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RIGHT up to the minute she had boarded the plane Rukia kept hoping some other solution would present itself, but the doors had closed and she had been on her way to Mobile, Alabama, masquerading as her cousin Riruka kuchiki.
The waters of the Gulf of Mexico were a shimmering deep turquoise in the late afternoon sun as the plane made its approach to land. After checking her seat belt to be sure it was securely fastened, Rukia put a reassuring hand to her now dyed magenta hair, verifying that no loose strand had escaped the shining coil around her head. She had chosen the more sophisticated style to give her the poise she needed to carry out this daring charade. There was barely a crease in her warm apricot travelling suit, but she loosened the knotted neck scarf that matched the apricot and yellow flowered silk blouse. The soft features of her oval face looked serene and composed except for the deep blue of her eyes mirroring the anxiety that brought a dryness to her throat.
Rukia knew she was to be met at the airport. As the passengers disembarked, she listened intently for her cousin's name to be announced over the loudspeaker. She kept assuring herself that nothing could go wrong. Masaki Kurosaki, Ichigo's aunt, had no picture of Riruka and, at best, only the sketchiest details of what she looked like. With only the slightest stretch of the imagination, Rukia could fit the description with her now dyed magenta hair.
The palms of her hand became filmed with a nervous sweat as Rukia watched her fellow passengers being met by friends and relatives. She followed the mainstream of travellers to the baggage area, keeping her ear attuned to the loudspeaker. The more time that went by without hearing her cousin's name, the stronger the urge became to take the first plane back to Los Angeles. Tricking an old woman into believing she was Ichigo's fiancée seemed so deceitfully wrong, regardless of the motives.
Minutes later the assorted sizes of Riruka's scarlet suitcases were gathered around Rukia's feet. The sapphire ring on her finger felt as cold as ice, condemning her part in this charade. What was she to do now? she wondered anxiously. No one had come forward to meet her. Rukia had no address for Ichigo's aunt, only the name Masaki Kurosaki. The whole plan was becoming more hopeless with each heart-pounding second.
"Pardon me."
A hand touched her shoulder and she turned with a convulsive jerk. A tall young man with shiny black hair was smiling down at her. Her blue eyes were wide and frightened as she stared into his handsome face.
"Are you by any chance Riruka Kuchiki?"
Paralysing fear robbed rukia's of her speech. His searching Aqua marine eyes seemed to unmask her even as she nodded a hesitant assertion that she was Riruka.
"What a relief!" he laughed shortly, extending his hand towards her in
greeting. "I'm Kaien shiba. Masaki Kurosaki asked me to meet you, but I got caught up in traffic and your plane was already in when I arrived." His manner was apologetic, but matter-of-factly courteous. He was a man quite used to charming his way out of a situation. "I was just going to have you paged when I saw you standing here looking so …" his gaze roamed admiringly over her, "so lost."
High colour rose in her cheeks, her guilty conscience knowing that if she had truly been Riruka she would not have looked lost, but impatiently angry at being kept waiting. A glint of amusement gleamed from Kaien's eyes at the delicate blush in her cheeks. He appreciated rare and beautiful objects and knew he was looking at one.
"Are these your cases?" He politely redirected her thoughts, allowing her to compose herself.
"Yes," Rukia answered breathlessly, wondering if he thought their numbers too many for only a fortnight's visit, but Riruka had directed the packing, supplementing Rukia's scant wardrobe with her own. "I came prepared for any contingency," she explained with a nervous smile.
"You'll find the Gulf Coast climate is quite mild in the middle of February with a few cool, rainy days thrown in so one can appreciate the sunshine," kaien smiled, motioning to a porter to take the luggage. "My car is right outside."
A gentle hand on the back of her waist urged her towards the doors leading out of the airport. kaien ushered her towards a silver volkwagen parked near the kerb. Rukia watched as he supervised the loading of her suitcase in the boot, idly thinking a charming boy should have a charming car. Now that she was truly committed to carrying out the masquerade some of her tension eased.
She was able to smile quite naturally when kaien helped her into the passenger side of the car before he slipped behind the wheel.
"Is Mrs. Kurosaki's home very far?" she asked.
"A few miles outside of the city proper," he answered smoothly, putting the car into gear and driving out of the parking area. He slid a twinkling glance
her way.
"Have you known her long?" Rukia inquired.
"My father's estate adjoins hers, which is why I was deputised to meet you at the airport," he explained. "Masaki doesn't care for crowds or she would have met you herself. She's quite anxious to meet you, Riruka. I may call you Riruka?"
Rukia liked the soft way his eyes regarded her, mildly caressive without being objectionable, and his slow, drawling voice that was a balm to her jangled nerves. "My friends call me Rukia," she said with a quick breath, wishing she could so easily divorce herself from Riruka's plans as she did from her name.
"I would be pleased to call you Rukia, too, if you call me Kaien."
"Thank you… Kaien." A genuine smile lighting her face for the first time.
"I must confess," his attention returned to the road ahead of them, "the Judge—my father—and I had a bet as to what you would look like." At Rukia's wide-eyed look of surprise, kaien laughed. "You've been the subject of many curious speculations since the great Ichigo Kurosaki announced that he was engaged. Masaki had decided he would never marry."
Her hands were clenched tightly in her lap as she tried to appear only mildly interested in the subject, unconsciously twisting the snug sapphire ring on her finger. She must remain calm, she told herself, and not let Ichigo Kurosaki's name upset her. Her name was going to be coupled with his quite often in these next weeks and she must become accustomed to it.
"How do I measure up to your expectations?" forcing a lightness to her voice that she didn't feel.
"I thought you would be a beautiful, temperamental woman with a sensual allure that no man could resist." his Aqua marine eyes glinted with amusement, while Rukia thought what an accurate description that was of Riruka.
"The Judge, on the other hand, thought you would be a quiet and retiring woman, submitting yourself quite meekly to the pressure of Ichigo's thumb."
"A sacrificial lamb," Rukia supplied softly, turning her gaze out the window and thinking how true it was in the respect that she always seemed to be bowing to her cousin's caprices. Although she certainly would never bow to Ichigo Kurosaki. A tiny smile brought her dimples into play as Rukia thought how ironic it was that she had been determined to have no part of the overpowering Ichigo Kurosaki, and here she was pretending to be his fiancée.
"You're hardly a lamb." Kaien's drawling voice drew her back. "A beautiful Madonna with a touch of the Mona Lisa, a curious mixture of the serene and the sensual. I believe the Judge and I were both right and wrong." The sincerity of his compliment disconcerted Rukia. She was too used to comparing herself with Riruka and seeing a pale shadow of the more colourful and exciting peacock. Most all of the men she had met were usually cast-off admirers of Riruka, or entranced with her cousin the instant they were introduced. It had always hurt to know she was second-best, like now when she was a substitute for Riruka.
"I think you're too generous with your compliments, Mr. Shiba." Her
candid protest came from a realistic appraisal of her own attraction.
"I thought we agreed it was to be Kaien," he teased gently. "There's no need to be modest either, although it's refreshing. That ring on your finger is an affirmation of your beauty. It also solves another riddle."
"What's that?" Rukia seized the opportunity to turn the subject away from any more lavish praise which only embarrassed, her since it was so undeserved.
"You know that Ichigo's parents died when he was in his teens, Between his grandfather and Masaki, they raised him. With his grandfather's death ten years ago, Masaki took custody of the family jewels." Unknowingly Kaien was filling in some of the gaps in Ichigo's background that Rukia didn't know, and Riruka either hadn't known or hadn't thought important to tell her. "When Ichigo flew down one morning a couple of weeks ago to select one of the rings from the family collection, Masaki was surprised that he had chosen the sapphire instead of the more traditional diamond solitaire studded with pearls. Only Masaki, and now perhaps you, would dare question any of Ichigo's decisions, but Masaki did this time. She said he'd remarked that the sapphire and diamond ring would be more suitable for his bride-to-be. As usual, Ichigo was right."
"How do you mean?" Rukia asked blankly, inwardly shrinking from the weight of the stone on her finger. Rukia lowered his gaze from another minute inspection of her face to the gleaming, richly blue stone. "No other jewel could match the lovely blue colour of your eyes. Oh, yes," he mused softly, "I do see how you've been able to ensnare the elusive Ichigo Kurosaki."
Play-acting. An innocent game of pretend. That was what Riruka had called it in the security of their Los Angeles apartment. Carrying it out was not at all like their conversations. Rukia hadn't realized how cheap she would feel until she saw how her cousin's intrigue had wrapped Kaien so completely in their web of deceit.
"How much farther is it?" Her voice was sharper than she intended it to be, but she couldn't stand any more of this talk of her engagement to Ichigo. As she stared out the window at the thinning residential area giving way to pine trees, she wondered how she was going to be able to go through with this deception when she was filled with so much self-loathing only an hour after her arrival in Mobile.
"There's no need to warn me of my place," Kaein chuckled, meeting Rukia's confused glance briefly. "I'm fully cognizant that you're one of Ichigo's possessions. The thought of confronting him will keep me from making any advances that I might consider in other circumstances."
Rukia realized that he thought her quick change of subject was because she thought he was becoming too familiar. "Oh, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, "I didn't mean to sound rude. I'm anxious about meeting Mrs. Kurosaki, I suppose." That was a half truth. She wasn't anxious. She was dreading it, knowing that Kaien's inquisition was nothing compared to what Ichigo 's aunt would probably put her through.
"I wouldn't worry whether Masaki will approve of you or not. She's been wanting Ichigo to marry for years. She'll adore any woman who gets him to the altar." There was a blessed moment of silence as Kaien turned off the main road on to a peaceful tree-lined drive in the countryside. "Ichigo has been very closemouthed about you, but then he is about everything. Tell me, how did you meet?"
"At a party in Hollywood."
"That's a surprise." An eyebrow raised slightly. "Ichigo has always abhorred those gushy affairs. You don't seem the type who would like that artificial atmosphere either."
"I don't," Rukia answered honestly, inhaling deeply before plunging into the business of pretend. "Perhaps that was the reason Ichigo," how his name stuck in her throat! "noticed me. We left at an outrageously early hour when he offered me a ride home. He asked me out to dinner the following night, and there you have it."
"Love at first sight, huh?" A statement not requiring an answer from Rukia.
"Those two stone pillars on your right," Kaein directed her attention through the car window, "mark the entrance to the Judge's home. The flame pink azaleas ahead is where Masaki's lane begins."
"How beautiful!" Rukia murmured, catching sight of the brilliant flowered bushes.
"We've had a mild winter. They're blooming early this year," he commented idly, "which will make the Mardi Gras week just that more colourful."
"Mardi Gras? Are you going to New Orleans?" she asked as he made the turn into the lane.
"Traitorous words," he mocked severely. "Mobile is the American home of Mardi Gras, where it was first celebrated and still is, but without the publicity that New Orleans receives."
"I didn't know that."
"There are quite a few people who don't. The parades and festivities start this week, so you'll be able to see it for yourself."
Covertly Rukia studied Kaien, judging the immaculately dressed man to be no older than his late twenties. Instinct said he would be an entertaining and informative escort to the traditional carnival event. But such thoughts couldn't be allowed, so she shifted her gaze to the numerous magnolias and oak trees scattered over the well kept lawn. The narrow drive ended in a cul-de-sac in front of a scaled-down version of a brick mansion. Red masonry was contrasted by four white columns rising in front of the main entrance to support an upper balcony with white shutters flanking the windows on both storeys. Flowers were everywhere with tropical profusion. Azaleas, roses, and more that Rukia didn't recognize.
From the corner of the house, a young girl came gliding gracefully towards the Volkswagen and stopped in front of the steps, a basket of freshly cut flowers on her arm. There was a light golden tan to her skin and her hair was an attractive shade of orange, so similar to Ichigo's. No mention had been made of a female Rukia's age, and she wondered who this youthfully slender girl was.
"Here comes Masaki," Colin smiled, getting out of the car and walking around to open the passenger door.
Rukia glanced towards the still closed door of the house looking for the elderly woman who was to be her hostess. There was no sign of anyone but the approaching girl.
"I've been waiting so long," the girl's melodic voice brought Rukia's wandering gaze back to her. "I was beginning to decide I should have gone to the airport with you,Kaien, to make sure you didn't spirit her away."
Only at closer quarters was Rukia able to see the betraying lines of age marring the slender throat and crinkling the corners of sparkling light hazel eyes,A shade lighter and more comforting than her nephew's cold amber gaze. The hair wasn't totally orange; it hade grey hairs, but styled youthfully with gently curling waves that enhanced the patrician features. All of Riruka's images of a doddering, senile old woman were blown away with the wide welcoming smile Kurosaki Masaki turned on Rukia after Kaien had brushed his lips against the smooth, proffered cheek. A whimsical smile touched Rukia's mouth as she remembered her concern over spending two weeks with an older woman and having staid conversations about Ichigo Kurosaki. Meeting her hostess showed her there was nothing staid and dull about Masaki Kurosaki. She exhibited boundless energy and a totally outgoing nature.
"If she'd been anyone else other than Ichigo's fiancée, I would have," Kaein was saying. "But as she is, I brought her safely to you."
A beautifully manicured hand reached out for Rukia's. "I'm so happy you could come, Riruka," Masaki declared with obvious pleasure and sincerity "You're just as I hoped you would be."
"It was very kind of you to ask me to come, ," Rukia replied, accepting the warm greeting and knowing she was going to like this woman more than was good.
"Kindness had nothing to do with it," the woman laughed. "The invitation was born from my insatiable curiosity and the desire to meet the girl who's going to marry my only nephew. And I insist that you call me Masaki." After releasing Rukia's hand, the older woman put her arm around Rukia's slim shoulders and directed her towards the house, ordering airily over her shoulder for Kaein to bring in the luggage. "We must have a drink to celebrate your arrival. You will stay to join us, won't you, Kaien?"
"You know I would never deny myself the company of two beautiful women,Masaki," he chided playfully, following them up the steps with the scarlet suitcases tucked effortlessly under his arms and dangling from his hands.
"How glad I am that Ichigo had to go on that South American trip," said Masaki, squeezing Rukia's shoulders briefly before removing her arm and opening the large front door with its brass knocker. "This is a heaven-sent opportunity for us to get to know one another, Riruka."
Considering the falseness of her masquerade, Rukia thought Masaki was giving credit in the wrong direction. The way her conscience was pricking her, it was more hell-sent.
"Rukia," she corrected quickly, explaining, "My friends call me Rukia instead of Riruka."
Masaki nodded sagely. "Rukia, of course. Riruka is much too harshsounding for someone as lovely as you." They had stopped in the cool hallway that served as an entrance hall, and the silver gilt head turned to Kaien. "Take Rukia's suitcases upstairs to the white bedroom."
"You're special," Kaien slanted Rukia a knowing look. "That room is reserved for Very Important People."
"She's more than that," Masaki corrected, bestowing a warm, loving look on Rukia's tensely poised face. "Now she's family. Our best is never too good for those who belong to us."
Rukia would have preferred that Masaki had disliked her on sight or mercilessly examined her. Anything rather than this wholehearted endorsement as the future wife of her nephew.
"You're embarrassing the girl,Masaki," said Kaien, drawing the woman's attention to the pink dots on Rukia's cheeks.
"No, no, really," Rukia protested at the slightly hurt expression on the older woman's face. "I'm not embarrassed. I… It's… it's only that you don't know me yet. And what if you don't like me when you do?" she asked with a nervous laugh.
"If Ichigo has chosen you to marry," Masaki said reassuringly, "then that's all the endorsement I need."
"Ah, Ichigo," Colin mocked. "The black paragon himself. Although I must admit that I've always admired his taste in the fairer sex and his uncanny ability to find a quantity of quality."
"Those days are over. Now Ichigo has Rukia and he won't need all those other women," Masaki sighed before glancing sideways at Kaien's form. "And I thought I told you to take the luggage upstairs." With a mockingly deferential bow, Kaien complied with her request.
"Excuse me, Rukia," the woman turned back to her, "while I get rid of these flowers and prepare us a drink. Would you like to freshen up or anything first?"
"No, it isn't necessary." Rukia didn't want an opportunity to relax, needing the knife-edged tension to force her to carry through the charade.
"Why don't you wait in the living room, then?" Masaki suggested, ushering Rukia into a brilliant gold and green room. "Kaien will be down in a minute and it shouldn't take me much longer than that."
Cream white walls counterbalanced the rich gold carpeting and the vivid green satin curtains and pale sheer insets. The oak furniture repeated the emerald green with complementing live foliage of lacy ferns and climbing philodendrons scattered throughout the room in colourful planters of green and gold. The ornately scrolled high ceilings were dominated by a classically simple crystal chandelier. It was a bold, vivid room, much like its owner, airy and elegant, bursting with vitality.
The prospect of remaining in this tastefully furnished home under the guise of Riruka Kuchiki, exposed every day to the trusting and loving nature of Masaki Kurosaki seemed to grow more daunting and distasteful every minute she thought about it. Misery forced a long weary sigh to come from the depths of her soul. Why,Rukia wondered to herself, had she been so gullible and allowed herself to be talked into such a situation? The knowledge that she was enabling Riruka to fulfil her childhood dream as an actress while maintaining her engagement to Ichigo and that she was protecting her dear Uncle Rei from a possible suit brought her little comfort now that she was here in Mobile staying under Masaki Kurosaki's roof.
"Do you feel a bit more at ease?" Kaien spoke from the doorway,"Now that you've passed inspection?"
"Actually," Rukia walked to a green sofa and sat down, unwilling for a moment to meet his gentle, inquiring gaze until she could slip back into the role of Ichigo's fiancée, "I'm still a bit overwhelmed."
"Why?" he asked casually, taking a seat in a nearby chair.
"I didn't know what to expect," she smiled weakly. "Ichigo didn't tell me much about Mrs. Kurosaki… Masaki. I hardly expected her to be so young."
"Don't tell Masaki you expected her to be in her dotage," Kaein laughed. "I think she's found the fountain of youth."
"Age is a taboo subject in my house." Masaki appeared in the doorway with a tray of drinks in her hands. A wide smile removed any censure her words might have implied. "I refuse to grow old gracefully. Age is purely relative. It grates my nerves when people say "how old are you?" The French put it much more tactfully when they ask "How many years have you?" It stresses experience instead of deterioration."
"No one could accuse you of the latter,Masaki," Kaien stated.
"It's one of my eccentricities," she replied, directing a smile at Rukia.
"You'll find I have many."
"I don't quite believe that," Rukia smiled, accepting the iced fruit drink.
"I'm disgustingly old-fashioned," Masaki declared. "I still won't fly in a plane regardless of how safe they're supposed to be. I'm a follower of that old saying that if a man was supposed to fly, he would have been given wings. I hate cars and ride in them only when there's no other method of transportation. No, the only two means of travel that I enjoy are horseback riding and walking."
Which was why,Rukia realized, Masaki wouldn't be attending Ichigo and Riruka's wedding.
"Do you ride, Rukia?" Masaki inquired.
"I have ridden," she admitted, since it had been one of the activities at the exclusive girls' school she and Riruka had attended. "But I'm by no means an expert."
"As well as a swimming pool, Masaki has a small stable behind the house," Kaien explained. "She rides every day."
"The Judge, Kaien's father, joins me quite often, and Kaien is always welcome, too." A knowing glance was darted towards the dark-haired man studying Rukia with open admiration. "The rare times that Ichigo is here, he's in the saddle almost constantly."
A few questions from Rukia changed the subject from Ichigo to the horses Masaki owned and into a discussion centred on horses in general. A half hour later Kaien rose to leave against a mild protest from Masaki that it was still early.
"I know the Judge is anxiously awaiting my verdict on your guest," Kaien smiled, extending his hand in good-bye to each in turn, holding Rukia's a little longer.
"The two of you must come over for dinner tomorrow night," Masaki invited.
"I accept your invitation," he nodded, sending a glittering glance towards Rukia. "I'll look forward to seeing you tomorrow."
"Yes," Rukia agreed. "And thank you for meeting me at the airport."
"That was strictly a pleasure." The flecks in his aqua-marine eyes radiated a serene light over her face.
"He's a marvellous young man," Masaki declared after kaien had left. "So charming and kind, like the Judge. He's attracted to you, too," darting a teasing glance at the veiled expression in the dark blue eyes.
In other circumstances Rukia knew she would be attracted to Kaien as well, but the borrowed ring on her finger was the dictator of her life for the present.
She couldn't complicate the situation by becoming too fond of Kaien Shiba.
Unconsciously she touched the cold, hard stone of her ring, drawing Masaki's attention to it.
"As much as I adore Kaien," Masaki continued, a reassuring hand touching Rukia's arm, "I'm glad you met Ichigo first."
"So am I." A tremulous smile didn't add much credence to her lie.
"You're looking tired," the older woman smiled sympathetically. "Let me show you to your room. You'll want to unpack and shower before dinner. You should have time to rest a bit first. I'm afraid I was so excited at finally meeting you that I quite forgot how tiring travelling is."
Rukia freely admitted that the tenseness and strain was in her face, but not from travelling, from maintaining this pretence of being Ichigo's fiancée.
Meekly she followed the Orange-haired woman out of the living room down the wide hallway to the curved staircase leading to the second floor. Gold flocked paper decorated the walls of both hallways with vases of fresh flowers adding further brightness to the sunshine interior.
"I do hope you'll like your room," Masaki said, opening a highly varnished oak door to the right of the landing.
The white room—she had referred to it when Masaki had directed Kaien to bring her suitcases there. Thick white carpet covered the floor with the walls also in white, but a richly quilted bedspread of gold satin was on the oak bed with matching draperies at the windows. Brass lamps flanked the bed with snow-white shades on top. It was elegant without being ostentatious.
"It's beautiful!" Rukia breathed in admiration, walking slowly towards theoak dressing-table where fresh yellow roses turned their newly budding petals towards her.
Then the gilt-framed picture on the bureau came into view, washing thecolour from her face as her knees threatened to buckle. Cold Hazel eyes stared out from an aloofly aristocratic male face. Rukia experienced the same unnerving feeling she had felt the first time she saw Ichigo Kurosaki. It was as if he was in the room, the jeering set of his mouth condemning her a fraud, a liar. Her heart stopped beating and that terrible fear swept over her again
that he would discover this foolish masquerade and send the world crashing down around her.
"I thought you might like to have Ichigo's picture in your room." Masaki's voice came softly from behind Rukia's left shoulder. "It's the only one I have, or I'd give it to you."
"It's a remarkable likeness," Rukia said weakly, unable to break her gaze away from the totally masculine face.
"Do you think so?" the older woman queried, a mild disagreement in her voice. "He looks so hard and cynical in that photograph, but then," she shrugged ruefully, "in many ways he has become that. Money, power and prestige make a potent combination. When you blend those with a forceful personality like Ichigo's it becomes easy to understand how a person can become cynical towards life. I know I'm not telling you something you don't already know, but you'd be surprised at how many people like you for what you possess instead of what kind of person you are. My most profound wish has been that Ichigo would find someone who loved him for himself and not for his money and power. I do believe, my dear, that he has found that woman in you."
"Masaki—" Rukia began with a choking knot of pain in her throat. tears brought an added brilliance to the blue of her eyes surrounded by sooty black lashes.
She couldn't go on with the masquerade. It had to end here and now, before the damage was too great to be mended for Riruka. But her voice couldn't get through the lump in her throat.
The youthfully attractive, Orange-haired woman mistook the acid tears burning Rukia's eyes for tears of gratitude at being accepted as a member of the family.
"You don't have to say anything. I understand." Masaki hugged Rukia's unresisting shoulders and hurried from the room, her own light Hazel eyes filling with happy tears.
The moment of truth was gone, and Rukia was more committed than before to carry out the charade to its inevitable bitter end.
xxxxx
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