Marrying Marcus. Laurey Bright

just half an hour out of Auckland, until he’d settled. They hadn’t been expecting him to bring a fiancée, but there’d be no problem putting up an extra person in the big house where they’d brought up their family—the house Jenna had known almost as well as she knew the much smaller home she’d shared with her mother next door.

      In the parking area the cool air chilled her, although the gray morning sky was turning to blue, with high white clouds drifting across it.

      Marcus guided her to his sleek maroon car and opened the door for her. He didn’t speak again until they were on their way out of the airport complex, driving between green fields gradually being overtaken by new buildings.

      Then he said, “I told the family I’d join them later. Have you had breakfast?”

      “Breakfast?” Jenna repeated vaguely.

      “Something to eat. What most people have in the morning.”

      “No.” She and Katie had been too rushed and too excited to eat breakfast at that early hour. She didn’t see what relevance it had.

      “Neither have I,” Marcus said. “We’ll stop on the way.”

      Jenna didn’t argue, although she had never felt less hungry. Like his younger siblings, she’d developed a habit of listening to Marcus.

      When they reached the outskirts of the city he found a restaurant and ordered juice, toast and pancakes for two, and made Jenna drink hot, strong coffee. With sugar.

      “That’s better,” he said, after she had eaten two slices of toast and pushed the empty coffee cup away. “You’re beginning to look human again.”

      “I’m never at my best in the morning,” she said.

      Marcus gave her a thoughtful look. “I’m sorry, Jenna.”

      She gazed down at the white ceramic salt cellar on the table—shiny and smooth. “Thanks,” she said, “for breakfast.” And for rescuing me. Stopping me from making a complete fool of myself. “I’ll pay my share.”

      “Don’t be silly.” A lean hand caught hers as she made to open her purse. “I’m paying.” He removed his warm, strong fingers from hers and took out his wallet.

      In the car she said, “Maybe I should just go home.”

      Katie had taken it for granted that Jenna would spend the weekend with the Crossans. It was lucky, she’d said, that her twin had chosen to fly in on a Saturday. They needn’t take time off from work.

      Jenna had thought it lucky too. Now she wished she could plead pressure of work, an emergency, any excuse not to be there.

      His hand on the ignition key, Marcus turned a searching look on her.

      “An engagement is a family affair,” Jenna suggested, her voice strained. “And I’m not family.”

      Gently he said, “It smacks a bit of sour grapes, you know. Do you want to make us all feel guilty?”

      “No! We—you’ve all been looking forward so much to having Dean home again. I want everyone to be happy for him and…and Callie.”

      “Very noble.” His tone was extremely dry. “I suspect you’d like to slap him silly, really. I know I would. I felt like thumping him at the airport.”

      Jenna blinked up at him, surprised that Marcus should feel so strongly on her behalf. “I don’t suppose I’d be missed,” she said.

      He made a small, scornful noise in his throat. “You know better than that. Of course you’d be missed.” He paused. “If it’s what you want, I’ll take you back to the flat and tell the family you’re not well.” But he sounded reluctant.

      They’d guess that the only thing she was nursing was a broken heart…wouldn’t they? And if Katie did believe in a sudden sickness, concern about Jenna being ill and alone would spoil her delight in her brother’s return.

      She chewed her lower lip, undecided. “I suppose your whole family is sorry for me.”

      “Katie might be. I guess you’ve told her how you feel?”

      After a moment Jenna shook her head. “Not really. I mean…not in so many words.” She’d assumed that Katie knew—but then she’d assumed Dean felt the same. And she’d been totally, unbelievably wrong. “I thought everyone knew.” She lifted her eyes to his almost accusingly. “You did.”

      His mouth moved in a slight smile. “I don’t think my parents have recognized yet that you and the twins are actually grown up. They’ve never taken your adoration of Dean seriously. And Jane has been pretty much occupied with her own family for the past few years. I take it you haven’t been exchanging love letters with my little brother?”

      She’d always signed her regular letters with “Love, Jenna.” And Dean had sent his love in return when he wrote, but his much-less-frequent letters were addressed to both Jenna and his twin, and when he phoned the flat, whichever of the girls answered the phone called out to the other, and they’d eagerly swapped the receiver between them and passed messages until Dean had to hang up.

      Jenna had never minded sharing. She’d been grateful that Katie didn’t either. Twins, even nonidentical ones, enjoyed a special bond. She understood that. Did Callie? She said, “Not love letters, exactly.”

      She and Dean had known each other so long there was no need to express their feelings in extravagant words. They would have felt silly doing it.

      “Dean isn’t cruel,” Marcus said consideringly. “But he’s not always terribly bright about people’s feelings. Probably he just never noticed. The consequence of growing up together. He didn’t see what was right under his nose practically all his life.”

      If Marcus was right, staying away today would only fuel any suspicion that might enter anyone’s head—including Dean’s. Or Callie’s. Somehow that would be worse than anything.

      His voice became brisk. “How are your acting skills? You used to be pretty good as a kid. Especially if it was a question of saving young Dean’s bacon.”

      But Marcus, she recalled, had always seen through her subterfuges on Dean’s behalf. As he’d seen through her today and stepped in to avert what might have been a dampener on the family reunion, an embarrassment to everyone.

      When she remained silent, he added, “It’s entirely your choice, but if you come along I promise I’ll make it as bearable as I can—and we’ll leave early.”

      Jenna took a deep breath. “I’ll come.”

      She couldn’t read the look he gave her. His mouth was very firm, his eyes dark and probing. Then he put out a hand to squeeze hers before starting the car.

      It was just as bad as she had imagined.

      Marcus parked in the asphalt area in front of the sprawling old house with its gabled windows, the walls and decorative trims freshly painted in honor of Dean’s return. Brushing past scented lavender and frilled pinks in pots at the side of the steps, they went in the big front door that was expectantly open and through the wide hallway.

      The adults were sitting around in the family room with cups of tea and coffee, while the children darted between the chairs and chased one another in and out of the French windows opening onto the tree-fringed lawn and the fenced pool.

      Marcus explained their delayed arrival by saying he’d needed something to eat after being dragged out of bed at some ungodly hour at his younger sister’s insistence and then stuck at the airport for nearly an hour.

      “You could have eaten here,” his mother chided.

      “I was too hungry to wait.” He smiled at her. “And going without breakfast didn’t do Jenna any good, either.”

      Mrs. Crossan gave her a sympathetic look. “You are a wee bit pale.” She dropped her voice and murmured