The Groom's Stand-In. GINA WILKINS

Grace had been right all along, she thought somberly, and then winced at the thought of her twin saying, “I told you so.”

      Donovan hesitated outside Chloe’s bedroom door, his hand half raised to knock. For some reason, he was having a little trouble following through with that motion.

      After making her way up the path with a speed that had left him almost breathless, she’d closed herself in her room for the remainder of the morning. She’d murmured something about having brought some paperwork along. Rather unexpected, considering this was supposed to be a romantic getaway for her and Bryan—but then, it wouldn’t surprise him at all if Bryan brought a briefcase full of paperwork with him. Maybe Chloe and Bryan really were two of a kind.

      Scowling, Donovan rapped on the door more sharply than he had intended.

      Chloe opened it quickly. “What is it?”

      “It’s nearly one o’clock. I thought you might be hungry.”

      She looked surprised, as if the morning had slipped away from her. “I didn’t realize it was so late. I hope you’ve already eaten.”

      “No.”

      “Then you must be starving. Since you cooked breakfast, I’ll fix something for lunch.”

      “Too late. I’ve already prepared lunch. I hope grilled chicken and vegetables sound good to you.”

      “That sounds fine, but you really shouldn’t have gone to so much trouble. I let the time get away, but I certainly don’t expect you to cook for me.”

      He shrugged. “I had to eat, anyway. I’ll meet you in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

      “I’ll wash my hands and be right down.”

      He really hadn’t minded preparing lunch; it had given him something to do other than think about Chloe. He had the table set and the food ready to serve when she joined him.

      “This looks delicious,” she said, taking her seat. “Don’t even think about doing dishes after we’ve eaten. Cleaning up is the least I can do.”

      He wouldn’t argue with her. If doing dishes made her feel like she was pulling her weight, then he wouldn’t try to stop her.

      “You’re a very good cook,” she said a few minutes later.

      “I get by as long as I’ve got a grill and a microwave.”

      Glancing toward the state-of-the-art, chef’s dream kitchen attached to the sunny nook in which they were eating, she replied, “You have a lot more than that here.”

      Following her glance, he nodded. “Bryan always goes top-of-the-line.”

      “Does Bryan like to cook?”

      “He knows how, of course. Even though he’s always been able to pay for services, he believes everyone should know ordinary living skills like cooking, doing laundry and basic home and car maintenance.”

      “That’s a very practical point of view. If he ever loses his fortune, at least he’ll be able to take care of himself.”

      Donovan knew she was joking. He knew she doubted—as did he—that Bryan Falcon would ever have to count his pennies.

      Donovan had no doubt that he would still be there if Bryan lost everything. His loyalty to Bryan had nothing to do with fortune or social position. He wasn’t confident that Chloe could say the same. If her relationship with Bryan wasn’t based on love but on the promise of financial security, then bankruptcy would certainly put an end to that connection.

      When he failed to respond to her quip, Chloe changed the subject. “You told me a little about your recent trip to Venice. Has your work with Bryan involved a lot of travel?”

      “At times.”

      “Do you enjoy it?”

      “My work or the travel?”

      “Either.”

      “I like the work. I tolerate the travel because it’s part of the job.”

      She looked vaguely dismayed, reminding him that she’d told him she dreamed of travel.

      “I didn’t say I dislike the travel,” he said, feeling almost as if should apologize for disappointing her. “I enjoy it sometimes.”

      He must not have convinced her. She changed the subject again. “Have you worked with Bryan since you finished college?”

      He stabbed his fork into a cauliflower floret. “I never went to college, actually. I went into the army after high school.”

      “I didn’t realize that. Bryan said you’d been with him since the beginning.”

      “We’ve been friends for a long time. Stayed in touch while he went off to college and I went into the military. When he broke away from his father’s company a few years ago to start Bryan Falcon Enterprises, he brought me on board.”

      “Were you still in the army then?”

      “No. I’d been out for a while.”

      “What did you do in the interim?”

      “This and that.” He didn’t want to talk about those years in between.

      He knew she was only trying to keep the conversation flowing, trying to avoid those awkward lapses between them. Lapses during which they both became self-conscious and tongue-tied, when stray glances tended to lock and hold for long moments—until Chloe looked away, her cheeks turning pink and her voice becoming a little breathless. He didn’t try to convince himself that she was fighting the same inappropriate attraction he was, but there was definitely an awareness between them.

      They’d spent entirely too many hours alone together. It would be better for everyone involved if Bryan arrived soon.

      Leaving Chloe to clean up, as she had insisted, he went into the smaller of the two offices in the house, the one he always used here. He turned on his computer and spent an hour replying to the most urgent of his e-mails, trying to keep himself occupied. When the phone rang, he answered it absently.

      “How’s it going there?”

      Bryan’s voice brought Donovan’s attention away from the computer monitor. “Tell me you’re in transit.”

      “Problems there? You and Chloe are getting along okay, aren’t you?”

      “Well enough. But she didn’t come here to spend time with me. Right now she’s probably wishing she’d stayed home.”

      “What have you been doing today?”

      “I’ve been working most of the day. Parker in L.A. wants an answer by tomorrow morning. And Hamilton’s got a proposal she wants us to look over soon.”

      “You can take care of those things later. I’d rather you keep Chloe entertained now. I don’t like to think of her bored and lonely while I’m stuck here for the rest of the afternoon. I know you can be entertaining company when you make the effort, so give it a try, will you?”

      Donovan made certain his exaggerated sigh carried clearly through the phone lines. “I really do have more important things to do than to babysit your girlfriend du jour, you know.”

      The words had barely left his mouth when he happened to glance toward the open doorway. Chloe stood there holding a steaming mug. Her face was completely expressionless, but Donovan knew she had heard his cranky complaint. The set of her shoulders let him know she hadn’t liked it.

      He cleared his throat. “Er…”

      “Let me guess,” Bryan drawled, as eerily perceptive as always, “Chloe just walked in.”

      “Yeah.”

      “Put her on the line, will you? And, Donovan—after you pry your foot out of your mouth and apologize, be nice