Stand-In Bride's Seduction

After her shower, Rina grabbed the first thing off the top of her open suitcase and dragged it over her barely dry body, and headed into the open-plan sitting room where she searched for a phone.

Ten minutes later she had exactly what she needed. Thanking Isla Sagrado’s multilingual culture, and the high profile of the del Castillo family, not to mention the helpfulness of the information operator, for making the process so straightforward, she made another quick call and ordered a taxi to collect her and take her into the city, Puerto Seguro, and Reynard’s offices.

By the time Rina arrived at the tasteful high-rise in the downtown section of the port city, she was running on pure nerves. Having been the recent recipient of such a break in relations, she was wary of how to approach this. What did you say to someone you’d never met before when you wanted to tell him that his engagement was very likely on shaky ground?

She smoothed trembling hands over the sleeveless beige silk dress she’d pulled on in such a hurry and hoped her hair wasn’t already escaping the casual twist. She’d secured it with a couple of topaz-colored jeweled clips she’d found scattered, in typical Sara-like fashion, on the bathroom vanity.

A quick scan of the floor directory next to the bank of elevators gave her the last bit of information she needed. Rina stepped into one of the elevator cars and pressed the button for the twenty-first floor. Her stomach lurched as the car started its upward journey, and all the while she ran through her head what she needed to say.

The corridor that faced her as she stepped out was vast and empty. The muted tones of elegant piped music filtered through discreetly placed ceiling speakers. Directly ahead of her was a matched pair of large wooden doors, each one displaying an ornate carving that was, no doubt, the del Castillo family crest. Rina stepped forward and ran her fingertips over the raised edges of the stylized shield divided into three sections. In one was an intricately carved sword, in another a scroll or parchment of some description and the bottom section held an ornate heart. Her patchy Spanish translated the words.

Honor. Truth. Love.

She swallowed. If the man she was coming to see lived by the ancient code of his family, then she was definitely doing the right thing by coming here and telling him the truth. It was the only thing she could do.

Rina pushed against the brass doorplate at the very same moment the door in question swung abruptly away from her. With all her energy moving forward, she stumbled and suddenly fell against an immovable rock of a hard male body clad in a perfectly tailored charcoal gray suit.

Large, warm hands swiftly cupped her elbows and steadied her. Balanced on her feet now, Rina summoned a smile and looked up. Instantly, her heart skittered in her chest as she took in the perfection of male beauty in the face above hers.

A broad, tanned forehead, strong dark brows over clear hazel eyes edged with short, dark lashes. A perfectly balanced face bisected by a straight nose that had obviously never been on the wrong end of a tackle in a rugby game, and finely chiseled lips that were even now curving in a smile that held a strange combination of recognition and relief.

“Thank God you’re here,” he murmured, his voice a deep caress that she felt as though it was a stroke of velvet across her skin.

“Mr. del Castillo. Your brother says he’ll meet you at the hospital,” the receptionist at the vast modern desk behind him said.

The young woman’s words sank slowly into Rina’s mind. Mr. del Castillo? This man, who looked like he’d be better suited to the cover of GQ magazine than a conference room, was her sister’s fiancé, Reynard del Castillo?

Two

Before she realized what was happening, Rina found herself spun around and, her hand firmly locked in his, was marched swiftly toward the elevators.

“Sara! I’ve been trying to reach you for the past hour! I tried both your cell and your home phone because I wasn’t sure you were back on the island. I don’t know why you refused to tell me the details on your flight information. I could have picked you up from the airport. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I—” she began. Her mind raced to catch up with him. Cell phone. Of course, Sara must be ignoring his calls. With her own number being New Zealand based, on global roaming, she knew she couldn’t just say she’d changed numbers. Think, she told herself, what would Sara do or say? Rina latched onto the easiest response. “I’m sorry—I lost my phone while I was away. You know what I’m like.”