voice. But he also knew the situation with her family was far more complicated than that. “You could. But having a buffer so you could make a speedy, nonconfrontational exit would be easier.”

“How so?” She looked skeptical.

“We come up with a safe word. If you say it in casual conversation, that lets me know you want to leave. I’ll find an out so you don’t have to make awkward excuses on the spot.”

“Safe word?” Her eyebrows shot upward.

“Bear with me,” he said. “I had this uncle who was a preacher. His wife used to get stuck at long functions and meals. So she came up with a conversational gimmick that let her husband know she needed to leave. Immediately.”

“What was their word?”

“Words. Anchors aweigh. Which is technically two words, but you get the gist.” Stifling a grin, he imagined his aunt working the safe word into their conversation.

A smile twitched at her lips, mesmerizing him. “That’s a strange phrase.”

“It worked.” He enjoyed seeing her lighter hearted. He didn’t want a real relationship, not after his bitter divorce, but he couldn’t deny he was enjoying the banter. And she was smoking hot, to boot.

A part of him was hoping she’d say yes to this for more than just reasons related to her family. He couldn’t deny he was drawn to her. And since he was going to be leading this company, he needed to work through the attraction to her sooner rather than later. Issues left unaddressed became distractions.

And she was already a major distraction.

“Okay then. What do you suggest?”

He thought for a moment, his eyes landing on a framed painting of a home with stone figureheads worked into the architecture. “Gargoyle.”

“Gargoyle?” She burst out laughing.

Tension faded from her expression to be replaced by a smile that knocked the air from his lungs. Damn, she was a beautiful woman. Pulling his attention off her delicate features and back on the task at hand, he took heart in making progress with her.

He’d been in business long enough to know when he’d closed the deal. “Do we have an agreement?”

Her eyes narrowed, but her smile didn’t fade. “Just until the next general board meeting.”

“One month,” he said, confident now that he could win her over to extending their time together if needed. For now he’d made major progress. He was going to be able to watch over her. And if she was up to something, he would find out what.

And he had to admit, spending time with her wouldn’t be a hardship in the least. She drew him with everything from her sexy curves to the sweep of her eyelashes when she cast a glance his way... She was definitely a distraction he needed to work out of his system.

“So, this is just pretend?”

“As long as you say so. And if you’re ever uncomfortable, just remember.” He winked, tapping the start button on the elevator. “Gargoyle.”

* * *

Even five hours later, in her new one-bedroom apartment, Breanna’s brain was still reeling from Ward’s surprise proposition. Sure, he was smart, sexy, and powerful, and while all of that drew her in, she’d been holding strong.

Until she’d been knocked off-balance by his surprise sense of humor.

She should have put up more of a fight. Or extracted additional tradeoffs. But she’d been unsettled by being caught in his office, and then unexpectedly seeing her family, all of which had lowered her defenses.

Checking her emails on her phone now, she leaned against the cool counter space. The granite pressed into her skin as she skimmed her inbox to see if any of her clients needed anything. As a virtual shopper for those who were homebound or in need of help, her hours were a little inconsistent. No new emails since she’d checked an hour ago, which meant she could turn her attention back to the blueberry and raspberry muffins she was baking, needing to do something productive since she hadn’t managed to find anything useful on the flash drive yet.

Frustration filled her. She forced herself to focus on the routine of baking. Grounding herself in the moment. Muted light filtered in through the windows, dappling the dark wood floors and small kitchen area.

She was so grateful to have found this space for her time here in Alaska while she sifted through the rubble of her past. Her uncle’s new wife—Felicity Hunt Steele—had offered this space to sublet. Other Steele relatives had suggested Brea stay with them, but the stress of that was more than Brea could wrap her head around.

A chirp of the kitchen timer in the shape of a plump, plucky hen snapped Brea to attention. She grabbed the gold polka-dot oven mitt from the kitchen counter and peeked into the oven. A wave of warmed-berry scent rode the air, escaping through the open oven door. Such a sweet scent. It made her stomach growl in anticipation. A memory flashed through her mind of berry picking with her siblings and parents, of her dad telling her to avoid the white berries, which were poisonous.

She swallowed hard before the past could swamp her with too many recollections at once. The faster they came, the tougher it was to gauge which ones were real.

A dish towel in hand, she pulled the muffins from the pan, one by one. Since she’d shed her disguise as Milla Jones and returned to Alaska last month, she’d been spending controlled amounts of time with her family. Always with others present, including her uncle’s new wife, who was a social worker.

Felicity had even given Brea a list of therapists. Not necessarily to facilitate a reunion. But to make sure she kept a clear head and didn’t get hurt. Brea had called numbers on that list until she found a counselor she was comfortable with, one who could help her.

She wasn’t sure if she would reconcile with her family or not, but she needed some semblance of peace with her past before she could move on with the future. She’d known that on some level when she’d come to Alaska, posing as Milla Jones.

And how did her attraction to Ward play into that? It was a dangerous distraction. She would have to keep a close guard on her hormones around this man.

A rapid knock caused her door to shudder, startling her. Rattling awake other memories she did her best to keep locked up in the corners of her mind.

Her gut clenched with tension. She’d spent so many years in that minimalist, off-the-grid community, she still wasn’t used to having such a cluttered world. She walked from her kitchen, through the living area to the front door. She peered through the keyhole...and sighed with relief.

Felicity stood with Tally Benson, Felicity’s friend and the woman who was dating Marshall Steele. These two were easy company, since they weren’t a part of her past. Brea clicked through all three locks and opened the door.

“Hello,” Felicity said, holding up a basket full of pampering bath items—salts, a loofa and towels. She had a way of taking care of everyone, perhaps something to do with her chosen career as a social worker. “We’ve brought housewarming gifts.”

Tally carried a wicker laundry hamper. “All natural cleaning supplies, just for you.”

While trust was difficult, these two women were the only ones Brea had met since her return whom she felt at least partially comfortable with. Although, her relationship with Tally was still complicated. Tally’s father had been the mechanic who worked on the airplane before the crash. He’d committed suicide because of his guilt over what had happened. No one yet knew the full extent of the details of the crash, and Tally’s father had taken his secrets to the grave. But at least the man’s name offered a place to start searching for answers.

“Thank you so much,” Brea said, touched by their kindness, and a little overwhelmed too, especially with the berry-picking memory still so fresh in her mind. “Um, please come inside.”

Felicity hesitated. “Are you sure we’re not imposing?”

Brea laughed softly. “Of course I’m sure, not that I would turn you away. It is your condo and you’ve been kind enough to sublease it to me for next to nothing.”

“You’ve done me a favor,” Felicity said without hesitation. “Now I’m able to live with Conrad without this place hanging over my head unused.”

Brea gestured for the duo to come into the apartment, appreciating the down-to-earth nature of both of these women. “The gifts are lovely. You two didn’t have to do this.”

“Conrad sends his thanks as well for the help with my lease,” Felicity called over her shoulder as if they all didn’t already know Conrad Steele could have paid the rent for her apartment multiple times over. Felicity continued to work at the local hospital, where she’d been today, and her hair was still swept back in a French twist. “You can soak out the tension.”

Tally strode past, her red ponytail swishing. Felicity had taken her under her wing not too long ago. Tally had been a housekeeper and now attended college on a scholarship to become a social worker, as well. “If you need any help, just call me.”

Felicity set the basket on the coffee table, cellophane wrapping crinkling. “Although, for the record,” she said with a smile and an elegantly arched eyebrow, “I did leave the place spotless.”

“You did,” Brea agreed, chewing her bottom lip. It seemed so surreal to have the two women move so effortlessly into her life. Making friends was hard for her after all she’d been through. Even though the small Canadian community had been welcoming, her adoptive parents had been guarded with others. She’d been alone, not even sure she could trust her own instincts, for a long time. Being told that her biological family was deeply corrupt. She was safer away from them. “Thank you for coming over. Both of you. Could I offer you something to drink?”

“Well, actually—” Tally paused, unloading the cleaning supplies and stowing them under the kitchen sink “—we did have another reason for coming by.”

Brea’s stomach knotted with nerves. Closing the front door was tough, especially when she wanted to run. “What would that be?”

Felicity pinned her with a knowing gaze. “When did you start dating Ward Benally?”

Brea exhaled with relief that they weren’t going to grill her about her past. Only to have her nerves return with a vengeance over the mention of her fake boyfriend.

Her very sexy, surprisingly charming fake boyfriend.

She really wasn’t ready for fielding questions about Ward.

“The relationship started very recently.” Very. Very. Recently.

“Well, I’m not surprised at all.” Tally pulled out a barstool from behind the counter and sat, her boot heels resting on the lowest rung. “I noticed the chemistry between the two of you at the fund-raiser last month.”

Had it been obvious even then? Brea had felt the sparks, but she’d liked to think she’d hidden her reaction. Apparently not.

Felicity leaned over to look at the baked goods. “Was that when it started, at the fund-raiser?”

Brea hmmed, taking a bite to fill her mouth and avoid talking. Too bad no one was around who could help if she shouted gargoyle. “Anyone want a muffin?”

Tally pulled napkins from a counter holder. “Yes, please. Although I do hear you trying to change the subject. I imagine you’re wondering how much you can trust the two of us.”

True, but not the sort of thing Brea expected to hear voiced aloud.

“Although—” Felicity broke a muffin in half, then pinched off a bite “—that’s an unwinnable proposition, since no matter what we say, there’s really no way to prove you can trust us at this point. Trust takes time.”

How long? Brea wished she knew. “Spoken like a counselor.”

“Because I am one.” Felicity swept up a crumb into her hand and then into the sink. “For what it’s worth, Tally and I are both new to the Steele family realm. As such, we weren’t a part of the old days, the old problems and whatever happened then. But we’re here for you now and want to be your friends, as well as family.”

Brea wanted to believe that. “I’m still getting to know everyone again.”

“Give it time.” Felicity squeezed her hand.

Tally scrunched her freckled nose, grinning. “And while you’re giving it time, tell us... Does Ward kiss as incredibly as it seems he would?”

Brea felt the heat steal up to her face. That particular topic was occupying far more of her thoughts than it should. Her cell phone dinged with an incoming text and Brea embraced the excuse to step away from the intense conversation. She wanted—needed—a chance to regain her footing. “Excuse me for a moment. I need to check that.”

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