Switched At The Altar. Metsy Hingle
flicked a glance at the groom he’d mistaken for his brother. The man appeared to be making time with the bridesmaid. Alex swallowed. “I’ll just get out of your way and let you get back to your wedding.” Without wasting another moment, he turned to leave.
“Wait!” She caught his arm before he’d managed to take the first step. “Listen, I know I said you were great, and you were, but I still think it could use some work. Why don’t we try it again? Just do everything exactly the same way you did a few minutes ago.”
Alex’s jaw dropped. His body tensed. He couldn’t help it. His gaze fell to her lips and he felt that slap of heat again. “You want me to kiss you again?”
“Well, yes. That, too.” She gave him another of those lazy smiles that did strange things to his brain and made it difficult for him to think clearly. “But this time, be sure to wait for your cue.”
Alex blinked. “My cue?”
“Yes. When the reverend asks if there are any objections, that’s where you’re supposed to come in. Otherwise, do everything exactly the way you did it a minute ago,” she instructed him. “Your inflection was perfect, and I loved the ad lib, by the way. It was a nice touch. You can go ahead and leave it in.”
His inflection? The ad lib? What in the hell was she talking about?
“Oh, and be sure to do that steely-eyed thing that you did with your eyes again. For a minute there, you even had me believing you were serious about stopping the wedding.”
“I was serious,” Alex countered, growing more confused by the second. “I thought—” His tongue twisted in his mouth as she curved her lips into another one of those smiles and sent fire singing through his veins. “Damn!”
Her smile slipped. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Alex took a long, measured breath and struggled to regain control of the situation and of himself. “Lady, I don’t have a clue as to what you’re talking about.”
She tipped her head and eyed him curiously. “What is it you don’t understand?”
“I don’t understand anything you’ve said. I don’t know a thing about any cues or ad libs or steely-eyed looks. If I was convincing when I came in here and demanded you stop the wedding it’s because I thought I was stopping a wedding.”
“You thought this was a real wedding?”
“Yes.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And just whose wedding did you think you were stopping?”
“My brother’s.” He squeezed his eyes shut a moment, mortified to have made such a mistake. For a smart man who was considered to be great when it came to assessing businesses, he had just scored a big, fat zero in assessing this situation. If he’d been the least bit astute, he would have noted earlier what he saw now—a stage at the far end of the room, drapes drawn across that stage and a sign tacked to one curtain that read Wet Paint.
“I see,” she said, sighing. “Then I guess Bernie didn’t send you after all.”
Exasperated, Alex dragged a hand through his hair. “I don’t even know anyone named Bernie.”
“I was afraid of that. I don’t suppose there’s any chance that you’re an unemployed actor looking for work, is there?” she asked hopefully.
Alex almost laughed at the notion, and he would have if he weren’t feeling as though he’d wandered into the Twilight Zone. “Hardly. I’m an attorney. My name’s Alex Stone.”
Desiree nearly choked. This was Alexander Stone? This giant of a man with the eyes of a warrior and the face of a dark angel? This man whose kiss had made her blood spin? He was Kevin’s uptight, stuffy, older brother?
Desiree caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she studied him more closely. Of course, she could see his resemblance to Kevin now. And if she hadn’t been so wrapped up in the play and her reaction to him, maybe she would have spotted the similarities sooner. After all, the two men did share those same dark, good looks. But where Kevin’s hair curled a bit and brushed his collar, Alex’s was stick straight and shorter, making that sharp jaw of his appear even sharper—and for some reason more appealing to her. And where Kevin’s eyes were a warm brown that had roused an immediate sisterly affection in her, Alex’s eyes were hard and as black as a moonless sky. And when he’d looked at her, when those midnight eyes of his had snapped to life with desire, she had in no way been inclined with feelings that were sisterly.
Nope, Alexander Stone didn’t make her feel the least bit sisterly, Desiree admitted as she continued to study him. In fact, she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to really be kissed by him.
Like jumping from the frying pan into the fire, she told herself. Not only would it be stupid, but she didn’t have the time or the inclination to let her hormones get in the way. At least not now. Not when she had a dinner theater set to open in less than a month, and not when one of her players was still missing.
“And you are...?”
Desiree dragged her attention to Alex’s outstretched hand. As she placed her fingers in his palm, a shiver of awareness shimmied down her spine. Well, what do you know, she thought, a bit excited by her reaction to him. Ever since her sister Lorelei’s kidnapping and wedding a few months before to the man who’d been her first love, she’d found herself daydreaming and wishing she would meet someone special. And now here was Alexander Stone. “Desiree. My name’s Desiree.”
Alex’s fingers tightened around hers. “Desiree? You’re Desiree Mason?”
“Yes,” she said, surprised that he knew her full name, as well as by his quick release of her hand. “Did Kevin happen to mention me to you?”
“Oh, yes. He’s mentioned you all right.”
And judging by Alex’s chilled tone and the way his jaw had clenched, whatever Kevin had told his big brother about her hadn’t been to Alex’s liking.
“You’re the actress.”
He made the term actress sound as though it ranked right up there with the word thief. “Yes, I am.”
“I see,” he said coolly.
Talk about rotten karma. “It figures,” Desiree muttered. It was just her luck that the first man she’d been attracted to in ages would be a stick-in-the-mud Adonis in a custom-tailored suit with a chip the size of a boulder on his linebacker shoulders.
“What figures?”
“That you were just too good to be true.”
“I beg your pardon?”
Desiree doubted that Alexander Stone ever had to beg for anything—especially not from a woman. She shrugged. No way would she admit her foolish romantic thoughts to him or anyone else. “I was just thinking you’re a good actor,” she replied instead. “Too good for me to have mistaken you for a green drama student.”
“Thank you. I think.”
“If you ever decide to change professions, you should keep acting in mind. You’d be great on the stage.”
“I don’t think there’s much chance of that happening.”
Desiree grinned at his clipped reply. He looked as though even the thought of doing such a thing would be about as pleasant as a toothache. “One never knows. There are an awful lot of lawyers out there.”
“And according to statistics, there are just about as many would-be actors.”
“Probably because there are so many out-of-work lawyers. But I guess it’s to be expected.”
“And how do you figure that?”
“Well, from what I’ve seen of the legal system, there’s not a lot of difference between acting and lawyering. One