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“I’d better go,” she said. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  Both relieved and disappointed, he held her car door open while she got in behind the wheel. “I’ll be over by nine,” he said.

  She nodded. “Good-night, Blake. It was nice meeting you.”

  He smiled at her as he pushed the door carefully shut. “Drive safely.” He watched her back out and drive away before getting into his own car. Behind the wheel, he took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  The next two weeks were going to be the most blissful kind of agony there was. The physical differences between Andrea and Sarah were subtle, but Andrea had that doe-eyed look of a woman who was attracted to him that Sarah didn’t. Add to that her incredible allure, and he might as well give up and wrap himself around her finger.

  Just as he started the engine, his phone rang. The car’s Bluetooth showed Sarah’s number on the display. When it answered the call, he said drily, “Hello, love.”

  “Hi, Blake. I guess by now you’ve met Andrea.”

  “Yes, I have. What the hell, Sarah? Why did I have to hear all that from a stranger?”

  “We wanted to talk to you together,” she said, “but I had to catch a flight, and I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. Andrea says you’re on board.”

  “She just left. When did you talk to her?”

  “She texted me about ten minutes ago. Are you sure you can deal with this? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I didn’t want to postpone the wedding if I didn’t have to.”

  Blake sighed and backed out of the space. Andrea must have sent the text when she went to the restroom. “I wish you’d told me yourself when I put that ring on your finger.” He put the car into drive and started home.

  “Blake, I only met her yesterday.”

  “I wasn’t talking about your bizarre twin. I was talking about your being a lesbian. When were you planning to spring that on me? In bed on our wedding night?”

  “You’re right. I should’ve told you right away. Would it have mattered?”

  Maybe not, but Blake would have preferred to know such an important detail before proposing. He might have tried harder to work out another arrangement to get his mother the technology she wanted... and satisfy Harold’s lust for revenge against Blake Thomas, Sr. “I suppose your father knows?”

  “He knows but hasn’t accepted it. In his mind, a real man would turn me into a straight woman. He thinks I just need to put a little effort into it.”

  Now Harold’s statement on the golf course made sense. I knew a man like you could set that girl of mine straight.

  “Listen, Blake, I know this whole Andrea thing is a shock, but—”

  “I’m not done talking about you being gay. Please tell me you’re bisexual, that the thought of sleeping with me doesn’t repulse you.”

  Her answering silence said it all.

  “Damn it, Sarah. How could you keep that a secret from the man you’re about to marry?”

  She sighed. “I should have told you, and I was... I was wrong to withhold that from you. What more can I say?”

  “You can explain how you expect me to live as a married man without making love to my wife once in a while. Am I doomed to jerk off alone in the shower for the rest of my life?”

  “No. Of course not.” Was that disgust in her voice?

  Now it all became clear. “My God, Sarah. You never intended to stay married to me.”

  A few moments of silence ticked by. “I didn’t think this was a forever arrangement—just long enough to get our folks’ deal done.”

  “You weren’t even planning to consummate our marriage?”

  “That’s why the arrangement with Andrea is so perfect. If you two hit it off...”

  He waited, but she didn’t finish her sentence. “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying that you should do what comes naturally. If the attraction is there and you’re both willing, I don’t mind. It’s your honeymoon, after all.”

  “Our honeymoon. And after? Jesus. You don’t expect her to keep up this charade forever, do you? Living her own life by day and pretending to be you by night?”

  “No, not at all,” she said. “Let’s talk about it when we both get back. I don’t want to make anyone’s life miserable. We can work something out.”

  “You mean until you divorce me?” he spat back.

  “Yeah,” she said quietly. “Until I divorce you. Let’s be honest here. Neither of us wants this marriage. I’m just trying to make it as bearable as possible for us both.”

  Oh, now she wanted to be honest, now that Andrea had told him what Sarah lacked the courage to. “Right,” he said, angry and disappointed. Why couldn’t she have been honest with him from the beginning instead of letting him believe they could find happiness building a family together? “Good-night, Sarah. Be careful down there.” He disconnected before giving her a chance to reply and slammed his palms on the steering wheel, overwhelmed with frustration.

  He could have stuck it out. She was a decent person—kind and compassionate, pleasant to be with, responsible with money, and pretty. It could have worked—if she’d been hetero. Now the reality of it made his stomach churn in empty disgust. To Sarah, he was a means to an end, nothing more. A lucrative end, at that.

  He spent the rest of the evening pacing the long, empty halls of his home while he went over the conversations with Andrea and Sarah in his mind. Since graduating high school, Blake had watched his friends marry and then divorce a few years later. Whether they married for reasons other than love or they couldn’t work out their differences, it didn’t seem to matter in the end. They parted ways with the one they’d pledged to stay with forever, and never with anything other than vitriol and hatred. He didn’t see that happening for him. Marriage was a partnership for life, through thick and thin.

  As he lay in bed that night, his two brides swirling through his thoughts, he felt heavy and alone. Not only was he about to marry a woman who couldn’t muster any passion for him, she already had plans to divorce him. If he backed out, not only would he essentially be the one denying his mother the chance to see her husband’s dream come to fruition, but Harold Gentry would make good on his threat to tell Gloria about Blake Senior’s infidelity. Finding out the love of her life had succumbed to temptation one drunken night twenty years earlier would devastate her.

  Blake needed to start thinking of his upcoming marriage as a business deal. Maybe he’d have another look at that prenuptial agreement in the morning. If Andrea had power of attorney in matters pertaining to the marriage, then she could sign an amendment. After all, Sarah had deceived him in the worst way a woman could deceive her fiancé. He would go through with the wedding, but Sarah would have to stay in the marriage and try to make it work if she wanted any of his money.

  Once Andrea was on the road, heading to her apartment complex, she looked into the rearview mirror to make sure Blake wasn’t following her. A quiver of excitement rippled across her skin. My God, he’s so hot. When Sarah had shown her a photo of Blake, Andrea had thought him handsome in that out-of-reach movie star sort of way, but his warmth and the sincerity in his smile made him quite possibly the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen.

  And she was going to marry him.

  She shook her head. No, that wasn’t true. He wouldn’t be her husband at all but Sarah’s. She was just standing in for another woman while she married the sexiest man alive. And he was marrying a lesbian. What a waste. Though it was unfortunate, it was their business, not hers. Now that he knew about Sarah’s sexual orientation, Andrea wouldn’t be surprised if he called to cancel the wedding... or did what Sean had done—leave her standing at the altar, alone.

  Her spine stiffened. Blake wouldn’t do that, would he? He seemed committed to going through with it, even after finding out Sarah was gay. For him to put his own needs and desires aside out of love for his mother was admirable. Or maybe just plain weird. Was he one of those mama’s boys who never grew up
, always involving his mother in his private affairs? Well, Andrea wasn’t going to Hawaii with Blake and his mom, that was for sure. Once the honeymoon was over, Blake’s mother was Sarah’s problem.

  She parked in her assigned spot at the apartment complex and hurried up to her apartment. She pulled a canvas knapsack out of the closet and grabbed her toothbrush and other personal effects and put them in the front pocket. Her phone rang with the Looney Toons ringtone.

  “Hey, girlfriend,” she answered cheerfully as she shoved pair after pair of clean panties into her satchel.

  “Finally! Andie, what’s going on?”

  “You might not believe it,” she replied with a giggle. “Before I tell you, you have to promise this stays between you and me.”

  “Are you in danger?”

  “No. Absolutely not. Well, not physical danger.” If Blake left her at the altar on Saturday, she might lose her mind, but she decided not to relay that possibility to her best friend. “I signed a nondisclosure agreement, and I’m bound by contract to keep this private. I was given permission to tell you, but only if you promise not to tell anyone, not even Pete.”

  “All right, then,” Monica said. “I promise—unless I begin to fear for your safety, so you have to keep me in the loop.”

  Andrea told Monica about the second interview that morning, about Sarah’s strange request, and the promise of six million dollars. She let everything spill out in her excitement, telling her friend about her dinner with the handsome and wealthy groom, his mother’s business venture, Sarah’s tyrannical father, Sarah’s sexual orientation, and the business in Colombia that precipitated the whole thing.

  For a moment, Monica said nothing. “I don’t know about this, Andie. These are all rich people. If something goes wrong and you end up hurt, they’ll pay whoever they need to pay to get out of it. They can crush you with the weight of their money.”

  “Oh, hush your mouth,” Andrea said in her best Sarah imitation. “Don’t give me your ‘rich people are evil’ speech. They aren’t. And Blake’s really nice. He mistook me for Sarah and didn’t even get pissed when I told him what’s going on.”

  “Jesus. Watch your back, girlfriend. All they need to do is knock you upside the head and you could find yourself in a shallow grave somewhere.”

  Andrea clucked her tongue. “You’re such a worry wart. I’m not going to get hurt.”

  “You’d better not. I’d hate to have to hunt them down and kill them.”

  Andrea laughed. “I’m staying at Sarah’s until this whole thing is over. I have a couple of appointments tomorrow morning, and I’ll probably spend some time with Blake to get some coaching for Saturday. I’ll call you tomorrow afternoon. Maybe you can swing by on Thursday.”

  Monica sighed. “You’re resigned to doing this, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve already committed. The ball is rolling.”

  “Have you told your parents?”

  Ugh! Her parents. Just the thought of having to explain this to her mom and dad filled her with dread. They would think she’d gone crazy. She hadn’t even told them about the tattoo she’d gotten on her shoulder. “No,” she admitted. “And I’m not going to, either. Not until I’ve got to explain the six million dollars in my bank account.”

  “If they actually pay you.”

  “I have no reason to think they aren’t people of their word.” A double-beep in Andrea’s ear signaled a waiting call. “Oh, hey, I’m getting another call. Probably Sarah. I’ve got to go.”

  “All right. Keep me posted—either text or call—and let me know you’re all right.”

  “I will. Kiss kiss.” She pushed the flash button to switch to the incoming call and answered with a cheerful hello.

  “Hi, it’s Sarah. Just checking in.”

  “Sarah, hi. Are you in Colombia yet?”

  “We landed a few minutes ago. Did everything go okay with Blake?”

  “As well as could be expected. He’s on board and offered to help me learn to be you. He’s really nice.”

  “He’s got no weevils in his wheat, as we say. So you told him I’m gay.”

  “I had to. He deserved to know, and you authorized me to make decisions—”

  “Oh, I’m not upset, hon,” Sarah said. “I’m actually relieved. I’d been avoiding that conversation, so thank you. Is there anything you need to know? I might be hard to get hold of in the next couple of weeks.”

  “Blake mentioned something about Sunday, thinking it was why you weren’t here. Anything I should be concerned about?”

  Sarah clucked her tongue. “Oh, that. Don’t worry about it. Just a couple of bulls pawing the ground and snorting at each other.”

  “Oh,” Andrea said with a chuckle of relief. “What happened?”

  “We were out dancing and some creep decided he would be a better companion for me than Blake, and Blake took exception to that. The other guy wouldn’t back down, but his big mistake was grabbing my boob.”

  “Whoa, really? What’d you do?”

  “I hauled off and slapped his molars loose, which I thought would put an end to it, but Blake’s natural protective instinct kicked in. He beat the guy up pretty bad—not emergency room bad, but bruised and bloody. Definitely changed his mind about leaving the bar with me.”

  “Oh, my!” Andrea had never been one to condone violence, but to be honest, she thought it gallant of Blake to defend his lady. “Were you upset?”

  “I thought he went overboard with the beat-down, and I had to holler at him to get him to stop. True, the guy was being an ass, but I’m glad Blake was with me. I got the impression this guy might’ve followed me to my car. He was bold and creepy. Anyway, don’t worry about Blake.”

  “He won’t be facing charges, will he?”

  “No, there were a lot of witnesses. A few people even applauded.” Sarah chuckled. “Apparently, the jerk had been making a nuisance of himself all evening. I wasn’t the first woman he’d assaulted that night.”

  “Thanks for telling me. I was afraid it was something serious. Is he always like that? Protective?”

  “Yes, but considering his background, it’s not surprising.”

  Andrea felt this background was something she should know if she was going away with the guy. “What background? Was he a cop or something?”

  “No, not a cop. Don’t tell him I told you, but when he was in high school, one of his buddies got hurt on the football field. I think he said it was their last game of the season. Anyway, Blake went out for a pass, and the guy he would have blocked on a different play took out the quarterback.”

  “Oh, no,” Andrea said.

  “I don’t know a lot about football, but from the sound of it, it wasn’t Blake’s fault. He did what he was supposed to do, but he feels guilty for it anyway, like he faults himself for not being in two places at once.”

  “That’s terrible. Did the quarterback... did he die?”

  “No, but he’s in a wheelchair. It was a terrible injury, and so traumatic for Blake that he gave up a scholarship at a top-ranked football college to join the Army and never looked back.”

  Football. That explained his athletic build.

  “Oh, hey, I’d better go,” Sarah said. “Text when you need to. I’ll reply as soon as I can.”

  “Will do. Be careful, Sarah.”

  After disconnecting, Andrea took a shower in the master bathroom, enjoying the rainfall-style showerhead. She realized she’d forgotten to bring a night gown, and so she searched gingerly through Sarah’s dresser, feeling like a snoop, to find one that didn’t look too new or too worn. She didn’t want to wear Sarah’s favorite or something she’d bought for a special occasion.

  Snuggled in a plush robe and slippers, she roamed the house, admiring the gorgeous furniture and artwork, clean marble and wood floors, hand-woven area rugs, and the airy feel of the large rooms with their tall ceilings. While she might have preferred wall-to-wall carpeting in the larger rooms to cut down on the echo, the h
ome was lovelier than even the nicest hotel she’d ever stayed in. With six million dollars, she could have a nice home too—maybe not as fancy as this, but certainly more luxurious than anything she could hope to buy otherwise. To listen to Monica, she’d never see that money. However it played out, she would enjoy a few days here before her trip to Hawaii. At least that would be paid for.

  She curled up on the loveseat in the family room with her e-reader, but the luxurious home beckoned her. She walked around, envisioning herself living there permanently. Living in a beautiful home with a husband like Blake Thomas.

  Chapter 5

  Andrea awoke to the sound of the doorbell. She pulled on a robe and hurried to the top of the landing to see who it was. Blake stood outside the grand double glass doors holding two bulging grocery bags. Her heart sputtered at the sight of him, and there she was, barely dressed. She swiped a hand over her hair in a futile effort to smooth the disheveled strands as she hurried down the stairs.

  “Good morning,” he sang when she opened the door. He took in her state of undress with a crooked smile.

  “You’re early,” she said, stepping aside so he could enter.

  “Sarah doesn’t keep food in the house, so I thought I’d make you breakfast.” He offered her one of the two bags to carry, and she took it. The robe fell open, and he slid his free arm around her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her cheek. “You look very sexy,” he said into her ear.

  He headed toward the kitchen, leaving her standing there, mouth agape, while her mind raced to catch up with what had just happened. Andrea pushed the door shut with her foot and followed him, clutching the robe closed with her free hand. “What time is it?” She set the bag on the island countertop and peered inside: eggs, bread, and some kind of bakery box at the bottom.

  “Seven fifteen. Why don’t you run up and get dressed while I start?” He glanced at her over his shoulder as he began unpacking the other grocery bag, setting the items on the countertop: milk, jam, sausage, and butter.

  She watched him dig around in the cupboards for pots and pans, stunned. He was a rich guy, probably had all kinds of servants and staff to cook and clean for him, and yet he’d learned to cook? Sean had never made anything for her, not even a cup of coffee. “Um, okay.” From the back, his shoulders looked broader than she’d remembered, his waist narrow in comparison, and his butt, sculpted and lean, looked fine in dark blue chinos.