Shy Innocent In The Spotlight by Melanie Milburne
CHAPTER TWO
ELSPETHMADEHERway down to one of the main reception rooms in the castle, where the bridal party was gathered for welcome drinks. In spite of her you-can-do-this pep talk earlier, a colony of razor-winged butterflies was attacking the lining of her stomach. She was dressed in one of her twin’s designer outfits—an electric-blue satin sheath of a dress that clung to her body like a long, silky evening glove. The blue made her eyes pop, so too did the smoky make-up she had put on. The dress was way more revealing than any she would normally wear, but, hey, Cinderella had to get used to wearing a sparkly ball gown and glass slippers, right? Her twin’s shoes weren’t made of glass but they were higher than any Elspeth had ever worn before. And they cost more than a month’s wages. She’d had to practise wearing them by doing laps of her bedroom before she ventured downstairs. She had only stumbled once, so she was quite pleased with herself.
Years of watching Elodie get ready for a photo shoot had certainly paid off. Elspeth’s skin was flawless, her eyes highlighted by eyeshadow and eyeliner and lash-lengthening mascara. Her lips were shiny with strawberry-flavoured lip gloss and her pulse points sprayed with a heady musky perfume that had only made her sneeze once. So far.
But, make-up and beautiful clothes notwithstanding, Elspeth knew she was walking a fine line and, at any moment, one misstep could blow her cover. How on earth did undercover agents do this sort of thing day in and day out? It was enough to give you a stomach ulcer.
Elspeth was still a little wide-eyed about spending the weekend in an actual castle. How many people outside royalty owned their very own castle? But that was the sort of wealth Mack MacDiarmid possessed. His ancestry went back centuries and she couldn’t help feeling a little impressed by her surroundings. There were so many rooms, so many stairs, so many turrets it was as if she had stepped inside a fairy tale. The grounds were extensive with both formal and wild gardens, rolling fields and dense woods backdropped by the craggy Highlands. Situated on the shore of a small loch, the estate was picturesque and private, the perfect setting for a wedding. Everything was in tip-top shape. No crumbling walls or sagging ceilings, no draughty corridors with inadequate lighting or heating, no dust sheets draped over furniture or cobwebs hanging from the cornices or the crystal chandeliers. There was even a shiny suit of armour in the gallery, along with huge portraits of previous generations of MacDiarmids. Huge whimsical flower arrangements adorned every room, her own room included. Only the wedding party was staying at the castle but, since she was one of six bridesmaids, she hoped she would be lost in the crowd.
But as soon as she walked into the reception room, Sabine, the bride, rushed over to her.
‘Elodie! You look amazing as always.’ Sabine did the air-kiss thing and stood back to run her gaze over Elspeth’s outfit...well, her twin’s outfit, that was. ‘That blue is so stunning on you. And your make-up is so professional and we haven’t even had the make-up artist, Maggie, do her magic on you yet.’
‘Oh, this old thing?’ Elspeth waved a hand in front of her twin’s outfit in exactly the same dismissive manner Elodie would have used. ‘You look lovely too. I’m sure you’ll be the most gorgeous bride ever.’ Okay, well, maybe her twin wouldn’t have laid on the compliments quite so enthusiastically but Elspeth thought Sabine was a very pretty girl-next-door type who was positively glowing with happiness. It made her wonder if falling in love with the man of her dreams could work the same magic on her. As if. Who was going to fall in love with a girl who couldn’t walk past a bowl of nuts without having a panic attack?
‘I’m so honoured you could find time in your busy schedule to be my bridesmaid,’ Sabine said. ‘It means the world to me. You’re such a fantastic role model at how to look fabulous without even trying.’
Without even trying?Elspeth had to hold back a spluttering laugh. She had been trying to turn herself into a glamour queen for the last two hours. Sheesh. How did her twin do this every day? It was positively exhausting.
‘It’s a privilege to be here,’ Elspeth said with a smile. ‘It’s such a beautiful place to hold a wedding.’
‘I know, right? Mack, Fraser’s brother, was so generous to let us use it,’ Sabine said. ‘Have you had something to eat?’ She beckoned over a waiter who was carrying an array of delicious-looking finger food on a silver tray. ‘These are scrumptious. I’ve had three of them already.’
Elspeth studied the tray of food for a brief moment, deciding against taking anything off it. She had two EpiPens in her clutch purse but the last thing she wanted to do was blow her cover in the first hour by triggering her allergy. She had considered quietly alerting the catering staff to her dietary issue but decided against it. It would draw far more attention to herself than she wanted, especially as there was no record of her twin ever having an allergy. Who knew if a paparazzo was lurking about ready to leak something to the press? It was easier to avoid eating. Besides, she had fresh fruit and nut-free cookies in her suitcase. There was a lot she would do for her twin but starving herself was not one of them. ‘Thank you but I’m not hungry.’
‘No wonder you’re so slim,’ Sabine said with a rueful grimace. ‘I could never be as disciplined as you are. I love my food too much.’ She looked past Elspeth’s shoulder and smiled a broad smile. ‘Let me introduce you to your host and bridal-party partner for the weekend.’ She took Elspeth by the arm and led her to the other side of the room. ‘Mack, this is Elodie Campbell, the famous lingerie model I was telling you about.’
Mack MacDiarmid turned around and met her gaze for the second time that day. A frisson passed over her flesh, her heart rate sped up and her mouth went dry. He was taller than she had calculated—at least six foot four—with broad shoulders and piercing grey-blue eyes framed by prominent eyebrows. His hair was dark brown with one or two threads of silver at the temples giving him a distinguished, old-before-his-years aura. His hair was slightly wavy and casually styled with one or two curls kinked over his forehead, lending him a rakish look that made her heart flutter. His square jaw hadn’t seen a razor in a day or two, which should have made him look unkempt but somehow did the opposite. The designer stubble was rich and dark with a light sprinkling of silver throughout that, if anything, made him even more heart-stoppingly attractive.
‘How do you do?’ Mack held out his hand and she slipped hers into its firm clasp. If his Scottish accent and whisky-rough voice weren’t enough to dazzle her senses, his touch more than completed the job. His skin was dry and warm, his fingers long and tanned, and a zap of electricity shot from his hand to hers with lightning-fast speed.
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Elspeth couldn’t get her voice above more than a scratchy whisper and was aware of scorching heat pooling in her cheeks. Eek. Her twin hadn’t blushed since she was twelve. How convincing was she going to be if her cheeks fired up every time Mack MacDiarmid glanced her way?
Mack released her hand but his gaze remained tethered to hers with an unnerving intensity. ‘Welcome to Crannochbrae.’
‘Thank you. It’s been ages since I’ve been to Scotland. It’s such a beautiful place, especially here in the Highlands. You have a gorgeous home. The gardens are spectacular. You must have millions of bees in total raptures with all those flowers.’ She knew she was talking too much but something about Mack’s commanding presence and unwavering gaze deeply unsettled her. She got the sense he was not easily fooled, not easily deceived, not easily manipulated. She started to question her sanity in agreeing to switch places with her twin. Why had she thought she could do this convincingly? It had been easy to fool their father all those years ago—he had never been able to tell them apart even when they were babies and toddlers, even before he left their mother for another woman when they were five.
But Elspeth got the feeling Mack MacDiarmid was a man who never let anything escape his notice. Every little detail was noted, documented, filed away for reference, for clarification. For close investigative study.
Mack’s gaze narrowed ever so slightly. ‘Didn’t you have a photo shoot on the island of Skye a couple of months ago?’
‘I—I did?’ Elspeth looked at him blankly for a moment, her heart skipping a beat. ‘Oh, yes, I forgot about that, silly me. I do so much travelling I can’t remember where I’ve been or how long ago it was. Yes, of course, Skye was stunningly beautiful.’ Double eek. This was proving to be harder than she had first thought. Her twin was always dashing off to yet another shoot in an exotic location, so it was hard to keep up with her movements. Elspeth vaguely remembered Elodie mentioning something about freezing to death on a Scottish beach modelling next summer’s swimwear range. She tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear and beamed up at him as her twin would have done.
Mack’s smile didn’t make the full distance to his penetrating eyes. ‘You enjoy travelling for work?’
‘Love it. So many places to see, so many people to meet. Of course, it’s not always glamourous. There’s a lot of waiting around on shoots, a lot of time in hair and make-up and living out of a suitcase and so on.’ Elspeth was repeating all the things her twin had told her over the years but even to her own ears, it sounded inauthentic. As if she was playing a part, which she was. Would he see through it? He didn’t seem the type of man to be easily taken in. He was too suave and sophisticated and street smart. Never had she felt more out of her depth. Like a teensy-weensy goldfish flung out of her tiny bowl into a vast ocean of whale sharks.
‘Can I get you something to drink? A cocktail? Champagne? G and T? Wine?’ Mack asked.
Unlike her twin, Elspeth rarely drank alcohol. She had never really developed a taste for it because she so rarely socialised. But she figured it would look odd if she didn’t have what her sister would normally have. Besides, a little Dutch courage might come in handy right now. ‘Champagne would be lovely, thank you.’
Mack moved away to fetch a drink for her and Elspeth took a moment to try and calm her racing pulse. She couldn’t stop following Mack with her gaze, drawn to him in a way she couldn’t explain. He was so...so dynamic. So potently, breath-snatchingly attractive. It was as if every other man she had ever met paled in comparison. Not that she had met a lot of men in a dating sense. After her last date when she was eighteen, she had ended up in hospital with anaphylactic shock. Her mother had almost had a breakdown over it and Elspeth hadn’t dated since. But that was why she had moved out of home a month ago, so she could live without her mother hovering and fussing over her as if she were still a child. She wasn’t a child. She was a fully grown adult and could take care of herself. And this weekend was a good chance to prove it, to herself if not her mother.
‘So you’ve finally met my big brother,’ a male voice said in an undertone from close behind her.
Elspeth turned and encountered Fraser MacDiarmid. She recognised him from the photo Elodie had shown her. He was good-looking but not in the same category as his older brother. He was an inch or two shorter and carried a bit more weight around his middle. His jaw wasn’t as strong, his gaze not as direct, his aura not as dynamic. Fraser was bland and boring where his brother, Mack, was compelling and captivating.
‘Oh, hello...’ Elspeth was at a loss to know what else to say. She couldn’t remember if her twin had met Fraser or not and mentally rewound her conversation and text messages with her. Surely it was just the bride Elodie knew? But there was a familiarity about Fraser’s manner towards her—the way he was standing so close, for instance—that suggested he considered her twin far more than a passing acquaintance.
Fraser gave her a smile that wasn’t really a smile. ‘I know what you’re up to, you know.’ His voice was still pitched low, as if he didn’t want others to overhear.
Elspeth straightened her shoulders and willed her knees not to tremble. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ At least that wasn’t a lie.
His smile became vicious, like a stray dog baring its teeth. A don’t-mess-with-me-I’m-dangerous-if-provoked warning. He leaned a little closer, his beer-scented breath wafting over her face. ‘You think you’re so clever wangling an invitation to my wedding just to watch me squirm.’
Why would he feel the need to squirm? What exactly had gone on between Fraser MacDiarmid and her twin? A fling? An affair? Elodie hadn’t mentioned anything about a fling with the groom. She had casually dated on and off in the seven years since jilting her fiancé, Lincoln Lancaster, but never for longer than a week or two. She claimed she didn’t want to be tied down. She insisted she wasn’t looking for Mr Right and the white picket fence and a pram parked in the hallway. But something clearly had gone on between Fraser and Elodie. But what?
‘I was flattered to be invited to be one of Sabine’s bridesmaids,’ Elspeth said, desperately trying to stay as cool and collected as her twin would have done.
‘I bet you were.’ Fraser raked her with his gaze. ‘But if you so much as whisper one word of what happened between us that night in London, I’ll deny everything and make you look like the troublemaking fool you are.’
Her heart banged against her ribcage and a cold shiver scuttled down her back. What had happened between them? As much as it shocked her to be threatened by a man who was clearly a bit of a bully, Elspeth stayed in her twin’s character with renewed vigour, even with a little more confidence. After all, Fraser MacDiarmid clearly didn’t suspect she was a stand-in—he was treating her as if she were indeed her twin. Someone with whom he had had some sort of encounter that he was now desperate to keep secret on the eve of his wedding.
Elspeth inched up her chin, her gaze pointed. ‘But will your fiancée believe you?’ She was proud of how sassy and defiant she sounded. So like Elodie it was kind of spooky. Not that she could ever be as confident and in charge as her twin, more was the pity. But it sure was rather thrilling to pretend.
But then she noticed Mack coming back with her glass of champagne, his intelligent gaze taking in the tense little tableau between her and his brother.
‘Ooh, lovely,’ Elspeth said, taking the glass off Mack with a smile bright enough to outshine the crystal chandeliers above. ‘My favourite. Cheers.’ She took a generous sip of the champagne and was pleasantly surprised to find she liked the taste. But maybe that was because it was the best champagne money could buy. No doubt Mack MacDiarmid would not serve cheap imported sparkling wine from the local off-licence at his brother’s wedding. Or maybe it was because, right then, she needed all the help she could get to get through this ridiculous charade.
But was it so ridiculous?
The realisation drifted into her mind that, right now, a part of her was actually enjoying herself. She was a little out of her comfort zone, sure, but no one so far had guessed she wasn’t Elodie, even Fraser, who apparently had had some sort of illicit tryst with her twin. Go me, she thought. Who knew she could act so convincingly? But—even more exciting—she was getting a buzz from being in the company of Mack MacDiarmid. Every time he came within a metre of her, every cell in her body tingled with awareness.
‘Excuse me, I have to mingle with the other guests,’ Fraser said, and strode away with a deep frown carved between his eyes.
Mack looked down at her with an unreadable expression on his face. ‘Everything all right?’
Elspeth blinked up at him guilelessly. ‘Sure. I’m having a marvellous time. Just super. Everything is just wonderful.’
His gaze drifted to her mouth, lingered there for a pulse-racing moment. ‘Liar.’ His voice was deep and rumbly and it did strange things to the base of her spine, making it all tingly and loose.
Elspeth had to remind herself she was pretending to be her twin. Elodie would not stand there with her heart pounding and her senses on high alert. She would not be intimidated by the most handsome man she had ever met. She would stand her ground and give as good as she got. ‘You don’t look like you’re having a wonderful time either.’
‘What makes you say that?’
She gave her version of one of her twin’s classic insouciant one-shoulder shrugs. ‘All these people you don’t know or even particularly like traipsing all over your home all weekend, getting drunk and up to who knows what else.’
One side of his mouth tipped up in a cynical half-smile. ‘Is that your plan? To get drunk and get up to who knows what else?’
Elspeth took another sip of her champagne, deciding it was as addictive as verbal sparring with the Laird of Crannochbrae. His eyes continued to hold hers in a challenging lock, his mouth still tilted in an enigmatic smile. ‘I don’t have a plan. I like to live moment to moment. It’s way more fun.’ She beamed another smile at him. ‘You should try it some time, Mr Control Freak.’ She drained her glass and set it down on a nearby table. Mr Control Freak? Eek. What had made her call him that? It sounded as though she was actually flirting with him. She had never flirted with anyone. She had missed out on the flirting gene...or so she’d thought.
His eyes went back to her mouth and she had to fight the impulse to lick her lips. What was it about this man that made her feel so reckless and excited? Was it the champagne going to her head? Or was it Mack MacDiarmid’s disturbingly attractive presence?
A flinty light came into his eyes. ‘I would advise you, Miss Campbell, against doing anything that would jeopardise my brother’s wedding this weekend. Do I make myself one hundred per cent crystal clear?’ His tone was commanding, so commanding and dictatorial it made her bristle on her twin’s behalf. What the hell did he think Elodie would do? Her twin might be a little wild at times but she would not wilfully sabotage someone’s wedding day. She had sabotaged her own, sure, but that was another story. One Elodie had not yet told anyone the full details of, not even her. Elodie refused to talk about why she jilted her fiancé and Elspeth knew better than to keep pressing her to do so. Elodie could pout and stonewall for weeks on end if pushed too hard. She was so stubborn she could have made a career out of conducting training workshops for mules.
Elspeth moved a step closer to Mack, close enough to smell the citrus and woodsy notes of his aftershave. She had to fully extend her neck to maintain eye contact. Had to resist the sudden urge to stroke her hand down the peppery stubble on his lantern jaw to see if it felt as sexy as it looked. Had to stop herself from staring at his sensually contoured mouth and wondering what it would feel like against her own. ‘You’re not the boss of me but I bet you’d like to be.’
Oh. My. God. Listen to me. I am so nailing impersonating Elodie right now.
A line of tension rippled across his jaw and his gaze hardened another notch. ‘You’re way out of your league playing with me.’
Elspeth suspected even her outgoing don’t-mess-with-me twin would be way out of her league playing with Mack, let alone her quiet and shy and socially inexperienced self. She lowered her gaze to the firm line of his mouth, her stomach bottoming out. ‘What makes you think I want to play with you?’
He held her gaze for a long throbbing moment. ‘I know your type.’
‘And what type is that, pray tell?’
‘The type of woman who likes to be the centre of attention.’
Elspeth lifted her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner. ‘My, oh, my, what an appalling opinion you have of me—someone you’ve only just met. But don’t worry, Mr MacDiarmid. It’s not my intention to outshine the bride. This is her wedding weekend, not mine.’
‘I heard about your ill-fated wedding day. Tell me—how did your fiancé feel about being left standing at the altar? Are you still on speaking terms?’ There was a note of censure in his tone that, in all honesty, Elspeth had heard in her own voice when asking her twin about why she had done such a thing. That awful day was still etched in her mind. Seeing the look of bewilderment and then thunderous fury on Elodie’s fiancé’s face. The shocked embarrassment of the guests, the horror on their mother’s face. Everyone turning to her and insisting she must have known something as Elodie’s identical twin and why hadn’t she let them know, blah blah blah. It had been beyond upsetting and embarrassing to admit she had known nothing. She had been just as blindsided as everyone else.
‘It was seven years ago,’ Elspeth said with a parody of her twin’s nonchalance. ‘He’s forgotten all about me now.’ That wasn’t a lie either. Lincoln Lancaster had only ever had eyes for Elodie and would have probably forgotten the existence of her shy twin after all this time. And hopefully everyone else at the wedding that day. But whether Lincoln had forgotten Elodie was another matter.
‘How well do you know Sabine?’
‘Clearly well enough for her to want me to be one of her bridesmaids.’ Elspeth gave him another plastic smile straight out of the party girl’s playbook.
‘And my brother, Fraser?’
Elspeth was aware of heat pooling in her cheeks and her smile fell away. ‘Wh-what about him?’ Her voice didn’t sound as steady as she would have liked. And nor was her heart rate.
Mack’s eyes became diamond hard. ‘Describe your relationship with him.’
Elspeth pinched her lips together and held his gaze with a defiant glare. ‘What are you implying?’
He gave a low deep grunt of cynical laughter that made her bristle from head to foot. ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about.’
If only she did know. Elspeth was furious with her twin for putting her in such a compromising situation without giving her the full picture. How was she supposed to do a convincing job of pretending to be her twin when she didn’t know what her twin had been up to? ‘I hardly think it is any business of yours, Mr MacDiarmid.’ Her voice was so tart it could have done a lemon out of a job.
Mack stepped a little closer and her breath caught in her throat and her cheeks heated up another notch. But it wasn’t just her cheeks that were hot—her whole body was on fire, as if he had triggered an inferno in her flesh. ‘I’m making it my business.’ His tone had a gravelly edge that sent tingles down her spine, so too did the smoky grey-blue of his eyes.
‘If you’re so keen on finding out, why don’t you ask your brother?’
‘I’m asking you.’
‘I refuse to discuss this while there are people about.’ Elspeth began to move away before she got too far in over her head but one of his hands captured her slim wrist on the way past. She stopped dead, not because his grip was forceful—it wasn’t. But because his touch was electrifying and it sent tingling shock waves through her entire body.
Elspeth looked down at his long, tanned fingers curled around her wrist, her heart slipping from its moorings in her chest. She hadn’t been touched by a man in a decade. His touch set fire to her skin, every whorl of his fingers searing her flesh like a scorching brand. She brought her gaze back up to his and injected icy disdain in her voice. ‘If you’re so keen to avoid making a scene at your brother’s wedding rehearsal, I suggest you take your hand off me this instant.’
The air was charged with a strange energy like a tight invisible wire stretching, stretching, stretching almost to snapping point.
Elspeth held his gaze with a strength of willpower she hadn’t known she possessed. She would not be intimidated by him. She would not scuttle away like a scared little rabbit in front of a big bad wolf. She would stand up to him and enjoy every heart-stopping moment. Never had she felt so exhilarated, so alive and aware of her body. Flickers of lust stirred between her thighs, her breasts tingled and tightened, her blood rocketed through her veins at breakneck speed.
But as exciting as it was to stand up to Mack MacDiarmid, she couldn’t quite forget she was playing a role. She was pretending to be Elodie. And as empowering as it felt to interact with such a dashingly handsome man, she had to remember it was a charade. She could never be part of the world her twin lived in. She could do a walk-on part for twenty-four hours but that was all. It was crazy to think otherwise.
Mack’s fingers loosened a fraction but only enough to reposition so his thumb could measure her racing-off-the-charts pulse. ‘Why do you I make you so nervous?’ His tone was silky, his gaze penetrating.
Elspeth hoisted her chin. ‘I’m not intimidated by you.’ Or at least, she was pretending she wasn’t intimidated. Pretending she wasn’t rattled, unnerved, intrigued and bewitched by him.
He gave an indolent smile and stroked his thumb across her blue-veined wrist, her sensitive skin tingling, fizzing in delight. ‘Meet me in the library in half an hour. We’ll continue our discussion in private.’ He released her wrist and turned and walked away before she could think of an answer. Or a reason not to meet him.
Elspeth let out a long wobbly breath like someone squeezing the last bit of air out of a set of bagpipes. Meet him in private? To discuss what? Things she had absolutely no clue about? Being anywhere alone with Mack MacDiarmid was asking for trouble. He only had to look at her to send her heart racing and her blood pumping. She looked down at her wrist where his fingers had touched her and a frisson passed through her body. Her skin felt as if it had been permanently branded—it was still tingling, all the nerves rioting beneath her skin.
At least her twin would be here first thing in the morning, so she could get out of this farce before she made a complete and utter fool of herself. If only Elodie had prepared her a little more. Why hadn’t her twin told her what had occurred between her and Mack’s younger brother, Fraser? For something had gone on, of that she was sure. She picked up another glass of champagne off a passing waiter and took a sip to moisten her powder-dry mouth. The last hour had given her a taste for top-shelf French champagne and a brooding Scotsman.
And she didn’t know which one would do the most damage—the demon drink or the devilishly handsome Mack MacDiarmid.
Mack cornered his brother a short time later in what used to be the music room. It was now a spare sitting room but it wasn’t used that often. He had sold his beloved piano years ago and had never got around to replacing it. He had given up his dreams of a musical career and concentrated on salvaging the family’s estate instead. Mack closed the door with a resounding click and eyeballed his brother. ‘Tell me what’s going on between you and Elodie Campbell.’
Fraser’s gaze darted away from his as he walked to the other side of the room to pick up an ornament off a side table. ‘Nothing’s going on.’ He put the ornament down again and then straightened a photo of their mother.
‘But something did go on between you.’ Mack framed it as a statement because he knew when his brother was lying. ‘I thought you were worried Elodie Campbell might dance on the tables or drink too much and act a little inappropriately with the father of the bride or something. But this?’
Fraser loosened his tie with one hand as if it were choking him. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. ‘It was nothing.’ He clenched his fists and added with greater emphasis, ‘It meant nothing. She meant nothing.’
Mack drew in a breath and slowly released it. ‘I’m the last person to judge someone for having a one-night stand but were you engaged to Sabine at the time?’
His brother’s cheeks developed twin flags of colour high on his cheekbones. ‘I’m not going to answer that because it’s none of your damn business.’
Mack frowned. ‘Because it’s too confronting to openly admit you’ve been a prize jerk?’
Fraser gave him a glowering look. ‘It was only the once. No damage has been done. Sabine doesn’t know and I’d like it to stay that way.’
Mack let out a curse in Gaelic. ‘Damage has been done. Sabine thinks the man she’s marrying tomorrow is loyal and faithful. How many other women have you been with since you’ve been engaged to her?’
‘It’s none of your business, Mack. You’re not my father.’
‘No, but you’re turning into ours,’ Mack shot back. ‘Dad didn’t have the guts to be honest about the mistakes he made, the lies he told, the truths about himself he refused to face either. He was a coward and it destroyed our mother’s life and that of his lover and child. Do you really want to do that to Sabine? Because that’s the way it starts—one lie, one misstep, one betrayal and then a thousand lies and cover-ups until it all comes crumbling down around you like a house of cards.’
Fraser gave a convulsive swallow, his eyes showing raw fear. ‘I can’t tell Sabine. It’ll destroy her. She thinks I’ve never met Elodie before. She met her at a charity function and got a little star-struck by her. Next thing I know they’re chatting online and, hey presto, she’s invited her to be one of the bloody bridesmaids. I’m sure Elodie engineered it just to make trouble. I couldn’t say I didn’t want her in the wedding party because Sabine would have wondered why.’ He turned away and scraped his hand through his hair. ‘Can you imagine the scandal it will cause if it comes out now? What the press will make of it?’
‘Why did you do it? Aren’t you happy with Sabine?’
Fraser threw him a worldly glance. ‘You’ve met Elodie. Why do you think I did it?’
Mack had no argument with his brother on finding Elodie Campbell stunningly beautiful. Any man with his fair share of testosterone would find her attractive. But there was something about her that didn’t add up and he was determined to find out exactly what it was. It was as if she was acting a part, playing a role of femme fatale that didn’t sit all that comfortably with her. He was prepared to accede that most public figures had another side to their personality, especially if they were representing a brand. They could be quite different in their private lives away from the spotlight. He was convinced the young woman he caught a glimpse of from the upstairs window was not the same woman who sparred with him a few minutes ago. It wasn’t just about the hair and make-up and fancy clothes. Something about Elodie Campbell puzzled him and he would not rest until he figured her out. ‘Just because you find a woman attractive doesn’t mean you’re entitled to sleep with her. Did she know you were in a committed relationship at the time?’
The dull flush on his brother’s cheekbones darkened. ‘No.’
‘So you lied to her too.’
Fraser rolled his eyes and spun on his heels again. ‘She would have slept with me anyway. She’s a slut. Everyone knows that.’
Mack ground his teeth so hard he thought his molars would crack like his grandmother’s heirloom porcelain china. How had his younger brother become such a misogynist? ‘Careful, your double standard is showing. A slut is basically a woman living by a man’s morals, so I would advise you not to use such an offensive term.’
‘You would advise.’ Fraser leaned on the word and made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat. ‘It’s all you ever do—tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.’
Mack had had to step into a father role from the age of sixteen when their father committed suicide after his double life and the massive debts he’d built up were suddenly exposed. It had devastated their mother and Fraser, but Mack had had to set aside his own shock and grief and take control before any more damage was done. But even so, Fraser had subsequently acted out throughout his teens, skipping school, failing subjects he used to be star pupil in, dabbling in drugs and excessive alcohol. It had been a nightmare for Mack trying to keep his family together, to maintain some sense of normality when everything had been turned upside down. He’d had to put an end to his own career aspirations in order to run the estate.
Music had been his passion, his love, his everything and he’d had to give it up. He hadn’t touched a piano since. It was as if a part of him had died along with his father. He’d had to work three jobs, sell off valuable heirloom items he wished he hadn’t had to sell, beg and borrow huge amounts of money to cover the hair-raising debts his father had left behind. It had taken years of hard work and sacrifice to get the estate back in the black. ‘Only because you seem incapable of getting your act together. I know it was rough on you when Dad died. It was rough on all of us, Mum in particular. But you’re not fourteen any more, Fraser. You’re a grown man about to get married. You owe it to Sabine to be straight with her.’
‘It’ll hurt her...’
Mack gave him a look. ‘A pity you didn’t think of that when you unzipped your—’
‘Elodie started it. She came on to me.’
‘And you had no choice? No moral compass to guide you? You just got down and dirty and forgot about everything but getting it off with a beautiful woman behind your fiancée’s back.’
‘You’re such a hypocrite.’ Fraser curled his lip. ‘You’ve slept with dozens of women.’
‘I’m not denying it, but I have never done so while in love with someone else.’ Mack had never been in love. Had in fact avoided any emotional entanglements that would require him to invest in a relationship longer than a week or two. He wondered if he was even capable of loving someone in that way. Love was supposed to be blind and in their mother’s case it certainly had been. But when it came to that, he too had been blind about his father. Blindly devoted to his dad without realising his father was living a double life. Racking up gambling debts, keeping a mistress and child in another city for years, spending money he didn’t have to fund his crazy lifestyle. In hindsight, Mack could recall each of his father’s blatant lies. Lies that still hurt to this day. The fact that his dad had tricked him into thinking he was working hard for them for weeks at a time, missing important dates—birthdays, parent-teacher meetings, key sporting events—when the truth was he was with his other family.
The betrayal of trust had been life-changing for Mack. He no longer chose to be blind to a person’s faults. He no longer possessed a pair of rose-coloured glasses. He went into relationships with his eyes wide open and got out of them before any damage was done. Trusting someone, loving someone made you blind to their faults, to their lies, to their cover-ups. He kept emotion out of his relationships. They were transactional and temporary and could be terminated without tears.
Fraser’s expression was belligerent. ‘I’m not going to sabotage my own wedding by confessing one little mistake to Sabine. And I’d appreciate it if you would keep Elodie Campbell under control as I asked you to.’
Mack had a feeling trying to control Elodie Campbell even for twenty-four seconds was going to be a challenge. But, hey, he liked a challenge and she was a rather beautiful and intriguing one.
But controlling his own red-hot attraction to her was going to be the kicker.