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Something Borrowed
Something Borrowed
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Something Borrowed

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Telling herself to stay calm, she took another deep breath as yet another door opened in front of her. Ah, she thought, the green room. Across the stage, she realized, was another large, boxlike room, which was blue; presumably the men were inside.

Here, the walls and floors were the color of Marley’s Italian bicycle, a sea-foam-green color the bicycle company had named Celeste. Wishfully thinking she was on her bike and pedaling out of here, Marley stared at the two women inside—a grinning, curvy woman with wild dark hair, and a tall, thin, square-jawed blonde, who was tanned and wearing all white.

Marley startled when the door of the green room shut behind her; only one of the attendants remained. As she began straightening the collar of the blond woman’s outfit, Marley wondered what to do next. She’d only seen snippets of this show, but she was familiar with the premise—contestants went on a week of dream dates while a studio audience judged whether the relationship would blossom into long-term romance. What had Edie been thinking? Would anyone—much less a woman affected by a wedding curse who was a proven failure at love—want her fledgling romance held up to scrutiny?

Oh, yes. She could definitely see why Edie wanted to cancel. Suddenly, relief flooded her. “You have alternates,” she said to the attendant who’d remained in the green room.

The woman only shook her head. “They left as soon as you got here.”

“Left?” Marley felt the floor being whisked from beneath her feet. For a moment, she couldn’t even find her voice. “W-what if a contestant has a heart attack right after she gets here?” she sputtered.

“You’re not having a heart attack, Edie,” the woman said flatly.

Vaguely, Marley was aware that the show was airing now. From inside the box, she couldn’t hear anything, but a small TV was affixed to the ceiling. Trevor Milane was addressing the studio audience. Her heart was racing, her mind whirling with confusion. She couldn’t go on a reality show dressed like her twin—especially not when she’d come here to break a date for her.

“Thirty seconds!”

Marley watched in panic as, on the mounted television, the door of the green box was opened by an attendant. The studio audience went wild, offering whistles and hoots while clapping their hands and stomping their feet. Her heart felt as if it were dropping to her feet. One of the many voices she’d just heard replayed in her mind. Just follow the lead of the other contestants. Knowing she had no other choice, Marley somehow managed to put one foot in front of the other, scarcely believing any of this was really happening. Only the wedding curse could have made her plan to impersonate Edie backfire this drastically, and she could only hope their parents weren’t watching….

“Welcome to Rate the Dates,” Trevor Milane was saying as she and the other women filed past. He really was incredibly good-looking, and Marley could only hope she’d stop noticing such things sometime soon. A smile that didn’t quit and a designer jacket had transformed the gruff man from the hallway into Mr. Charm, one of TV’s prime-time reality-show celebrities. While she’d only seen snippets of the show, and ads for it, she knew Trevor was a regular. Each week, he hosted with a young woman chosen from contestants around the country. Now, he was grinning at a cute, corn-fed blonde beside him, saying, “And now that the women are seated, we’re ready to bring in the lucky males.”

As Marley seated herself, time ground to a halt, and for a fleeting second, she felt it was the world, not Edie’s watch, that had stopped. And then everything started moving again, every sound in the studio impossibly loud.

Everything looked overly bright, too, garish and surreal. Bright blinding lights were in her eyes, so she couldn’t really see the audience, something she hadn’t anticipated. When she saw herself on a large, wall-mounted screen behind the hosts, her heart thudded harder. She really did look like Edie! While Edie wore her blond hair blown out straight, Marley usually kept hers in a disarray of waves. And while Edie favored tailored suits with designer labels, Marley wore ancient, ripped sweatpants and torn T-shirts looking, Edie always said, like a throwback from the movie Flashdance. Even their own mother said Marley’s outfits weren’t fit for the trash. Due to their stylistic differences, strangers never thought Edie and Marley were sisters, much less identical twins. But now…

Marley bit back another rush of panic as the men came closer. Her head was swimming, her tummy tumbling with butterflies. None of this was supposed to be happening. Even worse, if she tried to explain this to Edie, saying she’d meant to interrogate Cash, since she feared Edie couldn’t protect herself, Edie would be even angrier.

Her heart missed a beat. Her throat went dry again. And then the whole world slid sideways. For a second, she could swear she was about to faint. Instead, she managed to exhale another quick breath as Cash paused, almost missing a step, his gaze dropping seductively down the front of her dress, as if he were already playing for the cameras.

It was the wrong time to remember how his eyes had drifted over her in the comedy club. Or how he’d stared at her when she’d met him once more, inside Big Apple Brides, and yet another time when he’d offered her a ride in his truck, which she’d declined. Shaking her head, hoping to clear it of conclusion, she recalled how Edie had begged her to get new clothes for working out with Julia Darden, and Marley had. Lots of little tops and spandex pants, which was what she’d been wearing the last time she’d seen Cash….

Of course he wouldn’t remember that, though. Because he thought she was Edie. He slid beside her, and she actually shuddered when his powerful arm brushed hers, forcing sudden heat into her cheeks, and a strange, undefinable embarrassment at the loss of control, something that only worsened when he casually slipped a large, dry palm beneath hers, threaded his fingers between hers and then closed them, locking their hands.

The touch captured her attention entirely, so only belatedly did she realize he was jeopardizing her manicure. She glanced downward and saw her nails were fine just as he leaned closer, his drawl sounding slow and easy, right next to her ear. “Hey there, Edie, sweetie.”

Edie sweetie? Had her sister’s relationship with Cash really progressed to pet names? Or was he simply playing to the cameras? Either way, his breath sent a shiver down her spine. Vaguely, Marley was aware that Trevor was interviewing the other couples, but she couldn’t concentrate. Cash was better looking than she remembered. So big and muscular. With bunched-up thighs and biceps that said he could easily lift twice her weight in the gym. It was almost enough to make Marley second-guess her motivations. But no…all she’d wanted was to make sure he meant Edie no harm….

But God, he was gorgeous. Oh, just a moment ago, she’d thought she had to go through with this so as not to jeopardize Edie’s relationship with the Dardens and Celebrity Weddings, not to mention her reputation with the American public. But now, she realized she’d better come clean fast. She simply couldn’t spend a week on hot dates with a man this sexy, whom she didn’t trust….

“We know you’re the lucky gal who’s planning the upcoming wedding of hockey star Lorenzo Santini and hotel heiress Julia Darden. Isn’t that right, Edie?”

The blood drained from her face. What if her sister’s meeting with the Dardens was over—and she’d tuned in to the show? This really wasn’t a sixth grade class where she and Edie could trade places as a joke. This was national TV.

“As you mentioned, Trevor,” she found herself responding, her voice shaking just a little in a way she hoped no one noticed, “I’m a wedding planner.” There. She’d just said a sentence to thousands of viewers, maybe millions. Amazing. She felt suddenly breathless. Electrified. Or maybe that was just from the way Cash Champagne was starting to stroke her hand, as if hell-bent on showing the public how hot they were together.

Marley just hated that her palm had begun sweating in Cash’s. His was bone dry, as if he were on TV every night of his life. “I’d also like to talk about my sister,” Marley managed to add, feeling only a twinge of guilt. After all, she might be able to pick up some clients. “Her name’s Marley…and, uh, she’s doing a wonderful job, working as Julia Darden’s personal fitness trainer.”

Now she knew Edie was going to kill her. It was bad enough to impersonate your twin, but she’d just stooped to using the opportunity to promote herself. Brazen hussy, she thought, but forced herself to continue. “Previously, Marley owned a wonderful fitness club called Fancy Abs, and she’s currently shopping for a location for her new venture.” It wasn’t strictly true, since she still didn’t have the money to do so, but maybe someone with an inexpensive rental property would see her on TV and call….

“It’s great of you to give your sister such a glowing recommendation!” exclaimed Trevor. “No sibling rivalry there. You’ve shown just the kind of generosity that endears a contestant to our viewers.”

Great. Really, it was Edie who deserved all the credit. She’d hooked Marley up with the Darden wedding and then introduced her to Emma Goldstein. That had led to Marley’s writing a fitness column for Celebrity Weddings. So far, Marley had written Honed Honeymoon, Sex Muscles and Shapely Mates.

Feeling guilty, Marley hazarded her first glance toward Cash’s dark, smoldering eyes and said, “Uh, look, Trevor…I’m not really sure Cash and I should be on this show.”

Trevor only laughed. A quick glance at Cash showed her that he’d taken the news in stride. As soon as they got out of here, she’d explain everything.

Staring into the camera, Trevor winked knowingly. “We’ve got a female with cold feet. And what’s our studio audience have to say about that?”

Bleeps and horns sounded as the audience pushed buttons on the armrests of their seats. A ding sounded. Then Trevor said, “Go, Edie! You and your date have been voted our underdog couple! If you win, your cash prize doubles. That means one-hundred thousand dollars for you and Cash!”

Marley’s jaw slackened. Edie had said there was a cash prize, but nothing that hefty. Her first thought was that she could comfortably rent the space she needed to put Fancy Abs back in business. She wouldn’t call it Fancy Abs, of course, since that era of her life, which had included Chris, was over. Her second thought was that she could never survive a week of dream dates with any man, much less Cash Champagne, at least not without having sex, which she’d foregone for a year now. And even if she could, the wedding curse would continue to wreak havoc with her future….

But what was she thinking? she chastised herself. She had to get off this show; otherwise, Edie was going to disown her as a sister.

“Really,” Marley protested. “I’ve had second thoughts. I know it’s unusual, but it would be great if you could call back the alternates. Anyone backstage will tell you I was trying to cancel. I really don’t think…”

Trevor bellowed, “What does the studio audience say?”

The crowd punched buttons again. Another ding sounded, and Trevor shouted, “Double underdog! These are two-time losers. She says she doesn’t want to dream-date this man, studio audience! It’s a tough sell. If these two win, the prize is now set at two-hundred thousand dollars for Cash and Edie!”

Marley was definitely weakening. But she was pretty sure the dream dates involved a lot of music, flowers and dressing up in fancy gowns provided by the studio, all romantic things Marley had shut the door on—for life. “That’s an awful lot of money, Trevor, but I don’t think…”

“Cash,” Trevor interrupted. “You’re a southern gentleman. Can you convince your date to help you win this pot of gold?”

Marley’s already stuttering heart missed another beat as Cash sent the camera a devastating smile. He really was gorgeous, with tanned, reddish-chestnut skin, black hair that swept from his face like midnight, and eyes that promised he’d be scrumptious in bed, even if Edie had claimed it was false advertising.

“Why, Trevor,” Cash drawled, “I can be quite persuasive with the ladies.”

Persuasive? Oh no! Surely he didn’t mean…

Marley watched in horror as Cash slowly rose to his feet, dressed in well-worn jeans that lovingly wrapped around his sculpted thighs, pointy-toed western boots and a sport coat the tawny color of a fawn. Turning, he gave the camera his delicious-looking backside, then placed sun-bronzed hands on the armrests of Marley’s chair and hunkered down to eye level.

Ever so slowly, he ducked his head another notch. Her breath caught. So did his. Then he leaned another fraction and feathered his mouth across hers, offering a satisfied, smacking sound that Marley couldn’t help but remember was reverberating over all the airwaves in America.

And then everything went black for just a heartbeat.

Fluttering her eyes, she wondered what had happened. Maybe she’d swooned. Her already woozy head swam, and even though her eyes were shut, the light seemed to shimmer as if she were walking through a desert under a hot sun. Vaguely, she was hoping Edie wasn’t watching this, but she could almost hear Edie’s phone ringing, and their mother’s excited voice saying, “I know you’re not there, Edie. I just wanted you to know that Daddy and I are watching you on TV right now! I know you said you weren’t experiencing any sparks with your new fellow, but that’s not what I’m seeing!”

Or what her sister was feeling. Molten heat had raced through her veins, zipping through her bloodstream, and she could only thank heaven that her feet were enclosed in Edie’s painful high heels, so no one could see the unnatural angle at which her toes had curled.

As Cash drew back, the studio audience took in her stunned expression and screamed with delight, and then Trevor said, “Well, folks, it sure looks as if Edie’s decided to be on our show!”

2

BE ON THE SHOW? After that kiss? No way, Marley thought, ripping the microphone from the lapel of the too-short suit when the cameras stopped rolling. The wool was making her legs itch so badly that she’d wanted to claw her thighs throughout the show, and now, since she’d gulped all that water, she was desperate to find a ladies’ room.

Thankfully, the ridiculously frilly, high-collared blouse beneath the jacket had saved her torso from breaking into hives. Between the pancake foundation someone had applied during a commercial break, the candy-apple blusher and eye shadow better suited to a Hollywood diva, the makeup people who’d been manhandling her since she’d arrived had done a real number on her. Cash was just lucky she hadn’t strong-armed him to the ground! After all, she had taught female self-defense courses at Fancy Abs. Of course Cash didn’t know that because he thought she was Edie….

Yanking down the skirt as she stood, Marley prayed she’d kept her legs together during the show. Not that her panties, which were the only thing she was wearing that belonged to her, weren’t decent. Unlike her twin’s silk thongs, hers were of high-waisted cotton, bought two pairs for a dollar on the street in Chinatown. Careful not to make eye contact, she brushed past Cash, and then beelined toward an Exit sign over the door to the hallway, through which Trevor Milane had just vanished.

If only she could erase the memory of the past hour! Maybe she could just clunk herself on the head, she thought dryly as she hightailed after Trevor, and induce amnesia. Yes…she would refuse to dwell on the swollen feeling of her lips and the unwanted bereft sensation left in the wake of Cash’s kiss, not to mention the undeniable pang solicited by the absence of his mouth, or the weightless, falling feeling she’d been sure she’d never experience again.

“Oh, this is not good,” Marley whispered nervously. The last time she’d had this swooning feeling, her ex had been kissing her goodbye as she’d left for work. Or so she’d thought. Eleven hours later, she’d found the note that said he’d kissed her goodbye—forever. After taking the money from their joint accounts, he’d left for Key West to fulfill his lifelong ambition of living on a houseboat, a dream he’d somehow failed to mention to Marley before.

Still eyeing the Exit sign, she reminded herself that what Cash had forced her to experience was a mere bodily response to male stimuli. Cash’s lips had landed on hers, and sure, she’d shuddered. Her belly had warmed, her blood had quickened, her thighs had squeezed together and her breasts had tightened. But it meant nothing. This New Year’s, she’d sworn off men, but if a man did certain things, healthy women were bound to feel certain other things. Dabbing her upper lip, Marley wished hot sweats wasn’t one of them.

Fortunately, she was mature. Her divorce had left her hardened and more worldly. Men’s kisses could affect her body now, but not her mind. Never again would she let physical experiences sway her good judgment. Sure, immediately after Cash had kissed her, she’d said she’d remain on the show. And sure, to the viewers of America, it might have looked as if Cash had persuaded her with one stupid kiss.

But Marley had the power. She could easily have wrestled Cash to the floor with a headlock. Or kneed his groin. Oh, she really didn’t trust him. He was too pretty, superficial and slick. With those prominent cheekbones, thick black hair and straight nose, he looked like a model or a rock star. He wasn’t Marley’s type, and besides, he was her sister’s boyfriend, at least technically. And yes, maybe the word boyfriend was strong. Which was to the point. Marley had suspected this man’s motives. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she could tell Cash had some ulterior reason for dating Edie….

Barreling through the door, she entered the long hallway she’d traversed earlier, her legs teetering. Why she couldn’t walk in Edie’s high heels, she’d never know. Snowboarding was her favorite pastime, and she in-line skating down the West Side Highway at speeds that beat city traffic.

Run, run, run, her mind was screaming. But her ankles were wobbling. The stilettos were catching on the thick pile of the carpet. Unfortunately, most of the office doors were shut, and she needed to talk to Trevor. He’d know how to rectify this situation. She thought she’d glimpsed his nameplate at the far end of the hallway. She had to get off the show. There was no other alternative after that…

Kiss.

Her throat closed at the thought of the lip-lock that had made her workouts seem tame. Her head swam, and vaguely, she wondered if it had really been a year since she’d had sex. Heat had burned off her as Cash mushed his lips to hers, and she figured she must have lost at least a pound, maybe two. It had definitely been a calorie-burning sizzler. Even now, she could see those suntanned fingers curling around the armrests of her seat, trapping her. Just as she’d gasped, the scent of his skin had tunneled to her lungs, and a heartbeat later, the silken tip of his tongue had teased open her lips, wetting them….

But who was he, really? He’d scarcely touched Edie, which was one reason Marley didn’t trust him. Face it, men craved sex like air, and so Cash’s hands-off policy with Marley’s twin was suspicious. And he didn’t live in New York. Oh, he’d said he was from New Orleans, and he’d said he was helping a friend open a club, but Marley was convinced that the whole story wouldn’t hold water, not if she played armchair detective, made a few phone calls and checked him out. Maybe she’d do just that….

Suddenly, she squealed. “Ouch!” He’d grabbed her from behind, closing his fingers around her upper arm. “Let me go, Cash.”

“How’d you know it was me?”

Yeah, right. She’d smelled the clean male scent of him and heard the soft brush of his boot heels on the carpet. Somehow, she couldn’t force herself to turn around and face him, not yet. No heat in the man’s kisses? What had her twin been talking about? His every pore was leaking testosterone. “That’s the other thing,” Marley muttered hotly, hardly caring that she was continuing a monologue she’d been having in her head.

“What’s that?”

Wrenching her arm away, she whirled to face him. “I guess the rumors about southern men are true.”

His laugh shouldn’t have been annoying, but it was. “Which rumor? That we kiss to beat the band?”

“No, the rumor about having your way with women, regardless of their feelings. You have a pretty high opinion of yourself.”

“I hadn’t even started talking about myself yet.” Cash’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement. “Just my kisses.”

“They might not fly so well in Yankee territory,” she returned sweetly in her best southern accent, rapidly batting her eyelashes, a move that didn’t come naturally.

“I don’t see why we need to make this a North-South issue, since the Civil War was over a long time ago.”

“Ah. But was it really civil?”

“No war is,” he agreed.

Fortunately, she’d made it halfway to Trevor’s office, and now she reminded herself that, in just a moment, she’d be released from her obligation to the show, at least if she were lucky. Surely, they could start over tomorrow with the alternates. “Look. This isn’t what you think.”

The eyes drifting down every inch of her didn’t look convinced, but they did look curious. “No?”

This would shake him up. “I’m not Edie.”

She almost smiled, since she’d clearly unsettled him. Finally. With satisfaction, she watched his calm, cool, collected demeanor change, and she felt glad she was wearing Edie’s high heels. Now that she was standing still, the shoes made her tall enough to meet his liquid eyes.

As the seconds ticked on, however, she got uncomfortable again. She became overly conscious of people crowding into the hallway, the flicker of fluorescent lights and the shortness of her own breath. She became aware of other things, too, which she’d have preferred to ignore, such as how his well-worn jeans clung to lean hips and snuggled around the unmistakable rise beneath his zipper. The other male contestants had worn suits, but Cash had somehow stopped the reality-show staff from wrestling him out of his beloved jeans. She glanced around. Where were the other contestants, anyway? Had they exited by another doorway? And why wasn’t he saying anything?

When he finally did, he said, “You’re not Edie?”

She hated to disappoint him. Feeling a twinge of guilt, she rushed on. “Uh…I know I look like her tonight. I mean, with the blown-out hair and makeup.” She was even wearing panty hose. “But…” In mid-sentence, her mouth went dry again. He really was incredibly good-looking. Somehow, she managed to repeat, “Uh…no, I’m not Edie.”

He said the last thing expected. “Uh…no shit, Marley.”

Her heart fluttered. “You knew?” Oh, this made everything so much worse.

“Uh…yeah.”

She squinted. “So, why did you look surprised?”

“Uh…I thought you knew that I knew that you weren’t…” His voice trailed off.

At what exact point had he known? She had to ask. “When? Before or after?” The kiss.

He rubbed a jaw that was turning dark with five-o’clock stubble, his equally dark eyebrows knitting together. “I suspected all along,” he said in a slow drawl. “But I wasn’t sure until you kissed me. Let’s just say…you two don’t kiss alike.”

“TMI,” she managed to say, not about to encourage anything more about her sister’s kissing habits.

“TMI?”

“Too much information.”

“You asked me,” he pointed out.

“I didn’t kiss you, though. You kissed me.” Big difference. How could men be so deluded? Marley hated to generalize, but it wasn’t just Cash who seemed too full of himself. Lots of men overestimated their prowess. Marley was hardly the first woman to notice, either. History was full of astute women who had managed to pick up on this. “I did nothing,” she clarified, hoping he understood. “I sat there in stunned silence.”

Those inky eyes, so alive with shadow, widened. “Really?”

Why didn’t he seem to believe her? “Just now—” Marley jerked her thumb back toward the studio. “When you kissed me,” she continued, placing correct emphasis on the pronouns, “my mouth dropped open in shock. Maybe you saw more into that than it really was, Cash.”

“Maybe so,” he said, the words running together like molasses, his lips pursing pensively, “and since I pride myself on paying close attention, Marley, I have to apologize. I don’t know what confused me more, the way you flung your arms around my neck, or the way you went at me with all that tongue action.”

“Do men really say things like this?” she muttered. “Tongue action?”

He looked like he was fighting a smile. “Apparently, some do.”

Had she used her tongue? Had she wrapped her arms around his neck? Shutting her eyes briefly, she tried to remember, but she drew a blank. Surely, he was wrong. She’d remember if she’d kissed him back. “Look,” she began diplomatically, opening her eyes. “On this issue, let’s agree to disagree. Apparently, we each have our own version.”

Before he could contradict her, she quickly cleared her throat. “And my being on the show wasn’t intentional,” she plunged on. “Edie had nothing to do with it. She doesn’t even know. She asked me to come here, but not to be on the show with you. I mean, it’s not like we were trading places with each other, the way we did when we were kids.” He was looking at her expectantly, so she added, “It’s a long story….”

“I’ve got all night.”