The Groom's Stand-In. GINA WILKINS

the week she would be spending with the man who had been courting her so persistently. Did she really think it didn’t matter how she spoke to Bryan’s closest associate, as long as she behaved properly in front of Bryan himself?

      Because he’d long since appointed himself Bryan’s protector, he spoke sharply, “Look, if that’s the way you really feel about this, let’s just forget it. Bryan doesn’t have time for a vacation now, anyway, especially with someone who would rather be elsewhere. And to be honest, I have plenty more important things to do than babysit a…”

      “Grace? I saw Mrs. Callahan in the laundry room, and she asked me to tell you…” The woman who had entered the room, wearing khaki slacks and a mint-green sweater and carrying a load of folded laundry in a round plastic basket, came to an abrupt stop when she saw Donovan standing in the open doorway. “Oh,” she said, looking suddenly flustered. “You must be Donovan Chance. You’re early.”

      Donovan wasn’t usually caught completely off guard, but it took him a moment to respond. “Actually, I’m exactly on time.”

      The woman set the laundry basket on the couch and approached the door. “I’m so sorry. My watch must have stopped again. It’s been doing that lately.”

      Though their appearance was almost identical—the only difference being that this woman wore her brown hair slightly longer and straighter—the newcomer’s voice was warmer than the one who had opened the door to him, her expression friendlier. “Grace, haven’t you even invited Mr. Chance inside?”

      “Actually, I had almost convinced him to leave without you.” Her face resigned, Grace stepped out of Donovan’s way.

      Sighing, Chloe stepped forward to extend her hand in Donovan’s direction. “I’m sorry if my sister was rude. Perhaps we should start from the beginning. I’m Chloe Pennington, and it’s very nice to meet you, Mr. Chance. Bryan has often spoken of you.”

      Donovan remembered now that Bryan had mentioned that Chloe owned a business with her sister. He had neglected to add that the sisters were identical twins. Donovan would have to discuss that with his friend later.

      He shook Chloe’s hand briefly. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Pennington,” he said, because etiquette demanded it of him.

      “Please call me Chloe. And you’ve already met my sister, Grace.”

      Meeting Grace’s glittering hazel eyes, Donovan nodded. “Yes, I’ve had that pleasure.”

      She flashed him a challenging smile.

      Looking suspiciously from one to the other, Chloe shook her head. “Now I’m even more convinced that an apology for my sister’s behavior must be in order.”

      Turning his back on Grace, Donovan looked at Chloe—the woman Bryan had chosen, he reminded himself. “Are you ready to leave?”

      Chloe glanced at her watch, shook her wrist, then slipped it off and tossed it to her sister. “See if you can have that repaired while I’m gone, will you?”

      Catching it easily, Grace replied, “You could always stay and see to it yourself.”

      “Don’t start with me again.” Chloe picked up the laundry basket and turned toward the doorway that led to the back of the apartment. “Five minutes,” she promised Donovan. “Make yourself comfortable in the meantime.”

      He nodded, watching Grace a bit warily out of the corner of his eye.

      Maybe Chloe sensed his uneasiness. “Grace, why don’t you come help me get everything ready,” she said, and her tone made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion. “I’m sure Mr. Chance won’t mind waiting by himself for a few minutes.”

      “Not at all,” he assured her.

      Grace crossed her arms over her chest. “You can handle everything in there. I’ll keep Falcon’s chauffeur company.”

      Donovan was going to let it pass, but Chloe spoke sharply on his behalf. “Mr. Chance isn’t a chauffeur, he’s an executive in Bryan’s company. He’s doing Bryan a big favor by giving me a lift today because Bryan was detained in New York.”

      “An executive. Is that what they’re calling errand boys these days?”

      “Grace!”

      Holding up a hand toward Chloe, Donovan focused on her sister. “You might as well get it off your chest. What other insults would you like to throw at me before I leave?”

      He was a bit surprised to see her blush. She kept her chin high, defiance overcoming embarrassment. “I suppose I should apologize for the things I’ve said to you. You’re only doing your job, I guess. It’s my sister who needs some sense knocked into her.”

      “You don’t approve of the engagement?”

      “Bryan and I aren’t engaged,” Chloe said quickly. “We’re still in the preliminary stage of our relationship. That’s why we’re taking some private time at his vacation home this week—to discuss the future in private. We were both disturbed when the press got wind of our friendship and started dropping hints about a possible marriage.”

      Grace whirled toward Donovan. “Do you approve of this ridiculous arrangement?”

      He shrugged. No way, of course, was he going to admit that he agreed with Grace Pennington—about anything. “It’s none of my business.”

      “So you are just an employee and not a real friend of Bryan Falcon.”

      His eyes narrowed at that. “Bryan Falcon is the best friend I’ve ever had. But I don’t tell him how to run his personal life.”

      Which didn’t mean he wouldn’t give his opinion when asked, of course. And if Bryan asked him, Donovan was going to suggest that his friend think a lot longer before making himself a part of this family.

      “I wish you would teach that trick to my sister,” Chloe said. “Not getting involved in other people’s business, I mean.”

      Donovan doubted that there was anything Grace Pennington would be willing to learn from him. “We’d better get going,” he said to Chloe, looking pointedly at his own efficiently accurate watch.

      “I’ll hurry,” she replied. “Come on, Grace.”

      With a show of reluctance, Grace followed her twin from the room, leaving Donovan to exhale slowly and wonder what on earth Bryan had gotten the two of them into this time.

      Strapped into a luxuriously soft and comfortable leather seat, Chloe looked through her lashes at the man behind the wheel of the expensive sedan. The passing scenery was lovely. Though it was a bit chilly due to a midnight rainstorm the night before, the past couple of weeks had been quite warm, coaxing new leaves from trees and bringing out daffodils, Bradford pear blossoms, and a few early azaleas. As much as she enjoyed the first signs of spring, Chloe found herself unable to stop surreptitiously studying her driver.

      Bryan had described his second-in-command as the classic “strong, silent type”—tough, blunt-spoken, ruthless when necessary. He had then added that Donovan Chance was the most honest, loyal, reliable friend he’d ever had. Chloe had expected to be a little awkward with Donovan. She hadn’t anticipated that she would be totally intimidated by him.

      He wasn’t as handsome as Bryan—not in the traditional sense, anyway. Donovan’s features were more rugged than Bryan’s. She would bet he’d had his nose broken in his youth; just enough to keep it from being perfectly straight. His jaw was square, his cheekbones broad, and his unsmiling eyes were such a pale, cool green they looked almost metallic. Nice mouth—but she doubted those firm, intriguingly etched lips curved into a smile very often.

      He wore “business-casual” clothing—a thin, V-necked cream-colored sweater over a navy-and-cream checked shirt with navy chinos and loafers—but he looked as though he’d be more at home in a denim shirt, jeans and a pair of boots. He’d apparently made