“Understood.”
She nodded once, lowered her eyes. “That scared the hell out of me.”
“Me, too.”
“You’re not supposed to get scared.”
“The only people who don’t get scared are already dead.”
She smiled a little. “Literally or figuratively?”
“Either. Maybe both.”
Drawing a slow breath, she got to her feet. “I’m exhausted.” Then, with a glance toward the bedroom, she asked, “So how are we doing this?”
He stood up, too, closing the distance between them so he could keep his voice low. “As convincingly as possible.” He flicked the off button on the remote, dropped it onto the sofa, slipped back into his Thomas persona. “Go on to bed, my darling. I promise I won’t be long.”
She rolled her eyes, but she did go into the bedroom.
Alex tugged his tie the rest of the way off and unbuttoned his shirt on the way to the shower. He told himself he would have no problem sleeping with Melusine all night and behaving like a man of class and breeding.
Chapter 5
M el crawled into the giant bed, burrowed beneath its mounds of covers and felt comforted by the softness surrounding her. Not as much as she would have in her own bed, beneath her own covers, but she supposed a little comfort was better than none. She could hear the shower running. Alex was in there right now. Probably naked.
She didn’t suppose he slept naked. He was far too civilized for that. And even if he did, he wouldn’t try it here. He probably had a pair of expensive silk pajamas or something.
The bed was certainly big enough. So big she probably wouldn’t even notice a difference when he got in. Maybe she could manage to fall asleep before then. That would probably be a good idea.
She closed her eyes, curled onto her side, tried to relax her face.
The shower stopped running. She tried to tune out the sounds of Alex moving around the bathroom, toweling down, padding around in his bare feet. She wasn’t having much luck.
The bathroom door opened. She had turned off the bedroom light, and he stumbled in the darkness. Something tipped over. He swore softly.
“Are you all right?” she asked. “I’m sorry, I should have left the light on.”
“It’s all right, no harm done.” He said it in his accented voice, reminding her that, even now, they might not be alone. He righted whatever he had knocked down, then crossed to the bed and slid beneath the covers. She went stiff as a board when his body cuddled up to hers and his arm came around her.
“What are you…?”
His whiskery cheek rasped her neck, and she shivered as he whispered into her ear. Such a delicious sensation rippled through her that it was a moment before she realized what he was saying.
“There was a tiny camera in the clock on the bedside stand,” he whispered. Then his lips brushed her neck, and her breath stuttered out of her. “I found it when I knocked the clock over. It was aimed at the bed.”
“Move it, then,” she whispered.
“Did. But there could be others.”
She rolled onto her back, because she couldn’t bear those whiskers on her neck, or those lips brushing her skin and her ear, another moment. But that was a mistake, because now she had to look into his eyes. It was dark, but not pitch-dark. She could see him, could see the way he was staring down at her. He lay on his side, his face only inches from hers. He brushed her hair away from her face with one lazy hand.
She rubbed her cheek against his, feeling the rasp of his whiskers like the most sinful touch she could imagine. Then she reminded herself she was only doing it to get close enough to whisper into his ear, “So just how far do we need to take this charade, Alex?”
“Only from the neck up,” he muttered into her ear, nibbling it a little in the process. “Think you can handle that?”
“I can if you can.” She pulled her cheek across his one last time, then looked into his eyes. They were lying on their sides, facing each other. He slid his arm around her waist and pressed his mouth to hers.
Mel was surprised that he went so far as to actually kiss her. But she was even more surprised by the rush of feeling that shot through her when his warm, soft lips pressed against hers, and she felt her own lips move in some unplanned, almost instinctive response. His arm tightened around her waist, pulling her body closer to his. Her hand slid to the back of his head, fingers in his hair. His mouth was pressing, sliding, against hers, and hers against his. She was never sure whose lips parted first, whose tongue was the first to join in the game. It happened so naturally that she couldn’t determine when the kiss changed from a staged portrayal to a real one. But there was no question that it did. Her body heated, and her heart pounded. She pressed closer to him, and he held her closer still, and their mouths fed from each other. Her hands tangled in his hair to pull him closer, and his hand slid beneath her body, her waist, her buttocks. Oh, no, he was pressing against her, and he was hard, and she could feel him….
Alex suddenly broke the kiss. He was panting. So was she. Their bodies were still melded from chest to thigh, arms still locked around each other. Her eyes wide, searching his, she whispered, “What the hell just happened?”
He pressed a hand to the back of her head, pulled her closer, so her face nestled in the crook of his neck even as he rolled onto his back. “Nothing. It was nothing. Just a kiss.” He was breathless when he said it.
“Yeah, like I’m just a princess.”
“Go to sleep,” he whispered.
“You think I’m going to sleep after that?” Beneath her head, his heart was thumping hard. “I thought you didn’t like me.”
“So did I. Now go to sleep.”
She sighed, snuggled close to him, her head remaining where it was and his arm remaining lightly around her. It was interesting, this new twist things had taken. She lay there wide awake, turning it over in her mind. And over, and over, and over.
Alex lay on his back, feigning sleep, while his brain shot questions like fireworks. He liked Melusine Brand; he had already known that. He liked her honesty. Her lack of pretense. The countless ways in which she differed from the other women he had known. But he wasn’t attracted to her. Okay, he was. A little. To the same degree any straight, relatively sane male would be attracted to a beautiful woman like Mel. But nothing beyond that. Or at least he hadn’t thought so.
Now, though, he was worried.
She lay close to him, her head resting on his shoulder and chest, so that her hair was under his nose and its scent wafted up to him with every breath he took. She was warm in his arms, and so close. He liked the way it felt to hold her.
He tried to recall liking the way it felt to just hold a woman, but he didn’t think it was something he’d experienced before. He told himself he must have. But if he had, he couldn’t recall it to mind now. He could remember enjoying a film with a woman, enjoying a dance, enjoying witty conversation about subjects that interested him. Sex, certainly he always enjoyed sex.
But this…this…cuddling?
She sighed softly and burrowed closer.
Oddly, the other thing he enjoyed most with her was the way she argued with him—her unpolished, straightforward reactions and her talent at bantering.
He didn’t sleep all night. By morning his head ached, probably from the nightlong internal dialogue going on inside it. His back ached from trying so hard to lie still, because God forbid she wake up and move into an even more intimate position.
He didn’t move until she stirred awake. She woke like a kitten, stretching and making little purring sounds. Then her head lifted from his chest, and she blinked sleepily down at him.
But that dopey, sexy, sleepy smile died slowly as she looked into his eyes, and when he said, “Good morning,” her reply was, “Oh, my God, I just figured it out.”
“Just figured what out, Katerina?” He put as much emphasis as he could on the name, to remind her of her role and of those who might be list
ening in.
She narrowed her eyes. “Exactly.” Then she rolled away from him and got out the other side of the bed. Her strides were long, her footfalls angry. And he wondered just what he had done to offend her.
She opened the doors to the walk-in closet and vanished into its depths. When she came out again, muttering, she was carrying a pretty, feminine, mint-green suit by its hanger. She tugged open a dresser drawer and yanked out silky undergarments and nylons. Then she went into the bathroom and slammed the door.
Alex felt as if a tornado had just spun through the room.
Okay, okay, obviously he’d pissed her off. She hadn’t fallen asleep angry, but she had certainly awoken that way. He had to find out why. Not that it mattered in the least or had any bearing on the job they were here to do. But he had to know, nonetheless. And he certainly wasn’t going to find out here.
She couldn’t talk to him here, even if she wanted to.
Maybe she didn’t want to.
Sighing, he got out of bed. Standing up made the headache considerably worse, but he had no choice. He was careful to keep his head down, so as not to reveal his lack of a beard to any prying eyes or lenses, though the room was still dim. There were things to do, arrangements to be made. There was the ball tonight. Good God, the ball. What a fiasco that was going to be. He wondered belatedly if Mel could even dance.
Going to his own closet, he removed a suit, chose a tie. He intended to go to one of the guest rooms to shower and dress, but just as he reached the door, he paused, set the clothes down and returned to the bedroom. The shower was still running in the bathroom. He doubted it would do anything to cool her temper. He knew her temper. If she was angry, she would stay angry until and unless she was given a reason not to be. He didn’t want her angry with him today. It could blow the entire game.
He took a sheet of stationery from the drawer of the writing desk and stood with the pen poised above it for a full minute, before he forcibly swallowed his pride and wrote, “You were right. It wasn’t just a kiss.” He gave a nod, certain it had been that comment of his that must have angered and offended her. Folding the note in two, he left it on the bed.
An hour later he sat at the large breakfast table, waiting for her to put in an appearance. He’d been there twenty minutes already, and he had a dozen things to do, but for some reason he didn’t want to leave until he’d seen her this morning.
When she finally arrived in the breakfast room she was in full Princess Katerina mode. The suit was feminine and yet utterly dignified all at once. Mint-green skirt that came just to the knee, a pearl silk blouse with a lace collar, and a beaded belt knotted at her waist, its long ends dangling. The earrings matched the belt, only tinier. Her makeup was flawless, her hair sprayed even more stiffly than usual. Her shoes matched her blouse, and her smile was frozen in place.
He rose when she came to the table, met her halfway and kissed her hand. “Good morning, love.”
She met his eyes. He searched hers, looking for some sign of her mood. But there was nothing there. No hint of Mel at all. Nothing but Katerina. “Good morning, Thomas.”
She took her seat, and he took his, across from her. He didn’t know if she had found the note, or what she thought about it if she had. He didn’t know if she was still angry. He didn’t know anything. When her mother came out with the silver pot to fill her cup, Mel called her “Vi” and asked how she was this morning. She chattered in that soft cheerful tone, in a pitch higher than her own, and tones that were gentler and more refined, about the weather and the coffee until Alex could have happily strangled her.
Vidalia looked at her, frowning, then shot Alex a questioning glance. Alex could only shrug. He had no idea when or why Mel had decided to embrace her persona so devotedly. He supposed it was a good thing. But he didn’t like it.
“Are you looking forward to the ball tonight?” he asked her, partly because there was a lull in the conversation and partly because he was hoping to see a brief glimpse of Mel behind the Katerina facade.
“I can hardly wait,” she replied, quickly and easily. “Wait until you see my dress.”
Right. Mel Brand excited about a ball gown. He knew better. Exasperated, he pushed away from the table and got to his feet, and crossing the room made a quick call to the driver’s quarters.
“You’re leaving?”
“I have a few errands to run. Will you walk with me to the car, love?”
“Of course.” She got up, too, and walked with him, placing her feet just so, keeping her posture impeccable and her smile ever in place. When they got to the front door and stepped out, she looked around, but the limo wasn’t waiting. “Didn’t you call ahead?”
“I told him to give us a few minutes.” He walked her farther from the house, out into the driveway, into the open. “Now, keep in mind there are surveillance cameras—”
“Aren’t there always?” she asked from behind the fake smile.
“But we can speak freely out here, within reason.”
“About what?”
“About us. About last night, and…and this morning. What did I do to make you so angry?”
“Don’t be silly, darling. Katerina Barde doesn’t get angry.”
“No, but Melusine Brand does—and did. What I want to know is, why?”
She blinked. A tiny ripple in the mask’s perfection. She looked away from him. “It really doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. Were you offended because I kissed you? Or because I stopped?”
Her gaze shot to his again. “You didn’t kiss me at all. You kissed Katerina.”
He frowned, completely confused. “Look, did you even get the note I left?”
“I got it.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
He sighed, looking skyward as if for help. “I apologize for saying it was just a kiss last night, that it didn’t mean anything. It’s obvious there’s something—some…chemistry or something—between us, and it was callous of me to say there wasn’t.” He searched her eyes, but there was no sign she was getting his point. “It’s just that this is no time to be…distracted by it, whatever it was. And beyond that, I was taken by surprise. Weren’t you?”
“I was. Until I realized that you were right. It was nothing. There is no ‘chemistry,’ as you call it, between you and me.” She turned away.
He caught her shoulder, turned her back to face him. “No? Then what was that last night?”
“I thought you just said this was no time to be distracted by it?”
“Oh, come on, Mel. At least tell me what you think happened last night.”
She shrugged delicately. “I haven’t got a clue. That was between you and Katerina. I had nothing to do with it.”
“Huh?”
The limo came creeping along the drive, so they had to move out of its way. The window came down slowly. “You ready, boss?” Wes called.
Alex held up a hand for patience. “Mel, you’ve got to tell me what you’re getting at here. Call me dense, but you’re not making any sense.”
“Fine, I’ll explain it to you very quickly and very simply. I am not Katerina Barde. I am not a woman who dresses the way I’m dressed or speaks the way I’m speaking. I don’t have manners or breeding, and I detest tact. It’s a cop-out. I don’t like makeup or high heels or hair spray. None of this is who I am. You know that. You’ve been around me before, and you never felt the slightest inclination to kiss me then. The person you feel attracted to is make-believe. She’s not real. And even if she were, she’s certainly not me.”
She turned on her heel and walked back into the house.
His head reeling, Alex got into the limo and closed the door.
Wes looked at him in the rearview mirror. “You look like you’ve been hit between the eyes with a mallet.”
“Feel like it, too.”
“Mel?”
“Yes.” He glanced up, startled.
“Don’t worry,” Wes said. �
�I had them sweep the car just before I pulled it out of the garage this morning. It’s clean.”
“You’re not bad at this cloak-and-dagger stuff, for a cowboy,” Alex said.
“My brother’s a lawman. You pick it up.” He drove to the gates, which opened, and the limo rolled through them. “So Mel’s pissed at you, I take it?”
“She’s pretty angry.”
“What did you do?”
“I, uh, I kissed her.”
“Oh. Did she like it?”
“I thought so at the time.”
“Hmm. Women. Who the hell can figure them out?”
“I wish to God I knew.”
“Hey, we could call in reinforcements. My baby sister, Jessi, would probably be able to interpret it over the phone, for Pete’s sake.”
“No.” Alex wondered why he had even spoken to Wes Brand about any of this. “We aren’t going to risk a mission this important over your irrational cousin’s latest tantrum.”
Wes nodded slowly. “Well, then you might want to try talking to Selene or Kara. But not Vidalia. Good God, if she knew you’d kissed her daughter and then spent the night in the same bedroom, she’d like to skin you alive.”
“It’s difficult speaking freely in the house.”
“Then get out of the house,” Wes suggested.
It was, Alex thought, a good suggestion. Not the talking to Mel’s sisters part, but the part about getting out of the house. Maybe Mel just needed a break.
Wes drove Alex Stone to the Federal Building, then waited an hour to drive him back to the pretentious mansion again. He hadn’t quite gotten a handle on the fellow yet. At first he hadn’t expected to like him at all. But then something had struck him as clear and familiar, easily recognizable to Wes, who’d seen it often before. The man had a core in him that was solid. He was honest. And he was determined to protect Mel from any harm. Those were qualities you couldn’t fake. Not to the discerning eyes of a Brand, anyway. He knew a man when he met one, and the more time he spent with Alex Stone, the more convinced Wes was that he was just that. A man.
A man who was rapidly falling for a Brand woman. That wasn’t something Wes thought would be pleasant, or easy, for any man. Even one as decent as Stone.
Secrets and Lies Page 7
