The Groom's Stand-In. GINA WILKINS
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don’t have to worry about that.” Donovan hadn’t forgotten for one moment that Chloe planned to marry his boss.
“I guess I’d better break it to Chloe that I won’t be there tonight.”
“She’s in her room, unpacking. I’ll get her for you.”
“Thanks, D.C. I owe you for this.”
“You sure do,” Donovan muttered, setting the receiver on the counter. “Big time.”
She really should have listened to her sister.
Wearing a green satin nightgown and a matching robe, Chloe stood outside on the balcony of the dauntingly elegant guest room. It was a beautiful night—clear, mild, gilded by a bright, nearly full moon—but chilly. Her breath hung in front of her as she leaned against the railing and gazed somberly at the landscape of mysteriously shadowed hills and the glittering lake in the distance. It was a night made for romance and intrigue.
Yet she was spending it alone, wishing she was back in her simple Little Rock apartment.
Grace had warned her that this was a bad idea. She had predicted from the beginning that it wouldn’t work out the way Chloe hoped. Little could she have known just how right she would be.
From the moment Bryan had gracefully and effusively apologized for standing her up this evening, Chloe had sensed the plans she’d made disintegrating around her. Or maybe it had all started crumbling even before that—maybe when she’d walked into her living room and found Donovan Chance and her sister glaring at each other.
She wanted to believe she would feel differently now if Bryan had been available to pick her up at her apartment and drive her here himself. If he had been the one to spend the day with her, to dine with her, to bid her goodnight. Instead, she found herself trying to summon a clear mental picture of him. For some strange reason, his image kept metamorphosing in her mind—his thick, glossy black hair and brilliant blue eyes changing to rebellious chestnut-brown strands and metallic-green eyes.
It was obvious that she kept thinking of Donovan because she’d spent so much time with him today. It certainly wasn’t anything more than that; she couldn’t even say that she liked the man very much. It had been all she could do to make conversation with him during dinner, since he still showed that irritating tendency to answer with a monosyllable any time he could.
The main problem was that at this point, she couldn’t say that she particularly wanted to be with Bryan, either, no matter how much more articulate and entertaining he could be than his friend.
She sighed.
“Dreaming of anyone in particular?” a gravelly voice drawled from somewhere beneath her, making her start.
Her heart pounding, she peered tentatively over the balcony. “Donovan?”
On the ground below her, a figure stepped out of the shadows of a bushy tree and into the range of a motion-triggered security light. The resulting yellowish illumination exaggerated the angles and planes of Donovan’s firmly carved face, making him appear even more a stranger than he had before. He’d changed from his conservative clothing into a black pullover and black jeans, and he looked very much at home in the darkness.
“What are you doing down there?” She hadn’t even realized he was outside, having assumed he was asleep in one of the other bedrooms.
“Just patrolling the grounds.”
“So security guard is also on your job description?”
She wasn’t surprised when he responded with one of his laconic shrugs, then changed the subject. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Leaning her arms against the railing, she looked down at him. “I guess I wasn’t as tired as I thought I was.”
After a slight pause, he asked, “Want to come outside for a walk?”
“Thanks, but entertaining me isn’t on your job description.”
“Actually, it is. I promised Bryan I’d make sure you aren’t bored until he gets here.”
Because he made her sound like a cranky toddler he was endeavoring to humor, she replied a bit coolly. “I’m not at all bored.”
Bryan had commented often on his second-in-command’s commitment; when Donovan Chance took on an assignment, he gave it his full attention. Apparently, he considered her his latest assignment. He was grimly determined to keep her entertained until he could hand her over to his employer. A depressing thought, she discovered, though she didn’t care to analyze why.
“I believe I’ll turn in now,” she said, taking a step back from the rail. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He nodded. “Call out if you need anything.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine.” She couldn’t imagine any reason she would be calling for Donovan Chance during the night.
A shiver went through her as she reentered her bedroom and locked the balcony door. It felt strangely like a premonition—which only reinforced her belief that she was stressed-out about being here at all.
She really should have listened to her sister.
Chapter Three
Donovan didn’t require much sleep, but he managed even less than usual during that night. He kept being awakened by the nagging feeling that something was wrong. Or that there was something he should be doing. Because his instincts were so often right, he’d tested all the locks—twice—and he’d patrolled the grounds. He could find nothing wrong, nothing pressing he needed to attend to before morning.
He had to assume he was simply overreacting to the unusual situation he found himself in that evening.
He would be glad when Bryan arrived and he could turn Chloe Pennington over to him—or at least, he should be glad. After spending several hours with Chloe, he could understand what had attracted Bryan to her. Had she not already been claimed by his best friend, Donovan might have considered making a move on her, but since Bryan was involved, that, of course, was a line he would never cross.
As for this marriage plan…he still couldn’t approve. While he wasn’t quite as certain now that Chloe was only after Bryan’s money, he still doubted that she had any deep feelings for his friend. There had been some warmth in her voice when she’d talked about Bryan during dinner, but it was almost as if she’d been speaking of a distant acquaintance that she rather liked, rather than someone who should be far more important to her.
He didn’t know what her motives were, exactly—whether they were money, security or social connections—but he would bet Chloe wasn’t planning to marry Bryan for love. And while Bryan might insist that he wasn’t looking for that sort of bond—just as Donovan wasn’t interested in falling under some romantic spell—it still seemed that there should be something more to a marriage than amiable companionship.
Shifting restlessly in the bed he usually occupied during his frequent stays here, Donovan told himself he really should mind his own business when it came to Bryan’s matrimonial plans. What did he know about marriage, anyway? His own parents had probably considered themselves in love when they married, and that had been a disaster. Bryan’s parents could hardly stand each other, but they were still together, apparently content with the arrangement they’d come to during the past forty years.
If Bryan wanted the same sort of cool, convenient alliance, who was he to interfere, even if Bryan would allow him to do so?
Donovan rolled over again in the bed, telling himself to go to sleep and stop fretting about things that were beyond his control. And then he found himself remembering the sight of Chloe standing on that balcony in the moonlight, wearing her floaty nightclothes and looking pretty enough to make a man almost forget how to think.
Donovan was not in a good mood.
Chloe didn’t know