Twins times two! (12 page)

They might not have love.

But they did have this.

She held on to him more tightly, drawing from his strength. Would passion be enough? Could a marriage based on convenience really last?

"Yo! Ross!"

The shout caused them to break apart like guilty teenagers. Ross was the first to react. Raking his fingers through his hair, he called, "In here, Tony."

But when he looked at Cara, it was as if he was saying, "Later."

Later?

For what?

Chapter Nine

To Cara's infinite surprise, the pizza hadn't been delivered to their door by a teenage delivery boy but by a large Italian with a booming laugh.

"Paesano!"

"Tony, this is my wife, Cara. Cara, this is Tony Palermo, my daughters' godfather."

"Wife!" The burly man's surprise couldn't have been clearer. "Why didn't you tell me you were getting married?"

Cara was wondering the same thing. If this was the children's godfather, why hadn't he been invited to their wedding?

"We wanted to keep things simple and quiet, so we eloped this afternoon."

Tony's laughter boomed through the small room. "That explains why we weren't invited." He grinned at Cara. "My Graziella is a wonderful

woman and a heavenly cook, but she's a born gossip. If you give her a piece of news, she'll have it spread all over town in a heartbeat."

Tony set the insulated carriers down on the table and enfolded Cara in a quick hug.

"Congratulations to both of you!" As Tony released Cara, he pointed a finger in Ross's direction. "It looks like you finally took my advice and found a woman to brighten up the place."

Ross grimaced good-naturedly and began unloading the insulated bags.

"First thing you do, Cara, is slap a coat of paint on these walls."

Ahh, a soul mate. Evidently Cara wasn't the only one who found Ross's decorating austere.

"I take it you're a frequent visitor."

Laughing, Tony slapped Ross on the back. "She hasn't caught on to you yet, has she?" He winked at Cara. ' 'He and the twins give me a call at least three or four times a week. They don't much like the housekeeper's cooking, if the truth is known."

"Now, Tony," Ross protested.

Tony winked at Cara. "I come often enough to have my own key card to the security gate—and if that isn't a telling detail, I don't know what is. Even the housekeeper doesn't have one of those."

"Tony..."

Tony interrupted whatever Ross had been about

to say with another booming laugh. Then he began flipping box lids open to reveal the food he'd brought with him. The first box held a large pizza, smothered—not with goat cheese and pine nuts as she'd feared—but pepperoni, ham and sausage. A smaller container held a loaf of garlic bread, and yet another sack had a plastic bowl with a green salad tossed in vinaigrette.

As Cara settled into her seat, it was Tony who disappeared into the kitchen to return with plates, utensils and glasses. Ross soon followed with bottles of soft drinks, and all three of them sat around the table.

"So you and Ross are old friends?" Cara asked, her mood improving by the minute as the heavenly aromas promised her a real treat.

"He saved my life."

"Hardly."

Tony waved aside Ross's protest.

"He did. Honest."

"I merely handled your sister's divorce."

"And if you hadn't, I would have killed the bastard she'd married, so there you are. I would have been given a life sentence at the very least."

Tony grinned, watching as Cara took her first bite of pizza. The expression on her face must have been enough to convince him that she had never tasted anything better, because he continued.

"Since I'm the children's godfather, I drop by on a regular basis to make sure they're eating properly. Those little girls are the highlight of my day. But then, you probably know all about their antics, don't you, Cara?"

She paused while scooping a forkful of salad toward her mouth. "I've only met Ross's children once."

Tony's brows rose and some of his humor vanished. "Really? I would have thought—" He looked at Ross for an explanation.

"We were married rather suddenly. We haven't known each other for very long."

"How sudden was this courtship?"

"Less than a week."

Tony wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned back in his chair, his eyes wide and his mouth parted in astonishment. His gaze bounced from Ross to Cara, then back to his friend, and some of the joy disappeared beneath open curiosity.

"So what's the scoop?"

Ross looked at Cara before continuing, but she didn't object to having Tony know the truth. It would be best that those closest to them know everything from the beginning.

"Cara has a set of twins, as well."

Ross reached into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, removing the picture of his own twins and one

of Cara's. Then he set the two photographs in front of Tony.

"We thought a marriage between us might be the best solution."

Tony was speechless for several long minutes. Finally he lifted the pictures, squinting at one and then the other.

"I don't understand," he finally said.

"Neither do we. As near as we can tell the twins were switched sometime in the hospital."

"It's amazing." Tony looked up again. "You're not just pulling my leg, are you?"

Ross shook his head.

"So you decided to marry to take care of things?"

"It seemed the easiest way."

Tony took a deep breath and chuckled again. "Simpler, maybe, but I wouldn't say easy. No marriage is easy. It takes work. It always takes work."

He handed the pictures back to Ross, then jerked his thumb in the direction of the window. "Am I to assume that it's your marriage that's responsible for that mob at the gate?"

Ross shook his head. "Somehow they got word of the twins, but not our marriage. Not yet, anyhow."

Tony rolled his eyes. "And here I was thinking

you must have got hired to handle another messy divorce."

Cara's eyes widened at the comment. No wonder Ross hadn't come unglued at the sight of the reporters still swarming around his front gates. Judging by Tony's words, the situation wasn't entirely new to Ross.

Which meant she had just inherited a similar relationship with the media, whether she liked it or not.

The edge of her hunger disappeared as Cara realized there was still so much she didn't know about her husband.

How many more surprises waited in the wings?

"Yep," Tony said, interrupting her thoughts, "a marriage takes work." Tony murmured again, more to himself than to Cara and Ross, "It always takes work."

A marriage takes work. It always takes work.

The words came back to haunt Cara when Tony eventually gathered the empty containers, offered Cara a huge bear hug, then drove away into the night amid the burps and groans of his ancient delivery van.

Cara sighed as she watched Tony disappear. The quiet evening gathered around her and she willed herself to stay relaxed. After all, the night sky was

filled with stars and the cool breeze brought with it the heady perfume of flowers from the garden.

But try as she might, Cara couldn't help feeling as if she'd been plunked down in the middle of Oz. She didn't belong here. She wasn't a woman who was comfortable with any display of ostentation. She'd tried that life and it hadn't worked. What made her think that she would be any better at it now?

"It's a beautiful night."

Ross's low comment slid over her like a silken caress.

"Yes. Yes, it's lovely."

It was their wedding night and the two of them had been left alone at this fairy-tale castle as if they were in need of a proper honeymoon.

The thought made her shiver, but not from the cool breeze. There had been no pretence offered with their marriage of convenience. So why had everyone insisted that they spend the evening alone like passionate newlyweds? She would have preferred having the children nearby. Noisy, boisterous, loving children. Maybe then it wouldn't have seemed so...lonely.

Suddenly, there was a sparkle of light deep in the trees, then another.

"What was that?" Cara asked, realizing that it

had come from a point near the front security gates.

"A flash. Some fool is trying to take flash pictures from hundreds of yards away."

Which meant there were at least a dozen other journalists who weren't so foolish, filming them even now with telephoto lenses or night vision.

She wrapped her arms around her and shivered despite the warmth of the evening. "Surely they know that we're married now. Isn't their story over?"

"The story won't be over until we settle into a dull predictable routine. I'd guess they're waiting around to see if the marriage appears to be a happy one or to document any unpleasantness that might occur after such a hasty match. Then there's the matter of the children. They're hoping to get shots of the reunion as well as their everyday play."

The mere thought of all those prying eyes made Cara feel suddenly weary. "I wish they would go away."

"They will. Eventually. Once they've discovered that they are wasting their time peering at a normal, mundane family."

Normal family. Right. A normal family who lived in a castle complete with married strangers and two sets of identical twins who were switched at birth.

'I've been through media storms before," Ross continued on. "It's best to ignore the reporters, let them get their pictures and their facts. We might even issue a press release or conduct a short interview with one of the more trusted national affiliates. When that's through, our lives will be our own."

So why didn't Cara believe him? Why didn't she think that the press would give up so quickly? Was it because she had her own doubts about the solidity of their marriage of convenience?

Stop it. You've only been Ross's wife for a few hours. You can't start doubting yet.

Suddenly, Cara was filled with an anger at the reporters who waited like vultures on the other side of the security wall. She was angry at their willingness to provide the world with sensational news—news that came at Cara's expense, and her children's.

44 Why don't we give them something to report about," she said lowly, turning to Ross.

44 What?"

It was clear his mind had already moved on to other things, but Cara didn't let that dissuade her. Her hands slid up his chest and hooked around his neck, pulling him toward her.

"They want pictures, so let's give them pictures." Then she was pressing her lips to Ross's.

Ross's surprise lasted only a minute. Then his own arms slid around her waist and drew her against him, tightly, completely—so much so that she felt as if they were two halves to a whole.

But if they had thought to offer a performance for the media, their own desire soon swamped anything but the need to touch, to caress, to kiss. With a moan, Ross's mouth opened, and their kisses grew immediately hungry and wild as they strained against one another.

Ross's arms slid low beneath her hips, lifting her against him. Gasping for breath, she arched her head back, but Ross wasn't dissuaded. Instead, he began to string kisses down the sensitive column of her neck to the hollow at the base of her throat.

She gasped when a molten heat pooled in her belly. No man had ever inspired such an instantaneous passion in her. Ross had only to touch her and she was on fire. It wasn't fair. No man should have such power over her. She should have the will to resist him.

But you don't want to resist, her conscience whispered—and it was true. In Ross's embrace, she felt like a whole woman, one who was desirable, powerful, and needed.

Needed. Elliot had never made her feel needed. She'd been a living prop to him, not a wife. As she bent to kiss Ross again, she realized that de-

spite their unconventional marriage, she felt more of a part of this man's life than she ever had with Elliot

In one smooth movement, Ross bent and slid his arms beneath Cara's knees. Then he was carrying her into the house and shutting the door with his shoulder.

A part of her knew that her defenses were weakening. But she couldn't seem to remember why she should resist him. Not when her body was on fire and her pulse raced. She supposed that she should have more pride, that she should stick up for herself and her insistence on a platonic relationship. But at this point, she didn't care. She merely wanted the madness to continue.

Ross shifted her in his arms, setting her feet on the ground. With his hands on either side of her, he kissed her deeply, intimately, his body straining against hers. Then, just as suddenly, he broke away.

It took several moments for Cara to realize that it wasn't Ross who held her upright, but the thick carved panels of the door. Rather than being held in Ross's embrace, she was alone. He stood several yards away from her, his back turned in her direction.

4 'That should give them something to splash on

their front covers," he muttered breathing hard, his voice hoarse.

Cara bit her lip, infinitely hurt. Was that all the embrace had been to him? A means to fight back at the media?

No. There had to be more to it than that.

But then again, why should she think that Ross had felt anything more than a burst of passion? After all, it had been her idea that they kiss for the media, not his. For all she knew, he hadn't wanted to kiss her at all. Could she really blame him now if he'd had enough?

Yes. Because I want him to feel more. I want him to feel as completely swept away as I was.

Shame filled her soul when Cara acknowledged to herself that if Ross had continued to carry her up the carved staircase to one of the bedrooms above, she wouldn't have offered an argument. She would have willingly made love to him, thereby breaking her own vow to keep their relationship purely a matter of convenience.

Was she really that desperate? Was she really that hungry for companionship that she would jump into bed with the first man who made such overtures?

But with a sinking heart, she was forced to admit that not just any man would do. In the space of little more than a week, she had grown to care for