Kitabı oku: «Wife For Hire»

One

River Willow Plantation

Aiken, South Carolina

She had a rubber chicken stuck in the grillwork of her car.

The webbed feet flopped with every bump, the chicken looking as if it was being strangled and fried for supper, with all the smoke coming from the exhaust.

Nash Rayburn’s lips twitched with amusement. “At least she has a sense of humor,” he muttered to himself, then glanced down at his daughters. They were grinning widely. A good sign, he thought, nudging his hat back and bracing his shoulder on the porch post. He hooked his thumbs in his belt loops.

This was his wife for hire?

The dust-covered car rattled to a stop about twenty yards away and choked for a full twenty seconds after she shut the engine off and climbed out. Nash felt an instant pull in his gut the moment shapely bare legs first appeared and touched the ground.

Strike one. She was pretty. No, downright adorable, reminding him of a fairy in a story his mama told him when he was a kid. Her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, she had gleaming short dark-red hair and a body that was graceful and voluptuous. That pull tightened in places he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Strike two.

He’d told the agency he didn’t want anyone who’d distract the ranch hands. Now a petite full-breasted slim-hipped woman was coming straight toward him. And her Cadillac walk was so sexy he had the urge to cover his daughters’ eyes. Damn. A scoop-neck navy blue T-shirt, a short denim skirt and a pair of high heeled sandals had never looked that good on his late wife.

“Oh, goody, she’s not old,” Kim said as if it was a crime to be over ten. “She can play games with us.”

Nash glanced down at his twin girls. “Mrs. Winslow plays games.”

The two made faces at him. “Board games and stuff. She just watches us mostly,” Kate said, looking at the woman. “She looks nice, huh, Daddy?”

Breathtaking, he thought, and hoped his voice didn’t show it. “Yes, peanut, very nice.”

Ten yards away, the woman’s steps slowed to a stop, and Nash felt suddenly uneasy, a sense of familiarity hitting him. His gaze swept over her, searching for a connection.

“Nash?”

His blood froze and he straightened. He’d know that voice anywhere. Hayley Albright. His Hayley. “What are you doing here?”

She cocked one hip, her fingers tightening on the strap of a beat-up leather handbag slung on her shoulder. “If this is Katherine’s idea of a joke, I don’t like it.”

“Me, neither.” Nash’s insides twisted, his heart pressing against his ribs. Seven years ago he’d loved this woman. And seven years ago he’d betrayed that love and married another. He could never tell her why. Never. Yet one look at her and every cell in his body reacted, screaming for her. His blood grew hot and heavy in his veins as he stepped off the porch, walking toward her. It had always been like that, so good it was almost painful to be near her. She was the kind of woman who made heads turn as much for her confidence as for her beauty. The kind who made you smile just because she smiled.

The kind he’d wanted to marry.

Hayley felt memories of her past flow back as he neared, meshing with the old pain. She tried to push them aside, tried to gather her composure, but he was looking at her the way he had years ago. As if he wanted to devour her whole. It made her knees weak. She wanted to turn back to her car and drive away to avoid opening this part of her past again. It hurt too much. When he approached and stopped directly in front of her, the urge to throw herself into his arms made her eyes sting. It made her see that even if she told herself she was over him, she wasn’t. Not by a long shot. Out of sight didn’t mean out of mind—or heart. And if she stayed, she’d be in trouble.

Then he plucked off her sunglasses.

She snatched them back and met his gaze head on, searching for the man she once loved.

“You’re working for Katherine’s company?”

“A girl’s got to make a living.”

His lips flattened to a thin line. “What about your dream to be a doctor?”

She hitched up her handbag and said, “Still there. I just finished my internship. After a two-week break, I’ll go back to St. Anthony’s Hospital to begin my residency.”

“That’s great.” His smile was slight, bitter, and Hayley felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. Her need to be a doctor and his need to have her abandon her goal in order to be his wife had torn holes in their love and sent him into the arms of another woman.

“Somehow I don’t think that’s what you really mean,” she said.

His gaze narrowed. “I never wanted you to fail, Hayley.”

“No, just dump my dreams for yours.”

His features yanked taut. This conversation was just too difficult for public discussion, for what he was feeling, what he wanted to say to her. What he wanted to do with her. He caught the scent of jasmine, feeling it sing through his veins and make him ache to hold her. “It is good to see you.”

The low tone of his voice evoked heat and the sensation of being safely wrapped in warmth. “Good to be seen,” she managed and searched his face for any changes. They were minor, for he’d aged beautifully, the lines in his face giving it more character, a harder look than she remembered. At thirty-five he was as handsome as he was when she’d first seen him at a college mixer in her senior year. He’d arrived with his friend Katherine Davenport, Hayley’s sorority sister, mentor and owner of Wife Incorporated, just as a favor, and he’d left with Hayley. He was the older man, rich and powerful, who’d swept her off her feet and into his strong capable arms. She sighed, pushing the memory down where it belonged. She’d been a fool, falling for him hook, line and sinker, and she wasn’t about to let it happen again.

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Hayley asked the one question she didn’t want to say. “So, where’s Michelle?”

His features hardened. “She’d dead, Hayley. Killed in a car accident four years ago.”

“I’m sorry.” She was. Hayley might have a grudge against Michelle and Nash, but she certainly didn’t wish his wife dead.

“You know her, Daddy?” a voice asked.

Hayley stepped away and looked at the girls standing on the porch. While her assignment sheet offered only a street address, not a name—which she’d rail at Kat later for omitting—the job was detailed and she’d expected children. She smiled and waved. “Oh, Nash,” she said softly, in a tone full of surprise. “They look just like you.”

He didn’t take his eyes off her, enjoying her unrestrained smile. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

She glanced. “Good,” she said honestly as the twins trotted down the wide Federal steps and flanked their father.

“These two beauties,” he said, ruffling the top of one dark head, “are Kim and Kate.”

“I’m Hayley,” she said, and shook their little hands. “And yes, your daddy and I are old friends.” She gave them a conspiratorial wink that made the five-year-olds giggle.

Nash felt the tension leave her body as if he owned her skin, and he was glad that any animosity she had for him didn’t spill over to his girls. How were they going to work this out? How long could he stand having her in his house, living with him, seeing her every day and knowing she hated him? It was a humiliation he’d continue to bear in silence. Keeping the truth from her would keep any feelings from being resurrected, he decided. And asking her to leave would be his best bet.

She swung her gaze to his, tipped her head to the side as if studying a painting. Her lips curved into a soft smile that caught him in the gut and threatened the seams of his anger.

Hayley sensed it and frowned. What did he have to be so mad about? She was the one who was jilted, while he’d had everything he wanted. A beautiful wife with culture, wealth and the same refinement he possessed. A perfect complement to the rich powerful landowner he’d become. “I can see you’re not happy about this,” she said, “so how about I call Kat and have another wife for hire here by morning?”

His eyes flared. The challenge was there. Nash had to admire her for it. Even when he wanted her gone. Just seeing her made his mistakes more pronounced. They felt like a knife in his side, and every time their eyes met, it twisted.

“Did you like our daddy?” one of the twins interjected.

Their curiosity was open and charming, yet Hayley could feel their father tense, feel his eyes on her as she looked down at the girls. “I thought he was the handsomest man on earth.”

The twins giggled again, huddling closer. Nash glanced down and their smiles fell a little. He supposed he deserved their retreat with the way he’d been barking at them all week; but Mrs. Winslow was off sick, and he had hundreds of horses, cattle, pigs, chickens and two brunette mischief makers roaming where they weren’t supposed to. Plus he’d had all his other duties to attend to. Bless their hearts, he loved his babies, but they were a full-time job. He eyed Hayley, wondering if she could keep up with his pair of tornadoes.

“I can handle the situation,” Nash said. “Can you?”

The challenge was there, she thought. He should know better than to dare her. “No sweat.”

“Fine,” he said, then turned and walked toward the house.

“Ooh, attitude already.”

He paused and looked back at her, arching a dark brow. She smiled brightly, motioning for him to lead the way. The twins were already stuck to her side and sharing secrets. Great. Outnumbered already, he thought sourly, pushing open the front door. He stepped into the coolness of the house, the girls skipping past him into the den and clicking on the television.

He tossed his hat onto the side table and ran his fingers through his dark hair. “Turn it down a notch, will you, girls?” They did as he asked without a look back.

Nash stared down at Hayley, watching her gaze move over the foyer, the large open living room beyond, the furnishings, then to the left to the hall leading to the bedrooms and second floor. To the right lay a combination kitchen, dining area and den, or what real-estate agents called a Carolina room, and he searched her expression for a reaction, then wondered why he bothered.

She brought her gaze back to his. “Nice digs, Nash.”

He eyed her. “Thanks.”

“So, what’s first?”

He inclined his head toward the kitchen. “What did the agency tell you?” he said as he walked.

“That you needed a temporary wife and all-around kid wrangler for two little girls.”

He stilled and snapped a black look back over his shoulder. “I don’t need a wife.”

Hayley blinked, frowning. “I was speaking figuratively, Nash.”

His gaze swept over her thoroughly, and she stared back, dropping her hand to her hip and waiting for him to continue. This ought to be good, she thought.

“The plantation needs a cook and housekeeper, and my daughters need supervision. Household chores are Mrs. Winslow’s and now they’re yours. The girls have chores, too. The list is on the fridge.” He faced her. “This is temporary, and if I could manage without help, I would. Understand?”

“Quite well, as a matter of fact.” There was no room in his life for her other than as the domestic help, and he’d just made it crystal clear.

“And the cooking is for seven ranch hands, too.” She shrugged. “Two, five, ten, it doesn’t matter. As long as there’s food to prepare.”

He eyed her skeptically. “I don’t recall you being much of a cook.”

“A lot has changed in seven years, Nash.”

Her mysterious smile set him on edge, and the question about where she’d been, what she’d been doing besides graduate study, nagged at him. But he was determined to keep this relationship strictly business. Even if she was still sexy enough to make his jeans feel crowded.

“I guess we’ll get to see that, won’t we?” His words snapped off with the bite of lash.

She frowned. This wasn’t the Nash she remembered. This man was hard on the inside, apparently, as well as the outside. He never once smiled and he was the epitome of tall, dark and brooding. She half expected him to whip out a sword, draw a line in the carpet and dare her to cross it. His stare was intense, deep blue—and having far too powerful an effect on her.

“No, taste it.” Her brow knit. “If you doubt me, then why did you agree to have me stay?”

“I’m short on time and you’re here.”

“Gee. Thanks for throwing a bone my way.”

Nash sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again. How was he going to last two weeks when he all he wanted to do was kiss her senseless? “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Look, Nash. We have a past and it’s over and dead. You have no real reason to be upset with me…” She let the sentence hang, implying that she alone had reason. “If I’m going to work for you, don’t you think you could cut me some slack?”

His gaze darkened, raked her with the same heat as when she first saw him. She ought to be immune to a look like that. She wasn’t. It didn’t help that it was hidden in anger, or that she had to crane her neck to look up at him, making her feel like a shrimp in an ocean of sharks. Or that he filled out that black T-shirt rather well after all these years. And for a split second she remembered what he looked like without a stitch.

Uh-oh, this was not in her plan, she thought, trying to focus as he described duties and meal preferences. He moved through the large kitchen to the laundry room, which was stacked with soiled clothes, then back around into the Carolina room. Pausing to check on what his daughters were watching on TV, he headed toward the hall. She followed.

“My office, and off-limits.” He gestured without looking back at her.

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

He cast her a sharp glance. She blinked sweetly and motioned for him to proceed.

He walked, pointing out the steep staircase leading to the girls’ rooms on the second floor, informing her that Mrs. Winslow went home to her son’s each evening unless work took Nash into the night. He stopped before a door, turned the knob, pushed, then leaned back against the frame, waiting.

“Your room.”

She looked. It was a normal guest bedroom, neutral decor, bright with sunlight. Was he waiting for her to disapprove of something? She hadn’t had a room to call her own until college, but walls meant little to Hayley; it was what was inside them that mattered. “This is fine.” She hurled her bag onto the bed, kicked off her shoes and looked at him. Wonderful. He was now another two inches taller.

“I suppose you have work to do. I’ll get started.” She walked back down the hall.

Nash blinked and straightened. “Don’t you need…?”

She glanced over her shoulder, enjoying his confusion. “What? More instructions? That’s not why you hired me. The agency gave me a thorough job description. Go do whatever it is you do on a horse ranch or plantation or whatever.” She waved toward the door as she walked into the living room. “We’ll be fine. Won’t we, girls?”

The twins spun on the sofa, peering over the back of it like squirrels. Hayley winked. They were button cute and itching with energy they’d obviously learned to curtail around their dad. Their gazes shifted to him, then to her.

“Would you like me to fix you some lunch or something before you go?” Hayley asked Nash.

“No.” Nash had the feeling he was being dismissed in his own house. “Chow’s usually at sundown.”

“It’ll be ready.”

His look said he doubted that as he grabbed his hat, eyed her briefly, then crossed to the sofa, sinking between his daughters and pulling them onto his lap. “I wish I could hang around with you.” He made an exaggerated sad face and they giggled.

“Horses won’t get fed,” Kate said.

“Then they’ll be too stubborn to sell,” her sister added. “We’ll be okay.”

They were so grown-up about this, and Nash’s chest tightened. “Behave. No mischief like yesterday.”

They blushed. “Yup.” He eyed them. “Yes, Daddy,” they chimed.

“Promise?” He held up his little finger, and his daughters hooked theirs around his and nodded. He grinned, kissed them, then shifted them off his lap.

Hayley felt like the outsider she was and wished she’d been that close to her father at that age. She’d lost her mom when she was seven, and her father, being a salesman, dragged her all over the country. She met many people, saw wonderful sights, but never knew permanence, never had a home until the sorority house in college. If the twins weren’t so cute she could almost envy them. They’d grown up in this house with the same people around them, and would probably marry local boys and have their weddings right here. Her heart jerked. Were Michelle and Nash married here? She warned herself not to go there. It was too painful to even ask. And it was the past. Why open up the wound?

Nash crossed to her and for a second he just stared, then said, “Those girls are my life, Hayley.”

His heart was on his sleeve just then, and Hayley was touched by the depth of his feelings for his daughters. “I’ll take good care of them, I promise,” she said.

He nodded briskly and left.

Hayley sighed, a little too drained around that man. She looked at the girls. “There’s a lot of work to do. So you can either sit there and watch TV for the next hour, fry a few more brain cells, or you can lend a hand and we’ll have some fun later. Whaddaya say?”

“What kind of fun?”

Hayley looked thoughtful. “I think this should be a group decision.”

They were off the sofa in less time than it took to take a breath, following her like mice to cheese.

“That your new wife, boss?”

Nash didn’t respond to the ranch hand’s comment and continued walking toward the barn, yanking his gloves from his back pocket.

“I thought mail-order brides went out in the nineteenth century,” Seth snickered.

“Y’all must have your work done if you’re sitting on your butts, right?” Nash said, pulling on the gloves.

Young Beau hopped off the back of the truck and hefted another hay bale onto the bed.

Nash paused long enough to issue orders before he strode into the breeding barn. The Thoroughbred auction was a week away, and his stock had better be in prime condition to sell. Briefly he checked on a mare about to foal, thinking how this addition was going to help stock his lands with good Thoroughbreds. Anyone for miles around this country knew it wasn’t the horses a breeder had, but the land they had to graze and raise them. This land had been under the guardianship of a Rayburn since before the American Revolution, and Nash had always felt there were generations of his ancestors staring down at him the day he took over the reins. He had a reputation and tradition to maintain, but with the girls growing and needing more of him, it was getting harder to divide his time and do the things he needed to make their life better.

Nash muttered a curse and knew he was just avoiding any thoughts of Hayley. She still made him breathe hard, and he knew he hadn’t been very congenial to her. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t control his emotions around her. She stirred up every memory he’d suppressed since he’d broken up with her—and married Michelle.

Walking into the stall of the horse he usually rode, Nash saddled the animal. Then he paused with his hand on the pommel. He couldn’t tell Hayley the truth, even if it was to ease the old hurt she tried to deny she felt. It would just make the entire situation worse. Mounting his horse, he rode around the rim of the paddock before leaping the fence and taking off across the pasture, trying hard not to think that the one woman he’d wanted in his house was now there. Or that his first honest, totally masculine reaction when he saw her was to wonder whether she still looked as good naked as she did fully clothed.

Hayley hefted the picnic basket, walking down the long stone-scattered driveway and heading off on the side road, under the drape of willow and sweet-gum trees, to the barns. Beside her, Kim and Kate each carried a big thermos and struggled to keep up. She veered in the direction of voices. Male voices. When she rounded the edge of the barn, she gave a shrill whistle, bringing heads around.

“Hey, fellas,” she called, holding up the basket. “Hungry?”

Six men dropped their pitchforks, lashed leads to posts or set shovels aside and came to her like foxes after bunnies as she set the basket on the tailgate of the truck and opened the lid. She introduced herself and each ranch hand tipped his hat a fraction and nodded cordially. Jimmy Lee was long and lanky with a big smile and deeply tanned skin. He had an intense stare and wasn’t above having a look-see of her from head to foot, until Beau nudged him. Beau was young, just out of high school, she imagined, and blushed went she shook his hand. There was Ronnie, about forty, with hair too long for his age and tied back in a ponytail, his straw cowboy hat crimped to fit his head just so. He didn’t talk and just eyeballed her, accepting a cup of cold water. Then there was Bubba.

“Just what name does Bubba replace?” she asked the older man, gray-haired with weathered features and a sweat-dampened dark T-shirt.

“Robert. Bob.”

Hayley decided Robert fit him better, despite the muscled chest, John Deere hat and overalls. Seth moved closer, lifting Kate and Kim onto the tailgate and peering into the basket.

“Miss Hayley made sandwiches, Mr. Seth. Big hulking ones,” Kate said, glancing at Hayley.

She winked, then motioned to the twins with a stack of paper cups to pour some water for the men first. “I’ve got roast beef, ham and cheese, turkey and plenty of everything.” Hayley fluffed out a tablecloth, then hitched her rear on the tailgate to lay out the meal with chips and fruit. “There’s coffee for you, Ronnie,” she said. “Kim mentioned you favored it, even in this heat.”

“Yes, ma’am, I do.” He took the thermos and poured a steaming cup.

Hayley felt perspiration trickle down her spine at just the thought of drinking it right now.

She served up a plateful for each of the men, then pulled out the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches the girls had requested. Sitting atop hay bales in the truck, Kim and Kate were in heaven over the outdoor break. As she munched, Hayley studied the house. It was a massive structure in the low-country, two-story style, with a porch that wrapped completely around it. And this one, she’d discovered while vacuuming earlier, went on forever. There were six bedrooms in the place, and there was also a guest cottage out back near the pool. Beyond the two huge barns was a bunkhouse. The whole place was beautiful, and Hayley relaxed just looking at it. River Willow. She’d forgotten the name over the years, but as with Nash, that was all she’d forgotten.

The distant sound of hoofbeats came to Hayley, and she glanced around just as Nash came riding over the hill from the west side of the house. The girls waved and he waved back. He paused on the hill, shadowed beneath a tall willow tree, and her heart did a strange leap in her chest. That was just too much man for one body, she thought. He looked magnificent, exuding strength and masculine power, and for an instant, the image of a man, a hundred years ago in a billowy white shirt and knee breeches, flooded her mind. Old family, a Southern gentleman, even if he’d grown sharp around the edges. He met her gaze, and even at this distance she could feel it glide over her skin, pause where it shouldn’t, yet flattering her that it did.

He still turns me inside out, she thought.

His horse pranced delicately before he bolted toward the barns. Hayley turned back to the truck, resisting the urge to fan herself. The girls wadded up the sandwich wrappers and tossed them in the basket. She sent them off to collect the trash from the men as she packed up. When she looked up again, Nash was a few yards away. But she’d heard him, felt her pulse quicken when she knew he was riding closer. It was disgusting, this chaos she felt around him still.

“What are you doing out here?” He slid from the horse’s back and stormed toward her.

If he thought she’d run for cover, he was wrong. She had to stick with this, finish this job. And nothing, not even his intimidating glare, was going to make her back down. “Y’all need to stiffen up a bit.” She gestured to the ranch hands and Nash. “You’re just too loose and happy-go-lucky. I’m surprised you get a lick of work done.” The hands snickered, moving quickly off, and Nash stopped, his blue eyes narrowing.

“Does it hurt?” she asked.

He looked at her from beneath the brim of his hat. “Does what hurt?”

“To smile.”

Disarmed, his lips twitched. Behind her, the twins giggled.

“Guess not.” Nash wondered now why he was so angry. Was it that his ranch hands were flirting with her, or was it that she was simply here, winning everyone over but him?

“Thanks a heap, Miss Hayley,” Jimmy Lee said as he sauntered back, handing her his cup and letting his gaze slide up and down long enough to make her blush.

“You’re a rascal, Jim.”

Nash gritted his teeth at the smile she gave the man.

“That’s what my mama keeps saying.” He walked away and Hayley flipped open the basket and held out a sandwich to Nash. “Would you like one?”

He looked between her and the sandwich.

“This doesn’t take a lot of brain power, Nash. A simple yes or no will do.”

Nash took the sandwich. She tossed him a soda, forcing him to catch it.

“Come on, girls.” She slapped the basket lid shut and inclined her head. Kim and Kate scrambled down, stopping before Nash. He squatted to meet their gaze and gave each of them a quick kiss.

“What have you been doing all morning?” he asked.

“Laundry,” they said, smiling.

“You never liked doing it with me.”

“But with Miss Hayley—” the girls looked at her adoringly “—it’s fun.”

“Well, we still have a ton of chores before party time, ladies.” She hooked a thumb toward the house and the girls skipped on ahead.

Nash straightened, the motion bringing him inches from her. He caught the scent of jasmine again, felt the heat of her body. He took a step back. “Party time?”

“I’ve promised them a game or two. Is it all right if they go in the pool?” At his hesitation, she added, “I’m an excellent swimmer.”

He knew that and hated to deprive the girls. “Sure, just let me know before you get in so I can check the chlorine.”

“I already did.” She turned away, not seeing his brows shoot up.

“Thanks, Miss Hayley,” the men chimed.