The Look-Alike Bride (Crimson Romance) (5 page)

“What does security consulting involve?” she asked.

She looked genuinely curious. Adam reflected that if he hadn’t suspected before that this woman wasn’t Zara Daniel, he would now. Zara had spent half an hour several months back, grilling him about his company. He remembered feeling like a witness facing a laser-eyed prosecuting attorney.

“I analyze the surroundings of the home or office, point out the security problems I find, and give suggestions on how to fix them,” he said. “That’s why I know a lot about alarm systems.”

“I’ve always thought the best security system was a good dog,” she said.

“Hence, Butch? You have a point. Not many home alarm systems can beat a good dog. Where’d you find Butch?”

“He found me a few days ago when I was jogging in the park.” She swallowed a bite of the excellent fried fish with enthusiasm. “The vet I took him to said he had lost some weight but was still healthy. Since there were no ads or notices of a lost collie, I kept him.”

“He must have been running wild a week or two before you found him.” Adam recalled the big chucks of fur missing from Butch’s coat. “So he kills on your signal, does he?”

She gave him a defiant look. “Butch is a very well-trained dog.”

“He does have a ferocious growl,” Adam agreed, grinning. “It was a surprise to me to find out you were such a dedicated dog lover. Do you think he’ll allow me to take you out for something to eat tonight?”

“What?” She almost choked on a forkful of green beans and started coughing. “I’m busy tonight, but thank you anyway.”

She looked so shaken, he almost took pity on her and dropped the subject. But not quite. Instead, he did something he’d never been guilty of in his life. He tried to talk her into breaking her other plans.

No matter what he said, she smiled and said she couldn’t change her plans. But her smile was both wistful and nervous, a peculiar combination that caused him to think crazy thoughts. He even seriously considered hiding in the forest and seeing for himself what the man who knocked on her door that night was like, assuming her plans included a date.

He was being ridiculous, Adam chided himself after driving “Zara” back to her car. There were better ways to get where he wanted to be that evening.

The sun was setting with a last explosion of golden splendor across the lake and western sky when Adam burst from the trees behind Zara’s cabin. He had already walked over once to “check things out.” That earlier trip had convinced him she didn’t have another date. She had placed a lawn chair on the lakeshore and was sitting there in jeans and a T-shirt, with Butch beside her, watching the sun set.

If she’d had a date, Adam reasoned, she would have been inside the cabin, doing whatever it was that women did to get themselves ready. Therefore, her steadfast claims of “other plans” meant she was suspicious of him and his motives. Again, Adam was amazed at himself for feeling so wondrously bucked up about the realization.

Naturally, once he’d driven “Zara” back to the church, he discovered he couldn’t concentrate on his business. So he spent the afternoon making telephone calls and collecting facts. Now that he had them, including a photocopy of Zara’s younger sister, Leonie, he had downloaded from the website of a high school in Houston where she had recently taught, he thought he had a line on what was going on.

Leonie didn’t look much like Zara, according to the photograph he’d obtained, but he spotted the likeness in their bone structures immediately. He was willing to bet that if Leonie bleached her hair and layered on the makeup, she could pass for Zara’s twin. He felt convinced that the woman he’d spent such an agreeable morning with wasn’t Zara Daniel at all, but her sister, Leonie.

He paused a moment at the edge of the forest and studied the quiet surroundings. Leonie Daniel lived in Houston and taught high school health and physical education. That was all he’d been able to find out about her on such short notice. He hoped that before the evening was over, he could find out a lot more.

Right now, all he knew was that she interested him in a way no other woman ever had. That ought to make him skittish enough to do a vanishing act. Instead, it made him more determined to find out all he could about her, firsthand.

Leonie and her dog had already gone inside the cabin when he marched to the front door with a covered platter balanced on one hand.

“Who is it?” she called.

From the suspicious tone alone, Adam knew she had planned no date for that night. He heard three deep “woofs” from the other side of the door and waited until Butch quieted before answering.

“It’s your neighbor down the lake.” He wondered what she’d make of that.

Butch barked sharply.

“I’ve come to welcome you to the neighborhood,” he added helpfully.

He heard sounds, then the door opened two inches and Leonie Daniel’s mistrustful blue eyes peered out at him. Two feet below Leonie’s face, Butch’s long nose tested his scent and found it wanting. The dog’s upper lip drew up in a snarl.

Adam thrust forward the covered platter. “Cookies, freshly baked. It’s a local tradition.” He added, “They go really well with milk or coffee.”

The door remained where it was in spite of the enticing scent of freshly baked cinnamon-oatmeal cookies. “I’m busy tonight, Mr. Silverthorne.”

Mr. Silverthorne. They’d just see about that.

“You’re washing your hair?” he asked in bland tones.

“Playing solitaire, actually,” she said, unable to stop a grin. “It’s a very demanding activity.”

“I see.” He pretended to think a moment. “Maybe you could postpone seeing who wins the current hand until tomorrow morning. These cookies are losing their heat. If you don’t eat a cinnamon-oatmeal cookie while it’s hot out of the oven, it loses a lot of flavor.”

He’d been on target when he chose the cinnamon-oatmeal brand of refrigerator cookie dough, Adam decided. Her nose wrinkled a little as she inhaled the delicious scent, and her eyelashes drifted closed.

Butch, however, was not fooled. He knew Adam at once for a rival, and an underhanded one at that. He gave forth a low, rumbling growl that Adam had no trouble interpreting.

“Hush, Butch.” Leonie laid a hand on the dog’s noble head and opened the door, stepping back in invitation. “He’s bearing gifts. Maybe you’ll change your mind if he lets you eat one.”

Butch didn’t think so, judging from his stiff-legged stance beside Leonie. Adam eyed them both appreciatively and resolved to work at winning the dog’s affection. It was clear Leonie Daniel was a “love me, love my dog” kind of woman.

“Of course, he’ll change his mind,” he said. “If he doesn’t, I’ll personally grill him a steak.”

“You’re a cook?” Leonie stared at the platter he held balanced on the palm of one hand. “I’m impressed. My last batch of homemade cookies all ran together and burned. I had to cut them apart with a knife then scrape the charcoal off the bottoms.”

Adam smiled and said nothing about the two ruined batches of cinnamon-oatmeal cookies in the garbage can outside his back door. “If you made them from scratch, I’m sure they were delicious anyway.” He followed her inside.

The cabin was a modern affair with an open design built around the living room and kitchen, which were different areas of the same large room. There were two bedrooms, he noted, and the one Leonie occupied had the door open. The cabin looked like Zara, he decided. Not at all the sort of place that suited Leonie.

Butch, looking disgusted, went back to lie down beside the sofa, where Leonie had been reading a book chosen from the well-stocked bookshelf. He noted the untouched selection of bestsellers and educational coffee-table books and wondered if any of them suited Leonie, or if she had brought her own reading matter. He’d have to find out.

“Let me tell you something, Adam.” She led the way to the kitchen, apparently unaware that she’d suddenly switched back into calling him Adam again. “Baking cookies or anything else from scratch is highly overrated. What’s wrong with a package of that frozen cookie dough?”

“Not one thing.” He maintained his friendly neighbor facade with an effort when she opened the refrigerator and bent to retrieve a quart of milk. Her soft old jeans outlined her figure with faithful precision. “It’s the finished product that counts.”

“Exactly.” She didn’t seem to notice his strangled tone. “I, for one, have never succeeded in detecting a cardboard taste in a cake made from a mix.” Plunking the carton down on the dinette table, she gave him a defiant glare.

“Neither have I.” He had no idea what she had said, or what he was agreeing to. “This is a great kitchen. Wonderful view.” He set his platter of cookies on the dinette table before the dangerously tilted tray fell to the floor.

The dinette window looked toward the lake where darkness was settling in. Only three or four fingers of orange remained on the darkening water.

Leonie gave the view a cursory glance while she opened a cabinet door and located a pair of glasses. “It’s okay. I like the way the sun looks coming up between skyscrapers, myself.”

“You don’t really mean that,” he observed, remembering her peaceful enjoyment of the sunset a little earlier.

She brought the glasses to the table and regarded him with curiosity. “Why do you say that?”

For once in his life when dealing with a woman, Adam found himself totally at a loss. He covered his temporary amnesia by removing the foil wrap from his tray of cookies and pretending to inhale the fragrance.

“Do I look like a bird watcher or something?” She refused to let him off the hook.

“You look like a woman who appreciates beauty wherever she finds it,” he said at last, and was rewarded by her appreciative grin.

“That was fast thinking,” she approved. “I’m a city girl at heart, and you know it.”

“Do I?”

He knew Leonie Daniel lived and worked in Houston, but he didn’t know how she felt about it. Most of his colleagues in Dallas were always bemoaning their city existence and claimed they lived only for retirement when they intended to emigrate to a farm in the country.

“Anybody who’s lived in Washington, D.C. and likes it has to be a city girl at heart.” Leonie poured two glasses of milk and set one before him. “Sit down and have some cookies. You baked them, so you should get the first one, hot off the tray.”

She remembered her story tonight, Adam noted. He slid into the dinette, reached for a cookie and surreptitiously glanced at the bottom to make sure it wasn’t burnt.

“You must like something about this area,” he said. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have bought this cabin.”

“It’s an investment.” She slid into the seat opposite him and chose a cookie. “Everyone I know invests in vacation property as far away from D.C. as possible.”

“In that case, why not buy yourself a condo on Lake Tahoe?” he asked, grinning.

“My parents live in Shreveport,” she said with dignity. “They can drive here in half a day.”

He had to hand it to Zara’s little sister. She had prepared to field anything he threw at her. Either that or she was skilled at making things up as she went along. He suspected the truth was a combination of the two.

“You grew up in Shreveport?” He knew she hadn’t.

“I grew up in Crockett, Texas.” She chose another cookie. “It’s a small town in the East Texas piney woods region—”

“I know where Crockett is,” he interrupted, grinning. “I’ll bet you were the most popular girl in your high school.”

“No, I—” She broke off, overriding herself with, “Well, I was elected head cheerleader and homecoming queen, but you know how that goes in a small town.”

So. Leonie Daniel hadn’t been nearly as popular in high school as Zara. He wasn’t surprised. Zara had impressed him as a woman whom nobody ignored, including her high school class.

He watched, fascinated, as Leonie subjected the cookie platter to deep scrutiny before selecting her third cookie. Obviously, Leonie watched her calories all the way down. From the few things Zara had said on the subject of food, she considered it some sort of duty to count every calorie and work hard at keeping trim.

It was refreshing, he realized, to be with a woman who enjoyed eating, and who didn’t make him feel guilty about every gram of fat he ingested.

“I suppose you left Crockett when you went to college,” he said. “Where did you go to school?”

She laughed. “I went to the University of Texas, naturally. Would you like to hear all about my college career?”

He smiled agreeably. Nothing interested him less than hearing all about Zara Daniel’s college days. Leonie’s days, however, might have held him enthralled, but he figured he had little chance of hearing about them.

For a moment, he toyed with the idea of telling her he knew she wasn’t Zara. He discarded the thought because he was having too much fun with the situation as it stood.

“I’d better not ask,” he said. “Otherwise, I’d have to retaliate with a year by year account of my own college career. I wouldn’t want you to fall face down in these cookies I worked so hard to bake.”

She cast a chagrinned glance at the half-eaten cookie in her hand. “I forgot to thank you for these delicious cookies.”

“No thanks needed. It’s easy enough to see you’re getting the proper enjoyment from them.”

Leonie nodded with vigor and applied herself once more to the cookie. “Oh, I am. You don’t know how good something homemade tastes. I’ve been so busy lately I haven’t done anything in the kitchen beyond open the refrigerator for a glass of milk.”

“You’re on vacation,” Adam reminded her. “However, if you feel like reciprocating, I happen to like pecan cookies.”

He wondered if she’d take the hint. An interesting vision of how he’d like to thank her for the pecan cookies arose in his mind.

“I’ll have to rest up a while,” Leonie said. “Paint a few rocks, swim a few laps, watch a few more sunsets . . .”

“By all means.” He couldn’t help but laugh, she looked so wary. “I felt the same way, myself. Fortunately, I’ve been here a few days longer than you have.”

She put on a face of supreme understanding. “Believe me, I know exactly what you mean. The lake is so peaceful, it only takes a few days to feel thoroughly rested.”