Alex obviously wanted her. Letter to Reader Title Page About the Author Dedication Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Teaser chapter Copyright

Alex obviously wanted her.

He hadn’t gone out of his way to hide his desire for her. Or his distrust. A distrust he had every reason to feel. She silently cursed Damon for putting her in this position, but she was as much to blame for perpetuating the lie.

She gazed into his eyes. She was free to tell him the truth and then they could move on with their relationship. Why did she hold back?

She would only be here until the end of the week. Did she really want to get in any deeper? Could she stop herself? If her feelings for him were purely physical, she could deal with an affair. But her emotions were becoming involved. Alex touched her in a place no one else had been able to reach before.

Her heart.

And it frightened her more than she cared to admit.

Dear Reader,

Hectic life? Too much to do, too little time? Well, Silhouette Desire provides you with the perfect emotional getaway with this month’s moving stories of men and women finding love and passion. So relax, pick up a Desire novel and let yourself escape, with six wonderful, involving, totally absorbing romances.

Ultratalented author Mary Lynn Baxter kicks off November with her sultry Western style in Slow Talkin’Texan, the story of a MAN OF THE MONTH whose strong desires collide with an independent lady—she’s silk to his denim, lace to his leather... and doing all she can to resist this irresistible tycoon. A smalltown lawman who rescues a “lost” beauty might just find his own Christmas bride in Jennifer Greene’s heartwarming Her Holiday Secret. Ladies, watch closely as a Thirty-Day Fiancé is transformed into a forever husband in Leanne Banks’s third book in THE RULEBREAKERS miniseries.

Don’t dare miss the intensity of an innocent wife trying to seduce her honor-bound husband in The Oldest Living Married Virgin, the latest in Maureen Child’s spectacular miniseries THE BACHELOR BATTALION. And when a gorgeous exmarine shows up at his old flame’s ranch to round up the “wife who got away,” he discovers a daughter he never knew in The Re-Enlisted Groom by Amy J. Fetzer. The Forbidden Bride-to-Be may be off-limits...but isn’t that what makes the beautiful heroine in Kathryn Taylor’s scandal-filled novel all the more tempting?

This November, Silhouette Desire is the place to live, love and lose yourself...to sensual romance. Enjoy!

Warm regards,

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

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The Forbidden Bride-To-Be

Kathryn Taylor

www.millsandboon.co.uk

KATHRYN TAYLOR

has a passion for romance novels that began in her late teens and left her with an itch to discover the world. After living in places as culturally diverse as Athens, Greece, and Cairo, Egypt (where she met and married her own romantic hero), she returned to the States, and she and her husband settled in the quiet village of Warwick, New York. Kathryn says, “Although my writing allows my mind to soar in the clouds, I have an energetic eleven-year-old who keeps my feet planted on the ground.”

For my critique partner, Karen,

to whom I owe an enormous debt of gratitude

Prologue

A light wind rustled the black lace curtains at the door, causing the candles to flicker. Sophie Anders adjusted the shawl on her shoulders. Golden threads shimmered in the candlelight. The heavy scent of sandalwood incense tickled her nostrils and she had to stifle a sneeze.

The carousel’s Wurlitzer organ piped out a hauntingly familiar song on the midway. She raked a handful of curls back from her face and smiled at the handsome man sitting in the folding chair across from her. “Why do you want to introduce me to your family as your fiancée? We’re not even dating.”

Damon Winston grinned sheepishly. “The family is nagging me about getting married, so I sort of told them I had a fiancée.”

She glanced down at her white peasant blouse and red swirling skirt. “And I’m the best you could come up with? They’ll never buy it.”

“Actually, you’re the worst I could come up with, and I don’t want them to buy it. I want them to oppose it.”

“Why, thank you.” She punched his shoulder in mock exasperation.

“You know I didn’t mean that as an insult. To my family, a nonconformist is someone who wears white after Labor Day. You would be an alien being.”

Sophie knew better than to be insulted. She had worked for Damon while in college, and their friendship had begun in part due to their mutual enjoyment of taunting each other. She credited their enduring relationship to the fact that she had never gotten romantically involved with him.

“Why don’t you just tell them you don’t want to get married? I, for one, would vouch for your poor character—fidelity not being one of your strongest suits.”

“Come on, Sophie. I’ve never asked you for anything.”

“What about all those double shifts you had me pull at the restaurant?”

Damon gave her one of those charming smiles that usually had the ladies falling at his feet. “Besides that.”

“How about the time you set me up on a blind date with your college pal, Octopus Man?”

“After 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. Damon was planning to get married? That remained to be seen. His brother enjoyed his freedom too much to settle down without major incentive. Was his intended a wealthy socialite? Or was something else behind his decision to marry a woman he’d never mentioned before last week? Alex had been curious enough to come home and find out.

As he started down the hall, he saw a familiarlooking woman enter the library. He withdrew into the shadows. A knot formed in his stomach. He could have sworn he’d stepped into the past. What was going on?

Convinced that the lighting had played tricks on him, he continued down the hall. The faint sound of music floated on the air. Three suitcases at the foot of the stairs let him know Damon and his guest had arrived.

The soft strains of Bizet’s Carmen became louder as he reached the archway that led to the library. A pair of red leather pumps had been discarded just inside the room. Beneath the bay window a woman swayed enticingly to the violin music. A small cassette player was hooked to a wide black belt that emphasized her narrow waist, and a kelly green skirt swirled around long shapely legs. Her mane of dark curls lifted as she swung her head in a circular motion. This time the tightening in his body occurred several inches lower than his stomach.

Her seductive dance picked up with the tempo. She spun across the highly polished floors as if aware of every piece of furniture even though her eyes were closed. He was drawn to her face. Again he noticed distinct similarities. Only this woman lacked any inhibition, unlike Marie.

Marie. He hadn’t thought of her in years. What cruel plan did Damon have in mind this time? Alex refused to believe that this woman’s resemblance to his ex-fiancée was mere coincidence.

He heard a gasp. A pair of startled green eyes locked on him a split second before she slammed full force into him. Instinctively he grabbed her waist as he stumbled backward into the wall.

For a stunned moment he could neither think nor feel. Slowly his senses returned. Short, panting breaths caressed his neck, wreaking havoc with his hormones. The scent of strawberry engulfed him. Her full round breasts brushed over his chest as she fumbled with the off button of her cassette player. He was sure she felt him grow hard.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered.

“No harm.” In fact, he enjoyed the feeling of her snuggled against him a little too much.

“How long have you been here?”

He laughed. “Long enough to catch the show.”

Her embarrassed moan reverberated against his chest. As she shook her head, her silky hair brushed over his cheek. “Leather.”

“Excuse me?”

“You smell like leather.”

“Sorry.” He dropped his hands from her waist

She took a step back and smiled. “Don’t apologize. It’s a nice scent.” She smoothed her clothes, then extended her hand. “You must be Alex. Damon has told me so much about you.”

Was it his imagination, or had she winced at her words? “He mentioned nothing about you,” he said as he enclosed her delicate hand in his. He felt her tremble slightly.

“Oh, well, I’m Sophie.” A healthy blush covered her cheeks. She smoothed the mass of ringlets that surrounded her face like a halo. “Damon went to the stables to look for you.”

“He missed me.”

“Apparently.”

During the long pause that followed, he stared at her, but she remained steady under his gaze. Damn, she was beautiful.

“Nice place you have here.”

“You think so?”

“Not really.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “Oh, jeez, I did it again.”

Alex grinned at her honesty. “The Sanctuary takes some getting used to.”

He had alternately loved and hated the place at different times in his life. But if Damon planned to install her at the house, Alex would limit the amount of time he spent at the estate. His physical awareness of his brother’s fiancée was inappropriate.

“Why would I have to get used to it?”

“Forgive me. I was under the impression that you’re engaged to my brother.”

Confusion flashed in her eyes. “But this is your house, not Damon’s.”

She didn’t know much about the man she was supposedly marrying. “It’s his house, too.” At least until Alex agreed to sell, something he’d been reluctant to do to the dismay of his family.

The front door crashed open.

Sophie jumped back. She slipped her feet into her shoes and tried to restore order to her clothes. Did she look as guilty as she felt? she wondered. Despite any outward appearance of calm, her insides churned with a multitude of confusing emotions.

Never before had she experienced such an intense reaction to a man. The scent of saddle soap, so utterly masculine and earthy, still lingered. Not only had she literally thrown herself into his arms, she hadn’t wanted him to let go. Nice behavior from a supposedly engaged woman!

Damon strode into the library. He came up behind her and slid his hands over her waist. She should have expected him to show a display of affection in his brother’s presence, but she couldn’t stop herself from twisting away.

“She’s a bit shy,” Damon explained as he tugged her back to his side.

“Funny,” Alex said. “I didn’t get that impression.”

Sophie felt the blood rush to her cheeks again. As first impressions went, she had certainly given Alex something to think about. She didn’t usually dance for an audience.

“Then I guess the two of you had enough time to get acquainted in my absence,” Damon said.

“Oh, yes.” Alex’s half smile sent a surge of heat through her.

She’d certainly had enough time to become acquainted with the hard lines and solid planes of his body. A bit of information she would be wise to forget as soon as possible. She would have to talk to Damon about shortening the length of their stay to a few days. Undoubtedly, she would have made a bad enough impression on his upper-class family by then to achieve his goal.

She should have heeded the warning she’d read in the tarot cards last week. Even her mother had voiced concern via a rare long-distance phone call yesterday. There was no such thing as a little white lie. And now, she was in too far to back out.

“So, what do you think?” Damon asked Alex. “Isn’t she gorgeous?”

She twisted her fingers together. “He needs glasses.”

“There’s nothing wrong with his eyesight,” Alex said, his gaze never leaving her face.

Damon stroked his finger along her jaw. “Would you like to see your room, babe?”

“Yes, please.” Sophie needed to put some distance between herself and Damon’s all-too-curious brother. She understood the need for Damon’s possessive gestures. After all, he wanted to convince the family they planned to wed. But under Alex’s scrutiny, she couldn’t repress the sense of guilt that made her want to blurt out the truth.

Did Alex notice her lack of response to her fiancée?

“Which room did Mother have prepared?” Damon asked.

“The guest room in the east wing.” Alex arched an eyebrow in amusement. “Unless you want her in your room.”

“No!” she said too sharply. She glanced at Damon for help, but he offered none. “I wouldn’t insult your mother by sharing a room before we’re married.”

“Let me get you settled.” As Damon took her arm and led her away, she heard Alex’s hearty chuckle mocking her.

On the walk to the room she expected Damon to explode with anger at her stiff and unemotional responses. He never did. Instead, he strode up the stairs and down the hall looking very pleased with himself. Only when they entered the bedroom did he say anything at all.

“So, what do you think?”

“The room is beautiful.” The polished antique furniture left the faint scent of lemon in the air. The bedspread and drapes, in shades of teal and peacock blue, were the most elegant she had ever seen. She sat on the tapestry-covered window seat and glanced outside. From the second-floor vantage point the woods beyond the stone wall were visible.

“Not the room. What did you think of Alex?”

She turned to face him. “I think he suspects there is something odd about our relationship.”

“Besides that?”

“He was polite.” Considering she had sent him flying into a wall, he had been downright gracious.

Damon sat on the sleigh bed and tucked a pillow behind his head. “That’s all?”

She also happened to think Alex was incredibly sexy in his flannel shirt and jeans, not at all the three-piece-suit type she had been expecting. He had a body to die for, thick eyelashes she would kill for, and warm brown eyes that sent her pulse racing.

And her entire purpose for being here was to make a lousy impression on this man.

Damon waved his hand. “Sophie?”

She blinked and met his amused gaze. “What else do you want? I’m only supposed to have eyes for you, honey.”

“He couldn’t stop staring at you.”

“I was standing right in front of him.”

“You were blushing.”

She sprung to her feet. “What’s going on? Are you trying to set me up with your brother?”

“Of course not,” he protested.

“Good. Then we probably won’t need to stay the entire week.”

“Anxious to leave already?”

“You know us Gypsies. We need to wander.”

“We have to stay the week. Really make them worry about our marriage. They’ll be so relieved when I dump you that they’ll stop interfering in my business.”

“How come you get to dump me? Maybe I don’t want you.”

He grinned and rose to his feet. “You can tell our friends anything you want to save face.”

“Get lost.”

He reached for the door handle. “By the way...if you should get a case of wanderlust during the night, be careful. Alex has the room next to yours and you share a bathroom.”

“What?”

“This wing of the house was originally designed for the master and mistress of the estate.” He blew her a kiss and sprinted away.

She dropped down on the bed and sighed. Was Damon trying to play matchmaker? If so, why had he told his family they were engaged? Certainly no brother would intentionally make a play for the other’s fiancée. No, Damon must have something else in mind, but she wasn’t going to discover what until he was good and ready to tell her.

Alex clicked on the computer and dialed into the office. Although he trusted his manager with the daily running of the company, he wanted to check over the orders for the day—

Nice try, but he wasn’t buying his own excuses. He wanted something to take his mind off the sultry beauty who had invaded his home and his thoughts.

He would bet the family business that there was no intimate relationship between Sophie and Damon. She couldn’t even pretend to like his touch. What were they up to, and was his stepmother, Elaine, also in on the plan? With six empty bedrooms in the house, why had she chosen to put Sophie in the one next to his, while Elaine and Damon took residence in the opposite wing?

Alex smiled. It wasn’t Christmas, although he wouldn’t mind unwrapping Sophie under a tree.

He tried to focus on the figures on the computer screen, but he couldn’t concentrate. The image of Sophie dancing across the floor as if she were making love to the music, left him with a consuming ache. A kind of hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time. If she was brought here to seduce him, she had made one hell of a good start. But to what end?

“I thought you were on vacation.” Damon strode into the library and flopped down in a chair.

Alex kept his gaze on the screen. “I didn’t close the company down.”

“Business good?”

“Yeah.” He logged off and leaned back in his seat. “So when’s the big day?”

‘What big day?”

“Your wedding.”

“Oh,” Damon mumbled. “Sophie hasn’t set a date yet.”

Alex laughed. “Smart girl.”

“You don’t believe I’ll go through with it.”

“I never gave it a thought either way,” he lied smoothly.

“So, what do you think? Does she remind you of anyone?”

Although Alex’s first glimpse had brought back old memories, Sophie affected him in a way no other woman ever had. On second thought, there hadn’t been much of a resemblance at all. Whereas his ex had been a cool, regal beauty, Sophie was the personification of wild passion. “Should she?”

“Don’t you think she looks like Marie?”

He feigned bewilderment. “Who?”

“Your ex-fiancée.”

“You mean your ex-lover.”

“Still holding that against me?” Damon gave him a wounded frown that he pulled off with such practiced ease. “Isn’t five years a bit long to be carrying a grudge?”

Alex shrugged as if he couldn’t care less. He was grateful he’d found out before the wedding instead of after. Last he heard, his faithless ex was on her third marriage. “You brought her name up, not me.”

“You’re right. Besides, Sophie is nothing like Marie.”

“You mean she’s not trying to figure out how much you’re worth in alimony before the wedding?”

Damon laughed. “Cheap shot—but true. Marie was a cold bitch.” He seemed to have conveniently forgotten his own part in that fiasco.

“Why don’t you save yourself the trouble and tell me what this visit is really about?”

“I wanted Sophie to meet my family. Nothing more.”

Alex noted that his brother hadn’t mentioned any words of love, or even lust. Lord knew, he could sympathize with that. “All right. Play it your way. So, what does she do?”

“She’s a graphic artist by trade. Freelance, mostly. But if you’re nice to her, you might get her to tell your fortune. She has a real gift for seeing into the future.”

“Is that right?” Alex wouldn’t mind a peek into the future. Say, one week from today to see what this charade was really about. “I might just ask her.”

“She’s got real Gypsy blood in her.”

A grin pulled at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t doubt that. She does make quite an impression.” An impression that affected him physically whenever he remembered their encounter.

“So you don’t mind if we settle here after the wedding?”

“You’ll have to run that past Elaine. Two queens in one castle could make for strained living conditions. Are you sure your little Gypsy will want to live with her mother-in-law?”

“What about you?” Damon’s question held a trace of challenge. He was apparently searching for something he could exploit to his benefit.

Alex curled his fingers around a crystal paperweight and tapped it against the oak desk. “It’s a big house. I’ll adjust when I’m around.”

“Of course, I’d prefer to give my wife her own house, but I can’t while my money is tied up in this one.”

He had wondered how long it would take before Damon brought up the subject. “Your track record with money hasn’t been a winning one. You might thank me one day for keeping a roof over your head. Especially if you have a wife to take care of.”

“Don’t you think it’s time you stop trying to protect me from myself? The restaurant was a good investment. I just got in too deep.”

Alex refrained from reminding his brother that living way above his means would always get him in too deep. Six years earlier, he had bought out Damon’s and Elaine’s shares of the company, and neither one had a dime left of their substantial inheritance. Alex would have given in to pressure to sell the estate, too, only he’d promised his father he would look out for his stepfamily. Problem was, they didn’t want his help. They wanted unconditional access to his money.

“You come talk to me after the wedding and we’ll discuss this again.”

Damon slumped forward in the chair. “Why wait? You always said you’d sell when one of us got married.”

“And I will, when you’re married. Call it my wedding present to the two of you.” Alex was relatively sure his brother wouldn’t be collecting on the gift. But if he was wrong...? He wasn’t ready to contemplate the answer.

Two

Sophie slowly opened her eyes. Disoriented, she stared for a few groggy seconds before she realized the white tile ceiling was not her own. After stretching the last of the sleep from her body, she slid her legs over the edge of the bed. How long had she been asleep? A glance out the window gave her the answer. The flaming sun hovered just above the horizon. The long car ride must have wiped her out. It had to be close to eight o’clock.

Why hadn’t Damon called her for dinner?

She shed her wrinkled clothes in favor of a pair of black jeans and pale yellow blouse and ran a brush through her hair. She hoped her absence from dinner hadn’t been taken as an insult.

As she stepped into the hall, she was surprised by the quiet. No music or sounds of television. Not even the drifting hums of conversation could be heard. Where was everybody? The clack of her sandals echoed off the high walls. As she descended the stairs, she repressed the urge to hop on the solid oak banister and ride to the bottom.

The only signs of life seemed to be coming from the kitchen. She entered the room to find the butler and an older woman enjoying a cup of coffee. They both rose quickly to their feet.

“I’m sorry,” Sophie stammered. “I guess I missed dinner.”

“Master Damon said you weren’t to be disturbed,” the butler said. “I’ll have Cook bring a plate to the dining room for you.”

It was bad enough she had rudely slept through her hosts’ evening meal, she wasn’t about to have the staff go out of their way on her behalf. “I’m not hungry. Where is Damon?”

“He went to the club with his mother for a while. Master Alexander is around somewhere. Would you like me to find him?” Such formality seemed more suited to a feudal system. Did the family always demand such propriety?

“No. I’ll just grab an apple or two and take a walk around.”

“As you like, miss.”

“Sophie,” she corrected.

She swiped two Granny Smiths from the counter and slipped out the back door. The air, clean and fresh from the earlier rain, cooled her skin. She leaned against the stone facade of the house and ate one of the tart apples to relieve the growling in her stomach. Her hunger sated, she began exploring the well-manicured grounds.

Red and white rosebushes ran the outside perimeter of the house. She stroked her fingers over the velvety petals and inhaled the floral scent. Such beauty hidden from the rest of the world, she thought.

The deep purple sky silhouetted a stable and paddock in the distance. She sprinted down the driveway, past the six-car garage and along the worn path to the open door. The wooden building smelled of hay, manure and saddle soap, reminding her of the caravan days of childhood she had spent with her mother. An odd sensation, like a low-voltage shock, ran though her as she stepped inside.

Brass lanterns lit the interior with muted light. The horses shifted nervously at the entrance of a stranger. A chestnut bay poked his nose out of the stall.

“Hello there, fellow.” She stroked the hair at his forehead. He snorted and bit the apple out of her hand that rested on top of the gate. “Hey, you big thief. That was my dinner.”

He nudged her shoulder.

“Too late, you beggar. I ate the other one.”

She raised to her toes and the animal nuzzled its head against her shoulder. “So, what do you do for fun around here? I know. Not much you can do when you’re closed in by four walls. I quite understand how you feel.”

She scooted down the concrete center aisle to the next stall. “Hey, girl. Don’t be shy.” She extended her hand and waited for the Appaloosa to come to her. The horse’s eyes looked sad and lonely.

“So, what’s your problem?” Sophie glanced toward the bay, then back. “Your boyfriend? Just a friend, you say. You have your eye on the Arabian stud?” She sighed. “Stay away from the wild ones. They’ll break your heart every time.”

The animal’s ears perked up and she tapped her hoof several times.

“Feeling restless? Why don’t I open all the gates and we’ll make a run for it?”

“You’ll never clear the wall.”

At the sound of Alex’s deep voice, Sophie’s breath caught in her throat. She wiped her hands along her jeans and turned to face him. He was leaning against the wall behind her, his arms folded casually over the wide expanse of his chest. A blatantly sexual grin lifted the corners of his mouth.

“Master Alexander. Please except my humble apologies for missing dinner this evening.”

He let out a hearty chuckle. “An apology’s not necessary, and call me Alex. I’ve been trying to stop William for the past twenty-five years, but he insists on the formal title.”

“Okay. Alex.”

A long silence followed. A few sentences with the man and she had run out of conversation. Her body, on the other hand, had just begun to state its case. Her pulse beat a little faster, her stomach fluttered, and a warm tingling sensation washed over her.

Her conscience warned her to tell him the truth, but she remained silent. The money Damon would donate to the youth center was one reason, but not the only one. This intense and irrational attraction left her confused, an emotion that led to foolish mistakes. She needed the protection her sham engagement afforded her until she figured out how to control the carnal impulses Alex’s nearness inspired.

A shove to her back sent her stumbling forward. She steadied herself by grabbing onto Alex’s shoulders. His hands came up to encircle her waist.

“What the heck...” She glanced back to see the Appaloosa shaking her head.

“Now, now, Delilah. She’s Damon’s woman. No matchmaking.”

“Is that what she’s doing?” The animal had good aim—and even better instincts, Sophie decided.

She held on to Alex longer than necessary. While her mind willed her to step back to regain her senses, her body begged her to stay put, surrounded by warmth, protected by strength.

Reason prevailed and she wriggled out of his arms. “Sorry.”

“So, you want to make a break from this place already?” He reached into his vest pocket for a sugar cube and offered it to Delilah.

Sophie stood next to him and scratched the animal behind the ear. “I was just making conversation with them.”

“Do you ride?”

“Yes.”

“English or Western?”

“Bareback, mostly.”

“Really?” He couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice.

“Really.”

“You’re welcome to ride while you’re here.”

“I’d like to.” Sophie smiled at him and Alex was stunned by the way his body reacted to the genuine excitement he saw in her flushed face. “Maybe I’ll get Damon to take me.”

The mention of his brother deflated some of the air from his ego. “He doesn’t ride. But don’t let that stop you.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Alex swallowed a chuckle. He would guess the lady did as she pleased. Not for the first time, he wondered why she had chosen to involve herself with Damon. “I wonder if my brother knows what he’s gotten himself into.”

“He should. I’ve known him for four years. We have an understanding.”

He arched his eyebrow. “What kind of understanding?”

“Obviously not the kind you’re thinking of.” She rolled her eyes. “We have different interests that we pursue separately.”

“That would explain why he’s at the country club playing racquetball while you’re here trying to incite a rebellion among my horses.”

Her soft exhale of laughter caressed his cheek. “I couldn’t interest them. They must like living with walls.”

“Which, I gather, you don’t?”

“I don’t have to, do I?”

“My brother seems to think you’re going to settle here after the wedding.” Her guilty expression was telling. He suspected that she and Damon hadn’t synchronized their stories.

She shrugged and raked a handful of curls from her face. “Actually, we didn’t discuss it. We haven’t had time to figure out our future yet.”

Nice recovery. She wouldn’t have to worry now if they contradicted each other. The woman was bright. He would have an easier time tripping up Damon. Something shady was going on and Alex meant to find out what before his conniving brother did any damage. Any more damage, he mentally corrected.

“Come on. I’ll take you up to the house so you can get something to eat. Samson ate your apple.”

“Samson and Delilah. That’s cute. What are the other two called?”

“Windancer,” he said, pointing to a jet-black Arabian. “And...Elvis.”

“Elvis,” she cried out, sending a sympathetic smile to the gelding. “Oh, the indignity of it all. No wonder he’s so shy.” Dramatic sighs and theatrical gestures punctuated her words.

“He was already named when I got him.”

“Poor thing.” She locked her fingers together behind her back and walked alongside Alex to the house. Darkness had descended and a starry landscape sparkled above.

“So, how did you and Damon meet?” he asked to break the silence.

“I worked for him at the restaurant while I was going to school. We remained good friends after he sold the place.”

Sold the place. Is that what Damon had told her? Alex opened the back door and waited for her to enter. “Have a seat. I’ll get you something—”

“No need.”

“Cook already made the plate. I’m just going to stick it in the microwave.”

“Yum. Radioactive food,” she muttered, and lowered herself into a chair at the drop-leaf table.

Alex put the covered plate in the oven and thanks to modern technology, served her a hot meal in mere minutes. After pouring two glasses of wine, he joined her at the table. “Go ahead. Eat.”

Sophie nodded her thanks and enthusiastically dug in. She polished off the veal and sautéed potatoes with a fervor that nearly rivaled her dancing. In his experience, most women became falsely modest when eating in front of a man. Sophie became downright sexy. Did she devote the same passion to every aspect of her life?

Alex swallowed a grunt. Thoughts like that would land him in trouble. “Damon tells me you have Gypsy blood.”

She put down her fork and knife. “Yes. And we’re notorious thieves, so you better hide the family silver.”

He thought perhaps he had insulted her, but when she glanced up, her eyes shone with mischievous humor. “I’m not worried. So, will you look into your crystal ball and tell me my future?”

“I don’t use a crystal ball, and I can’t see the future. But I sometimes get strong impressions about people.”

He leaned closer until his shoulder brushed hers. “What about me?”

She smiled and took his hand. Her sensual touch, as she stroked her thumb over his palm and wrist, sent his pulse racing. She inched closer until her leg made contact with his. Her delicate eyebrow raised in a perplexed arch. “I’m getting something.”

“What?”

During the long pause, she stared at him. She ran her tongue nervously over her full lips, leaving a glistening shine. He swallowed hard. She continued to caress his calloused flesh, sending jolting electrodes through his entire being. He shifted in the wooden chair to relieve the tightening in his groin.

Suddenly she dropped his hand, looking startled and gasping for breath. Her round emerald eyes, hypnotic, exotic and blatantly erotic, held him spellbound.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m getting a really strong impression...” She paused, and inhaled deeply. Her gaze locked with his. “That you’re patronizing me.”

He blinked slowly and let out a groan. Perhaps he had been humoring her, but she had paid him back with interest. She’d had him so mesmerized, she could have told him aliens were attacking and he would have believed her.

“All right. Let’s talk about something else.”

She lifted her wineglass toward him in a salute, then took a sip. “Should we play twenty questions?”

“How else will I get to know my future sister-in-law?”

“When do we get to the part about how I’m totally wrong for Damon?”

“I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t?”

He believed Damon was wrong for her. Damon hadn’t grown up yet. And Alex wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if his brother had used his charm to convince Sophie to go through with the marriage just to get him to sell the house.

“I’m looking forward to your wedding.” He managed to say the words without gagging. “When are you going to set a date?”

Absently, she chewed her bottom lip and toyed with the gold chain around her neck. “Ah...um...”

“In this millennium or the next?”

“I’m only twenty-six. My biological clock isn’t ticking away. Besides, I haven’t even met his mother yet. She might want some input on the time and place.”

Alex tipped his head. “I’m sure Elaine will have something to say.”

“Is that a warning?”

“No.” He took a gulp of his wine.

“Damon said she’s anxious for grandchildren.”

Alex nearly choked. He slapped his hand to his chest. “Excuse me. Swallowed wrong.”

Elaine was about as anxious to be a grandmother as she was to get another wrinkle on her surgically lifted face. She didn’t even like to admit to having a thirty-year-old son.

Sophie collected her dishes from the table and loaded them into the dishwasher. “Thanks for dinner. I guess Damon and his mom will be late. I’m going to turn in.”

Alex rose and walked her to the staircase. Since she had spent most of the afternoon sleeping, he figured she wanted to avoid him. Apparently his comments and questions were in contrast to what Damon had told her. Why would his brother lie to his fiancée? Or, more important, to his accomplice?

“Good night,” she called over her shoulder as she ascended the stairs.

Once she reached the top landing, Sophie darted down the hall to her room. Damn Damon and the awkward position he had put her in! She let out a groan. Face it, Sophie. You’re the one who’s pretending to be somebody you’re not.

Perhaps a look into the cards would help, she decided, as she reached for the silk pouch on the dresser. She untied the ribbon and removed her tarot cards. Her mother had presented her with the deck on her eighteenth birthday. A piece of her past to guide her future. While she absently shuffled, she tried to formulate a question in her mind.

Do I have reason to worry about my actions?

She sat cross-legged on the bed and dealt out ten cards in a semicircle. Each of the first nine cards represented the influence going on around her and the last, her answer. She flipped over the first one and let out a nervous laugh. The Four of Wands. An interlude with a man. She didn’t need the tarot to tell her that. What kind of interlude? Next, she turned the Ten of Cups, upside down, which symbolized a betrayal. Damon? Or Alex? The cards weren’t clear.

The Two of Wands, meant to indicate her fears, pointed to the lord of the manor. A chill ran along her spine. Alex was definitely at the root of her fears, but she didn’t know why. Having a serious case of the hots for a man wasn’t lethal as long as she kept her head clear.

The rest of the reading wasn’t any more encouraging than the beginning. The cards predicted an upheaval in her entire way of life. The sooner she left The Sanctuary, the better.

A sharp knock on her door gave Sophie a start. She scooped the deck back into a neat pile. “It’s open,” she called out.

Damon sauntered inside. “Hey, Soph, you finally rose from the dead.”

She shot him an icy glare. “With no help from you. Why didn’t you wake me for dinner?”

He eyed her as if she was crazy. “I’ve called you in the morning. I know what you’re like when you wake up.”

“Okay. That’s fair,” she grumbled. “So, did you speak with your mother?”

He leaned against the rolltop desk and grinned. “She’s not happy. Kept trying to introduce me to suitable girls from the club, but I told her it was you or no one.”

“Good.” She slipped off the bed and took a seat by the window. “Because your brother doesn’t seem all that opposed to this marriage.”

“Stepbrother,” Damon corrected.

“Funny. Alex never makes that distinction.”

“He might say he doesn’t care, but give him a few days. He’ll change his tune. He won’t be able to resist the opportunity to blow something he thinks I want.”

She raised her head. “And you plan to convince him you couldn’t live without me by leaving me alone and going off to the club on your first night here?”

“Are you mad at me? I thought you hated places like that.”

“I do. And I’m not mad. I’m just questioning your methods. He already suspects something’s not right.”

“Even better. He’ll think you’re after my money.”

“Oh, great.” she let out on a frustrated exhale of breath. “Being unorthodox isn’t enough. I have to be a social-climbing weirdo. I thought I wouldn’t mind, but I don’t like lying.” At least, not to Alex.

“Let me ease your conscience.” He dropped to one knee. “Sophie Anders, will you marry me? There, I proposed. Now you’re not lying.”

“And you’d bolt like lightning if I said yes.”

He chuckled. “After I stopped laughing. You want to get married even less than I do. That’s one of the main reasons I asked you to help me.”

“That, and I’m the strangest person you know.”

“True.” He stood up and brushed the wrinkles from his designer jeans. “Who else would spend her vacation traveling with a carnival?”

“I was visiting my mother,” she corrected with a defiant lift of her chin.

“And reading tarot cards on the side,” he reminded her.

She waved an accusing finger at him. “It paid better than you did.”

“I give up.” He paced around the room. “So, what did you do while I was out?”

“Visited the stables.”

“Passed the time with Alex, huh?”

She drew her brows together. “Why would you say that?”

“He’s always with those horses when he’s home. I’m surprised he doesn’t sleep in a stall.” Damon grimaced in distaste. “So, what did you talk about?”

“Check your ego. We talked more about the horses than we did about you.” She nestled herself into the window seat and gazed at the glittering sky. At night, when she couldn’t see the wall, the place didn’t seem so bad. “Alex said I was welcome to ride while I was here.”

“Good. Then I don’t feel so bad that I signed up for a racquetball tournament at the club for the next couple of days.”

“You wouldn’t have felt bad anyway.”

“You’re right.” He gave her a boyish grin, then saluted as he left the room. She didn’t return the smile.

Strange. The very qualities she had once admired in Damon weren’t quite so endearing anymore. He could be funny, charming—the life of any party. As long as he got what he wanted and didn’t have to give of himself in return. More unsettling was the realization that she could easily become like him if she continued with her current life-style.

Three

Sophie hovered just outside the dining room door. The aroma of cinnamon hung in the air. She had been awake for nearly three hours, waiting for Damon and his mother to get up. She understood that the family was on vacation, but sleeping in until almost noon blew the best part of the day. Taking a deep breath for courage, she entered the room. The conversation came to an abrupt end.

Damon smiled and rose. “Mother, this is Sophie.”

Sophie glanced at Elaine Sinclair. Not a platinum hair was out of place. Her makeup, applied to perfection, and her tailored suit gave the impression of a much younger woman than Sophie had expected. Where was the matronly housewife who longed for grandchildren that Damon had described?

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Sophie offered her hand to the older woman.

“I’m sure.” Elaine barely made contact before withdrawing her fingers. She gave a disinterested glance at Sophie’s appearance.

Her outfit—a pair of denim shorts, a white halter top and a sweatshirt tied around her waist—had seemed appropriate vacation wear when she’d dressed. Who knew that breakfast attire was formal at The Sanctuary? Even Damon had worn a silk shirt and tie. Tucking her bare feet beneath her, she settled into a Windsor chair next to Damon. The maid served a cup of tea and left a small basket of croissants in front of her plate. She picked off the edge of the flaky bread and popped it in her mouth.

“Where are your people from?” Elaine asked casually, but there was nothing casual about the icy glare she shot Sophie.

Sophie brushed the hair off her shoulder. “Originally or currently?”

“Currently.”

“My mother is somewhere around Kansas right now. She’s...on tour.”

“An actress?” Elaine grumbled with obvious distaste.

“No. A fortune-teller with the Vitabel Traveling Carnival.”

“And your father?”

Sophie looked to Damon for assistance. Instead of helping, he leaned back in his seat and sipped his espresso. He seemed to enjoy his mother’s grilling. “I never met my father.”

“I see. And do you travel with the circus, too?”

“Carnival,” Sophie corrected. “And I did move with my mother when I was a child, until the courts said she had to enroll me in school. Then we moved to New York with my grandmother.”

“A sideshow performer, too, I presume?”

Sophie had never felt embarrassed about her family and Elaine Sinclair’s snobbish airs wouldn’t change that.

“What is this? The Spanish Inquisition?” The familiar deep voice sent a tingle along her spine.

Elaine tensed as Alex strode into the room. “Alex, dear. I thought you were in the stables.”

“I came in for lunch, but apparently you’re still on breakfast.” Dressed all in black, he radiated pure masculine sexuality. “Good morning, Sophie. Damon.”

Sophie waved. “How’s Elvis this morning?”

He chuckled. “Going through an identity crisis. You shouldn’t have laughed at his name. He’s got some attitude today.”

“I’ll talk to him.”

“Thanks, but you’ve done enough.”

She grinned sheepishly and took a sip of tea. She credited the warmth spreading through her to the hot liquid rather than Alex’s smile.

Elaine drummed her fingernails against the table. “What time are we leaving for the club, Damon?”

“About an hour.” He cupped his fingers possessively over Sophie’s arm. “You coming, honey?”

She shook her head. “Only if you tranquilize me first”

“A few hours with the horses will put you to sleep.”

“Ten minutes of watching you prance around a racquetball court will do it, too,” she teased back, wrinkling her nose.

“She loves me,” Damon announced with a laugh. “Come on, babe, I need to talk to you before I leave.”

Sophie was happy to comply. She needed to get out of the cross fire and regroup. Why had Damon allowed his brother to come to her defense rather than standing up for her himself? Did he really think his mother would be fooled by their supposed engagement when he showed her no more affection and concern than he would show the butler? Digging her fingernails into the arm he offered her, she followed Damon out of the room.

Alex lowered his head and watched a delicate pair of bare feet with red toenails pass by him. He struggled against the urge to examine the rest of Sophie’s body as she left the room. The more often he saw her, the harder he had to fight the attraction he felt. Listening to his stepmother question Sophie in her judgmental and demeaning way had brought out his protective instinct. Seeing Sophie, head held high and unruffled by the verbal snipes, he realized she neither wanted nor needed his help.

Elaine pushed back her plate and folded her linen napkin. “Well?”

Alex poured a mug of coffee and grabbed a piece of toast. “Well, what?”

“You can’t possibly mean to let Damon marry that woman.”

“Since when have I had any influence with him?”

“She’s totally inappropriate.”

He leaned against the wall. “I think she’s perfect for him.” Despite his own feelings he managed to keep a straight face. He didn’t want Sophie for a sister-in-law. He just plain wanted her. And he instinctively knew that his brother had known he would.

Elaine’s jaw sagged. “What?”

“Sure. One of those country-club debutantes would bore him inside a week and bankrupt what little he has left in a month.”

“And you think Gypsy Woman isn’t after his money?”

“If that’s the case, she’ll be gone as soon as she realizes he doesn’t have any.”

“Alex, are you telling me you won’t do anything about this engagement?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“You’ll be here. Spend some time with her. See what she’s up to.”

He was more interested in what his family was up to. Damon couldn’t bother sticking around to entertain his own flancée. Elaine might as well have asked Alex to seduce Sophie. Why?

Why not? The thought brought a smile to his lips.

“Alex, he’ll ruin his life and marry her just to get you to sell the house. Have you thought about that?”

“Yes. And I’m sure he has, too.” He grabbed another slice of toast on his way out.

How far was his family willing to go in their endeavors to get him to sell the estate? This wouldn’t be the first time Damon had enlisted the aid of a beautiful woman in his quest. However, if this was another scam, he’d make damn sure it was the last one.

Sophie entered the stall slowly with her hand held out. “Come on, Elvis. I’ll call you the King if you come out. No saddle. I promise.” She coaxed the horse forward and slipped the bridle over his head. “That’s not so bad.”

She walked him out of the stable. After tossing her backpack on her shoulder, she used the paddock fence as a leg up onto Elvis’s broad back. A click of her tongue and pressure from her legs started the animal moving, but he stopped short a moment later when Alex drew up alongside.

“Where are you going?” His biceps rippled as he stroked the horse’s head. Streaks of gold highlighted his tawny brown hair.

“The King and I are going for a stroll. Is that all right?”

“I said you were welcome to ride, but wouldn’t you rather I went with you until you know your way around?”

She waved her hand at the panoramic view before her. “It’s hard to get lost in a fortress.”

“I thought you might want to explore beyond the wall.”

Although she would be wise to keep her distance from Alex, the temptation to go AWOL was more than she could refuse. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“I’m going anyway,” he said with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders.

She let out an exaggerated sigh. Despite his nonchalant air, she wondered if he had already decided to go to keep an eye on her. “Well, gee, control your enthusiasm.”

“This is as excited as I get about anything.”

She bit her lower lip to prevent a full-blown laugh from erupting. Was that ever a challenge, her overactive hormones wanted to answer. What would it take to make him lose control?

Shaking her head, she exhaled slowly. She would never know. Not while he believed her to be involved with his brother. And if he learned the truth? He would probably trust her even less.

Alex grabbed a saddle and tack. “Give me five minutes.”

She nodded and urged Elvis toward the driveway.

Alex joined her moments later. Sitting astride Windancer like a legendary Western outlaw, he was the sexiest man she’d ever seen. A comfortable silence settled between them as they rode side by side toward the main entrance. The farther they got from the house, the lighter she felt. Was it the estate that made her feel so oppressed—or her own guilt?

Once they cleared the gate, Sophie looked back over her shoulder at the high wall with cameras mounted on each side.

“My father was paranoid about security,” Alex said.

“Considering your past, it’s understandable.” She cursed the words the second she uttered them.

He sat ramrod straight in the saddle. His jaw clenched and his eyes flashed with anger. “Damon told you.”

She bowed her head. “Yes. And he expressly told me not to say anything. But, as usual, my mouth was engaged before my brain was in gear.”

“A frequent occurrence with you, I’ve noticed.” He stared at her for a long moment, then smiled, revealing two beautiful dimples. “I prefer unguarded honesty to a well-rehearsed lie.”

Her stomach muscles tightened. No matter how quickly he’d recovered, she had still touched on a raw nerve. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a state secret. You can pick up an old newspaper and find stories about the incident.”

“I don’t dig into other people’s pasts. Mine isn’t a Norman Rockwell portrait.”

“As long as Damon doesn’t mind...”

She pretended not to hear. Her relationship with Damon was not a subject she wished to discuss. Alex already had his doubts. Why add to his suspicions by proving how little she knew about her fiancé?

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