His Convenient Virgin Bride

Seven

Chandeliers dangled from the ballroom ceiling, while massive ice sculptures and floral arrangements decorated white linen tables. The waiters wore period tuxedoes, and a big band played a jazz tune on a low stage in one corner of the room.

On Alec’s arm, Stephanie glittered. Her rich, auburn hair bounced in a halo of tight curls to her bare shoulders. It was pulled back on one side by an elaborate, rhinestone clip, which matched her ornate necklace and dangling earrings. Her makeup had been done in a bright twenties-style, and the shimmering, champagne dress clung to her lithe body.

Alec couldn’t help a surge of pride as people turned to stare. His marriage might be a sham, but he was the envy of every man in the room.

He leaned down to whisper. “You should dress up like a girl more often.”

“They’re not looking at me,” she whispered back, smiling politely at the onlookers.

“Yes, they are.” More people turned to stare.

Up to now, it hadn’t occurred to Alec to wonder how Stephanie had made it to twenty-two as a virgin. But now it sure did. He also realized men would be lining up to take his place the minute he was out of the picture.

It was not a pleasant thought.

“They’ve heard,” she told him in an undertone.

“Heard what?”

“About us. That we got married.”

He disagreed. “It’s you.” Still, at the mention of his temporary position, he couldn’t stop himself from curling his arm around the small of her back.

“Oh, sure,” she mocked. “Really give them something to talk about.”

“I could give you a kiss.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Just playing my part.”

“Play it from over there.” She quickly sidestepped out of his embrace.

He followed, snagging her around the waist once more. “And how will that be convincing?”

“Give it your best effort.”

“Oh, I intend to,” he drawled.

“Stephanie,” purred a woman in a floor-length, peacock-blue, sequined gown. She swept in front of them with a flourish, looking to be about sixty-five, though very well preserved. Her streaked blond hair was decorated with blue feathers, and she brandished a matching fan like a weapon.

“Mrs. Cleary,” Stephanie greeted with a smile, and the woman’s gaze immediately jumped to Alec. She raised her sculpted brows.

“This is my husband, Alec Creighton,” Stephanie supplied smoothly.

Alec liked the sound of that. He let his hand slip to hers, and he stroked the pad of his thumb across her diamond ring and the matching wedding band.

Stephanie jolted her hand away. “Mrs. Cleary is the president of the Brighton Fund-raising Committee.” The tone told him he ought to be impressed.

“A pleasure, Mrs. Cleary.” He gave her a warm smile and used his newly freed hand to shake with her.

She checked him over carefully. “Please, call me Bridget.”

“Bridget,” he obliged.

“I hear congratulations are in order.” The words were more an accusation than a tribute.

“Indeed, they are.” Alec drew Stephanie firmly to his side, feeling her soft curves beneath the sexy dress. There was no law telling him he couldn’t enjoy his acting role. “We’re looking forward to starting a family.”

He felt her stiffen, but how could she complain? He was simply smoothing the pathway for the inevitable announcement of her pregnancy.

“Stephanie?” came a second voice, a younger woman this time. “Are you going to introduce me?” She offered Alec a gleaming white, perfectly straight orthodontic smile.

She looked to be in her late twenties and wore a bright purple, beaded dress, and a matching headband. She held a long cigarette holder, and her blond hair was upswept in a riot of curls. Her lashes were dark with heavy makeup, and she wore fishnet stockings with high-heeled, black shoes accented by an oversize silver buckle on the sexy ankle strap.

In another time and another place, he would have smiled right back at the undeniably beautiful woman. She was the stuff of erotic dreams. But Alec found he preferred Stephanie’s more understated look. And it wasn’t just the fake husband in him speaking. Interesting.

“Rene,” Stephanie greeted, her voice slightly tight, features carefully neutral. “This is my husband, Alec.”

There was a proprietary inflection on the word husband. Nice.

“Pleasure to meet you, Alec the husband,” Rene giggled as she extended the back of her hand, wiggling her fingers in an obvious invitation.

He ignored the hint, and shook her hand instead of kissing the back.

She gave a mock pout with her jewel-red lips.

A tall, thin man appeared. He wore an outrageous purple velvet coat with leopard-print trim and matching slacks.

“Rene,” he admonished, from beneath a broad brimmed hat. Then he glared a warning at Alec.

Alec had to bite down hard to keep from laughing. It was tough to take a man seriously when he was dressed like a sitcom pimp.

“Alec Creighton,” he said instead and extended his hand. “I believe our wives know each other.”

The man’s eyes went round.

“Wife?” Rene cackled. “That’ll be the day.”

“My apologies,” said Alec. Then he smiled warmly down at Stephanie. “But I highly recommend it.” He glanced back at the man. “You should think about asking her.”

The man looked like a deer in the headlights.

Alec could feel Stephanie’s body vibrate with repressed laughter.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Alec asked her.

“Dance,” she sputtered, grabbing Alec’s arm and turning him away from Rene.

Alec quickly took the lead as they wove their way through the crowd. “You are bad,” Stephanie accused.

“They deserved it. So, who is she?”

“She’s the princess of the circuit. Her father owns a stable of jumping horses.”

“Big deal. So do you.”

Stephanie snorted out a laugh. “Not like he does.”

Alec drew her into his arms and swung her into the latest song in a Duke Ellington tribute. “You’re not intimidated are you?”

“By Rene?” Stephanie easily followed his lead.

“Yes.” He waited. He’d learned to recognize it when she was stalling.

She paused. “Maybe once. She’s been glamorous since she was twelve.”

“You’re glamorous now.”

Stephanie coughed out a laugh. “Not like her.”

Alec let his hand trail along the smooth silk of Stephanie’s dress, letting the tactile memory remind him of exactly how gorgeous she’d looked walking out of her hotel bedroom earlier. She’d positively taken his breath away.

Now, his voice went husky. “Better than her.”

She didn’t answer, but she seemed to mold slightly closer against him. He gathered her tight, ignoring the warning that was sounding in his brain.

“Besides,” he forced himself to joke. “She’s obviously jealous of your husband.”

“Ego, Alec?”

“A man can tell these things.”

“Because she was flirting with you?”

“Exactly.”

Stephanie chuckled. “She flirts with everyone.”

“I’m quite a catch,” he protested, telling himself to put a little distance between their bodies.

He ignored himself.

“You have quite the ego.”

“Part of my charm.”

“You have charm?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he savored the feel of her in his arms, inhaling the scent of her hair, letting the haunting strains of a saxophone solo carry them away.

“I suppose you do,” she said softly.

“What?”

“Have charm.”

He drew back. “You’re conceding a point?”

“You also have looks,” she continued. “But you already know that. Every woman in the room is envious of me right now.”

“You mean every man is envious of me.” He drew a breath. “How is it,” he struggled to frame the question that had been nagging at him for weeks. “That you stayed a virgin all those years?”

“I don’t get out much.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Stephanie?”

She shrugged against him. “I honestly never had any offers.”

Now that was ridiculous. He chuckled low. “Maybe there weren’t any verbal offers. But, trust me, there were offers. You’ve had at least two dozen since you walked into this room.”

She pulled back. “Where?”

“Never mind.”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m just smarter than you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“More observant,” he amended.

“You have a vivid imagination.”

“And you have a sexy rear end.”

“You keep your mind off my-Hey, there’s Royce. What’s he doing here?”

Alec didn’t know whether to resent the interruption or be grateful Royce had arrived so promptly.

Before he could make up his mind, Stephanie was out of his arms and heading off the dance floor.

Alec followed closely behind.

She glanced from her brother to Amber. “Where did you guys come from?”

Amber grinned, but her quick glance at Alec told him she knew they were here about Stanton.

“We were in Chicago,” she told Stephanie. “But you know your brother. I mentioned you might need moral support, and the next thing I knew we were taxiing down the tarmac.”

Stephanie’s brows knit together. “But I’m not even riding.”

“Exactly,” said Amber, drawing Stephanie a small distance away from Alec and Royce.

Royce gave him a nod. “I got your voice mail.”

“Damien has news,” Alec returned. “Amber knows?”

Royce stepped closer and kept his voice low. “Amber’s the brains of the outfit. She was the one that noticed the resemblance between Frank’s sister and Stephanie.”

Alec nodded. “You have an intelligent fiancée.”

“I have an amazing fiancée.”

Alec’s gaze strayed to Amber’s black and red costume. The women were drawing more than their share of appreciative male glances. “You might want to hurry up and marry her.”

Royce looked around, clearly making the same observation as Alec. “She’s having trouble deciding on the wedding location.” His shoulders squared. “But we might have to make a detour through Nevada on the way home.”

Alec gave a chopped chuckle, while Royce took a half step toward Stephanie and Amber to stare a man down.

The man moved on, and Royce drew back. “What time’s the meeting?”

“Wesley has a warm-up scheduled at three. Stephanie has to be there. I told Damien I’d call when the coast was clear.”

“He’s here?”

“On his way.” It would be good news. Alec might not have heard the details yet, but if Damien was finished in Spain, Norman Stanton was no longer going to be a threat to the Ryders.

“How do we know Stanton won’t go back on his word?” Royce asked Damien.

Alec had waited until Stephanie was occupied in the arena with Wesley and Rosie-Jo, then he’d given the all clear signal to Damien, Jared, Royce, Melissa and Amber. The group had assembled in the hotel suite’s living room.

Jared nodded to back up his brother’s question. “The man’s a blackmailer and a thief.”

Damien cast a fleeting glance to Alec. He wasn’t used to having his situational assessment questioned. But he was also a consummate professional, so he wouldn’t make an issue.

“Norman knows we can reach out and touch him in Morocco,” he answered simply.

Alec straightened from where he’d propped his shoulder against the arched entryway to the dining area. “There aren’t a lot of places left for him to hide.”

“He must be pretty ticked off,” Melissa put in. “What’s to stop him from calling a tabloid and exposing it to the world?”

“Arrest and incarceration,” said Alec.

Jared elaborated. “Stanton must have thought he was safe in Morocco. Yet Damien tracked him down and lured him to Spain. He knows we’re tenacious, and he has to be feeling like there aren’t a lot of places left to hide.”

“Could the police really extradite him from Spain?” asked Royce.

Damien gave a little half smile. “Technically, yes. Practically…It’s hard to say. But if you’re Norman Stanton, do you take that chance?”

“We’ve got him trapped in a standoff,” Alec clarified. “He talks to Stephanie, we press charges.”

“A smart man takes the money and runs.” Jared nodded.

“Any chance we can get the money back?” asked Amber. Then she glanced around at the blank faces. “We’re talking about twelve million dollars here.”

“I can look into it,” said Damien. “But he’ll have spent a lot of it already.”

Royce shook his head. “I’m done. Stephanie’s the important thing. I say if he walks away, we walk away.”

Melissa’s eyes went wide. “Excuse me? Twelve million dollars?” She glanced to Jared, and it was obvious the sum was news to her.

“Paid out over at least ten years,” Jared told his wife.

“It was Grandpa Benteen and McQuestin,” Amber elaborated. “They didn’t know how else to-” She stopped, suddenly casting a guilty glance to Jared, obviously realizing Melissa might not know about Stephanie’s illegitimacy.

“We have another problem,” Alec told the gathering.

Everyone went silent.

He snagged one of the dining room chairs, straddling it backward in the archway and propping his elbows on the back.

Damien backed off a few steps, positioning himself near the glass patio door.

“Your mother was six months older than your father,” Alec explained to Jared and Royce, trying to keep it as straightforward as possible. “Since they died together, she was deemed to have predeceased him.”

Both men watched him, expressions growing wary.

“In his will, should his wife predecease him, your father asked that his estate ‘be divided among my children, then alive.’”

There was a split second before the words sank in.

“Stephanie’s not his child,” said Jared.

“Frank Stanton.” Melissa shook her head.

“But we can fix it?” Royce asked.

“I talked to Katie Merrick. It’ll take a few lawyers, and a stack of contracts, but it’s doable. Trick is, you’ll have to get Stephanie to sign them without reading them.”

“Too late for that.” Stephanie’s terse voice intruded.

Alec jerked his head toward her.

Stephanie stood in the foyer doorway. Her face was pale, but her eyes glittered with anger.

“Oh, no,” Amber rasped.

Alec came to his feet.

Stephanie stared at her bothers. “I’m…” That was as far as she made it.

Both of them stood, but she held up a hand to stop them. “And nobody was going to tell me?” She turned her accusing stare on Alec.

“What did you hear?” he asked, his mind scrambling for a damage control plan.

“Is this a conspiracy?” She glanced around the room. Her gaze stopped on Damien. “Who’s this?”

Damien glanced to Alec.

“He’s yours,” Stephanie scoffed at Alec. “Of course he’s yours. Is this why they hired you?”

Alec took a step forward. “Stephanie.”

“Wow.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Is that what you’re doing for us? Is Ryder International even in financial trouble?”

“Stephanie,” Jared began.

“You should sit down,” Royce put in.

Stephanie rounded on him. “You should start talking.”

The two stared at each other for a moment.

“We were being blackmailed,” said Royce. “By Alec?”

“No,” Alec jumped in, unable to remain silent any longer. “By Norman Stanton. I was looking into your finances.” He wasn’t about to hit Royce and Jared with an I told you so, but it was darn tempting.

“So you claim.” Stephanie glared at him. “But we both know you can fake pretty much anything.”

“Alec’s not the bad guy,” said Amber.

“Then who’s the bad guy?”

“Frank Stanton,” said Royce.

“And he’s my father?”

“Can we talk about this later?” asked Royce, his gaze going pointedly to Damien.

“Sure.” Stephanie shrugged. “Don’t mind me.” She crossed to a desk and picked up some papers. “I just dropped by for the insurance forms. Let me know how this all turns out. I’ll sign anything you want.”

“Don’t start sulking,” warned Jared.

Alec felt a flash of anger. He moved to position himself between the two. “I think she’s got a right to be a little upset,” he told Jared.

Jared’s eyes narrowed down. “Stay out of it.”

“I don’t believe I will.” Alec folded his arms across his chest. They were the ones that hired him. They insisted he marry Stephanie. Convenience or not, she was his wife.

Royce stepped up beside his brother. “It’s a family matter.”

“I’m family.”

“Not really.”

“I have a piece of paper that says so.”

Stephanie stepped back in. “And they have a piece of paper that says I’m not. Procured by you, if I overheard correctly.”

“You’re still our sister,” Jared hastily put in.

“Half sister. Out of the will.”

“There you go again,” Royce all but shouted. “The most dramatic possible-”

“I think you’d better leave,” Alec said to the brothers.

“Us leave?” Jared’s voice was incredulous. “You leave.”

“It’s my hotel room. And she’s my wife-”

“Give me a break!” Stephanie threw up her hands. “I’ll leave.”

“No.” Alec’s hand shot out to stop her. “We need to talk.” Past today, they were still having a baby, and they still had to make that work.

“Let go of Stephanie,” Royce growled.

Amber came to her feet, voice commanding. “Stop this. All of you. I mean it.”

She placed herself between Alec and Royce. “Alec wants to talk to Stephanie.”

Royce clamped his jaw in silent protest, but everyone filed out. Alec was left alone with Stephanie. “For the record,” he told her, “I advised them to tell you the truth.”

She didn’t turn around. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I promised I wouldn’t.”

She was silent for a moment. “So a business contract is more important to you than your wedding vows?”

Alec drew a breath.

“Never mind,” she continued. “Don’t answer that.”

He moved a few steps toward her. “It was complicated. I had no right-”

She turned. “No right to be honest with your wife?”

“Don’t twist things to score points.”

The woman had enough on her side of this argument without doing that.

She dropped into one of the French provincial chairs. “So, I guess I’m a bastard.”

He pulled out another chair and angled it toward hers, sitting down. “So am I. It’s not so bad.”

“I meant literally, not metaphorically.”

“So did I.”

Her expression softened ever so slightly. “Really?”

“My father eventually married my mother.” Though that had turned out to be more a curse than a blessing.

Stephanie slumped back in the chair. “My mother had an affair.”

“So it would seem.”

“I’ve had her up on a pretty high pedestal all these years.”

Alec leaned forward, covering Stephanie’s hands where they rested in her lap. “She was human.”

“You accept infidelity?”

“I understand weakness and imperfection.”

“Are you imperfect, Alec?”

“I took your virginity and made you pregnant while I was working for your brothers. Then I lied to you. Well, held back the truth anyway.”

“And you’ll eventually be unfaithful.”

He drew back. “What? No. Why would I-”

“Can you really stay celibate for months on end?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. He’d never tried.

It had only been a couple of weeks since the wedding, but so far he hadn’t had any overwhelming desire to sleep with other women. Ironically the only person he wanted to make love to was Stephanie.

“You’ll eventually give into temptation,” she determined.

“Where is this coming from?”

“My mother did. Your parents did. We did.”

“You’ve really wandered off on a tangent here.” He wanted to talk about her family, to make sure she was coping okay with the truth.

“I’m merely pointing out that we both have the infidelity gene.”

He coughed out a surprised laugh. “It comes down to principles and personal choice.”

“We slept together.”

The reminder made him aware of their joined hands, her sweet scent and those cherry-red lips that were slightly parted with her breath.

“Yes, we did,” he agreed.

“When we shouldn’t have.”

“That’s debatable. We didn’t betray anyone.”

“Except maybe ourselves.”

Alec shifted his chair closer and raised their joined hands. “Do you feel guilty, Stephanie?”

She gazed into his eyes. “Do you?”

He shook his head. “I don’t have a single regret about making love to you. And I don’t hate Frank Stanton. And I’m glad your mother gave into temptation. If not for that, you wouldn’t be here.”

“So, I should be grateful?”

“You should be sensible. Don’t rail against things you can’t change. Just make the best of what you have.”

She seemed to think about that for a minute. Then her lips softened, and her voice went low. “I miss you, Alec.”

Desire instantly overran his brain. “I’m right here.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know.” He steeled himself against the urge to drag her into his arms. “But you’re upset and vulnerable, and I still have a few principles left.”

Silver sparkled to life deep in her eyes. “How can I get rid of them?”

Simply by breathing. His hands convulsed around hers. “You can’t.”

A sharp rap sounded on the suite door, and Stephanie frowned.

Alec felt like he’d been saved from himself. They were only going to stay away so long.