The Look-Alike Bride (Crimson Romance) (6 page)

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Leonie couldn’t believe she was conducting such a ridiculous conversation in Zara’s cabin kitchen with a man like Adam Silverthorne. Worse, she knew Zara probably baked cookies just as she did everything else, with exactitude and perfection.

Leonie, on the other hand, wasn’t much of a baker. The oven had to be watched too closely, and cookies burned if you left them in the heat half a second too long. That was why she stocked her refrigerator with grapes and other fruits that needed only washing. Fruit she could handle, even if it needed peeling.

If Adam wanted cookies, he’d get a fruit basket—if she really went so far as to reciprocate, and if he was crazy enough to want her to.

She shot him another suspicious glance from beneath her lashes and prayed to hear from Zara that night. Obviously, Adam and Zara had a lot more going on between them than Zara had seen fit to mention. Either that, or Adam had, for some reason, waited until now to make his move on Zara.

What wonderful timing, Leonie grumbled to herself. She was collecting on something owed to Zara, and Zara was not going to be happy. Leonie couldn’t blame her.

But Zara was a fair woman. Surely, she’d realize neither she nor Leonie had any control over when or how Adam chose to exhibit his interest.

Leonie cheered up. Perhaps Zara would be so excited to learn Adam was interested, she’d forgive Leonie for inadvertently receiving his attentions.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Adam asked.

Leonie flushed. “I’m sorry. I was thinking of something else.” She shoved back her chair and almost pushed it over backwards in her haste to rise. “Would you like some more milk?”

“I’m crushed. A beautiful woman looks at me and thinks of something else.” He laughed outright. “It’s probably my aftershave. I’ll have to find another brand.”

Leonie turned away so he wouldn’t see her face looking like a tomato. “Switch to Old Spice cologne. No woman can resist it.” She opened the refrigerator door and leaned inside in hopes the coolness would reduce the glow of her heated cheeks.

“Maybe I’ll investigate an expensive designer cologne.”

“I don’t know, Adam.” She turned back with a fresh milk carton in her hand. “You might look awfully funny with all those gorgeous women hanging on your arms.” Her gaze fell on Butch, who had come to stand in his dignified way in the kitchen door. “Hello, boy. Have you come to sample the cookies?”

Butch ignored her. His gaze was fixed on the window beyond Adam with such intensity, Leonie frowned and followed his gaze. Her eyes widened and she almost dropped the milk carton.

“There’s someone out there,” she gasped.

Adam jerked his head around. “I don’t see anyone.”

Butch growled a deep, rumbling threat and appeared to bristle.

“Out there near the pier.” She dropped the carton on the table and rushed to look out the window. “It was a man. I’m sure of it.”

Adam’s tone was deep and calming. “It probably was a man. People walk along the lakeshore all the time, you know, especially in the evenings.”

“It’s late,” Leonie reminded him. “And he wasn’t walking. He was just standing there, looking in at us.”

Butch gave a sharp, short bark.

“And Butch doesn’t like it,” she added. “Maybe I should open the door and let him check it out.”

“If it’s a dangerous marauder,” Adam said gently to let her know he was sure it wasn’t, “Butch could get hurt. If it’s a neighbor taking his nightly stroll by the lake, you may wind up being sued over dog bites.”

“Butch wouldn’t bite anybody who didn’t deserve it.” Leonie promptly decided against letting the dog out. She didn’t know what she’d do if poor Butch was hurt by a hostile stranger.

“I’ll go out and see who it is,” Adam said, sliding out of the dinette. “Pour me another glass of that milk. I’ll need it after I finish subduing this prowler.”

Leonie made a face at his back. This was just what she needed to make her vacation complete—a peeping Tom at her window and a man who made fun of her concerns.

When Adam reached the door, Butch followed and tried to beat him outside. Adam opened the door a crack and slipped through, shutting the door in the dog’s face.

Butch whined and looked back at Leonie.

“Sorry, boy.” She stood helplessly at the door, scratching the collie’s ears and wishing Adam would come back inside. “He’s gone out there to prove we’re a bunch of wimps and worrywarts. I say we eat all the cookies and drink all the milk while he’s gone. What about it?”

Butch wasn’t interested. He continued to stand with his long, white-and-orange nose pressed between the crack in the door and the door frame.

Leonie sighed. “You would turn out to be a dog devoted to duty. And you probably don’t like sweets, either. Why is it I’m always surrounded by paragons of virtue?”

Butch whined and pawed at the door, then looked back at her.

“Sorry, boy. Adam’s right. It’s probably just a neighbor on his nightly stroll, and you’d get us sued if you roughed him up for trespassing.”

She wanted to believe it, but the brief glimpse she’d caught left her with a definite impression of someone who was interested in watching the goings-on in her kitchen. The thought made her both angry and scared.

Wait until she heard from Zara. She’d have a few things to say about the so-called “safety” of this job.

The door opened, and Adam had to shove Butch back before he could enter. The dog practically quivered in his eagerness to get outside.

“There’s no one out there,” Adam reported, in tones that said, “I told you so.”

Leonie looked at Butch. “Butch has sharper senses than we do, and he says there was somebody out there.”

“Well, he’s not out there now.” Adam took her arm and gently turned her toward the kitchen.

“No footprints? No dropped cigarette butts?”

“It’s a rocky shoreline.” He grinned at her. “If you’re worried, close the curtains. You’ll lose your view of the lake by moonlight, but you won’t be plagued by mysterious watchers.”

Leonie grumbled, but she knew Adam was right. If she wanted to avoid trouble, she needed to close the curtains.

So much, she decided, for Zara’s beautiful view of the lake.

Leonie went for her usual early morning swim the next morning, thankful she had a large dog present to watch over her. In spite of Adam’s assurances the night before, she remained convinced somebody had been spying on her.

Butch sat on shore watching her. With him on guard, Leonie knew she would be alerted if his sharp senses detected someone, so she ought to feel safe. Somehow, she didn’t. The sensation that somebody still watched her kept her so distracted, she could hardly swim her usual distance.

While she swam, she peered in all directions, studying the tree-covered shoreline, early morning boaters, and even going so far as to study the sky for blimps, drones, and other silent aircrafts. Not even her own good sense served to convince her she wasn’t under surveillance, not when she kept having this primitive urge to whirl around and catch the peeping Tom in the act.

Naturally, no one appeared interested in her. Two big motorboats cruised by, towing water skiers. A bass boat hovered in a cove across the lake, with one man assiduously casting his fly toward the shore, but he was so far away, he couldn’t see her without binoculars. The shorelines continued to hide whatever secrets lurked among the thick trees, and Butch remained calm.

Leonie gave up and swam for shore. The only thing she was sure of this morning was that she was making a trip to the nearest department store after her rock-painting class was finished. Wearing Zara’s skimpy bikini was enough to give any woman a sensation of being watched.

“Come on, boy,” she told Butch with a confidence she was far from feeling. “We’re going to learn how to paint flowers. At least no one will be paying any attention to us at the crafts mall.”

She’d see to that. She’d wear her own jeans and a T-shirt to the class. After all, she didn’t want to get any paint on Zara’s beautiful clothing, she told herself virtuously. Her own clothes weren’t nearly as attention-getting, but who wanted to attract attention in a crafts class composed mostly of women?

Besides, after starting the morning by feeling like a monkey in a zoo, she didn’t want anyone looking at her the rest of the day. It was too bad that even Zara’s most casual clothing had been designed to magnetize male eyes.

Butch looked up at her and walked at her side. Leonie hoped he didn’t turn out to be a dog who couldn’t tolerate other dogs. She felt sure Adam was right. There were bound to be a few attack Yorkies or Chihauhuas in her class this morning.

What she didn’t expect was to find Adam in the class.

She signed in at the door of a large, dusty old brick building in mountain-surrounded downtown Hot Springs that housed a crafts mall; she paid her supplies fee to the teacher and looked around the huge, almost empty room. Fans whirled from the high ceiling and windows let in plenty of light. From the looks of the building, Leonie gathered it had once housed a school.

Odors of acrylic paints mixed with chalk dust. Leonie detected the chalk dust and felt right at home. The building smelled exactly the way a classroom should, in her opinion.

Beside her, Butch pressed against her leg and studied the situation. Sure enough, a tiny Yorkshire terrier with a pink bow discovered Butch and growled ferociously from an elderly woman’s lap, then let out a series of hoarse yaps.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman said. “Hush, Gretchen. The big dog isn’t bothering you.”

“A good watch dog never rests,” Leonie intoned, and stretched out a hand for Gretchen to sniff. “I’d better take Butch to the other side of the room or poor Gretchen won’t let you get a bit of painting done.”

Leonie drew Butch’s leash closer and looked for an empty table. The room was by no means crowded, but single women with dogs already took most of the tables meant for two people. The four large dogs present ignored Butch. Three small dogs took universal exception.

“You’re almost late.” Adam managed to make himself heard through all the yapping.

Leonie started and looked to her left. He had commandeered a table against the wall. There was a vacant chair at the table, and Adam’s arm rested across the back of it. Her heart leaped, then sank. So much for her resolution to avoid him for the next month by taking classes at the crafts mall.

He wore khakis and a white knit shirt that set off his tanned skin, giving him the look of a dedicated sportsman. Since the class was composed of fifteen middle-aged and elderly women, a man like Adam Silverthorne attracted great interest among the budding rock-painters present. Leonie couldn’t blame them. Adam was definitely worth a second look.

Leonie pulled Butch aside when a Chihuahua lunged at him from beneath a table. This was no time to quibble about seating arrangements. She hastened toward Adam, towing Butch along behind her. To his credit, Butch ignored the Chihuahua with enormous dignity.

Adam beckoned. “I saved you a seat.”

Leonie hoped the joyous flutter of her insides wasn’t visible on her face. “Were the woodworking classes filled up?”

“I decided I was destined to be a great painter at birth. Unfortunately, my parents put me in summer sports clubs rather than painting classes, so I never had the chance to realize my full potential.”

She couldn’t help but laugh as she took the chair he courteously held for her. “Same here. I spent my summers at the swimming pool. My parents were determined that I was going to learn how to swim and how to save lives.”

Why had she said that? He was almost certain to invite her to go for a swim with him on the grounds that he needed a certified life-saver in the water with him. Reminding herself that Zara, also, was certified in life-saving, Leonie tried to relax.

That proved impossible. Adam sat so close, the fresh, spicy scent of his aftershave enticed her senses. She even fancied she could feel the heat and strength of his arm where it lay across the back of her chair.

“Well?” Adam said, lifting his dark brows. “Did you have any more incidents last night after I left?”

“Incidents?” She frowned in an effort to concentrate on his words. “You mean did the peeping Tom come back? Not that I know of. I pulled the curtains and went to bed.”

“Good for you.”

She pretended to busy herself seeing to  Butch’s comfort so she wouldn’t glare at Adam. No doubt, he meant to be complimentary, but she knew very well when a man was making light of her concerns. Adam might be the most impressive man she’d ever met, but he wasn’t getting away with that.

“I’ve said something?” he asked, after an interval.

Leonie glanced his way briefly then transferred her attention pointedly to the art supplies before her. “I hope not. Men who make fun of me get black moustaches painted on their faces.”

“You think I’m making fun of you?” He looked chagrinned, to his credit. “Nothing of the sort. But you have to admit, it’s a lot more likely that somebody was just walking by on the shore last night and happened to look in your window at the same moment you saw him.”

Leonie decided to say nothing of her constant feeling of being under surveillance that morning. After all, that was why she was here, so that unnamed people spying on Zara would have someone to watch. Above all, she could not blow Zara’s cover.

She just wished being spied on didn’t give her such an uncomfortable feeling.

“You’re probably right.” She directed his gaze to the art supplies and resolved to say nothing more to Adam about being watched. “Look at this. Black is the only paint available. I thought we were going to paint flowers.”

Adam gave the supplies a cursory glance. “The teacher probably doesn’t want us to get too carried away by our new abilities.”

Leonie smothered laughter. “Maybe you’re right. Although I don’t know of any flowers that are black.”

“There are black roses. A friend sent some to his wife once, for their anniversary.”

“Black roses?”

“They were supposed to be red,” Adam said, grinning. “Deep red. Unfortunately, the red was so deep, the wife identified them as black and took his romantic gesture another way.”