The Groom's Stand-In. GINA WILKINS
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An eminently practical man himself, Donovan supposed he couldn’t blame Chloe for keeping her eyes on the bottom line, but he still didn’t approve of this whole arrangement. Bryan deserved better than to be married for his money.
Donovan believed his friend was overreacting to his last failed romantic relationship. Bryan had been burned by a woman who had convinced him that she wanted him for himself, not his money. The truth of that ruse had been revealed when she’d gone ballistic at the first mention of the rather strict prenuptial agreement that Bryan’s team of attorneys had drafted years earlier. She hadn’t been a good enough actress to convince anyone that the extent of her outrage couldn’t be measured in dollar signs.
Because it hadn’t been the first time Bryan had been deceived, he had come to the conclusion that the only way he could be certain of a potential mate’s motives was to have everything spelled out from the beginning. He wanted children, and he wanted to raise them in a conventional two-parent family. He’d decided he should approach marriage the same way he started a new business—with legal contracts, long-term planning, calculated risks and clearly defined benefits.
Donovan had tried to point out that one didn’t choose a wife the same way one hired a financial officer, but Bryan had shrugged off the admonition. To him, it had seemed like a perfectly logical plan.
He’d told Donovan about the day in February when he had wandered into Chloe’s shop while on a break from a day-long meeting being held nearby. They’d started talking, then had somehow ended up having coffee together at the popular River Market pavilion. Bryan claimed to have known very quickly that Chloe was exactly the sort of woman he’d been searching for since he’d made the decision a few months earlier to enter into a practical marriage.
Donovan had never been accused of being even remotely romantic, but Bryan’s plan seemed too cold and calculated even for him. He couldn’t help wondering if someday Bryan was going to feel that he’d settled for less than he could have had, if he would always be aware that something important was missing.
Since he himself had no strong desire to reproduce, Donovan figured his way was easier—he didn’t plan to marry anyone. Any relationships he entered into were strictly short-term and no-strings, so motives didn’t really matter.
He was convinced that his strategy was the most practical of all.
They’d been on the road for almost an hour when Donovan realized that Chloe’s posture was still unnaturally rigid. Her hands were still laced tightly together, her short pink nails digging into skin.
“Are you okay?” he couldn’t resist asking. “My driving isn’t making you nervous or anything, is it?”
His question brought her head around. “Of course not. You seem to be an excellent driver. I’m not nervous about anything at all.”
Definitely a lie, he decided, glancing again at her telltale hands. “You just seemed a little tense.”
“I’m fine.” She looked straight ahead again as she spoke. “What is it you do in Bryan’s organization, exactly?”
He shrugged. “Whatever he needs me to do.”
“Such as escorting me today?”
Since the answer to that seemed obvious, he allowed it to pass.
“You’ve been out of the country for the past few months,” she tried again. “In…Italy?”
“Venice. I was there for almost three months.”
“That must have been very nice.”
“It was business.”
She twisted in her seat, tugging at the seat belt to allow her to look at him more closely. “Surely you took some time off for sightseeing.”
“Not much,” he admitted. “I was only supposed to be over there a couple of weeks. Problems kept cropping up to detain me. I was just trying to get everything settled so I could get back to the States.”
“You must have missed your family.”
“I don’t have family. I had a lot of work piling up here that I needed to attend to.”
“I see.” She settled back into her seat again.
Because he knew Bryan wanted him to keep Chloe entertained, Donovan tried to think of something interesting to say about his weeks in Venice. “The food was good.”
“I’m sure it was.”
“And the sunrises were nice,” he added. “I had a balcony, and I would sit out there and have coffee early in the mornings while I read through paperwork.”
The enthusiasm of her response to that made him glad he’d gone to the extra conversational effort. “That must have been spectacular!” She lifted her clasped hands to her chest as she apparently tried to visualize the scene he’d described so sparingly. “I’ve always wanted to travel. To see some of the places I’ve only read about until now.”
“When you marry Bryan, you’ll be able to travel as much as you want.” As he was sure she was aware.
She lowered her hands slowly to her lap. “If I marry Bryan,” she corrected him, her voice a bit cool again.
“The gossip columnists seem to think it’s all been decided.” And he imagined the rumors were correct. Despite her affront at implications that she would marry Bryan for his money, why wouldn’t she want to marry a multimillionaire who could take her to all those places she’d always wanted to visit?
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s something I’m still having trouble getting used to—being in the gossip columns, I mean.”
He shrugged again. “You’d better get used to it. For some reason, people seem to be fascinated with Bryan. Everything he does makes the papers.”
Money, he thought, had a way of drawing attention. Combine a lot of money with Bryan’s good looks, impressive family background, unerringly shrewd business decisions, personal charisma and single status, and the result was that he was included on every Most Eligible Bachelor list published in North America.
Just the hint that Bryan’s name might soon be removed from those lists had the gossips all abuzz with curiosity, despite Bryan’s efforts to keep his personal life private. Someone had apparently tipped off the tabloids about his interest in Chloe, much to Bryan’s displeasure.
That was another reason Bryan had asked Donovan to play escort on this trip. He’d been concerned that Chloe might find herself annoyed by reporters. Donovan rarely had that problem. For some reason, they took one look at him and quietly put away their notebooks.
“One of the so-called reporters called me Zoe,” Chloe muttered, “and another said it was Grace that Bryan’s been seeing.”
Donovan wondered if her disgruntled tone was because she’d been in the papers at all—or because they hadn’t gotten her name right. “The way your sister was talking earlier, I doubt that she appreciated seeing her name linked with Bryan’s,” was all he said.
Chloe