A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing (26 page)

 

Afterward, we lay together on the ground. Somehow, I'd ended up sprawled across his chest with no clear memory of how I'd gotten there. My head rested on his shoulder, my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart beat fast and steady beneath my hand, hear the sound of his breathing in my ear. Above that came the sound of the stream, the rustle of leaves. Inexplicably, I felt at home.

And I shouldn't. I couldn't. Still, I let myself drift, savoring the feeling. When I finally stirred, I felt his arms tighten around me for a second before he let me raise my head and meet his eyes.

“Who won?” I asked.

Sloan's lips curved in one of those rare smiles as he pulled some twigs out of my hair. “The fight? I did.”

My eyes narrowed. “In your dreams. Want to go another round?”

He laughed and I felt my heart do that little flutter thing again. It was happening more frequently, and I was going to have to think about it. Just not now.

“I'm not sure I'm up to it,” he said as he sat up and settled me more comfortably on his lap. Then his expression sobered and something like regret slid into his eyes. Lifting a hand, he tucked my hair behind my ears. “What am I going to do with you, Brooke Ashby?”

He was talking about more than settling our argument, but I pretended that was what he'd meant. “How about a compromise? You want me to stay in my room, and I need to keep investigating what happened to Cameron. I've already made people uncomfortable.”

The sound he made was close to a snort. “You've done more than that. Someone shot our plane down. And the minute I turn my back, the Lintons and Austin have spirited you away. I want to call off your whole masquerade.”

I drew in a deep breath and marshaled all the arguments I could think of. “Just give me until
tomorrow night. As long as everyone thinks I'm Cameron, we have a better chance of learning something.”

“And you have a better chance of getting hurt.”

I turned and met his eyes steadily. “If it turns out that I'm James's biological daughter, I might be in just as much danger as Cameron was.”

For a moment, Sloan's arms tightened around me. Then they relaxed. “I wish to hell that I didn't agree with you.”

Pushing my advantage, I said, “How about we work together until we figure it out? I won't spend another minute out of your sight.”

He considered that for a minute. “I took you up in the plane and nearly got us both killed.”

“We weren't killed thanks to you.”

He was on the brink of agreeing with me, so I summoned up all my debate skills. “Even if you lock me in my room, I'll find a way to get out. I'm only on the second floor. I've had experience tying bedsheets together and rappelling down walls.”

He studied me. “For a woman who's afraid of heights, you've picked up some interesting skills.”

I nearly had him. “You were right earlier. I am stubborn. I'm not going to give up on this, and two heads are better than one.” I gave him a quick kiss. “It means that we'd spend more time together, and I'd owe you big-time.”

The corners of his mouth curved. “Are we talking about sexual favors?”

I smiled at him. “I certainly hope so.”

Sloan framed my face with his hands and ran his thumbs gently over my cheekbones. “Okay, but I want your word that you won't go off on your own again.”

“You've got it. And I want yours that we share all information. Like what you were doing in your office with Gus while I was riding out here with the Lintons and Austin.”

“I told Gus and he'll tell Elena who you really are, and I brought Gus up to speed on what we now believe about Cameron's disappearance.” He pressed his fingers to my lips. “I told you before that I trust Gus, and we can trust Elena, too. They'll watch our backs.”

“Okay. I guess we could use that.”

“Gus is checking into who might have used that SUV this morning, and he'll keep tabs on comings and goings. Elena can be our eyes and ears in the house. What did you learn from the Lintons and Austin?”

“Not much. They're either totally innocent or they're accomplished liars.”

I filled him in on the update Pepper had given me on the alibis, as well as what I'd discovered during the ride. “Austin sounds like he really wants a chance to prove that he's not his father's son.
And Hal—I hate to say it—but he's got me almost believing that he really fell for Cameron.”

“That might explain why she was kissing him in the garden,” he said. “But both Austin and Hal have every reason in the world to lie to you. And Hal doesn't have an alibi for the day Cameron disappeared. They could be working together.”

I smiled ruefully. “There's that, of course.”

“You have a soft heart, Brooke Ashby.”

“Did Cameron?” I asked, suddenly hungry to know more about my twin.

Sloan thought for a moment. “She had a tougher outer shell than you. And she wasn't above running a few cons herself. She had a lot of James in her.”

As we talked about Cameron in the past tense again, I felt my throat tightening. “In spite of everything we've learned today, I can't think of Cameron as being dead. I've had this feeling all along that she's in trouble, and that I had to do something about it—fast. But I never had the feeling that she was dead.”

Sloan tipped my chin up so that our eyes met. “We'll find out.”

The words and his simple faith in them cheered me. “And isn't it convenient that we have all the prime suspects gathered together in one house—just like in an Agatha Christie novel?” Another thought struck me. “And we owe that to James. The wily old fox.”

“What do you mean?” Sloan asked.

“Scheduling the wedding for tomorrow was a perfect excuse to keep everyone here. If he hadn't done that, Marcie and Hal and Austin would have gone right back to Saratoga Springs. The races and the parties have another week to run.”

“Yeah, you're right. I've been wondering just what James's role is in all of this.”

“You're not thinking he was involved in Cameron's disappearance?”

“No. But it's just like him to find a way to keep everyone here and try to stir something up. You're like him in that way.”

That surprised me. “I am?”

His brows shot up. “You came here masquerading as your sister with a story of memory loss. I'd call that a sure-fire recipe for stirring things up. And you've succeeded.”

With that he shifted me to the ground, rose to his feet and held out a hand.

I found myself reluctant to take it. Once we were back at the hacienda, I'd have to start thinking again and planning. Who should I talk to? What kinds of questions should I ask? And I'd have to think about Sloan. What we had was temporary, I wasn't going to lie to myself about that. And I could feel the minutes I had with him ticking away.

“C'mon,” Sloan said. “We can rinse off in the stream before we ride back.”

The moment I was on my feet, he scooped me up in his arms, carried me into the stream, and when the water reached his waist, abruptly let me go. Then to top it off, he placed a hand on my head and shoved me under.

I was sputtering when I finally surfaced. And Sloan was laughing. It took me two tries to get my feet under me, and he rewarded me by cupping water in both hands and throwing it in my face. I choked, lost my footing and went under again. When I came up, I saw that he'd gone into fresh gales of laughter.

My heart did more than a flutter this time. It went into a full-fledged somersault. I pressed my hand against my chest. This serious, enigmatic man I'd been fascinated with from the first time I'd seen his picture had just dropped me in a stream and purposely dunked me.

It was while I was watching him, his head thrown back, the sound of his laugh filling the air around us, that I admitted to myself what I'd been trying to deny since the first time I'd looked into his eyes. I could fall in love with Sloan Campbell.

A mix of panic and joy swirled through me. Talk about complications. I had no idea how to plot my way out of this. And since I didn't want to think about it and was barely ready to accept it, I decided that I could at least get even with him. Drawing in a deep breath, I slipped under the
water, then pushed off in his direction. Circling around, I came up behind him, grabbed one of his feet and yanked it hard. Looking up through the water, I saw his arms flail and then he pitched forward like a felled tree.

Of course, my revenge would have been more perfect if I could have escaped unscathed. But he twisted, grabbed my waist and pulled me close. In the wavering shafts of light piercing the gray water, he looked like some kind of sea god, and I wanted him as fiercely as I had such a short time before.

As if he'd read my mind, he kissed me. Sensations shot through me—the chill of the water, the heat of his mouth and hands. The hardness of his fingers at my waist, the soft, thorough movement of his tongue on mine.

Suddenly we were shooting upward. Sloan dragged his mouth from mine, and we both drew in huge gulps of air.

“We could have drowned.”

“We might yet,” he said as he lifted me and positioned my legs around him. “I want you.” Suiting actions to words, he pushed into me. But it wasn't far enough. I tightened my legs around him and tried to wiggle closer.

“Hold on tight.”

I thought then that he was going to move to the bank of the stream, but instead, he withdrew and
pushed in again, withdrew and pushed in again, teasing me. When he withdrew the third time, he paused. “I don't have a condom.”

“I'm on the pill.”

His gaze narrowed. “Are you involved with someone back in L.A.?”

“No. I like to be prepared.”

“Good.” He thrust into me this time all the way. “That's good.”

I couldn't have agreed more. Then we both began to move. The water was working against us, slowing us down, keeping the ultimate pleasure just out of reach until I thought I would simply go mad.

“Now.” Sloan's voice was hoarse, his fingers digging into my hips. “Come with me, Brooke.”

When he thrust into me, I did.

T
he afternoon sun was low in the sky and the shadows long when Sloan finally gave me a leg up onto Lace Ribbons. I felt both guilt and reluctance as I settled myself in the saddle. Guilt because we'd tarried longer than we probably should have. With each moment that passed, my “wedding day” was getting closer, and my masquerade would be over. So would the best chance I had of finding out what had happened to Cameron. I glanced back at the stream. In spite of that, I was reluctant to let go of this time that I'd spent together with Sloan. How would I feel when I had to leave Sloan forever?

As if he'd read my mind—which I was begin
ning to think he could—he laid a hand over mine. “We have to talk about us.”

Panic skittered up my spine. I thought I knew what he wanted to tell me, and I didn't want to hear it yet. “First things first. We have to find out what happened to Cameron.”

His hand tightened on mine before he released me. “Then we're coming back here where we can be alone. Promise me.”

“All right.” I managed a smile. “Although this is not the safest place to come. We nearly drowned twice by my count.”

“Nonsense. You just need a little practice building up the time you can hold your breath. I'd be glad to help you.”

“Oh, really? The way I recall it I nearly had to use CPR on you that last time we went under.”

He was laughing as he untied Saturn.

I was finding this new playful side of Sloan delightful. Inspired by it, I called, “I'll beat you to the stables.” Without waiting for him to mount up, I loosened my hold on the reins and used my heels on Lace Ribbons.

She responded beautifully, springing into a canter that took us quickly out of the trees. Then at my urging she accelerated into a full gallop. I leaned over her and said, “We have a head start, girl. Let's make the most of it.”

If we'd started out together, Saturn and Sloan
would have left us in the dust, but with the handicap I'd given us, we might have a chance. “C'mon, Lacey.” Air parted, then whipped past us and the ground fell away beneath us. I could hear hoofbeats now. Sloan and Saturn were gaining on us.

If I stayed on the route that Austin had chosen, there would be no contest. So instead, I bided my time and tried a surprise. When Sloan was nearly on me, I veered right and headed for a fence. He'd have to check his momentum to follow me, and that would buy me some time.

“C'mon, Lacey,” I crooned to her. “Show me what you can do.” I bent over her as she raced forward. The fence was only about ten yards away when I felt the saddle slip to the right. I leaned hard to my left, trying to compensate. But the horse faltered, unsettled by the shift in balance. Panicked, she reared up. Dropping the reins, I grabbed for her mane and kicked free of the stirrups. She reared up again, and when she came down this time, she bucked, lunged forward, and I hurtled over her head.

Time seemed to slow while I was airborne. My whole life didn't flash before my eyes but I did manage to conjure up an image of my first riding instructor. A tall man with the build of Ichabod Crane, his constant advice to me had been to tuck and roll. I tried, but when I rolled my head
smacked hard into something. Stars exploded and the world went black.

 

I kept my eyes closed because the pounding behind them was more muted then. I could hear Sloan's voice. He was talking in that soft, authoritative tone that was becoming so familiar to me. The other voice belonged to James, and his tone was angry but hushed, so I couldn't make the words out. Or maybe I just didn't want to put in the effort.

Sloan had carried me to James's suite of rooms as soon as we'd arrived at the ranch. The trip back was pretty much a blur because I kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Now I wanted very much to sleep. To escape.

Cool fingers closed over my wrist. “Don't go to sleep, Cameron.”

The knife-sharp pain in my head became more intense. As did the memory of my mad race across the field toward the fence, the slipping saddle and the breath-stealing impact of my body slamming into the ground. Pushing the images away, I tried to sit up and firm hands settled on my shoulders. “Not yet.”

I opened my eyes and found myself looking into Doc Carter's. He released my wrist and began to shine a small light into my eyes. “Her eyes look fine. Her pulse is steady.”

“You don't have to talk about me as if I'm not in the room.”

Doc Carter held up three fingers. “How many?”

“Three.”

“What day of the week is it?”

“Thursday.”

Doc nodded at me. “Fine. And what's your name?”

I opened my mouth and caught myself just before I said Brooke. “Cameron McKenzie.”

He smiled down at me. “So far so good. It's been a long time since you were unseated by a horse, young lady.”

Then abruptly, it wasn't Doc Carter's face leaning over mine. It was Sloan's.

“How do you feel?” His face was drawn with worry, and his mouth was set in a grim line.

Suddenly worried myself, I wiggled toes, fingers. “Is anything broken except my head?”

“No. I checked you out pretty thoroughly before I moved you.”

“I don't see any signs of a concussion,” Doc Carter said. “But I could drive her into San Diego.”

“No.” Sloan and I spoke in unison.

I levered myself into a sitting position and managed not to wince. “I'm not going to a hospital. I had my fill of them after my mugging.” And I had less than twenty-four hours left to find out what
had happened to Cameron. “I just fell off a horse. I'll live.” And then I remembered. “The saddle…”

“The girth was cut,” Sloan said as he took one of my hands in his. “The run created too much stress and it tore the rest of the way.”

I gripped Sloan's hand tighter, but I kept my gaze on Doc Carter. “Who saddled my horse?”

His eyes widened. “I don't know.”

“You were there. You and Beatrice came out of the stable with Austin and the Lintons.”

Now Carter was frowning. “Beatrice, Austin and the Lintons were in the stables when I arrived. A call had come in for Austin and Elena asked me to deliver the message. The horses were already saddled when I got there.”

“I'll have Gus check into it,” Sloan said.

“Well.” Doc Carter closed his bag. “I want you to take it easy for the next day or so. Don't go to sleep for a while.”

I made the mistake of nodding and pain sliced into my head again. “Aspirin?”

He took a bottle out of his case and shook two pills into my palm. I swallowed both of them dry before he handed me a glass of water.

Doc turned toward James. “Shall I tell Beatrice to hold dinner for you?”

“No,” James directed. “Tell her to go ahead and serve dinner without us. Elena will bring something up when we're ready.”

None of us spoke again until Doc Carter left the room. Then Sloan looked at me. “We're going to tell James everything.”

I opened my mouth, but Sloan held up a hand. “First someone shoots at you, then your saddle girth is cut. I'm putting a stop to your masquerade right now.”

“No need to argue about it,” James said. “I already know who she is. She's Brooke Ashby, and she's here because I sent her that letter telling her that she was adopted.”

 

Minutes later, I was still trying to absorb what James had revealed. He'd forestalled questions, insisting that Sloan pour us each some of the brandy he kept in his desk.

I waited for Sloan to sit down beside me before I asked the question that was foremost in my mind. “Do you know what happened to Cameron?”

“Yes, I know.” His face and his tone were grim. “But what I say stays in this room. Agreed?”

“All right.” I nodded.

Sloan looked angry. “I'm not promising anything.”

James studied him for a minute. “Her life and Cameron's life might depend on your silence.”

“She's alive then?” I linked my fingers with Sloan's. “Where?”

James took a sip of his brandy. “She's safe in L.A. I've hired security for her.”

“So she did run away,” Sloan said. “And you knew all the while where she was.”

“I knew where she was. But she didn't run away. The morning after you quarreled, she went to that spot she loves so much by the ocean. She told me that morning that she was having second thoughts about going through with the wedding.” Frowning, he waved an impatient hand. “Not because she was falling for that Linton character. She wasn't. The gal was too smart for that. She was keeping tabs on him like I asked her to.”

He paused to take another sip of his brandy. The light was beginning to fade outside, and Sloan reached to turn on a lamp.

“She was upset that morning,” James continued. “She told me that she believed Linton was really falling for her, and that was causing her to have second thoughts about settling for a marriage of convenience. Said maybe the both of you deserved better. I've no doubt she would have come around and done the sensible thing. She always does. But while she was out there on the cliff, someone came up behind her and pushed her over.”

I tightened my grip on Sloan's hand.

“Brooke figured that much out this morning,” Sloan said. “She climbed down and found Cameron's locket on the ledge.”

“Smart gal.” He shot me an approving glance. “The ledge saved Cameron's life. But it knocked her out for a while. When she came to, it was dark. She had her cell phone in her pocket and she called me, told me what happened and drove herself back here. We sat right in this very spot and decided what to do next.”

“So she drove her car back here and not the would-be killer?” I asked.

“Yes.” There was a ruthless light in James's eyes now. “I wanted the bastard to worry and wonder how that car had gotten back here. And whether or not Cameron could still be alive.”

“So you let us all believe that she'd gone away to think about the wedding,” Sloan said.

James nodded. “Then I waited for someone to show their hand.”

“And you didn't think I had a right to know where she was?” Sloan asked. His voice was soft and tight with anger.

When he answered, James's voice was tired. “Cameron didn't see who pushed her. The noise of the sea and the wind blocked any sound. I wasn't about to trust anyone.” He met Sloan's eyes steadily. “You'll have to forgive the overprotective-ness of a father.”

A tense silence followed.

I took a sip of my brandy to ease the tightness in my throat. “Why L.A.?”

James met my eyes, and I saw regret and something else, something that I'd seen before when he looked at me. Hunger? “She wanted to see you, to be close to you.”

“She knew about me?”

“I told her that night when we were deciding what to do. I'd been thinking of getting in touch with you, but it was her idea that I send you that letter. We figured that you'd make an appearance here and that would stir things up.”

“The return of the long-lost twin?” I asked around the tight ball that had formed in my throat. “How could you have been so sure I'd take the bait?”

James gave me a steady look. “You have McKenzie genes in you. I knew that curiosity would bring you here. But I wasn't expecting the memory loss story—that was a stroke of genius. I had to move up the wedding to really force the attacker's hand.”

There was a knock on the door, and Sloan rose to answer it. The interruption gave me a chance to play James's words over in my mind. “You have McKenzie blood.” What I'd suspected but never quite believed had turned out to be true. I was James and Elizabeth's daughter. And my sister was alive.

Elena came in pushing a cart, and for a while the only sound in the room was the clink of china
and silver as she set out dinner on James's desk. When she'd lit the candles and pushed the cart out of the room, James said, “Shall we eat?”

I put my brandy snifter down. “I can't. Not until you tell me why you gave me up for adoption.”

Sloan returned to his place beside me and took my hand in his. “You're going to have to explain that to me, too.”

James kept his eyes steady on mine. “I gave you up for adoption because I loved your mother, and I thought it would save her life. I thought I was in love with my first wife, Sarah, too. But we met in our teens, and during the ten years we were married, we changed, grew up I guess. She wanted something besides ranch life. I wasn't surprised when she ran away. The surprise was that she chose my best friend.” He nodded to Sloan. “Your father.”

“That must have been hard,” I said.

“I told myself that it happens. Lancelot was Arthur's best friend, and Guinevere fell for him. I hoped that they would be happy together.”

“They were in love, then?” I asked.

“Why else would they have run off together?”

“You didn't try to find them?”

“Sure.” James frowned. “But the P.I. I hired never found a trace.”

I gripped Sloan's hand harder. Because we were
talking about his father, and it didn't sound as if James had really wanted to find them.

“I was fifty-five when I met Elizabeth Cameron, and it was love at first sight for both of us. I took one look at her and thought this was the woman I was meant to be with. It was the same for her. She'd never wanted to marry, never considered it until she met me. What we shared was a rare and special kind of love—the kind that you experience when you meet the mate that you were created for. If you haven't experienced it, you won't understand what I'm saying.”

I thought I knew what he was talking about, but I didn't dare look at Sloan, didn't dare think about it.

“Elizabeth was thirty-five when we married, twenty years my junior. The one bone of contention between us was that I wanted children and she didn't. She didn't want anything else to interfere with her art. In her mind, marriage had interfered enough. But I persisted. I'm not sorry about that. In the end she gave in and agreed to give me one child.”