The Look-Alike Bride (Crimson Romance) (3 page)

Butch glanced back at her then resumed his guardianship of the path.

“I don’t think he’ll be coming back this way for a while. We’d better make tracks while we still can.”

She could see why Zara fell for the man. He was a good six-feet-three-inches tall, lean and well-muscled, with thick, dark hair and a rugged face highlighted by straight, dark brows and arresting green eyes. Adam Silverthorne wasn’t classically handsome, but he was definitely all male, something Zara was bound to appreciate.

In fact, now that Leonie thought about it, Adam’s movements were similar to Zara’s, as if he’d spent long hours learning stealth and hand-to-hand combat techniques the way she had. That was probably why Zara was so attracted to him. Adam was the male counterpart of herself, a well-honed, covert agent for the United States Government.

Well, Leonie Daniel didn’t appreciate covert agents or their crazy schedules, and she knew better than to think she’d like being involved with a man who could be ordered at any moment into a dangerous country to do whatever terrible deed the government deemed necessary. Adam Silverthorne had nothing to fear from her. All she wanted was to get back to her own business.

Leonie burst from the woods and headed for the cabin, chuckling. If she didn’t know better, she’d have sworn Adam Silverthorne was scared of Zara. She couldn’t blame him. Her sister could be awfully determined, and she nearly always got what she wanted.

Still, Adam didn’t impress her as a pushover. If he didn’t want Zara, she had no doubt he’d make it known.

Maybe he disliked hurting women.

On top of that, he looked and sounded like a man who appreciated a good dog.

Leonie decided Adam was probably a very nice man, one she’d love to get to know better. But alas, he was like all the other men she met. Once a man belonged to Zara, he was Zara’s. He’d never want plain Leonie Daniel, the younger sister who enjoyed her quiet life and ordinary job and disliked the idea of too much excitement and danger.

Besides, Leonie wouldn’t dream of going after the only man she’d ever seen Zara really interested in. She focused on that thought and refused to allow herself to daydream of what would happen if a man like Adam ever fell in love with her instead of Zara. It would never happen, so why torture herself?

Leonie let herself into the cabin, relieved that she wasn’t followed, and reached for the telephone book. Perhaps she could call around and locate some crafts courses. Anything to create a vacation to remember where she might meet somebody who didn’t already know Zara.

• • •

Across the lake, in a small cove created by trees, two men in a bass boat held fishing poles with corks bobbing innocently on the water. The hooks, however, were not baited. The men had no interest in catching any of the perch or bass abounding in Lake Ouachita.

One held a pair of powerful binoculars, while the other manned a small, spotting scope. On the floor in a metal tackle box, powerful communications equipment waited.

“It’s her, all right. Zara Daniel,” the man with the scope said. “And she’s got a dog with her.”

“Are you sure it’s really her and not a double?”

“It’s either her or her twin sister.” He patted his scope. “This baby can pick out a dime in a gravel pit.”

“She has a sister, all right. A kid sister. But no twin.” The second man reached for the metal box. “I’ll notify Smith—just in case.” He lifted out a tiny cell phone. “This is a helluva job. Not anything like what I signed up for, if you want to know, but a paycheck’s a paycheck when the unemployment checks quit coming.”

“You got that right.” The scope man peered at the cabin. “Ugly dog.”

“I’ll tell Smith you said so.”

Leonie arose early the next morning and went for an invigorating swim in Lake Ouachita. Butch stood on the shoreline and watched her, as if he was afraid she might swim off and leave him, she realized, touched. She made it a point to call to him every few minutes.

In spite of her coaxing, Butch remained uninterested in joining her in the water. He minced carefully to the edge of the water, sniffed it, then backed off and examined his paws.

Leonie knew that some dogs loved water and some dogs didn’t, just as humans had likes and dislikes. Perhaps Butch was vain about his silky coat—or what had been a silky coat—and wanted to preserve his good grooming.

At last she returned to shore, breathing pleasantly fast. The problem with swimming in a lake was that there weren’t any markers to show how much distance she’d covered or how fast her crawl stroke had let her cover it. Alternatively, her surroundings were gorgeous, with distant, mist-shrouded mini-mountains and tree-covered, rocky shorelines. The real problem, Leonie figured, was that she was accustomed to marked lanes in swimming pools.

But the worst problem with swimming in a lake, no matter how pristine and beautiful, was that she was alone, except for Butch. It was mighty boring to have only herself for company. If it hadn’t been for Butch, she might have been reduced to carrying platters of homemade brownies to neighboring cabins in search of conversation.

A vision of Adam Silverthorne popped up in her mind. Leonie found herself blushing, chiefly because she hadn’t packed her own bathing suit, and she should have known she’d need it. All she wore were the two teensy scraps of black cloth Zara called a bikini. Leonie called it an eyeful—and so would anyone who saw her in it.

Leonie had half a mind to photograph herself in the bikini and send it to her parents on the grounds that Zara needed a good lecture about her clothing. Flashy was one thing, but deliberately provocative was another, and their mother would be happy to point out the difference to Zara.

Of course, Leonie wouldn’t actually send a photo, but it was fun to think about. She couldn’t help but realize Zara had probably bought the bikini to entice Adam Silverthorne. Too bad Adam wasn’t around to appreciate the view.

Blushing again, Leonie admitted that, although she was glad Adam wasn’t around to see her in Zara’s extremely abbreviated bikini, she would certainly have welcomed his company. In fact, she couldn’t wait to get dressed and head into Hot Springs to find the church Zara claimed to attend when she was at the lake. In a church, she could strike up conversations with the other worshipers. She’d be with other people for a while, and that was what counted. Since no one in Hot Springs knew Zara other than by sight, she could behave a little more like herself.

This lakeside vacation business was fine for one night, but any longer than that, and things got lonely for a city girl who had a lot of friends and activities and was used to being surrounded by other human beings.

• • •

Adam Silverthorne stood in the shadows of the trees and watched the silver-haired goddess rise from the water. Zara chased him constantly when she was around, but in spite of that, he couldn’t stop staring. No man, he excused himself, could deny she was a stunning woman.

He watched her speak to her dog, the ugliest collie he had ever seen in his life, and scratch behind the animal's ears lovingly. The dog gazed up adoringly at her. Adam couldn’t blame him. Then she tossed a towel over her shoulder and walked toward her cabin, one hand resting on the collie’s head.

Adam’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t even walk the way Zara usually did, with that graceful, in-and-out glide common to martial-arts students of many years’ standing. She walked the way an ordinary, athletic woman would walk, with grace and control, but the glide was missing.

Something was up with Zara Daniel. The more Adam thought about it, the more curious he grew to find out what was going on. Since he’d completed his work last night, he figured he had a little time before starting on his next project. The question was how could he go about checking Zara out so she wouldn’t think he was interested in her?

Lately, Zara had begun attending the same church he did, no doubt as another means of crossing his path as often as possible. He’d even debated attending another church in order to avoid her.

Coming face to face with Zara in church was a lot safer than meeting her on a secluded path in the woods, he decided.

Many people favored casual dress at church during the summer resort season in Hot Springs, but Adam had been reared by strict, old-fashioned parents who believed in wearing one’s best clothing. He donned the one suit he’d brought along for his week’s stay at the lake and hopped into his open Jeep. If the woman in Zara’s cabin was the real Zara Daniel, she would be right behind him.

She was, more or less. About ten minutes after he’d arrived and chosen a seat in the church sanctuary where he’d be screened from general view, Zara came hesitantly down the aisle, glancing up at the stained glass windows as if this was the first time she’d been inside the church.

Adam stared. Never had he seen Zara look so diffident. Not that she appeared that way to most observers, but he was familiar with the brassy, almost comically overdone way she usually flaunted herself and her charms. This woman looked and behaved the way—he frowned, puzzled—a quiet, unassuming woman would. Except for the short white dress she wore that accentuated her long, tanned legs and hugged her shapely bottom, that is. Every male eye in the church watched her appreciatively.

The service hadn’t begun yet; people still entered and settled into pews, Curious, Adam waited until she had chosen a seat beside the aisle, then rose and approached her. No doubt he’d be sorry, but he couldn’t wait another minute to find out what was going on with Zara. He sincerely hoped she hadn’t been injured in the line of duty.

She never noticed him, she was so busy studying the sanctuary and smiling at people. Definitely, something was up. Adam had to lean over her in order to get her attention. When he finally did, she didn’t appear particularly thrilled to see him.

“Good morning, Miss Daniel,” he said with the formal courtesy he was always careful to use around Zara. “Is this seat taken?”

She blinked at him, clearly startled. “What?”

“This seat.” He pointed to the empty spot beside her. “Is it taken?”

“I don’t think so.” She actually turned to look at the vacant spot on the pew.

She appeared so dumbfounded, Adam almost laughed aloud. Before she could decide the seat was taken, he slid in front of her and sat down beside her. The moment he was ensconced, she stared at him the way she would a water moccasin.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, unable to keep from smiling. “Did I forget to wipe off a big spot of shaving soap?”

“Of course not,” she said faintly. “I was just—” She stopped and seemed to gather herself. “I mean, I was surprised to see you, that’s all.”

This version of Zara Daniel didn’t know him. That much was clear. He decided to have some real fun, and perhaps find out what was going on at the same time.

“I don’t see why,” he said. “After all, we’re having lunch together. Remember?”

Her eyes went wide, but she recovered quickly. “I’m sorry. I thought that was canceled. My mistake, obviously. Where are we going?”

Adam had to hand it to her. She had neatly turned the tables on him. Now he had committed himself to a lunch date with her, something he’d sworn he’d never be trapped into. He searched his mind quickly for the most crowded and unromantic lunch spot in Hot Springs.

“We’re going to the cafeteria with the rest of the after-church crowd, where else?” He smiled with an effort, wondering what this was going to lead to, and reached for a hymnal. “It’s about the only place capable of serving dozens of people within fifteen minutes after all the churches let out on Sunday mornings.”

“Oh.” Zara reached for a hymnal, also. “That sounds wonderful.”

She looked so cautious, Adam wondered what she really thought.

“Where’s Butch?” he asked.

“Butch is still in the cabin,” she said. “He’s really insulted about being left behind. Maybe I’d better order something especially for him so I can get back into his good graces.”

She looked more natural, suddenly, and Adam knew it was because she considered the dog a familiar subject, one she knew how to discuss.

“What’s happened to you?" he asked. “You act as if you don’t know who I am. Have you been injured?”

She hesitated over that one, he saw. He could almost follow her thoughts by watching the play of emotion over her lovely, expressive face.

Funny, but he’d never realized her eyes were so deeply blue. Zara had certainly given him the big-eyed gaze often enough that he should know the exact shade of her eyes.

“As a matter of fact,” she said carefully, “I did take quite a blow on the head last week. I was riding in a car that got into a dispute with another car over the . . . right of way.”

She was lying. He knew that instantly, just as he knew Zara Daniel was so good at her job, any lie she told would have been more believable than the truth.

Adam studied her far more closely than he’d ever studied Zara before. What amused him was the realization that his scrutiny made her uncomfortable. The Zara he knew would have studied him back boldly.

Except for the furious blush and the averted gaze, she looked exactly like Zara, beautifully sculpted bone structure and all. She had the same high cheekbones and arched brows, not to mention the sweetly bowed upper lip and the long, thick lashes. Her jawline, however, wasn’t quite as defined as Zara’s, and her eyes were a darker blue. Also—he looked closely at her hairline—her tan came from a tanning spray instead of the sun or a tanning salon.

He wondered who she was. Zara’s twin sister, he supposed. Nobody in the Hot Springs area knew Zara even had a sister, much less an identical twin.

“I’m sorry to hear you were in an accident,” he said. “Did you have to go to the hospital?”

“Luckily, no.” She seemed wary of even his most innocent statements. “I just banged my head on the dash, that’s all.”

“Let’s test your memory,” he said. “Who am I?”

She gave him a suspicious, sidewise glance from beneath her lashes. “Adam Silverthorne, of course.”

Zara would have given him a smart-alecky reply. This woman definitely wasn’t Zara Daniel.