Wife for a Week Page 2

  He frowned, surprised to discover he couldn’t bring a clear picture of her into his mind. He wasn’t sure if her eyes were blue or brown, although he did recall that her hair was a nondescript brown and usually untidy.

  Still, her features remained indistinct and the only other thing he could bring to mind about her was the fact that she always wore black ugly sensible shoes.

  At least he wouldn’t have to worry about somehow getting carried away in the role playing. His mousy secretary wasn’t his type at all and that’s what made her so perfect for the part.

  With a sigh he got up and crossed the living room. He was not looking forward to the coming week. Seven days in a little cow town learning how to develop deeper intimacy wasn’t his idea of a vacation.

  Intimacy. What every woman longed for and what every man abhorred. Hank didn’t want some woman inside his head, knowing his thoughts, sharing his dreams.

  He’d seen what love and intimacy had done to his father. Hank’s mother had died when Hank had been five, and for years Hank had watched his father build a dry-cleaning empire through long hours and hard work.

  Then, a year ago Harris Riverton had remarried and had been transformed from a sharp businessman to a doddering old fool who loved nothing more than puttering in the garden with his new bride.

  No way Hank ever wanted to lose his edge, share his energy, compromise his needs for any woman.

  Speaking of women...he looked at his watch and stood. He was supposed to pick up Sheila in fifteen minutes for their customary Sunday night dinner together.

  An hour later he and Sheila sat at a table in Sam’s Steakhouse, Hank’s favorite restaurant. The decor was uninspiring, the ambience unmemorable, but the steaks were huge and cooked to perfection.

  As Hank dug into his rare T-bone, Sheila picked at a salad, her dainty features pulled into a frown of petulance. She’d been angry with him ever since he’d told her he’d be gone for the next week on business. She pouted until he’d almost finished his steak.

  “Are you sure you can’t get back to town in time for the fund-raiser on Friday night?” She finally broke the silence that had lingered between them.

  “Sorry, honey. It’s impossible. There’s no way I can be back in town before next Sunday.”

  “But you’re the boss. Can’t you just make somebody else do whatever business it is that has to be done? The cocktail party is so important. Everyone who is anyone will be there.” Sheila’s normally buttery-smooth voice became a plaintive whine. “I was so looking forward to it. I bought a gorgeous new dress and I even managed to get a hair appointment with Pierre.”

  “You can still go to the party without me,” Hank said, wondering why he’d never noticed before that Sheila’s blue eyes had the cold, hard glare of a woman who liked to get her own way.

  “Mustang is only a couple of hours away. You could drive in for the party, then drive back for business early on Saturday morning,” she pressed, the hardness in her eyes deepening.

  Hank set his fork down and shoved his plate aside. “Sheila, I’m sorry, I said I can’t make it and I mean it There will always be another fund-raiser, another cocktail party.”

  Sheila took a sip of her wine, her red lipstick staining the rim of the glass. She set the glass down then reached across the table for Hank’s hand. “What is little Sheila going to do for a whole week without her lover-bear?”

  Hank hated it when she talked baby talk and he suddenly realized there was little about Sheila he really liked.

  Granted, the woman had a dynamite face and figure, but she was also spoiled and demanding. They had very little in common with each other and he had a feeling Sheila liked him more for his image and the challenge he presented than anything else.

  It was time to call an end to the three-week dating frenzy he’d shared with the attractive woman. As the thought crossed his mind, relief flowed through him, confirming that it was definitely time to end it.

  He wiped his mouth with his napkin, struggling to find the right words without hurting her feelings or her dignity. “Sheila, you’re a nice, beautiful woman and I’ve really enjoyed the time we’ve spent together,” he began.

  “You’re kissing me off, aren’t you?” Gone was the buttery tone as well as the baby talk. Instead her voice radiated anger. “I can’t believe this. All my friends warned me about you, Hank Riverton. They told me not to date you. They said that you are a professional heartbreaker.”

  “Sheila...” Hank winced, but the woman continued.

  “You just wait, Hank.” She pushed back from the table and stood, looking more beautiful than ever with her ample chest heaving and her blue eyes flashing.

  “One of these days you’re going to give your heart to some woman. You’re going to love her more than anything on earth, and I hope she takes your heart and smashes it to little pieces.” With these words she whirled around and stomped away from the table.

  Hank fought down a surge of regret as he watched the sexy sway of her backside in retreat. He imagined Sheila was probably a good lover, but he hadn’t experienced her expertise in that particular area.

  Although she had given him all the right signals nearly every night that they’d gone out, he hadn’t responded. He knew Sheila would see lovemaking as a prelude to a wedding band, and that’s the last thing Hank wanted. Besides, it was difficult to picture making love to a woman who baby-talked.

  He was also sorry if he’d hurt her, although he knew Sheila would be fine with or without him. She was one of those women who would always have a man at her side. Like him, she was a survivor in the game of relationships.

  He shoved any lingering regrets aside and waved to the waiter for his check. “Goodbye Sheila,” he murmured to himself, somehow relieved that there would be no more dates with her.

  Besides, it seemed fitting that he’d broken up with Sheila tonight. After all, first thing in the morning he would be a “married man.”

  As he waited for the waiter to return with his check, he thought of his secretary, the woman to play his wife. Angela was exactly the kind of woman Brody would approve of. Rather plain and quiet, dutiful and efficient, she had all the qualities of an old-fashioned, traditional wife. And best of all, she was definitely no threat to Hank’s bachelorhood.

  He smiled as he thought of Sheila’s parting words. She hoped some woman broke his heart. He laughed aloud at the very thought. The day he allowed a woman access to his heart was the day he’d kiss Brody Robinson’s ugly mug. Not in this lifetime, he promised himself.

  Chapter Two

  “Brian, stop!” Angela tried to muster a stern look, but instead dissolved into laughter as her brother held her hairbrush over his head. “Come on, I need to brush my hair before Mr. Riverton arrives.”

  Brian danced around her, holding out the brush, then snatching it away before she could grab it. He retreated behind the kitchen table, a grin on his thin face.

  At nineteen, Brian was tall and gangly, still more boy than man with a wicked sense of humor that often made Angela half-crazy. “Why should I give it to you? You’re just going to pull your hair back in one of those ugly barrettes,” he exclaimed.

  “My barrettes aren’t ugly and my boss is going to be here any minute!” Angela raced around the table, playfully smacked her brother in the chest, then giggled once again as he wrapped her in a bear hug.

  How she loved her baby brother, she thought as she struggled to get free of his embrace. Although Brian wasn’t a baby any longer, he still held her heart.

  Their father had walked out on them when their mother was pregnant with Brian and Angela had been nine. Soon after his abandonment and Brian’s birth, their mother had developed a heart condition and it had been Angela who had done most of the raising of her baby brother. The result was a loving, close bond between the two siblings.

  The doorbell rang and Angela froze, her heart thudded to a near halt in her chest. As she heard her mother answer the door, she struggled to get free f
rom her bratty brother’s hold. “If you don’t let me go this minute, I’ll...I’ll...”

  Brian laughed. “You’ll what? I’m far too big for you to spank.” He released her as Hank Riverton stepped into the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” Hank said, a dark eyebrow arched in surprise.

  The heat of a blush swept over Angela as she snatched the brush from Brian’s hand and swept her errant hair away from her face. “Good morning,” she replied. “Uh...I’ll be ready to go in just a moment. Brian, why don’t you pour Mr. Riverton a cup of coffee.”

  “I’ll take care of Mr. Riverton, you go ahead and finish getting ready,” Janette Samuels said as she entered the kitchen.

  Angela flashed a smile of gratitude to her mother, then raced for her bedroom, where her suitcase was packed and waiting.

  She quickly pulled her hair back and clasped it at the nape of her neck with a wide barrette. She didn’t want to take too long. She didn’t want her mother grilling Mr. Riverton about their “business trip.”

  She glanced at her reflection in her dresser mirror. Hank had told her casual dress and she’d taken him at his word. She wore jeans and a navy-and-white pullover blouse. Instead of her usual working shoes, white tennis shoes adorned her feet. After one last nervous glance in the mirror, she grabbed her suitcase and left her bedroom.

  Her boss sat at the kitchen table, flanked by her mother and her brother. Brian was telling Hank about the classes he was taking at the local community college.

  As Brian talked, Angela took a moment to study the man who would be her pretend husband for the next seven days. Clad in tight jeans and a short-sleeved polo shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders and biceps, he looked far too masculine, far too virile for comfort.

  “Sounds like a tough schedule,” Hank commented when Brian finished talking.

  Angela walked from the doorway to stand behind her brother. She placed her hands on his shoulders. “Brian can handle it. He was valedictorian of his high school and had scholarship offers from colleges all around the country.” Her voice rang with her pride.

  Janette patted her son’s hand. “And next year he’ll be at one of those colleges instead of at the community college here in town.”

  “We’ll see, Mom,” Brian replied noncommittedly.

  Hank stood and looked at Angela expectantly. “We’ve got quite a drive ahead of us. We’d better get on the road.”

  “Yes, of course.” Angela picked up her suitcase and started toward the front door.

  “Here, let me.” He took the suitcase from her, then turned to her mother. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Mrs. Samuels. I’ll take good care of your daughter and deliver her home safe and sound next Sunday.”

  Angela’s mother smiled. “That’s fine. I hope your business goes well.”

  “Bye, sis,” Brian said.

  “Bye, Brian. Don’t you skip any classes while I’m gone,” Angela exclaimed.

  She breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped out of the house and into the cool early morning air. Hank stowed her suitcase in the trunk as she got into the passenger seat of the bright red, two-seater sports car.

  “Sorry I wasn’t ready when you arrived. I didn’t mean for you to have to cool your heels with my mom and brother,” she said nervously as he slid in behind the wheel.

  “I didn’t mind,” he said. He started the car with a roar, then turned and looked at her. “In fact, I found it rather interesting. Over the weekend as I read the dossier you prepared, I realized I knew absolutely nothing about you.” He pulled away from the curb.

  “There isn’t much to know,” she said.

  “On the contrary. I had no idea you had any family. You’re always available to work long hours and on the weekends. If I remember correctly you supervised a party at my place nearly all night last Christmas Eve.”

  Angela shrugged. “It’s not like I have a husband or children. Both Mom and Brian know how important my job is to me.” She battled with herself, wondering if this was the moment to tell him how unhappy she’d been with what her job had become. She decided now wasn’t the time. Perhaps on the drive home after the week was over.

  For a few minutes they rode in silence, fighting the morning rush-hour traffic as they headed out of town. He was a skillful driver, weaving in and out of other cars in an attempt to minimize their travel time.

  She cast him a surreptitious glance, realizing perhaps the crush she’d once had on him wasn’t completely gone. Although she knew he was a playboy, seemingly unable to sustain any long-term relationships, she couldn’t help but be affected by his nearness. And it irritated her.

  Something about him reminded her of her own femininity, the sexuality that had yet to be awakened. Twenty-eight-years old and never been kissed.

  Oh, sure there had been a little bit of dating and kissing in high school, but the reality of her mother’s illness and Brian’s needs as a growing boy had made relationships impossible for Angela.

  She was sweet twenty-eight and had never felt the thrill, the utter turn-on of a kiss from an adult, experienced male. And something about Hank Riverton reminded her of her inadequacies and inexperience.

  “So, why is your brother going to a community college if he had so many other offers?” he asked as he hit the highway that would take them to Mustang.

  Angela pulled herself from her reverie, grateful for any conversation that would still her disturbing thoughts. “At the time the offers came in, my mother was going through a rough time. She has a heart condition and we weren’t sure she was going to make it through the crisis. Brian decided he’d rather stay close to home.”

  “That’s commendable. What about your father? What does he do?”

  “Who knows?” Angela fought down the anger and hurt, thoughts of her father always brought “He walked out on us when Mom was pregnant with Brian. He decided not to leave a forwarding address.”

  “Ouch,” Hank winced. “Well, that’s one thing we have in common. We both came from singleparent homes. My mother died when I was five.”

  “Yes, I know,” Angela replied. He looked at her in surprise and she continued. “Before I interviewed for you, I did some homework. I read every newspaper and magazine article I could get my hands on about you.” She didn’t mention that it was at this time she’d developed her crush on him.

  He cast her a rueful smile. “I certainly hope you don’t believe everything you’ve read. Writers tend to exaggerate, especially when it comes to making money and making love.”

  Angela blushed, but held his gaze. “I’ve worked for you long enough to know that you seem to do both very well.”

  He laughed. “Depends on who you ask. According to my accountant, I spend nearly as much as I make, and I have a feeling if you’d ask Sheila what she thought about me today, she wouldn’t have much glowing praise.”

  “Trouble in paradise?” she asked.

  “Paradise lost,” he replied. “I broke it off with her last night.”

  “Should I call the florist?” she asked teasingly.

  “Nah, we’ll skip the normal routine. Besides, it just wouldn’t seem right, sending Sheila flowers when I’m married to you.” He grinned and Angela felt the magnetism of his smile zing throughout her body. “And speaking of us being married, we need to discuss some of the details of our wedding.”

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Like were we married in a traditional ceremony or in a park or at a justice of the peace? Did we have a long courtship or a whirlwind romance?”

  “Definitely a whirlwind romance,” she replied after a moment of thought. “But we married in a traditional ceremony.” She closed her eyes for a moment, instantly able to visualize the wedding she’d always dreamed of. “We had an evening ceremony, with lots of candles lit and arrangements of baby’s breath and orange blossoms. I wore a long white gown with tiny pearl seed buttons and a train of lace. You wore a black tuxedo with a pale pink cummerbund and bow tie.”

&nbs
p; “Sounds like you’ve given this a lot of thought.”

  His voice jerked her from the pleasant image, the result as startling and frustrating as awakening in the middle of a pleasant dream. “Not really,” she said, not wanting him to know how often she entertained such ridiculous fantasies. “I suppose everyone at one time or another thinks about what they would want their wedding to be like.”

  “I can honestly say that wedding thoughts have never crossed my mind.”

  Angela smiled dryly. “And I can honestly say that doesn’t surprise me. You have the heart of a perpetual bachelor.” She hesitated a moment, eyeing him curiously. “I’m not sure you can pull off the role of a married man for a whole week.”

  One of his dark brows rose and his deep blue eyes sparked with challenge. “Don’t underestimate me, Angela. You’ve worked with me long enough to know that I’m ruthless when it comes to getting what I want and it’s vitally important that Brody believes I’m happily married to you. Trust me...I’ll perform my part. Are you certain you can do yours?”

  She smiled at him with a show of confidence. “I’ve worked for you long enough that you should know I’m nothing if not highly efficient. If you require me to act as your wife, then that’s exactly what I will do.”

  Hank laughed, the deep, robust sound reverberating pleasantly in the pit of Angela’s stomach. “I have a feeling this might just prove to be a very interesting week.”

  His laughter combined with the challenge in his eyes, and created a ball of heat in the pit of Angela’s stomach. She realized at that moment she’d made a huge mistake in agreeing to the whole madcap scheme.

  For the next hour they fabricated their life together, deciding they’d honeymooned in the Caribbean, had vacationed in New York City, and on most Friday nights played cards with several other young couples. When they felt as if all bases had been covered, they fell into an easy silence.