Stand-In Wife by Karina Bliss Page B

feathery brown bangs clipped back in two garish butterflies, the sturdy little girl appeared like any other seven-year-old. However Ross knew that five minutes in her company was enough to make people remember that on both sides of the family she had uncles in the SAS and grandmothers who could politely be described as strong-minded.
    From birth she’d ruled the roost; lately Ross had noticed her dictatorship had become less than benevolent. Apart, her parents had become guilt-ridden putty in her Machiavellian hands. Since he’d started pointing this out to her father, Ross was no longer Tilly’s favorite uncle.
    Cheek pressed against her mother’s waist, she glared at him now, her gray eyes—same color as his—two chips of steely determination over a cute button nose and rosebud mouth. “Uncle Ross is making it up.”
    Meredith gathered her daughter close. “I’m afraid it’s true. Nana Lin really is dead.”
    “But I don’t want her to be,” she wailed. Normally that was all it took.
    “I know it’s hard.”
    Tilly pulled away from her mother. “You smell funny.”
    “I…have a new perfume.”
    “And you look different, too,” Tilly accused.
    “I put a color rinse through my hair and had it layered.” Meredith actually seemed scared of her seven-year-old’s disapproval. Ross shook his head.
    “Well, I don’t like it.” The little girl burst into sobs. “I want things to stay the same.”
    His irritation melted. She’d been through a lot lately; no wonder she was acting out.
    “Oh, Tilly,” Meredith took her daughter in her arms and rocked her. Seeing Tilly upset, Harry began to whimper. “It’s okay, darling,” Meredith called, then bent her head to Tilly’s. “Can we be brave while Harry’s in the same room? He’s upset seeing his big sister crying.”
    Tilly sobbed harder.
    Ross released his distressed nephew from his highchair. “Let’s go find Salsa and that orange, hey?” Leaving Meredith to soothe Tilly, he and Harry followed flecks of rind down the hall. Glancing outside, he saw Charlie had stopped in the garden to take a call on his cell.
    They found the dog next to the suitcase under the bed in the spare room, chewing on a strappy leopard print sandal with a lacy black G-string tangled around one paw. His sister-in-law was definitely leading a double life.
    “Bad dog,” said Ross approvingly and Salsa wagged his stubby tail. Then he looked beyond Ross and growled.
    “What are you doing in here?” Meredith said behind him, then caught sight of the half-chewed shoe and gasped. “Why didn’t you stop him?”
    “He already had it.” Ross hauled Salsa out by his collar and made him drop the shoe. She was genuinely upset. “Were they expensive?”
    Viv stared at the saliva-soaked fang-needled leather on her Christian Louboutin flats—then remembered she was Meredith. “Where would I get the money for expensive?”
    Ross gave the dog back her shoe.
    She couldn’t decide who to kill first. Concentrate, she told herself. There’d been a hairy moment when Tilly had told her she smelled funny but she’d handled it. Like she’d handled their early arrival, scrambling to hide her suitcase, change into Merry’s clothes and strip off her makeup between doorbell rings. Two down, three to—
    Viv jumped as she heard Charlie’s footfall in the hall. Trying to relax, she turned to greet him. In the past two years since she’d seen him, her brother-in-law had added some weight to his gorilla frame. But today he was a knuckle-dragging Kong with red-rimmed eyes and a little boy lost expression that had her moving forward to hug him before she could think about whether it was a smart idea.
    “Charlie, I’m so sorry.” She never could ignore someone’s hurt.
    For a moment he stood frozen in her embrace, then his arms came around her in a vice. “I know,” he said. “I know you are. I’m glad you were with her…for everything you did.” He let her go, struggling for