The Groom's Stand-In (Special Edition) Read online

  “I like it.”

  “Thank you.” She motioned toward the couches arranged for conversation around the fireplace. “Sit down. See if you can explain to me what’s going on. I assume you’ve figured it out?”

  “I think so.”

  He waited for her to be seated, and then he sat on the same couch, though at the other end. He turned to face her. “I didn’t realize Grace and Bryan had stayed in touch since you and I got back.”

  “As far as I know, they haven’t. I’ve spoken with Bryan a few times, but the only time he mentioned Grace was when he would tell me to say hi to her for him. And I certainly can’t imagine that she would have conspired with him for anything like this.”

  “Obviously, she did. Uh, Bryan can be impulsive sometimes. Especially when something amuses him.”

  “So can Grace. It’s never easy to predict what she’s going to do. But this…”

  Because it still made no sense to her, Chloe’s thoughts drifted from Grace’s strange behavior. She studied Donovan’s face, thinking there was some slight difference in his expression, and trying to decide what it was. “I thought you might call me after we returned to our homes. I was disappointed that you didn’t,” she admitted.

  His mouth pulled a bit at one corner. “I didn’t want to intrude on your life. And I wasn’t sure you’d want to be reminded of what you went through with me.”

  She shook her head. “That wouldn’t have been a problem. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about those days we spent together.”

  “Neither have I.”

  His low admission gave her the courage to say, “I’ve missed you, Donovan.”

  He looked down at his hands. “You certainly didn’t waste any time breaking things off with Bryan. I would have thought you’d have given it a little more time.”

  “I didn’t need any more time. I knew there was no future between us. I told you so in that forest, though you didn’t seem to believe me at the time.”

  “I believed you. I just thought—”

  “I know. You thought I’d been so traumatized by the ordeal that I couldn’t think straight. That my poor little nerves had been overwrought.”

  He gave her a chiding glance in response to her sarcasm—but at least he was looking at her. “I didn’t think that, exactly. I just thought you needed more time for Bryan to convince you what a great guy he is.”

  “I didn’t need to be convinced of that. Bryan is a terrific guy. A real prince. And he deserves someone better than me.”

  Donovan scowled. “That’s bull. He could never find anyone better than you.”

  Locking her hands in her lap, Chloe hoped her instincts about Donovan’s feelings were right. If not, she was on the verge of making a fool of herself. Not to mention the fact that she was about to risk a very painful rejection.

  Despite the enormous stakes, she managed to speak evenly. “You say you want the best for Bryan. Would you honestly want him to marry someone who’s desperately in love with his best friend?”

  Donovan went so still he could have been carved from marble. She wasn’t even sure he breathed for the next minute or two.

  Her fingers clenched so tightly the knuckles ached when she spoke again. “You said my feelings would change when we were out of that forest and back in our real lives. You were wrong. I still feel the same way.”

  His jaw clenched as he slowly shook his head. “I’m not the kind of man you’ve been looking for. I’ve never wanted marriage or kids.”

  “You didn’t want them—or you never thought you would have them because of the bad experiences of your past?” she countered.

  “Same difference.”

  “No. Not even similar.”

  “You deserve better,” he muttered, his usually bright-green eyes dark with suppressed emotion.

  “I deserve the same thing Bryan does,” she whispered. “Someone who loves me.”

  She watched his throat work with a hard swallow.

  “I asked you once how you felt about me,” she reminded him again, her tone very gentle now. “You said it wasn’t relevant then. I think it is relevant now. How do you feel about me, Donovan?”

  His voice was so low she could hardly hear him. “I’ve never been in love. I’m not even sure I know what the word means. But I know you haven’t been out of my thoughts for one minute since I left you. I know I’ve never met any woman I admired or respected more. I know I want you so badly my teeth ache. I wake up every night in a cold sweat, aching for you. Missing you.”

  Tears were running down her cheeks now. Tears of joy. Of relief. Of hope. And of sympathy, because this was obviously so difficult for him. “That’s close enough.”

  He held up a hand. “I also know that it would kill me if I hurt you or let you down. I don’t ever want to see you suffer again. I don’t ever want to cause you pain. But I’m afraid I will, because I don’t know how the hell to go about making a woman happy. I can give you things—my association with Bryan has made me very comfortable financially—but I know that isn’t enough for you.”

  She dashed a hand against her cheek. “No. If money and material things were enough to make me happy, I would have married Bryan. But you’re right, it takes a lot more than that to make me happy.”

  “And you think you can be happy with me?” He sounded as though that concept was almost impossible for him to believe.

  She couldn’t resist reaching out to touch his hard cheek. “I know I will. And I know I can make you happy, too, if you’ll let me.”

  Catching her hand, he pressed his lips to her palm in a hard caress that made her heart trip. “There are people who would say you’re crazy to choose me over Bryan.”

  “I don’t care what anyone says. In my opinion, I’ve chosen the best man. I love you, Donovan.”

  He pulled her into his arms, his mouth crushing hers in a kiss that said everything he couldn’t put into words. Sheer poetry, she decided, happily losing herself in the embrace.

  “How long do you think Bryan and Grace will stay away?” she murmured against his lips.

  “I don’t expect to see them for awhile.” He brushed his fingers experimentally through her short hair, seemed to like the feeling and did it again. “Why—do you want to go fishing?”

  She gave him a look. “Now is not the time to start teasing me,” she informed him, breaking away from his arms to stand and offer him her hand. “You can prove that you really do have a sense of humor after you make love with me.”

  “Are you going to be a demanding sort of wife?” he asked as he rose to stand beside her.

  Wife. The word shot through her like an arrow. Was this Donovan’s idea of a proposal?

  She swallowed before answering lightly, “Yes, I’m going to be very high-maintenance. You’re going to have to spend the rest of your life catering to my whims.”

  He pretended to give her warning a moment’s thought, and then he nodded. “I can live with that.”

  Apparently, they were engaged.

  So the man she loved wasn’t exactly the most romantic or silver-tongued charmer in the world. She didn’t care. She adored him exactly the way he was.

  Smiling like an idiot, Chloe led him up the stairs toward the bedroom that had always been hers. He stopped at the top of the stairs to kiss her half senseless again.

  “There’s only one problem,” he murmured, his hands already exploring her curves. “I didn’t come prepared for this. I know you want kids, but…”

  She broke away with a shaky laugh, feeling as though her skin was melting everywhere he’d touched. “Wait right here,” she ordered, and dashed into Grace’s room, where she rummaged through a nightstand drawer, emerging with a couple of plastic packets she had suspected she would find there.

  She returned triumphantly to Donovan. “I do want children,” she assured him, leading him into the other bedroom. “But not quite yet.”

  Being the gentleman that he was, he didn’t ask any questions about the con
veniently appearing condoms. She would tell him another time about Grace’s broken engagement, and the weekends Grace had once spent here with the man she had planned to marry—but for now, she concentrated only on her own engagement. One that she was certain would end much more happily than her twin’s had.

  Finally closed into the small, early-American-furnished bedroom with the slanted roof and daydream-tempting window seat, Donovan turned to pull her back into his arms. It didn’t take him long to rid her of her tank top and shorts, nor the flimsy bra and panties she had worn beneath. He growled approval of the skin he’d revealed, his fingers exploring her so slowly and so skillfully that he soon brought her to shivering incoherence by his touch alone.

  She helped him remove his own clothes, though her hands were shaking so hard she fumbled more than she assisted. She had never wanted anyone more than she wanted Donovan now. She had never ached, never burned like this. When he finally stood in front of her, naked except for the short cast below his right knee, she saw to her utter delight that he had a powerful ache for her, too.

  She reached for him, drawing him slowly against her. Her breath caught when they finally stood skin-to-skin. He groaned.

  His hands cupped her bottom, drew her tightly against his rock-hard arousal. She rubbed against him, knowing she was playing with fire, but loving the tremor that ran through him in response. Donovan’s control was so formidable that it gave her a heady sense of feminine power to know she had the ability to break through it.

  He tumbled her to the bed, falling with her, his mouth locked with hers. She ran her hands over as much of him as she could reach, loving the hard, hot, pulsing strength of him. He didn’t wait for her assistance with the protection she’d found for him. He donned it swiftly and with a skill that bespoke experience she wouldn’t think about right now.

  And then he made her incapable of thinking at all by thrusting so deeply into her that she fancied they would never be completely separate again. He’d made them one—physically, emotionally, permanently.

  “I love you, Donovan,” she whispered, wrapping herself around him.

  “I love you, too,” he murmured, his mouth against hers. “This has to be love. It’s too much to be anything else.”

  That made her cry. And then he made her soar.

  She’d known since those days in the forest that they were a perfect match. Together, there were no obstacles they could not overcome.

  She’d been looking for a partner. She had found a mate. Now she understood the difference.

  They had been recuperating in each other’s arms for a long time when they were disturbed by the buzz of Donovan’s cell phone, which he’d set on the nightstand when he’d removed the clip from his belt.

  “Ignore it,” he said when Chloe reached for it.

  She shook her head and handed him the small plastic phone, her smile so drowsily satisfied that he almost threw the phone aside and fell onto her again. “It’s probably Bryan. You really should talk to him.”

  Though he sighed, he held the phone to his ear. “What?”

  “I was just wondering if you need a ride any time soon,” Bryan said without bothering to identify himself. “Or if you’re still speaking to me.”

  “I won’t be needing a ride for a while. And I’ll have plenty to say to you later,” Donovan growled in response.

  “How’s Chloe?”

  “Chloe is fine,” Donovan replied, nuzzling against her temple, enjoying the way her newly short hair tickled his cheek. She murmured her pleasure and pressed a kiss to his throat.

  “Grace and I thought the two of you needed to talk. Knowing how stubborn you can be, I thought this might be the only way to convince you.”

  “Mm. From now on, let me make my own moves.” He shifted against the sheets as Chloe’s hand wandered over his stomach and then dipped downward.

  “I’ll do that. So, um, things are working out between the two of you?”

  “Let’s just put it this way. Chloe took your advice about making a choice with her heart instead of her head.”

  “I always said Chloe was a remarkable woman.”

  Donovan cleared his throat, trying to read the underlying expression in his friend’s voice. “Uh—Bryan…”

  “If ever I’ve seen two people who were more right for each other, it’s you and Chloe. It just took us all a while to realize it. Do yourself a favor, D.C. Let yourself be happy for a change.”

  Bryan disconnected the call before Donovan could come up with a response.

  “Bryan and Grace as matchmakers,” Chloe murmured, shaking her head. “It’s very bizarre.”

  Donovan was rather dazed by the image, as well. “What I can’t figure out is how they knew the way we feel about each other. Unless you said something…?”

  “I didn’t say anything,” she assured him. “And since I sincerely doubt that you did, either, we must have been more transparent to the people who care most about us than we thought.”

  “Apparently.” He hesitated a moment, then asked slowly, “You, uh, are still going to marry me, aren’t you?”

  She looked at him quizzically. “Did you think I would suddenly change my mind?”

  “Well…”

  She sighed. “I can tell it’s going to take me a while to convince you that I’m very certain of what I’m doing this time. I’ve reminded you on numerous occasions that I never told Bryan I would marry him, because I sensed that it wasn’t right. And I never even pretended to love him. This time I have no doubts. I love you.”

  Donovan told himself he was going to have to start believing her sometime—even though it still seemed incredible to him that Chloe had chosen him over Bryan. And he did believe her…but he figured a little more convincing wouldn’t hurt.

  “Since we’re stranded here for a while longer,” he murmured, gathering her close again.

  “We might as well make good use of our time,” she finished for him, lifting her mouth to his.

  “Exactly what I was thinking.”

  “See?” she asked, just before they both lost the ability to speak. “We’re the perfect match, after all.”

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-4032-2

  THE GROOM’S STAND-IN

  Copyright © 2002 by Gina Wilkins

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 300 East 42nd Street, New York, NY 10017 U.S.A.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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