The Forbidden Bride-To-Be. Kathryn Taylor
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one date with you, he decided to be a priest.”
“Or the time you asked me to pick you up at the airport and left me waiting two hours because you had made a short detour with one of the stewardesses.”
“Okay. I get the point. But this is absolutely the last favor I will ever ask of you. No one will get hurt.”
Sophie lowered her head. Some Gypsies would think her crazy for hesitating. Running scams might be part of Romany heritage, but not a part her family had cultivated. “I don’t know, Damon. I’d planned to work the carnival over my vacation. The youth center needs money for art supplies....”
He groaned in frustration. “How many times have I told you, you won’t get rich by working for free?”
“I didn’t get rich working for you, either,” she jokingly shot back. “That’s why I’m selfemployed.”
Damon had never understood why she volunteered her time teaching art classes at the youth center. She received so much more than she gave those kids. Wealth had different meanings for different people. To him, the measure would always be monetary.
He lifted the tarot card and turned it facedown on the table. “Are the paying customers really fooled by this Gypsy act you put on.”
“The carnival is for charity. And it’s not an act. I’ll admit that I don’t have the talent my mother does, but I get really strong impressions about people.”
“I’ll make a deal with you. Do this for me and I’ll donate two thousand dollars to the center.”
Her eyes widened. “Two thousand dollars?” Although her first instinct was to decline the offer, she thought about all the things the center could do with the money and she found her resolve wavering. What harm could there be in playing the part of an unsuitable fiancée for a few days?
“And you’d get an exciting, fun-filled vacation, all expenses paid to beautiful Fairfield, Connecticut.”
The evening sky crackled with heat lightning. Was it a sign she should go, or a warning to stay away? Get a grip, Sophie. It was a quirk of nature. “There is no such thing as a free ride, Damon.”
He twisted his fingers together until his knuckles cracked. “Jeez. You sound like Alex.”
“Who’s Alex?”
“My stepbrother.”
That Damon had never mentioned a stepbrother in the four years she had known him should have been enough to send up the alarm bells. “I don’t know....”
He arched his eyebrow. “You’ll be doing it for charity.”
“All right,” she found herself saying despite her misgivings. Gooseflesh covered her skin. She glanced down at the intersecting lines on her palm. Was this the crossroad her mother had predicted in her future?
One
Sophie gaped at the walled fortress. The stone watchtower at the entrance added to her growing apprehension. A brass plate near the wrought-iron gate read The Sanctuary, and beyond the iron bars the massive house loomed in the distance. What had she gotten herself into?
Droplets of rain blurred the windshield. How fitting, she thought. The gray fog, nearly obscuring the gables, lent a haunting ambience to the entire scene before her.
She turned toward Damon. His lips curved upward in what she could only describe as a sneer. He locked his fingers in a death grip over the steering wheel of the Porsche. She barely recognized him as the same unflappable man who breezed though life on his charming smile.
“It ain’t much, but it’s home,” he muttered sarcastically. Obviously The Sanctuary wasn’t a haven to him.
As she returned her gaze to the sprawling estate, she realized just how little she knew about Damon. Not enough to decipher his true motives for this charade. His anxiety didn’t jive with a man who only wanted his well-meaning, if interfering, family off his case about marriage.
“Tell me a little about your family.”
His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”
“We’re supposed to be engaged. Shouldn’t I know a little about your life?” He’d never mentioned growing up on an estate the size of a convention center. What else had he left out?
He paused in thought, then shrugged. “You’re right, of course. My mother is a typical mother. She wants me married off to a nice girl so I can give her a pack of grandchildren.”
“And your brother?”
“Stepbrother,” he corrected with a slight edge to his voice. He inhaled deeply and relaxed in the bucket seat. “Alex is...intense. He was kidnapped when he was young, and his father paid a fortune to get him back. But don’t mention it. He never talks about the incident.”
Although stories of kidnapping were romanticized among the Gypsies, she could only imagine the scars an incident like that left behind. Again, she wondered why Damon had never mentioned his stepbrother.
“Are the two of you close?”
“Not exactly.” He jammed the car into gear and drove up the long driveway. Clearly anything else she wanted to ask would have to wait.
They were met at the foot of the flagstone steps by a butler. He opened her door, then strode around the car to open Damon’s door.
“Welcome home, Master Damon. I hope you had a good trip.” The man’s formality forced Sophie to swallow a laugh.
“Thank you, William.” Damon took her arm and led her through the misty rain into the house.
Her heels clicked against the marble floor of the large foyer. A crystal chandelier that suspended from the cathedral ceiling shimmered brightly. Feeling hopelessly out of place, she smoothed her ruffled skirt. Now she understood how her ancestors felt when they’d been summoned to the castles of Europe to provide entertainment for the nobility.
“Why didn’t you warn me?” she muttered angrily.
“I didn’t want you to come rehearsed, ready to play a part.”
“Isn’t that what I’m doing?”
“Yes. But I wanted the estate to take you by surprise. No preconceived notions.”
Apparently there was more to Damon’s scheme than he’d led her to believe. He was playing with her, too, and she wasn’t up to his kind of games. She had agreed to act as his fiancée as long as the small deception hurt no one.
William joined them, preventing her from further questioning. “I’ll have the bags taken to your rooms. Your mother is at the club. She’ll be back for dinner.”
“And Alex?” Damon asked.
“At the stables, I believe.”
“I better go tell him I’m here. Make yourself at home.” Damon placed an obligatory kiss on her cheek. “The living room is down the hall to the right and the library to the left. If you get lost, don’t worry. It will only take a search party a few hours to find you in this place.”
She plastered on a smile and pretended to be amused. “Hurry back, dear.”
Left on her own, Sophie made a slow pirouette to survey the foyer again. So opulent, so elegant, so sterile. The sheer size of the place might give the illusion of space, but she felt as restricted as if she had been locked in a closet. Would she be able to survive an entire week?
Alexander Sinclair kicked the dirt from his boot and stepped into the kitchen. He glanced at his watch. Lunch would have to wait if he wanted to shower and change before his brother arrived. He grabbed an apple from the counter and bit into the crunchy fruit.
If nothing else, his vacation would be interesting this year.