The charade—pretending to be happy for Sam and Celia—was really killing her despite the brave front she was putting up. But this mysterious, cat-ate-the-canary look on Celia’s face had caused her to forget her own bruised heart and piqued her curiosity.
To be honest, it made her uneasy.
Celia had always been the devious one, but given her looks, she had always been able to get away with things others in her position wouldn’t have been able to.
“Watch and learn what?” Zoe finally asked when Celia said nothing further. Her sister just continued smirking at her reflection, as if some huge secret existed between her and the mirrored image.
“Why, how to trap a man of your choice, of course, little sister.”
Zoe hated that condescending tone. Celia used it often with her. “What are you talking about, Celia?” Zoe asked impatiently.
Celia turned away from the mirror to look at her. “Why, Sam, of course. I’m talking about Sam. My future beloved.” She laughed then, clearly delighted with herself.
Zoe moved in closer, discreetly sniffing the air between them. “Have you been drinking, Celia?”
“Not yet, but I will be soon,” Celia assured her with a wink. “That’s what got him, you know. Drinking. And now I’m going to be wrapping him around my little finger—him and that lovely Colton money of his.”
Zoe was beginning to get a very uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was very off. “English, Celia, speak English.”
Celia blew out a breath, and shook her head. “You know, you really are no fun, Zoe. Lucky for you I’m in such a good mood.”
As if to underscore what she’d just said, Celia began softly humming the bridal march under her breath.
This one time, Zoe didn’t allow her sister to put her off. She intended to get to the bottom of this. Celia seemed too pleased with herself for it to be some inconsequential trivial thing.
“What did you do, Celia?” she asked in a firm, quiet voice, her eyes never leaving Celia’s.
Of the two of them, Celia was the vivacious one, the one who had always turned heads. The one who could have any boyfriend she wanted and who could talk her way out of anything. Celia was just that stunning.
As for her, Zoe knew she had to content herself to live in Celia’s shadow. But for the most part, she was okay with that. She loved her sister, even though at times that wasn’t nearly as easy as it should have been.
But what Celia was alluding to was sending an icy cold shiver down her spine and Zoe intended to find out just what her sister was talking about.
Now.
“You seem very pleased with yourself, Celia.” Flattery had always been the way to go with her sister. “Why don’t you tell me why?”
Celia looked as if she was just bursting with her accomplishment and utterly enthralled with what she’d managed to do. “Sam’s marrying me to give his baby a name.”
Zoe’s eyes opened so wide, they almost hurt. “What baby?”
“Exactly,” Celia countered smugly, her eyes dancing.
Zoe caught hold of her sister’s shoulder to keep her from turning back to the mirror. “Celia, stop speaking in riddles. You’re going to be marching down the aisle in a few minutes. Tell me what you’re talking about.”
Had she thought it would do any good, she would have issued an ultimatum to her sister—that she couldn’t leave the small room until she came clean. But Zoe knew Celia would only laugh at her and then it would get ugly from there. All she could hope for at this point was to wear Celia down.
“You do take the fun out of things, you know that, right?” Celia accused, annoyed. And then she laughed. She was far too pleased with herself to let the occasion be ruined by her annoying younger sister—who did, after all, have her uses. “Sam and I never even slept together.”
Zoe’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t understand. If you didn’t sleep together, then why would he think you’re carrying his baby?” Something was really, really wrong here.
Celia sighed. Spelling it out took a little of the drama, not to mention fun, out of it.
“Because one night, after he’d killed that awful criminal he’d been chasing, he came to my place just to unwind and talk. Seems killing doesn’t sit well with Sam,” she added with offhanded sarcasm. “Anyway, he was upset and I just kept plying him with whiskey until he totally passed out on my sofa. Then I messed up my place to make it look like we made wild, passionate love all over the living room. When he woke up, I shyly told him I’d never done ‘anything like that before.’”
That in itself was a lie, Zoe thought. Celia had slept with several men who she knew of in the past couple of years. There’d probably been more.
“Two months later, I came to his place and tearfully told him that I was pregnant with his baby.” Her grin all but split her face. “That’s when he offered to ‘do the right thing,’ just like I knew he would,” Celia said, absolutely pleased with herself. And then she spread her arms wide and declared, “And here we are.”
Stunned, Zoe didn’t even know where to begin to unravel all this. “Then you’re not—”
“Nope,” Celia responded. Zoe didn’t think it was humanly possible to be more pleased with herself than Celia was at this minute.
Didn’t Celia realize the dangerous game she was playing? We both know Sam wouldn’t put up with being lied to, Zoe thought.
She asked the first logical question that occurred to her. “What happens when the full nine months go by and there’s no baby?”
Celia waved away the very idea she was suggesting. “Oh, I’m not going to wait the full nine months. Sometime in the next month or so, I’ll tearfully tell him I lost our baby. Who knows?” She laughed with a careless half shrug. “He might even be relieved. And by then, it wouldn’t matter anyway—I’ll be married,” she concluded.
Since Zoe had dropped her hand from her shoulder, she turned away from her sister and went back to adjusting her veil and dress.
“I really do make a beautiful bride,” Celia complimented her reflection with feeling.
“You can’t get married to Sam under that pretext,” Zoe cried, staring at her in disbelief. “You have to tell him the truth.”
“No, I don’t.” And then Celia looked at her in the mirror, her face almost contorted with anger. “Oh, stop carrying on like this. After all, it’s not like Sam believes in love or marriage or even the almighty institution of family.” She paused to put another layer of lipstick on. “So marrying a woman he doesn’t love isn’t such a big deal.”
“And you’re okay with that?” Zoe asked incredulously. This had to be the lowest thing her sister had ever done, tricking someone into marrying her. “Marrying someone who isn’t in love with you? You’re really okay with that?”
Celia’s temper was just about at its end. “Of course I’m okay with that. Do you know how rich those Coltons are?”
“I don’t care if they’re richer then God,” Zoe exclaimed. “You can’t go through with this, Celia. It’s not right,” she insisted.
Celia tossed her head in that way of hers, the way that emulated queens ruling over small kingdoms.
“It’s more than ‘right,’ it’s perfect,” she countered, completely pleased with what she had brought about. “Now stop lecturing me like some dried-up old spinster with a house full of cats and get ready for the biggest bash this town has seen, bar none.”