Falling for the Wrong Twin (7 page)

“What? No, I called Carlos. Head of security for Rick’s team. He texted me about twenty minutes ago that you were legit and that someone else lifted that photo from you and sold it to the site pretending it was Rick.” He showed her his phone but she barely even looked.

“I get it. Nico is head of security for the Hawks.”

“The what?”

“It’s a tv show-
-Necessary Roughness
--it doesn’t matter. I just think it’s funny that there really is a Nico--Carlos--and he checked me out.”

He frowned at her a moment, then abruptly stiffened. He knew he was over-reacting but he couldn’t seem to help himself. “A tv show? Do you think this is a joke? That my family’s safety is--”

“Relax Rambo! I don’t think this is a joke. I adore your family and would never hurt them.”

“You don’t even know them. You’ve been here an hour tops.”

She huffed out a breath, but her eyes were still dancing. “I don’t have to be here long to see that you’re in overprotective, new head of the family mode. That you’re freaking out about your sister, in over your head with the toddlers, and no one is helping you.” She leaned over, used her fork to grab a bite of quiche, then leaned back as she nibbled on it in the most distracting way. “You’re forgiven Rambo. So relax. Get some quiche which real men do eat, by the way, and I swear I’ll try not to upset anyone while I’m waiting for my clunker car to get fixed.”

He glared at her, trying to intimidate her in some way. Not that he wanted to stare her down. He just needed to feel some measure of control over this unexpected, uninvited but thoroughly disconcerting newcomer.

He failed. She wasn’t intimidated. Instead, she just nibbled at her too large bite of quiche and waited for him to give in.

He did so with a grumble. Then he grabbed his fork and stabbed the damn breakfast food. He hauled up a piece of quiche and all but threw it into his mouth, obliterating it with a hard chomps.

“Feel better?” she asked after he’d had another four massive bites.

He shot her a disgruntled look. “Yes, I do. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Then she offered up her mug. “Want some coffee?”

He did actually. Desperately. Without thinking about what he was doing, he took the mug from her hand. Their fingers brushed only briefly, but the heat of her skin lingered in his mind. Then he did something completely unfathomable. He held her mug between them and carefully twisted it around until he saw the faintest outline of her lipstick on the ceramic.

Then he slowly, deliberately put his mouth right there--right where she’d been drinking--and sipped. And in that moment when his mouth touched the place hers had been, he let the walls down. He stopped being Mr. Protective and slid over into I’m-Attracted-To-You. It was a conscious choice, and as he let his interest show in every line of his body, he watched for her reaction.

He saw her eyes widen in surprise and her skin flush rosy. No more frappuccino. Now she was a rose colored candy he’d loved as a child. And she wet her lips before looking away. As if she understood the message but was completely thrown by it. Which was just bizarre given her beauty. It can’t have been the first time that two brothers went for her. Jesus, it sure as hell wasn’t the first time he and his twin had wanted the same girl.

Then he shuttered his desire, flipped from Attraction to Neutral while the truth hit him broadside. She wasn’t a stalker. She was a flesh and blood woman who was hopefully attracted to him but unsure what to do about it.

It was probably better that way. It’s not like he could seduce a woman while his brother slept in the same room with him. So he pulled the mug away and held it out to her.

“Thank you,” he said, his voice thick with lust. “I really needed that.”

She didn’t answer, though she did take the mug from his hands, careful to avoid touching him.

He frowned, confused. “What? No come back? No quick, flirty tease?”

She shook her head, suddenly mute.

Oh hell, had he misjudged? Had he just flipped into the stalker and her the innocent prey? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I--”

“No, no,” she said abruptly as she stood up from her seat. “I think I…um…I’ve got some calls to make. Cancellations and the like.” She gestured awkwardly at the rain. “It’s not like I’m going to make to Chicago anytime soon.”

He opened his mouth to reassure her. To say that the rain could let up any moment and she’d be off seeing the Chicago skyline within the hour. He never got the chance. She slipped around her seat and disappeared before he’d managed to say her name.

Chapter 5

Anna spent the day hiding. She wasn’t exactly sure why. She kept thinking of the way Mike had sipped from her coffee mug. It wasn’t that he put his lip to the exact spot that she drank from, though that was intimate enough. It was the look in his eye as he’d done it.

There had been desire in his eyes. Not just the hey, you’re a cute girl type of desire. For a few brief moments, the look had been hungry, part desperate, and wholly consuming. As if he kept his normal sexual nature completely hidden. Except at that moment, he had opened the shutters long enough to let her see--however briefly--that he would be a total lover. Someone who took her completely and left nothing behind.

That had shaken her. She told herself it was disconcerting to set her sights on one brother only to have the other one—the evil suspicious one, no less—look at her like he wanted to eat her alive. Flirting was one thing, the steady dance of attraction was easy. What he’d done was flipped from zero to ten thousand in the space of a breath, and she’d panicked. It had been so powerful and she had felt so vulnerable beneath that gaze. And yet, she’d been excited too. Her nipples had tightened, her belly had unfurled in warm waves of reception, and her heart had sped up to triple time. It all happened so fast that she hadn’t been able to process it. So she’d run. And hid. And now she was feeling stupid.

First off, what she imagined couldn’t possibly be true. No man hid a nature that passionate. Second, even if he was like that, then would he really have focused it on her? She was attractive and all, but they’d barely met and he’d spent most of that time thinking she was a crazy stalker. It wasn’t possible, and she was an imaginative weenie.

Which meant that when it came time for dinner, she made her way downstairs and was greeted by the whole clan. There were twelve in all—a big, happy family—and an ache of yearning stole her breath. She covered by looking for Rick. She could fit herself into the group through him. But instead of the soccer star, Mike caught her attention. He was sitting on the floor playing cars with little Henry. They’d built an obstacle course of books and pencils and he was now trying to wedge himself beneath an end table as he tried to engineer a make-shift ramp. It was the sight of first his massive shoulders, then his head coming out from between spindly table legs that made her chuckle. He looked rumpled and uncomfortable, and yet absolutely determined to construct…something. She wasn’t really sure what.

“Try that,” he said to Henry who released a toy truck and laughed as it did a funky hop before flying down the ramp to slam into Rick’s shoulder. Oh, there he is, she thought. And yet even as she moved to the athlete, her gaze stayed with Mike. He was the identical twin to Rick, and yet she found his rumpled jeans and tight tee much more appealing than his brother’s sleek Dior shirt.

She considered this, still thrown that her libido was picking the grumpy twin over the athlete. Then Mike saw her standing there. His eyes turned dark and haunting for a moment. Not like he was haunted. More like he had a secret part of him that he uncovered—just for a moment—to center completely on her.

Attention, she realized. It was what she’d been talking to Rick about at breakfast. Mike was giving her all his focus in absolute promise. Come to me, he said. Come to me and you will be surprised by what you uncover. And thrilled. And totally overwhelmed.

She crossed to his side without even realizing she’d moved.

“Anna, there you are!” Aunt Tilde cried. “I’ve been waiting all day to talk to you.”

Anna watched as a grimace of frustration crossed Mike’s expression. Same one probably flitted across hers. But then she turned to smile at the elderly lady. Two minutes later she was sitting next to the woman and talking celebrities while Mike started constructing a bridge over an epic fantasy tome. Anna maintained a lively conversation—dredging up all the gossip she knew that was important to the sixty plus set—while she watched Mike contort all over the floor in the service of Henry’s construction project. The man was certainly nice to look at. Sure, he might appear better in tailored pants and a designer shirt, but she found she could admire his ass in faded jeans just as well. And the tee outlined his chest muscles beautifully.

Eventually, the party shifted to watching a movie and everyone gathered around the latest Bourne installment. It was fun and comfortable for her as she settled on the couch beside Aunt Dee. And though her gaze frequently shifted to Mike, nothing unsettling occurred. He treated her with the same causal friendliness he had with his adult cousins or their twin boys. At least Rick engaged in a casual flirtation with her. Nothing salacious, just friendly with a hint of something more if she was interested.

She wanted to be interested in Rick. That was her plan, after all. But now that she’d been so warmly welcomed into the fold, she found she liked the family atmosphere more than she wanted to get hot and heavy with a star athlete. Worse, all Rick’s flirtatious teasing paled in comparison to those two intensely personal exchanges with Mike. So she flirted impersonally with Rick and tried not to be hyper-aware of Mike. All lust, she told herself, should be directed at the super-spy on the flat screen.

It almost worked too until she left the party and headed for bed. She was asleep within ten minutes of hitting the mattress.

And then she dreamed…

…

She was running for her life in the chaotic marketplace of some middle eastern country. It didn’t really matter where except that as a blonde super-spy, she stood out clearly amid all the dark hair and darker complexioned natives. She also didn’t speak a word of their language, though their angry gestures as she tore through were clear enough.

She was looking for a car--any car--so long as she could drive it hard, fast, and very far away. Maybe she could carjack someone. She felt around for her gun only to discover that she didn’t have one. Hell, she didn’t even have a purse, and for some reason, she wasn’t wearing any shoes.

That was weird, but at least she wasn’t in four inch stilettos.

She careened around a stall and spotted an alleyway. Making a swift decision, she sprinted to the dark brick hoping the bad guys would think she was embroiled in the maze of stalls. Better yet, the narrow path was clear of people and she could run faster, her feet making quiet splashes in the dark pools of rainwater.

Rainwater? When had she gone from the Middle East to gaslit London? Good lord, she thought in irritation, the least her dream state could do was stay consistent.

She thought the words, even tried to infuse the irreverence into her dream, but she failed utterly. She was trying to capture an emotional distance from her nightmare, but her heart was still pounding, her feet were burning from the cuts from the rough cobblestone alley, and--

She was gripped high on her arm and whipped at super-sonic speed straight at a doorway. Where had that opening come from? She didn’t know but she was being flattened into its dark recesses, her back landing with a thud that rattled her teeth.

“Shhhh,” said a low voice that was half whisper, half growl.

“I didn’t say anything,” she groused back in a low whisper. Who the hell had grabbed her anyway? All she could see was a dark silhouette against the full moon, though she felt every inch of the man’s powerful body as he pressed it tight against her.

Wait--hadn’t it been burning daylight in the marketplace?

Then the silhouette turned to her, and his eyes burned red in the darkness.

Uh…vampire? Seriously?

She wasted barely a moment considering that and decided she liked the way her dream was going. Vampire heroes could be fun. Unless, of course, this was a bad vampire dream. She had to admit to being a Dracula aficionado, so he could be the evil one too. Either way, she wasn’t going anywhere right then. He had her pinned against the wall.

She was about to ask something important--she wasn’t sure what. She really wanted to know if he was the sparkly kind of vampire or the evil denizen of the deeps kind. But just as she opened her mouth, she heard a flurry of heavy steps pounding down the alleyway.

She adjusted her body, shrinking as deep into the darkness as possible while her vampire protector pressed even closer. Broad chest, tight belly, and a darkness so complete against him that she felt completely obliterated in it. Shit. She so did not like that.

Then she heard the footsteps slow. She counted four maybe five pairs. It was hard to tell over the harsh sound of her own panting breaths. And God, the heat was intense there against vampire boy’s chest.

A sudden spate of bad guy talk--all in a language she didn’t understand--and more taut silence. Then the footsteps began to recede back up the alleyway. Good. They were retreating.

She exhaled in relief, her body sagging against the brick, but dark hero kept her standing. She remained firmly locked against his body, and frankly she was okay with that.

Then it happened. One of the retreating bad guys stopped. His footsteps halted and she heard the soft splash of him coming back their way. They were going to be caught.

She looked up at the vampire’s face and saw him gazing down at her, his red eyes strangely mesmerizing. She knew what he was thinking. It was time for that kiss in the dark alcove, the pretend-to-be-lovers so the bad guy thinks they’re just an embracing couple. Nothing to see, no one important.

“Fuck that!” she said as she abruptly shoved her vampire backwards.

He stumbled away and she ducked and twisted, coming out into the alley with her fists raised and her…well, she was still barefoot, but that made her footing more solid on the slick cobblestones, right?