Switched At The Altar

Two

For a moment Alex couldn’t speak. He nearly choked on the fury rising inside him. “There isn’t going to be a wedding,” he finally managed to say.

Desiree arched her brow. “No? I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

“I am sure of it. Kevin is not going to marry you.”

“I believe that’s another one of those decisions that’s not yours to make.”

“Trust me, Ms. Mason. You are not going to marry my brother.” Even if he was wrong and she wasn’t a gold-digging actress with her eye on Kevin’s trust fund as he suspected, he couldn’t tolerate the thought of her being married to his brother. Not when he could all too easily imagine her with him, in his bed, with her body naked beneath his. Just the thought of being with her had him growing hard with desire—and sent guilt stabbing through him like a knife. He shoved a hand through his hair. She was involved with his brother, for pity’s sake. Yet, not even that knowledge could ease the hungry, restless ache inside him that he experienced by just looking at her.

“Like I said, that’s Kevin’s decision. And mine,” she amended a moment later, as though adding herself to the equation was an afterthought. “Now, you really will have to excuse me while I see if I can find out what happened to the actor Bernie was supposed to send over.”

She smiled at him, and Alex’s brain turned to mush. He stared at her mouth, mesmerized by the bow shape of those rose-colored lips, remembering how warm and soft they’d felt against his own.

“I believe you can find your way out.”

He watched in silence as she scooped up the train of her wedding gown and walked down the hall. For a second he tracked the enticing sway of her hips as she moved down the corridor before she disappeared into one of the rooms.

At the click of the door closing, Alex blinked. He shook his head to clear it. Muttering an oath, he started off after her. “The woman must be some kind of witch,” Alex grumbled, remembering the tales of voodoo and black magic that was supposedly still practiced in the New Orleans area. For a moment he’d been so mesmerized by her that he’d almost forgotten his reason for being here in the first place. Alex frowned at that realization. Try as he might to stop it, he couldn’t help thinking of his father.

Eddie Stone had been a dashing, debonair ladies’ man with a hearty laugh, a lust for partying and the deep pockets to pay for it. He’d also been as irresponsible as hell. He’d been about to marry wife number five when he’d been killed in a skiing accident. Otherwise, Alex might have added a few more stepmothers to his family tree. While his memories of time spent with his father were good ones, they were far too few—primarily because of his string of ex-wives, three of whom had been ladies from the South.

And now Kevin thought he was in love with Desiree Mason, another Southern belle. He conjured up an image of the green-eyed beauty in his mind and frowned. Maybe it was something in the water that drew men to women like her. Alex hesitated in front of the room he’d seen Desiree go into. Or maybe it was a weak gene in the Stone men that made them susceptible to a woman with a honeyed voice and magnolia-soft skin.

Whatever the reason, Alex decided, he had no intention of allowing himself to fall under Desiree Mason’s or any woman’s spell. With that thought in mind, he rapped his knuckles on the door.

“It’s open,” she called out in a distant, somewhat muf fled voice.

Alex pushed the door open and stepped inside only to discover the room was empty. “Ms. Mason?”

“Be right with you,” Desiree called out from an adjoining room.

As he waited, Alex took the opportunity to study the room. Just like the rest of the house, this room boasted high ceilings that were accented by crown molding. Ivory silk wall coverings flecked with gold ran from ceiling to floor. What he suspected was either a genuine Aubusson rug or a good imitation covered the center of a wooden floor that was in dire need of polishing. A lovely watercolor of Magnolia House and the grounds, painted during earlier and obviously more prosperous times, hung crookedly on one wall alongside several framed theater posters of plays that he’d never heard of, let alone seen.

On another wall damask drapes, in a faded shade of what once had probably been mint, were swept back from a massive window that served as a home to a half dozen flowering plants.

Alex fingered a purple bloom on one of the plants and caught the fragrant scent. Wisteria. It brought back vague memories of a house with a yard and a huge tree with a swing. He could remember sitting in that swing as a little boy, urging his mother to push him higher. He’d wanted to reach the tree’s limbs and capture one of the purple flowers from the vine tangled in its branches. It had been the first and only time he’d lived with his parents—before they’d divorced, before they’d left him with his grand-father and gone on to their new lives—lives without him.

Pushing the melancholy thought aside, Alex prowled the room while he waited for Desiree. The place was a mess, Alex decided as he looked at the beautiful Queen Anne desk covered with stacks of papers, magazines and bound copies of what were evidently plays. A battered-looking computer sat haphazardly on a desk blotter. Framed photographs took up what little space was left. Alex picked up one of the snapshots of a much-younger Desiree flanked by a timid-looking blonde and a serious-eyed brunette—all dressed in toy soldier costumes and tap shoes. He grinned at the way Desiree mugged for the camera despite two missing front teeth.

“That was one of my first starring roles,” Desiree told him from the doorway. “You’re looking at the Mason Sisters Trio. Tap dance recital for four- to six-year-olds,” she explained.

She was still wearing the wedding dress, but the veil and flowers were gone. Most of her hair had escaped from its combs, leaving long strands of red shot with gold trailing along her neck and cheeks. “Must have been quite a performance,” Alex replied.

“Oh, believe me, it was.”

She walked toward him, the sound of her skirt swishing as she moved, and his eyes immediately zeroed in on those sashaying hips.

“My sister Lorelei—she’s the blonde—lost her dinner in front of the entire audience before we even got to the first ‘ball-change’ in the dance routine. Stage fright,” she said as though that explained everything.

“And my sister Clea—” she pointed to the brunette “—she’s the perfectionist. She was so miffed at Lorelei for ruining our act, she walked off the stage in the middle of our number and hung up her tap shoes for good. I’m afraid it ruined any hopes my parents might have been harboring that we’d be a dancing version of the Lennon Sisters.”

“What about you? What did you do when your sisters dropped out of the show?”

“The Mason Sisters Trio quickly became a group of one. They had to yank me off the stage because I insisted on completing the number by doing everyone’s part.”

Alex heard the smile in her voice even before she looked up from the photograph he was holding and he saw it on her lips. “And you’ve been dancing ever since.”

“And acting.” She took the picture from his hands, stroked the edges of the frame lovingly before returning it to her desk. She glanced up at him. “But I’m sure you didn’t really follow me in here to hear about my sisters and our failed attempt at show business, now, did you?”

“No.” He hadn’t, and Alex tamped down the urge to ask her to tell him more about herself and her family. Once more the lady had distracted him from his purpose. “I’m here because we didn’t finish our conversation about you and Kevin.”

“We did as far as I’m concerned. There’s nothing further to discuss.” Desiree turned around, offering him her back. “Do me a favor, will you? Unhook the back of this thing so I can get out of this dress.”

Alex stared at her bare shoulders and tried to ignore the faint hint of flowers that seemed to emanate from her skin. His gaze strayed to a heart-shaped mole just above her left shoulder. He had an incredible urge to run his fingertip across it.

“I had Mindy—she was one of the bridesmaids—help me get into this getup, but she’s already gone, and now I can’t get the thing off by myself. I can’t imagine why a designer would make a dress with all those tiny buttons down the back. How do they expect you to get the thing off?”

“Since it’s a wedding dress, I suspect the designer assumed the bride’s husband would be helping her to take it off.”

Desiree stilled a moment, and then he heard her laughter. “Kevin said you tended to take things literally. He was right.” She looked at him over her shoulder again. Her green eyes sparkled, a mischievous grin curved her mouth. “Well, since my groom isn’t here at the moment, maybe you could do the honors for him. Or is that a problem?”

Alex caught the note of challenge in her voice, saw the dare in her eyes. “No problem at all.” He’d show the little tease. Did she think she could unnerve him by asking him to help her undress? He reached for the first button. His fingers brushed against her skin, and it was just as soft as it looked. And warm. Despite his efforts not to respond to her and all that soft, bare skin, the blood heated in his veins as, one by one, he released the tiny buttons from their silken loops. “There. It’s unbuttoned,” he told her and stepped back.

Clutching the front of her gown with one hand, she reached behind her to the bow at her waist. She fumbled with the fastening. She turned slightly and lifted her gaze to his. The challenge was still there in her eyes, but there was also an awareness now that hadn’t been there a moment ago. “Looks like I need you to unhook the train for me, too,” she told him in that honey and whiskey voice before giving him her back again. “There’s a row of hooks beneath the bow.”

Alex felt the punch of desire hit him as he forced his gaze down the length of her bare spine where the dress gaped, to the curve of her waist, to the jutting of her hips.

“Can you see the hooks?”

“I see them,” he said, irritated by his body’s response to her. Swallowing, Alex hesitated a moment before stepping closer. He lifted the bow that draped over her shapely bottom and, gritting his teeth, he fought back the urge to cup her in his hands. Instead, he caught her at the waist with his right hand and used the fingers of his left hand to work at the tiny hooks attached to the bow. All the while he was conscious of the slope of her hips, the warmth of the satin-covered skin beneath his fingers.

Finally the bow and train fell free from the gown. After placing them on the desk, he started to attack the row of buttons that ran from her waist to the top of her bottom. He’d barely finished opening the first button when Desiree reached behind her and grabbed his hand.

“Stop!”

Alex looked up, surprised at the unsteady sound of her voice. She whipped around. Still holding the front of her dress, she snatched up the train and bow with one hand and took a few steps away from him. When she looked at him, heat licked at him again as he recognized the flame of desire in her eyes. He slid his gaze down the length of her and back up again, noting her flushed cheeks, her quickened breathing, the rise and fall of her breasts. Alex itched to reach out, pull her fingers away from where they clutched the front of the dress to her. He wanted to peel the lace edges away from her breasts and touch them. He took a step toward her.

Desiree moved a step back. “Th-thanks. But I think I can manage the rest of the buttons myself,” she told him, then began to inch her way backward across the room until she reached the door she’d emerged from earlier. She fumbled with the doorknob, pushed the door open with the heel of her foot. “Goodbye, Alex. I’ll tell Kevin you were looking for him,” she said before disappearing behind the door.

Alex took a deep breath. He scrubbed a hand across his face. Muttering an oath, he jammed his hands into his pockets. No wonder Kevin was in trouble! Hell, he had been in trouble there for a minute. The woman had him feeling like a damn teenager who’d just discovered the opposite sex. Another five minutes of touching her soft flesh, smelling that flower-scented skin and he would have been hard-pressed not to beg her to let him make love to her.

Kevin was definitely in over his head where Desiree Mason was concerned. His brother wouldn’t have a prayer at resisting the woman if she’d set her sights on marrying him. His only hope, Alex decided, was to find Kevin fast and get his brother back to Boston and as far away from Desiree Mason as he possibly could. It also wouldn’t be a bad idea to get himself out of range as well.

Desiree leaned against the door of her bedroom. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Whew! Talk about playing with fire. Alexander Stone ranked right up there with a four-alarm blaze. She must have been out of her mind to bait him the way she had. Pushing away from the door, she finished unbuttoning the wedding dress and shivered as she remembered the feel of his fingers brushing against her skin. Her stomach fluttered as she recalled glancing up and seeing the heat of desire in his dark eyes.

Thank heavens she’d had enough sense to call a halt to things when she had. Otherwise, who knows what would have happened. Desiree frowned. From everything Kevin had told her about his older brother and his aversion to romantic involvements, she didn’t doubt for a moment that she’d have been the one who would have ended up getting burned.

She arranged the gown on its padded hanger and did up some of the buttons to keep it in place. As she fingered the satin-covered buttons, she thought of Alex’s comment about the dress being designed for a man to take it off. A tremor of excitement danced along her spine as she wondered what it would have been like to have Alex undress her for real.

Dangerous, she told herself at the crazy thought. Give it up, girl. The man is definitely not the “marriage and happily ever after” type. And since she wasn’t interested in an affair, there was no point in even thinking about it. She reached for a pair of white cotton shorts and the tropical-print blouse that she’d laid out on the bed earlier. She should be thanking her lucky stars she’d gotten rid of the man, she chided. But instead of relief, she felt an odd sense of disappointment.

Desiree laughed aloud at herself. Evidently catching the bouquet at her sister Lorelei’s wedding and then taking on the role of a bride in this play had fried her brain. Why else would she be the least bit disappointed to see the last of Alexander Stone? The guy might be gorgeous and maybe he could make her blood spin with just a look, but she’d have to be nuts to even consider getting involved with him. Not that there was much likelihood of that happening, since he believed she was engaged to his brother.

She felt a prick of conscience at that thought. She probably shouldn’t have let him think that she and Kevin were engaged. But even if she’d come clean and told him the truth—that she and Kevin were nothing more than friends—he probably wouldn’t have believed her, anyway. He’d made up his mind, before he’d known who she was, that she was after Kevin for his money. Well, Alex Stone would have to just stew over her pretend engagement to his brother until Kevin returned, and then he could set the man straight. In the meantime she was short one actor and had yet to speak to Bernie.

After knotting the blouse at her waist, she slipped on her sandals and headed out the door. She stepped into the sitting room that she’d converted into her office and headed straight for her desk to find Bernie’s number. She came to a halt mid-step at the sight of Alex standing at the window, staring out at the oak trees. Her chest tightened at the sad, lonely expression on his face.

As though sensing her presence he turned around to face her. The vulnerability that had been there a moment ago disappeared. His eyes darkened. He slid his gaze over her like a caress, and Desiree’s disobedient pulse immediately picked up speed. With far more calm than she was feeling, she walked over to her desk. Retrieving the stack of business cards she’d bundled together with a rubber band weeks ago and had yet to organize, she began to shuffle through them in search of Bernie’s phone number. “I didn’t realize you were still here,” she told him, praying he wouldn’t notice how unsteady her fingers were.

“Contrary to what you might prefer, I have no intention of leaving until I speak with my brother.”

“But I told you, Kevin isn’t here.”

“I know what you said. But I don’t believe you. I wouldn’t put it past Kevin to hide out just to avoid facing me. He knew I’d be furious with him for dropping out of law school, and he knows I’d be even angrier at the prospect of him getting married.”

“Fine, don’t believe me then,” she said, slapping down the cards. Lord, but the man was stubborn. “Since you’re so convinced I’m lying, why don’t you search the house and grounds.”

“I intend to.”

She shrugged. “Suit yourself. It’s your time. If you want to waste it, go right ahead. But you aren’t going to find Kevin hidden under a bed or a closet somewhere because I told you the truth. Your brother isn’t here.”

Alex rubbed his jaw and continued to study her with those midnight eyes of his. “If he’s not here, then where is he?”

“Out of town.”

“Out of town?”

“That’s what I said. He left more than a week ago.”

“Where did he go?”

“I...I don’t know,” Desiree replied and crossed her fingers behind her back at the semi-white lie. Well, it was true, she reasoned. She didn’t know exactly where Kevin was, only that he was somewhere in the Chicago area. He’d gone to visit his girlfriend—a dancer working in a musical.

“When is he due back?”

“I’m not exactly sure.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “You expect me to believe that my brother drops out of law school, closes up his apartment and leaves town without telling his fiancée where he’s going or when he’ll be back?”

“Yes! No!”

“Well, which one is it?” Alex demanded.

“Both.” She took a steadying breath and wished she’d never let herself get into this mess. “Listen, I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know where Kevin is or when he’ll be back because... well, because I sort of misled you a little earlier,” she admitted, embarrassed now by how she’d let her temper get the better of her.

“Misled me?”

Desiree could feel the flush crawl up her neck and cheeks. “About... about the nature of my relationship with Kevin,” she finally managed to get out. Feeling defensive, she tried to explain. “You were acting so darn huffy when you came in here looking like you’d just stepped out of an advertisement in GQ with your custommade suit and Italian loafers and you were so darned indignant at the mere idea that Kevin might actually consider marrying me that I...that I—” she hiked up her chin “—I decided to teach you a lesson.”