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  “Let’s call it a draw. I’ll keep my lascivious thoughts to myself, and you’ll keep your hands to yourself.” He looked charmingly repentant, and so much like the real Alex when he was trying to worm his way back into someone’s good graces that a fist closed around her heart.

  He held out a hand. He had strong, beautiful hands, worker’s hands, with long, elegant fingers. She couldn’t remember Alex’s hands at all. “Truce?” he said, charming. Lying.

  She looked at his hand pointedly. “Over my dead body.”

  She expected rage from him. Contempt and fury. Instead his smile widened, into one of knowing smugness that was still infuriatingly attractive. “Ah, Carolyn,” he murmured. “You’re going to be such fun to convince.” And then he was gone, closing the door softly behind him.

  Chapter Five

  THE THIRD OF THE elder MacDowell siblings, Patsy, was a piece of cake, Alex thought smugly, surveying her across the dinner table. She didn’t care whether he was the real Alex or not, as long as he didn’t tax her concentration. She was on something—he’d kicked around the world for too long not to recognize even the subtle symptoms, but Patsy was in a pleasant enough fog, aided by a suitably impressive Cabernet.

  Her three children were another matter. George the Pig was looking at him as if he were a wild-eyed terrorist out to bomb everyone into oblivion. Tessa was tossing her auburn mane of hair every chance she got, glaring at him out of her magnificent, smoldering eyes, and doing everything she could to remind him that she was a) a highly paid and much sought-after fashion model and b) she didn’t believe him for a moment.

  She was getting a little long in the tooth for high fashion, Alex thought cynically. She had to be near thirty, though she looked a decade younger, fighting the encroachments of age with the dedication of her mother. The little sneer that pursed her collagen-enhanced lips was going to leave nasty little wrinkles if she didn’t watch it.

  Grace, the youngest of the cousins, would have been six when Alex left, and there was no way he would have remembered her. She seemed a cut above her self-absorbed siblings. He might even go so far as to say she was pleasant, except that she barely spoke to him, though when she did she was civil enough. She spent the entire time talking in a corner with Carolyn, while the other cousins concentrated on Alex and ignored Carolyn completely.

  As did Sally. She hadn’t felt up to sitting at the table, but she held court in her bedroom, and Ruben had wheeled her hospital bed to the French doors that opened onto the formal dining room so that she could be a part of it all. He could feel her eyes watching him, and he wondered what she was thinking. Whether deep in her heart she really believed he was Alexander MacDowell.

  It didn’t matter—she wasn’t about to protest. Or call for proof, or DNA testing, or any of the like, of that much he was absolutely certain. She’d made up her mind that he was her son, and nothing would make her change it.

  “Carolyn?” Her soft voice, weak from pain, nevertheless carried down to the end of the table, where Carolyn sat with Grace.

  There was immediate, dutiful silence in the room. Carolyn rose, and as usual he had to admire her grace, even in the boring gray cocktail dress she’d worn down to dinner. Without effort she made Tessa seem overblown and obvious, and anyone with taste wouldn’t look twice at the famous beauty.

  But Carolyn wasn’t interested in clothes, adornment, or his opinion, he thought wryly, watching her out of hooded eyes. As he’d watched her all night long, now that she was no longer capable of avoiding him so assiduously.

  “Are you tired, Aunt Sally?” she asked solicitously. “I’ll have Ruben bring you back to bed—”

  “Don’t fuss over me, child!” Sally’s faint smile took most of the sting out of the reprimand. “I’m just fine. I’m perfectly capable of knowing when I’m tired or not. I have a favor to ask you, darling. If it’s not too much of an imposition.”

  Alex kept his expression bland. He suspected Carolyn would have slashed her wrists for Sally, but they obviously preferred to keep up the polite fiction. He couldn’t figure out what Sally had ever done to deserve such devotion, but Carolyn was obviously loyal to a fault.

  “Anything,” Carolyn said rashly.

  “Alex and I were talking,” Sally said, and Carolyn’s eyes narrowed, though she kept herself from glancing toward him. “He wondered where that childhood portrait is? You remember, the one I had done when he was twelve?”

  “You got rid of it,” she said flatly.

  “Don’t be absurd, Carolyn,” Warren protested. “That was a Wicklander portrait—they’re worth their weight in gold. She wouldn’t have thrown it out.”

  “I didn’t mean that. I meant that she was so upset she couldn’t bear to look at it anymore,” Carolyn said, and this time she did toss an angry glare in Alex’s direction.

  “Where is it, Carolyn? Is it in storage?” George demanded, sounding, if possible, even more pompous than his elderly uncle. George had been born with an old soul, sour and disapproving, a fact that was at odds with his strikingly handsome appearance. As a child he’d been a sneak and a tattletale, as an adult he simply passed judgment on all around him.

  “It’s in the Edgartown house,” she said reluctantly.

  “That’s what I thought. I want it back,” Sally said.

  “I’ll make arrangements to have it shipped—”

  “No! I don’t want to wait, and besides, as Warren pointed out, it’s a Wicklander. It’s too valuable to be entrusted to any commercial company. I don’t want strangers rummaging around my house. The Vineyard house is a family treasure—we don’t want to endanger it.”

  Did she know what was coming? Alex thought lazily. She looked wary, but trusting.

  “What do you want me to do about it, Aunt Sally?” Carolyn said.

  Sally gave her the smile that had charmed men, women, and children for all of her seventy-eight years. “I knew I could count on you, darling. I want you to drive down there and get it.”

  “Of course I will,” she said warmly.

  “Alex prefers to use his own car, even though I told him the Rover would be better—”

  “Alex?” Her voice was a strangled shriek of horror. He gave in to temptation and gave her a beatific smile.

  “I told Mother I wanted to see the Edgartown house again, and that I’d be happy to drive you. That way you won’t have to drive all that way alone.”

  “I like driving alone,” she said sharply.

  “And the portrait’s fairly big. You’ll need help with it.”

  “I don’t need help with anything.” The harshness of her words momentarily silenced the room, and Sally looked at her out of wide, hurt eyes.

  “Carolyn!” Sally protested in shock. “You’ll make Alex feel unwelcome.”

  “Of course he’s welcome,” Carolyn said through her teeth, and he was reminded of the phrase, ‘spitting nails.’ “I just think you’d be a lot happier with him keeping you company. After all, you have all those years to catch up on—”

  “You won’t be gone that long, Carolyn,” Sally said with a long-suffering patience calculated to infuse Carolyn with guilt. “Just one night, or two at the absolute most. I’m not about to drop dead in the next few days, you know. It would mean a great deal to me.” She didn’t bother to wheedle. She knew she had Carolyn in the palm of her hand.

  Carolyn caved, as he’d expected her to. Obviously, she was saving her fighting strength for him. “Of course I’ll go,” she said with deceptive calm. “And if Alex wants to drive, then I’m sure that will make things easier. I don’t think we need to be gone for the night, though. If we leave early enough we can be at the Woods Hole ferry by midmorning, and be back here late the same night.”

  “I wouldn’t want you to push. You’ve given up so much to take care of me—you’ve been at my beck and call fo
r the last eight months. Enjoy yourself with a handsome young man.” Alex kept his face gravely composed, but she glared at him anyway. Before she could say anything, Tessa broke in.

  “Carolyn’s never been particularly interested in handsome young men, Aunt Sally,” she said airily. “She likes them stuffy and intellectual. If you want I’ll be happy to drive down to the Vineyard with Cousin Alex. It would give us a chance to catch up on old times.”

  Not what he wanted at all. Tessa was only a bit player in this particular drama. He couldn’t care less whether she believed he was the real Alex MacDowell or not. Carolyn was a different matter, and he wasn’t interested in wasting time. Looking at Sally’s pale, pain-wracked face, he knew there wasn’t time to spare.

  “That’s a wonderful idea!” Carolyn sounded positively exuberant at the thought of her reprieve. “I can stay here and make sure everything runs smoothly and Tessa—”

  “No,” Sally said, and there was no disputing the finality of her voice. “I may be dying, but I’m still in charge of this household. You aren’t needed to run things, Carolyn. Constanza is entirely capable of seeing to matters, and besides, my sister and brother will be here. You’ve been cooped up with me all winter, and I want you to get out in the real world for a change.”

  “But I don’t want to.” She sounded like a stubborn child. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

  Sally closed her eyes, suddenly looking very tired. “Don’t fight me on this, Carolyn,” she said wearily. “I really don’t have the strength for it.”

  Game, set and match, Alex thought, as Carolyn’s face flushed with guilt.

  “When do you want us to go?” she asked.

  Sally’s smile was dazzlingly bright, but the wily old lady didn’t overplay her hand. “That’s my girl,” she murmured weakly.

  And Carolyn managed a weak smile in return.

  CAROLYN’S HANDS were shaking so hard she dropped the bottle of tranquilizers onto the deserted kitchen floor. The small yellow pills spilled out over the wide oak plank, rolling under the huge refrigerator, and she watched them go with a blank expression. Sally’s doctor had prescribed them, insisting she might need them during Sally’s long, slow journey toward death.

  She hadn’t touched them until Alexander MacDowell had showed up. If things didn’t take a sharp turn for the better, she was going to need every one of those little yellow pills and more besides.

  She knelt down, scooping them up, when she heard someone push open the kitchen door. There was never any question who it was, she thought bitterly. Of the nine people in the house, it could only be the one person she most wanted to avoid.

  “What are you scrabbling around on the floor for?” George’s faintly supercilious baritone startled her into dropping the pills she had.

  She ignored them, rising gracefully, too distracted by the unavoidable knowledge that she was disappointed it wasn’t Alex, when she’d been so certain it would be. “Can I help you, George?”

  George, like his sister, had fashion-model looks and the personality to match. “I’m hungry. You want to rustle me up a sandwich?”

  “No.” She’d learned long ago how to deal with George. He was a user, adept at getting people to do what he wanted, and she had no intention of joining his mother and sisters in catering to his whims.

  George shrugged, obviously expecting her answer, and slouched on into the kitchen. His tan was deep and perfect, the product of his top-of-the-line health club. It kept his body in excellent shape as well, and he had a tendency to close in on people, press that trim, well-muscled flesh against them. Carolyn kept the kitchen island between them.

  “So what do you think of him, Caro?” he asked casually. “Do you think he’s the real McCoy?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea. It’s no skin off my nose—I wasn’t in line for any of Sally’s money anyway, except indirectly, and I have more than enough for my needs.”

  “I find that hard to believe.”

  George’s smile revealed small, perfect teeth. “Well, I will admit that the more money, the better. But I’m a patient man—and good things come to those who wait. You, on the other hand, have a very great deal to lose if this man is actually who he says he is.”

  She stared at him stonily. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “Oh, I’m not talking about money,” he said softly. “After all, we both know you aren’t legally family. I’m sure Sally’s left you a generous stipend, but you’re a clever girl. You wouldn’t be expecting more. No, you stand to lose something more important than money.”

  “I didn’t think you realized there was anything more important than money, George.”

  But George was undeterred. “You’ll lose Sally’s single-minded devotion. For the last few months she’s been totally dependent on you, and you’ve had her all to yourself. She won’t need you anymore, Caro. She’ll have Sonny Boy for love and affection. You’ll be relegated to the position of unpaid companion.” George was not the brightest of men, but he had a certain animal instinct shared by the rest of his family, and he had an uncanny ability to draw blood. Fortunately, Carolyn was expecting it.

  “I’m not worried about it, George. My apartment’s still waiting for me back in Boston, and I shouldn’t have any trouble finding another job. Though it’s very nice of you to be so concerned about me.”

  He blinked, and then his smile widened as he recognized the irony. “If he’s an imposter, Carolyn, it’s up to you to expose him.”

  “Why me?”

  “Because you’re here, for Christ’s sake. You knew him better than any of us, and you’ll be around him day and night. This little visit to Edgartown will give you the perfect time to get to know him better. See if you can trip him up in some of his lies.”

  “Lies?” she echoed. “You don’t believe he’s the real Alexander?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’m a careful man. I watch, and I listen. As I said, it’s not my money, but since it belongs to my beloved aunt, I don’t want to see her handing it over to some criminal.”

  “Noble of you,” Carolyn said lightly.

  He moved closer. “Listen, Caro, why don’t you come down to New York after you get back from the Vineyard? I know you must miss the city, living up here in the boonies. We could go out, have a good time. I know a marvelous Moroccan restaurant that you’d adore.”

  She stared at him in disbelief. “Why would I do that?”

  “You can tell me what you’ve found out about Alex. And you know I’ve always liked you. You’re a very attractive woman, Carolyn.” He dropped his voice to a husky note that was obviously supposed to sound seductive.

  The swinging door opened, and Tessa strode in, breaking up the awkward moment. “I’ve been looking for you, Carolyn. You’re needed. Warren, Mother, and Grace want to play bridge, and I’d rather slash my wrists.”

  “No.” It was the second time she’d told a MacDowell no, and the experience was heady. “Sorry, I have too much to do. They’ll have to play three handed.”

  “Don’t be absurd. I’m sure whatever you have to do can wait,” Tessa said grandly.

  “No.” Number three. Carolyn was so pleased with herself she even managed a gracious smile. “They’ll have to entertain themselves.”

  Without another word she scooted around the kitchen island, leaving the pills scattered over the wooden floor, making a graceful escape.

  DESPITE THE extensive remodeling, the MacDowell family compound wasn’t large enough to comfortably encompass the entire extended family. With the newcomer in Alex MacDowell’s remodeled bedroom, and Tessa and Grace sharing her old one, Carolyn was officially dispossessed. Patsy, Warren, and George had claimed the three self-contained suites, and there was no moving them, short of using dynamite.

  Which
left Carolyn with a foldout sofa in the library.

  Normally she didn’t mind. But these weren’t normal times. George was getting odd ideas. Warren was far too chummy, and worst of all, there was a lying stranger in the house.

  On top of that, the library was the room equipped with a large-screen TV and a bar, and two of the younger MacDowells had taken up residence there.

  At least Alex had made himself scarce. Probably sucking up to Aunt Sally, Carolyn thought bitterly. She didn’t know how she was going to survive the next few days, the next few weeks. The very thought of being trapped in a car with him for untold hours filled her with dread. He disturbed her, in ways she didn’t even want to think about. He was a liar and a cheat and possibly far worse, and there was nothing she could do or say to stop him from using the MacDowells for his own nefarious purposes.

  It was a huge, rambling house, but she had nowhere to hide. The older generation was in the living room, the younger in the library. She didn’t dare go back to the kitchen, even to retrieve her scattered pills, and it was a bitterly cold night. She wasn’t in the mood for another moonlight stroll, especially considering who she’d run into last time.

  It was after one in the morning when Tessa and George finally decided to vacate the library. Carolyn waited until the house was still and quiet, secure in the knowledge that everyone was asleep, before she crept back to the kitchen to find her tranquilizers.

  They were gone. Some helpful soul had cleaned up, and there was no sign of the scattered pills or the empty bottle. She could only hope Constanza had returned to the kitchen to make certain everything was cleared away after midnight raids and the like, but she doubted she’d be so lucky.

  Constanza had moved most of her clothes to the bedroom Tessa and Grace now occupied, but at least she’d managed to grab an armful and stash them in the little-used storage room. She threw on an enveloping flannel nightgown and headed for the dubious comfort of the foldout sofa, travel alarm firmly in hand. Most of the MacDowells would be sleeping late, but she wasn’t about to be caught in bed by any of them.