THE TWIN IN HIS BED

CHAPTER FOUR

He wasn't supposed to be here. 

My mind repeated this thought uselessly, while my brain forgot to function. 

Arla said he wasn't due till next Friday. 

She was certain. 

Painfully certain.

“Carlton doesn't deviate from schedules. He'll be back next Friday. You only need to answer the house phone if he calls.”

So what was going on here? 

She'd said it so many times that I'd eventually believed her.

Now I wondered if she had ever known her husband at all.

Because standing before me was the one man who was supposed to be thousands of miles away.

Carlton Holland.

The husband I had spent the entire drive to the mansion convincing myself I would never have to meet.

My lungs forgot how to work.

Everything I'd memorized at the boutique—his call routines, the staff's names, where Arla kept her jewelry, which perfume she wore during the day and which one she wore at night—suddenly seemed laughably useless.

None of it had prepared me for him.

Carlton Holland stood a few feet away from me, damp skin glistening beneath muted amber glows. His towel hung dangerously low on narrow hips like decency was merely an afterthought. 

Worst part? 

He looked completely unbothered by my presence. 

No shock. No suspicion. 

Like this was a normal, everyday occurrence. 

This did not feel normal to me. Not in the slightest. 

“You look as though you've seen a ghost.” 

I heard the sound of his voice before I heard the words—if that makes any sense. 

Deep, rich timbre that sent jagged signals to my dying brain. 

I swallowed hard. 

I might as well be looking at one. Because, what was Arla's husband doing here?

She had said—REPETITIVELY— that he wouldn't return till next week. 

“You…” My throat felt parched, and the words were hard to form. “You weren't due back until next Friday.” 

One dark brow lifted slightly. 

My heart drummed. 

“Yes,” he shrugged. “Plans changed.” 

Plans changed? 

Just like that? 

Two words?

Like he hadn't just single-handedly destroyed the only sane route in this whole absurd idea. 

A thousand catastrophic thoughts crashed in my head all at once. 

My pulse thrummed, and I felt heady.

Did Arla know? Did he suspect something? Was that why she hung up suddenly? Was I going to jail? 

My mind chased one terrifying possibility after another.

Oh boy, I need to sit. 

If he'd returned because he suspected his wife….

Wouldn't he notice immediately that I wasn't his wife?

I suddenly became aware of everything.

The dress I was wearing. Did it fit as it should? 

The wedding ring on my finger.

The unfamiliar bedroom.

Even the way I was standing, was Arla's posture different?

Did she cross her arms?

Why hadn't I asked better questions?

Carlton disappeared into what I now realized was a walk-in closet.

Too relaxed. 

Meanwhile, I was one heartbeat away from a proper cardiac arrest. 

“I dislike Paris,” he said from the other room. 

I stood paralyzed in that spot. 

Paris?

“I've never understood why people romanticize it so much.”

Arla didn't even tell me where he had traveled to. 

Had he told her details she never thought to pass on?

Was he testing me already?

I was done for! 

He walked back into the room carrying neatly folded clothes. I watched every movement with exhausting concentration. He tossed the clothes on the bed. 

“Why are you still standing there?” he asked. 

My throat worked an answer, then…

He dropped the towel. 

“Jesus Christ!” 

Carlton stilled. 

I slapped both hands over my face. I peeped, but he remained standing, stark naked. 

“Oh my God—please put something on!” I shrieked. 

“What exactly are you doing?” He asked, his tone sharp.

I kept my eyes shut, hands over my face. 

“Could you not dress in front of me?!”

There was a little silence, but I could tell he hadn't moved. 

“You're joking right?” 

“No! I'm traumatized!” 

He chuckled. The sound was low, amusing and unexpected. 

What was funny? He just let me see his…oh my God! 

“You’ve seen me naked countless times.” 

Heat flooded my face violently I thought I'd combust into a red cloud. 

Arla! Not me! 

“Doesn't mean you should just…” 

Wait a minute! 

I was supposed to be Arla. Which means…

But this wasn't part of the plan! I was to answer when he called, play Mrs Holland, not seen his…

I peeped through my fingers. 

Oh my God! 

Why was he walking towards me!

Panic surged through me.

“Arla.” 

Something about the way he said her name made my stomach churn. 

It wasn't affectionate. 

It was observant. 

If he hadn't discovered our little ploy, then I was about to blow the lid off. 

 “You're acting strange.”

Think! 

Ellesmere. THINK! 

“I'm tired!” I blurted out without thought. 

Stupid. 

“We've known every inch of our bodies for the past two years,” he continued. 

I stepped back instinctively. 

I was really messing things up, but it couldn't be helped. 

“What's the sudden issue?” 

My pulse became defeaning. 

I was acting out, and he had the right to be suspicious. 

A wife didn't react this way to her husband. 

Yet, I couldn't stop backing away, and he didn't stop coming close. 

“Please…please just wear something…change somewhere else.” 

He stopped suddenly. 

Was it over? 

I looked up at his face. 

Then he broke into a soft laugh. 

Dread crawled up behind my neck. 

“A new game?” he asked. 

What? 

“Roleplaying? Is that what we're doing now?”

Fear lodged inside my throat. 

Then, he moved suddenly. 

Fast. 

A shriek escaped me before I could stop it, and the next thing I knew, my back hit the bed. 

Carlton pinned me down with his weight, one hand gripped my wrists, pinning them above my head and the other rested beside my head like an anchor so his weight didn't crush me. 

Fear froze my body beneath him. 

God. 

Up close, he was devastatingly beautiful. 

Cool skin. The smell of scented body wash clung to his skin. Grey eyes sharp like Katana. I felt him everywhere. And his…oh well…

My eyes shuttered tightly. 

“Look at me,” he said quietly. 

I couldn't. I didn't dare to. 

My heart thrummed hard within its cages. 

“Look at me.” 

The command came softer this time.

Yet, more dangerous. 

My lashes trembled, and fluttered open on their own. 

Carlton stared at me silently. 

Fear kept me locked under his scrutiny. 

One second. 

Two seconds.

Three…

“Shit!” 

For the first time since he walked out of the bathroom, he looked genuinely surprised. 

I was done for. 

“You almost had me fooled.”