An identical twin.
He oughtn’t to have been surprised, yet somehow the news still came as a shock to him. So, Sarina Woodville was standing in for her twin sister—an engaged Sarina Woodville at that, if the notice showing her and her fiancé in a local paper was any indicator. So why was she here instead; and where the hell was Sara? What scheme lay behind those identically beautiful faces? The web information he’d attained showed they came from fairly humble beginnings. Clearly, money was an enticement—how else would they maintain the kind of lifestyle and extravagance he’d seen Sara indulge in? Her riding sponsorship could only go so far and eventing was an expensive sport.
Even though the del Castillo wealth had diminished somewhat over the years—the result of the curse in action, as Abuelo would insist, Reynard thought with an ironic curve of his lips—the family was very well-placed in Sagradan society. And they were definitely wealthy enough to attract a scam. Estella Martinez had been a perfect example of that. Maybe in this case, the twins had decided that two scammers were better than one?
Anger welled from deep within. Slow and determined and gathering momentum until his body vibrated with suppressed energy. How dare they assume they could hoodwink his family? There was one thing he knew they would learn—no del Castillo would ever tolerate being played for a fool. No scandal had previously destroyed them; it had only made them stronger.
He thought for a moment of Abuelo, of his current infirmity and the ever present risk of another stroke. Was that going to be their angle? he thought. Were they going to somehow lure him into trouble and then threaten to expose him to his grandfather? Risk an old man’s health, his fears of an ancient curse and the ghost of a governess who’d been dead three hundred years, for the sake of money?
What was their aim? Did they think they could use their switch to make him look a fool? Engaged to one woman while possibly bedding another? Was that how they planned to use their switch for financial gain? The papers would lap it up, paying huge money for exclusive rights to the story. Or was their aim like Estella’s? To threaten to expose the story in a bid to get more money to keep quiet?
Anyone who knew his family knew that they would do anything to protect their own. And that was exactly what he was going to do. Protect his family—and if that meant ensuring he became a great deal closer to this Sarina Woodville, he’d do whatever it took.
Reynard took another sip of his wine, savoring the flavor, and allowing his mind to roam. Yes, he knew exactly what tack he’d take now that he had the upper hand in this charade the Woodville sisters were employing. They would discover they had met their match, and as his lethal anger came under control, he began to find himself strangely exhilarated by the upcoming challenge.
Rina looked at her reflection through bleary eyes. Last night had been the worst she’d had since arriving on the island. The worst since Jacob had broken off their engagement, actually.
Sara had called late in the night. The line had been bad, reception patchy at best, but her message had been quite clear. Whatever she was going through was taking a massive emotional toll on her and she was relying on Rina to keep things together in Isla Sagrado for her. To keep up the charade until she was strong enough to come back. Wracked with guilt over the kiss she had shared with Rey, a kiss she’d wished could go on forever, Rina had promised she’d do whatever it took.
Her sister had called upon her for help, albeit in typical Sara fashion with all too little notice and even less detail, and Rina had betrayed her. Worse, she’d actively enjoyed it.
Rina pressed her fingers to her lips, the memory of Rey’s mouth against hers still too vivid in her mind. She’d succumbed to his touch as if she’d been made for him and him alone, and in doing so she’d broken every unwritten law of sisterhood. She’d kissed her sister’s fiancé and, God help her, she wanted to do it again. In fact, she wanted more than that. She wanted all of him, over and over again.
She reached for the taps over the white porcelain sink and turned on the cold water with a sharp twist of a shaking hand. This was all wrong. She and Sara had never been attracted to the same man before. They hadn’t even so much as liked the same type, let alone ever had to worry about poaching on one another’s ground.