Suddenly, there was a sparkle of light deep in the trees, then another.
"What was that?" Cara asked, realizing that it
had come from a point near the front security gates.
"A flash. Some fool is trying to take flash pictures from hundreds of yards away."
Which meant there were at least a dozen other journalists who weren't so foolish, filming them even now with telephoto lenses or night vision.
She wrapped her arms around her and shivered despite the warmth of the evening. "Surely they know that we're married now. Isn't their story over?"
"The story won't be over until we settle into a dull predictable routine. I'd guess they're waiting around to see if the marriage appears to be a happy one or to document any unpleasantness that might occur after such a hasty match. Then there's the matter of the children. They're hoping to get shots of the reunion as well as their everyday play."
The mere thought of all those prying eyes made Cara feel suddenly weary. "I wish they would go away."
"They will. Eventually. Once they've discovered that they are wasting their time peering at a normal, mundane family."
Normal family. Right. A normal family who lived in a castle complete with married strangers and two sets of identical twins who were switched at birth.
'I've been through media storms before," Ross continued on. "It's best to ignore the reporters, let them get their pictures and their facts. We might even issue a press release or conduct a short interview with one of the more trusted national affiliates. When that's through, our lives will be our own."
So why didn't Cara believe him? Why didn't she think that the press would give up so quickly? Was it because she had her own doubts about the solidity of their marriage of convenience?
Stop it. You've only been Ross's wife for a few hours. You can't start doubting yet.
Suddenly, Cara was filled with an anger at the reporters who waited like vultures on the other side of the security wall. She was angry at their willingness to provide the world with sensational news—news that came at Cara's expense, and her children's.
44 Why don't we give them something to report about," she said lowly, turning to Ross.
44 What?"
It was clear his mind had already moved on to other things, but Cara didn't let that dissuade her. Her hands slid up his chest and hooked around his neck, pulling him toward her.
"They want pictures, so let's give them pictures." Then she was pressing her lips to Ross's.
Ross's surprise lasted only a minute. Then his own arms slid around her waist and drew her against him, tightly, completely—so much so that she felt as if they were two halves to a whole.
But if they had thought to offer a performance for the media, their own desire soon swamped anything but the need to touch, to caress, to kiss. With a moan, Ross's mouth opened, and their kisses grew immediately hungry and wild as they strained against one another.
Ross's arms slid low beneath her hips, lifting her against him. Gasping for breath, she arched her head back, but Ross wasn't dissuaded. Instead, he began to string kisses down the sensitive column of her neck to the hollow at the base of her throat.
She gasped when a molten heat pooled in her belly. No man had ever inspired such an instantaneous passion in her. Ross had only to touch her and she was on fire. It wasn't fair. No man should have such power over her. She should have the will to resist him.
But you don't want to resist, her conscience whispered—and it was true. In Ross's embrace, she felt like a whole woman, one who was desirable, powerful, and needed.
Needed. Elliot had never made her feel needed. She'd been a living prop to him, not a wife. As she bent to kiss Ross again, she realized that de-
spite their unconventional marriage, she felt more of a part of this man's life than she ever had with Elliot
In one smooth movement, Ross bent and slid his arms beneath Cara's knees. Then he was carrying her into the house and shutting the door with his shoulder.
A part of her knew that her defenses were weakening. But she couldn't seem to remember why she should resist him. Not when her body was on fire and her pulse raced. She supposed that she should have more pride, that she should stick up for herself and her insistence on a platonic relationship. But at this point, she didn't care. She merely wanted the madness to continue.
Ross shifted her in his arms, setting her feet on the ground. With his hands on either side of her, he kissed her deeply, intimately, his body straining against hers. Then, just as suddenly, he broke away.
It took several moments for Cara to realize that it wasn't Ross who held her upright, but the thick carved panels of the door. Rather than being held in Ross's embrace, she was alone. He stood several yards away from her, his back turned in her direction.
4 'That should give them something to splash on
their front covers," he muttered breathing hard, his voice hoarse.
Cara bit her lip, infinitely hurt. Was that all the embrace had been to him? A means to fight back at the media?
No. There had to be more to it than that.
But then again, why should she think that Ross had felt anything more than a burst of passion? After all, it had been her idea that they kiss for the media, not his. For all she knew, he hadn't wanted to kiss her at all. Could she really blame him now if he'd had enough?
Yes. Because I want him to feel more. I want him to feel as completely swept away as I was.
Shame filled her soul when Cara acknowledged to herself that if Ross had continued to carry her up the carved staircase to one of the bedrooms above, she wouldn't have offered an argument. She would have willingly made love to him, thereby breaking her own vow to keep their relationship purely a matter of convenience.
Was she really that desperate? Was she really that hungry for companionship that she would jump into bed with the first man who made such overtures?
But with a sinking heart, she was forced to admit that not just any man would do. In the space of little more than a week, she had grown to care for
Ross Gifford. So much so that even now she shied away from labeling the depth of her need.
"I'm going to my room now," she stated softly.
Then, before she lost what shreds of pride she still gripped and begged him to come with her, she ran upstairs and shut herself inside her bedroom.
Alone.
Ross waited unttl he'd heard her door snap closed before allowing the breath he'd been holding to ease from his lungs.
She only had to touch him and he was on fire.
Ross raked his fingers through his hair and slowly made his way to the kitchen. Once there, he took a cold container of bottled water from the inner doorway and placed it against his forehead.
But even the icy condensation against his skin couldn't make him forget the velvety texture of Cara's flesh against his, the silken heat of her mouth.
Dear sweet heaven, was he so out of control of his own urges that he would force himself on a woman who had insisted on a platonic relationship? Had he so quickly forgotten that she wouldn't have touched him at all if it hadn't been for the media watching them from afar? Cara had merely wanted to establish their "compatibility"
for the reporters and he had held on to her as if they were...
Married?
Air. He needed some air.
Slamming the bottle down on the counter, Ross made his way onto the rear deck. But even the cool kiss of the evening breeze couldn't erase the scent of Cara's perfume from his mind, the delicious touch of her fingers at his back.
What was it about this woman? What part of her personality had the ability to completely swamp his common sense? Time and time again, he'd reiterated to himself that theirs was to be a business-like arrangement. She would help him with the children and the household responsibilities, and he would...
He would what? What was he contributing to the bargain? What benefits was Cara gaining from the relationship? The security of her rol
e as the children's mother, surely, but what more was he willing to offer her?
Willing? Why had he used that particular word?
Shame gripped at his stomach.
Because he didn't know how much he could invest in the arrangement. Cara was more than welcome to his money, his home and every other financial enticement he could offer—but she'd already made it clear that she wasn't overly inter-
156 Twins Times Two!
ested in such things. So that left Ross with what he was willing to give her emotionally.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he feared that he couldn't offer her enough. Friendship, yes. A certain fondness, yes. Passion, definitely. But anything more than that...
No.
As much as he might want it to be otherwise, he didn't have anything more than that left to give.
Chapter Ten
After their "intimate wedding night," Cara couldn't wait to retrieve the children. She wanted to hug Heidi and Zoe close and to revel in the sound of their laughter. She wanted to reassure herself that they had enjoyed their evening with Polly. Then she wanted to get to know Becca and Brianne.
Cara took a deep breath, realizing that only a few months ago she had been a single woman intent on the growing demands of the Mom Squad. She'd allowed little else to occupy her time or her thoughts. And now...
Now she was Ross Gifford's wife and the mother of four.
How did it all happen so quickly?
Shaking her head, Cara refused to think about her sudden marriage. She'd already spent a sleep-
less night worrying and fretting about the whole affair. It was time she shifted her attention to the children. She'd married to provide a better life for all of the girls, and it was time she concentrated solely on them.
But even after reminding herself of that fact, Cara had a hard time convincing herself her motives were entirely selfless. Where only the day before she had been looking forward to the moment when the two sets of twins were reunited, in order to see how the girls would react, now Cara longed to have them nearby to help break the tension that was growing between Ross and her.
Nevertheless, as she handed Ross the keys to the Mom Squad van and slid into the passenger seat, she couldn't help feeling a quiver of unease.
She had no idea what was going to happen in the next few hours. Although she had tried to prepare Heidi and Zoe for this moment by telling them that Ross had a pair of twins "just like them" and had shown them pictures of Becca and Brianne, she didn't think they'd quite understood. Instead they'd pointed to the pictures time and time again claiming the images as their own.
"This is going to be so confusing for them," Cara whispered, raking her fingers through her hair. Then she paused when she caught Ross looking at her. In that instant she thought she saw a hot
glow of awareness ignite in his dark eyes. But before she could say anything, he had shifted his gaze and she was left to wonder if the desire she'd seen had merely been a reflection of her own.
"Both Polly and Mrs. Graves have been talking to them about the meeting ahead."
"I know, but it might have been better if..."
"If you were the one to do it?"
"Well...yes."
"You're not the only one having such doubts, Cara. But sometimes it's better to get the truth from a source other than our parents."
She grimaced. "I was hoping the girls would reach puberty before they stopped believing what I tell them. It seems that day will come much sooner than I'd expected."
"Children are born cynical these days."
Cara had to bite her tongue to keep from retorting, "Not mine."
Ross expertly maneuvered the Lexus out of the garage. "I suppose I'll be buying a minivan," he said.
"Oh, really? Why?"
He cast her a quick glance "We won't all fit in the sedan."
Too late, Cara realized that they were now a family of six— six! So why did she still think of herself as the mother of two? Why couldn't she
seem to make her brain come to terms with the fact that she had married this man for better or worse and accepted the responsibility of becoming the mother to his children?
At least until he tired of her like Elliot had done.
Resolutely she pushed that thought aside. Ross wasn't Elliot. Just because her former husband had been unfaithful didn't mean that Ross was likely to do the same.
So why wasn't she totally convinced? Why couldn't she come to terms with the fact that she had committed to making this relationship work?
Probably because it didn't feel like a relationship. It didn't even seem real. Only a few days had passed, and her world had been shaken to its very core. She was only now beginning to come to terms with the fact that she had gone to extreme lengths to protect her position in her children's lives.
And she'd become an instant mother to another set of twins in the process.
What have I done?
"Smile and wave."
"What?"
She'd been so deep in her thoughts, she barely heard Ross's comment.
"Smile and wave. We're about to reach the gates and our gauntlet of media personnel."
She'd forgotten about them—although, how she'd managed to forget she wasn't sure.
"Pretend you're the queen," Ross advised, already pasting a wide smile on his face.
Even though Cara knew his smile was false, the effect on Ross's features was devastating. For the first time since she'd known him, his features lost their somber cast, and the planes and angles softened.
So this was what he must have looked like before Nancy died.
And he could look this way again if he abandoned his grief.
Cara didn't know why, but the thought brought a measure of peace to her battered spirit, and she felt suddenly lighthearted.
"I'll do one better than the queen," she said as they came to the last bend before the gatehouse.
Ross had already pushed the automatic opener. With the security guards holding the reporters back, it was evident that he intended to rush through.
"Slow down just a little."
1 'Are you nuts?'' Ross asked, giving her a sideways glance.
"No. Slow down, but don't stop." She shivered. "I'm willing to yank their chains a bit, but I don't want the tables reversed."
As Ross tapped on the brakes, she lowered her window and leaned her head out, offering her best Princess Grace wave.
"Sweeties, you must be hot and famished waiting out here. Take it from me, we're happy," she called as Ross took the corner. Turning around, she beamed back at the group, calling, "Blissfully, blissfully happy!"
She was laughing as she rolled the window up and settled into her seat again.
Ross's lips twitched, then lifted into a wry grimace. "You're laying things on a bit thick, don't you think?"
"Not at all. Let them believe what they like. Heaven only knows they'll print what they like."
"True enough." Ross glanced into the mirror and swore. "Unfortunately, your little performance has been like scattering kibble to the hounds."
"What do you mean?"
"A few of them are giving chase."
She looked behind her, then hurriedly pinned a smile on her face. "I can't believe this is happen-ing.
1 'I think they sense that something is up. Maybe they've guessed that we're heading for the children."
"And there's nothing they would like to film more than a shot of the sisters being reunited." She
groaned, sinking down in her seat as far as her safety belt would allow.
Ross patted her knee. "Relax. They probably would have followed us anyway. Hold on."
In a heartbeat Ross made a right turn and another left. Soon he was driving with the finesse of a London cabby—quick turns, doubling back, driving down back alleys and surging onto the Interstate.
"It's working," Cara said in delight as she watched the stream of vehicles beginning to lessen.
"What time are we supposed to be at the park?
"
"Polly is bringing Heidi and Zoe to the park at noon, and Melba is bringing Becca and Brianne at quarter past."
A glance at the clock assured Cara that they were well ahead of schedule, despite their mad dash through the greater Salt Lake area.
Finally, after exiting the freeway, then circling around to catch the next on-ramp, Ross offered a triumphant cry. "That's the last of them."
The Mom Squad van wove in and out of cars, and Cara found herself studying his hands. He had long, slender fingers. Artist's fingers. Surgeon's fingers. A shiver of anticipation skittered up her spine. What would it be like to be caressed by those fingers? How long would she have to wait?
Cara all but gasped at the thought. What had
come over her? When had she begun to think of making love to this man as a matter of course? Something that wouldn't happen in a matter of months or years but...
Days?
She took a deep breath to clear her head. Think of the children... the children...
"Nervous?" Ross asked.
Cara focused on the way her fingers were twisting the hem of her shirt in her lap and she immediately laced her fingers together. "I don't know how the girls are going to react. It will be shocking for them at the very least. I can't even imagine what it would be like to see someone who looked exactly like me."
1 'The psychologist told us to treat things as low-key as possible, then let the children explore the situation as they would any other curiosity. Dr. Egstrom will be there to help smooth things over."
She gripped her hands together until her knuckles turned white. Could she help it if she was a nervous person? A worrier? Would she forever be on her guard in case Ross read her thoughts? Or would she finally trust him enough to reveal her true feelings?
"It sounds so easy in theory, but in fact..."
Ross reached over to take her hands, shaking them until she loosened her grip. "We'll take
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