My Favorite Husband

by Pam McCutcheon

  He stared at her as if surprised she even had to ask. “I love the real Kelly, of course. I see her as she really is.”

  Candace sighed. She doubted that. No one seemed to know the real Kelly, least of all Kelly herself. But it was time for some plain talking. “You know it’s obvious she loves Chaz. Even if she didn’t, she feels an obligation to him. Once he showed back up in her life, I’m afraid you didn’t have a chance.”

  Spencer slumped. “I know.”

  “Then why fight it? You know what the outcome will be.”

  “Because I hate to let him win at everything. The oh-so-charming Chaz Vincent has always been between us. The years of his captivity, she was always focused on finding him, always telling me how wonderful he was. And now that he’s back, she sees his irresponsible ways as charming. And she thinks his theatrics—like climbing up to her balcony in some ridiculous costume—are romantic.” He paused, his mouth set in an angry line. “It would serve him right if he were given a dose of his own medicine.”

  “What do you mean?” Spencer looked determined enough to do almost anything.

  He gave her a look of surprise. “Nothing. Just that it would be nice if he were on the receiving end of some of his wild ideas for a change.” Then a sudden calculating expression crossed his face.

  Ignoring that, Candace returned to the subject that interested her the most. “So, if Kelly were out of the picture, would you see someone else?”

  “Possibly,” he said bitingly. “But I don’t seem to be what women want. I’m not devil-may-care, flamboyant, or wicked.”

  “Not every man can be Chaz Vincent,” Candace said. Then, her heart pounding in her chest, she decided to take a little risk. “But that isn’t a bad thing, just different. You are handsome, elegant, suave, sophisticated. That’s very sexy to some women.”

  That surprised him. “Sexy? You think so?”

  “Very much so. Some women find that far more appealing.” Like me, she wanted to add, but didn’t have the courage. But she hoped her eyes conveyed the message she felt in her heart.

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe I should find such a woman then.”

  Finally. Candace tried not to let her exultation show as she said, “Yes, maybe you should.”

  * * *

  Kelly had to hurry to keep up with Chaz’s long strides. She sensed his mood had changed, but she didn’t quite understand how. “What are you thinking, Chaz?” she said to his back.

  No response, unless you counted a stiffening of his back and the fact that he picked up a little speed. She had to hurry even more to keep up with him. Okay, maybe he just wanted to get back in his room before the reporters spotted him again. She could understand that.

  At least the view from this angle was really nice. No matter what she thought of Chaz’s morals, she had to admit he was very sexy and had a cute butt, especially in those leather pants. But right now, even his butt looked taut and angry.

  She followed him back into the hotel and up the stairs to the third floor. At the top of the stairs, she tried to catch her breath and spoke again. “What are you so ticked about? I’m the one you lied to.”

  Still no answer.

  He peered out the stairwell door and must not have seen anyone, for he strode across the hall to his room. As he fished in his shirt for his wallet—it obviously wouldn’t fit in those tight pants—Kelly tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, remember me? I want to talk to you.”

  He glared at her as he fit the card key in the slot. “That’s not what you said earlier.”

  “Well, I changed my mind.” Especially since she wanted to know what the heck was going on in his. When he opened the door, she pushed her way in behind him. “And I’m not leaving until we talk.”

  He shut the door and bolted it. “Fine. Say what you have to say.” He glared at her. “But I’m getting out of these clothes.”

  Now that he’d agreed to listen, she wasn’t quite sure what to say. As she hesitated, he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled out the nightgown she had worn so briefly the night before, then dumped it on the floor.

  She stared at the crumpled heap of red silk, feeling a shaft of pain pierce her. Why had he gathered it up so carefully this morning, only to discard it so callously now?

  Okay, sure, she had done the same thing this morning. But she had been very angry, had felt betrayed by his eagerness to leave her again so quickly after he had finally come home. What right did he have to be angry at her?

  Small feelings of guilt and doubt niggled at her. Chaz didn’t normally get angry for no reason. Had she been too harsh with him?

  His flowing white shirt hit the floor, landing on top of the red silk.

  She glanced up to see Chaz glaring at her as he pulled a T-shirt down over his head. “Are you planning to feed me the same pap you gave Deuce? Well, save it.”

  There was that strange nickname again. “No, I just want to know why you’re so angry.”

  “Do you have to ask?” he asked as he unbuttoned his pants.

  “Yes,” she said, swallowing hard and trying not to look at anything below his waist. “Explain it to me, Chaz.”

  His hands on his hips, Chaz leaned forward from the waist. “You want to know why? Fine. I’m angry that I came home to this stupid farce, that Garcia is a frigging clinging vine, that my wife is married to another man—”

  “But—”

  His raised voice rode over her protest like she hadn’t even spoken. “And I’m totally pissed off that you don’t believe a goddamned word I say.”

  “That’s not true,” she protested.

  “Yes, it is. Garcia, who by the way hasn’t lived in the real world for decades, makes up some little fantasy in her own head about me—and you believe her?”

  “It sounded true. . . .”

  “In what alternate universe?” he asked incredulously. He made an impatient gesture. “You know what? I think you were looking for a reason to punish me.”

  “What?” That didn’t even make sense.

  “Well, I’m no shrink, but even I can see that you haven’t forgiven me for getting lost, for leaving you alone for so long. Rationalize it any way you want, it’s obvious you’re punishing me.”

  “I am not. I’ve been looking for you for five years. Why would I want to punish you once I finally found you?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you finally got your life just the way you like it? A good job, a wuss for a husband, and Mommy’s approval? Well, you got it, babe. I hope you like it.”

  “But—” she began, only to cut her words short when Chaz turned his back on her, drew down the zipper and bent over to peel off his tight pants.

  Her mouth dropped open as Chaz mooned her. Jeez, talk about nonverbal body language. “Now that’s just rude.”

  “You didn’t think so last night,” he said in biting tones as he rummaged in a drawer and pulled out some clothing. “I distinctly remember you admiring my bare ass.” Then, unfortunately, he covered it with a pair of briefs.

  “I don’t want to talk about last night.” Or his ass.

  “Why not?” He jerked his jeans on and glared at her. “Remind you too much of what you’ll be missing?”

  Unfortunately, yes. “Last night was . . .” Wonderful, magical, romantic. It made what came afterward so much more disappointing.

  “Was what?” he demanded. “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it, because I know better.”

  Ignoring that, she drew herself up and said, “It was under false pretences.”

  “What false pretences?”

  “I was under the impression that you were going to stay in this country.”

  He shook his head in disbelief. “You’re as bad as Amalia.”

  Now there was an insult she couldn’t ignore. Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that?”

  “You both live in fantasy worlds of your own imagining, where you’re the queen of the world and everyone does exactly as you expect, no matter how much they ha
te it. There has to be some give and take in marriage, you know.”

  “I know. All I wanted was to spend some time with you, to live with you as husband and wife. Instead, you make plans to leave me at the first opportunity, without even consulting me. Where’s the give and take there? That’s not a marriage. That’s a male version of heaven.”

  “What?”

  “You know—come home to the compliant little wife, get your rocks off, then take off for something more exciting and adventurous.” The truth of those words speared more pain through her heart. “I’d never be enough for you, would I, Chaz?”

  “You’re missing the point.”

  “Then tell me what it is.”

  He shook his head sadly. “The point is that you can’t, you won’t, trust me or forgive me.”

  There was a little truth in that, but . . . “Give me a reason to,” she challenged.

  He turned his back on her and started pulling more clothes from the drawer. “No, thanks. That’s all I’ve been doing for the last few days, but it hasn’t worked. I’m tired of it.”

  “So that’s it? It’s over, just like that?” And why did it make her want to cry?

  Chaz stared at her in disbelief. “Isn’t that what you said you wanted?”

  “Yes, but . . .” Chaz had been fighting for her all along. Why was he giving up now? Then, as he stuffed some clothes into a backpack, she asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Packing.”

  “I can see that. Why?”

  He shrugged. “No reason to stay anymore. You’ve made that clear.”

  No, he couldn’t leave again. Not when he had just gotten back. “You can’t go now,” she blurted out.

  “Why not?”

  “Because . . .” She searched for a reason to keep him here. “Because we don’t know all the legal ramifications yet. You have to wait until we talk to Gerald, to see what our situation is in the eyes of the law.” When he hesitated, she added, “It’s only another twelve hours or so. Surely you can wait that long.”

  Chaz shook his head. “I can, but can the Garcia brothers?”

  Oh. She’d forgotten about them. “Just stay in your room—they can’t get to you then.”

  He gave a weary sigh and dropped the backpack on the bed. “Okay.”

  “You agree?” she asked in surprise. She hadn’t thought it would be that easy.

  He shrugged. “Why not? I don’t want to argue anymore, and you’re right. It won’t hurt to wait a little longer.”

  Satisfied now that she had won at least a small concession, Kelly said, “I’ll just go back to my room then.”

  “Wait a minute.” Chaz crossed the room to peer out the peephole. “There’s someone lingering in the hallway. Looks like a reporter.”

  She pushed him aside to look for herself. Darn it, he was right. “Do you mind if I stay a little longer, then?”

  “You could try to make a break for it,” Chaz said diffidently. “It’s only one guy.”

  Ticked that he seemed so eager to get rid of her, Kelly peered out again. “That’s true, but he has a camera and I’d rather not give him any more opportunities for unauthorized photos. Besides, he can’t be sure we’re here, or even which room we’re in. Maybe he’ll give up after a little while and go away.”

  Chaz shrugged. “Whatever. Stay if you want. I don’t care.”

  Not exactly hospitable. But that didn’t matter. For some strange reason, she was rather reluctant to leave. . . .

  15

  Not wanting to deal with the awkward silence, Chaz addressed another problem. “I’m hungry.” Their continental breakfast seemed like ages ago, though it had only been a few hours.

  A frown creased Kelly’s brow. “What do you plan to do about it?”

  “I thought I’d eat,” he said dryly.

  Kelly rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean.”

  Yeah, he was being difficult. So what? “We can order room service.”

  “But if they bring food to this room, the guy outside will suspect we’re here, and we’ll never get rid of him.”

  Annoyed, Chaz asked, “What do you suggest, then? All they have in this tiny fridge are some peanuts and snack stuff. That won’t make a meal and they’re not cheap.”

  “Maybe—”

  The phone rang, interrupting her, and Chaz answered it.

  “Hi, it’s Scott. Say, that idea worked like a charm—”

  Chaz interrupted him, asking, “Where are you?”

  “Downstairs, in the lobby. Waiting for the reporters to clear out.”

  “Well, one of them came back up here and is lurking outside. Could you do us a favor and grab some burgers or something and bring them up to us? Kelly’s here and she doesn’t want anyone to know where we are.”

  “Sure,” Scott said. “But won’t he figure it out when I knock?”

  Oh, that’s right. Chaz thought a moment. “Don’t knock, then. Just call from downstairs and we’ll watch for you. Pretend you’re putting your key card in our door, and we’ll open it. He won’t know it’s not your room.”

  “Okay,” Scott said and they hung up.

  “That was Scott,” Chaz said, then added unnecessarily, “He’s bringing us lunch.”

  “I heard,” Kelly said.

  And the awkward silence fell again. Chaz dropped into a chair while Kelly paced in the small confines of the room and looked out the peephole about every two minutes. After a half hour of that, he was ready to beg her to stop, but Scott finally called and they let him in as arranged.

  Scott headed toward the desk with a bag that exuded the heavenly aroma of fries, but stopped abruptly and looked down at his feet. “Very nice,” he said. “Tell me, does the red negligee go over or under the Zorro outfit?”

  Damn it, Chaz had forgotten to pick the clothes up off the floor. He strode over and bundled them up, shoving them in a nearby drawer. “Neither,” he said shortly. “They both came off at about the same time.”

  If he thought to disconcert Scott, he missed the mark, as was evident from Scott’s smirk.

  Kelly, though, looked a little embarrassed. “What did you bring us?” she asked, obviously trying to change the subject.

  Scott offered her the large bag with the air of a man presenting her with precious jewels. “Burgers and fries as requested.”

  Good—man food. And lots of it. Chaz moved to clear off the desk.

  “Did you bring anything to drink?” Kelly asked.

  No complaints about the plebian food, he noticed. That was one thing Chaz had always liked about Kelly—she didn’t share her mother’s abhorrence of the common man’s preferences.

  “No, I was afraid the sight of three cups might tip off the guy in the hallway,” Scott explained.

  “No problem,” Chaz said. “There are sodas in the fridge.”

  As they settled in to eat, Scott filled them in on what had happened. “It worked just the way you said it would,” he said with a grin. “They chased us down the stairs and out the side door. I wasn’t sure whether to keep on going or not, but one of them got the bright idea to grab Amalia’s coat. He yanked it away from her, then another did the same to me.”

  Scott laughed. “They caught some of her hair in a button. You should have seen their faces when Amalia turned and started screeching at them.”

  “Did you tell them anything?” Kelly asked.

  “Didn’t need to. They obviously knew we weren’t you guys, but they shouted a bunch of questions at us anyway. I just ignored them, but when one of the photographers was stupid enough to snap a shot of Amalia in full tilt mode, one of her brothers broke the camera.” Scott shook his head, smiling. “So the reporters yelled at them in English and they screamed back in Spanish. No one seemed to understand a word anyone else was saying. It was priceless.”

  “So, how’d you get away?” Chaz asked around a mouthful of fries.

  “They got ticked off when Amalia called them bastardos—they understood that well enough—a
nd surged forward. The Garcia brothers blocked them, and we were able to escape.” Scott shook his head admiringly. “I tell ya, the Broncos could sure use those guys.”

  “What happened to Amalia?” Chaz asked, hoping she hadn’t decided to follow Scott.

  “Oh, she was still raving as we came back into the hotel. One of the desk clerks made the mistake of asking her to lower her voice, and she lit into him. While she was still chewing him out, I got out of there.”

  “Good,” Kelly declared. “Then they didn’t get any more information from you.”

  “Not a word,” Scott declared.

  Chaz grinned. “Sounds like you enjoyed yourself.”

  “Yeah,” Scott said. “I gotta hand it to you, Chaz. Life is never dull when you’re around.”

  Too bad Kelly didn’t feel the same way.

  She wiped her mouth with a napkin and dropped the rest of her meal in the trash. “Do you think that trick would work again on the guy outside?” she asked Scott.

  “No, he knows me now.”

  “And it would just confirm we’re here,” Chaz added.

  Kelly sighed. “Then how am I going to get out of here?”

  Scott glanced back and forth between them. “You really want out? After last night, I thought—”

  Kelly cut him off with a gesture. “Yes, I want out.”

  But Chaz was beginning to wonder. Kelly had seemed awfully eager to get rid of him until he had gotten angry. Then she wouldn’t leave him alone. What was going on?

  And, he suddenly wondered, what would happen if they spent a little more time together, alone?

  So when Scott gave him an inquiring look, Chaz shook his head slightly, trying to convey that he didn’t want Kelly to leave.

  Scott regarded him thoughtfully. “Well, you left the rope in Spencer’s room, so that’s out. Chaz is the man with the plans. You have any ideas on how to get her out without being spotted?”

  “Sorry,” Chaz said. “All tapped out. Besides, all we have to do is wait. Sooner or later, he’s gonna have to leave to get something to eat or go to the bathroom.”

  Scott nodded. “True.”

  “But what if he doesn’t? I can’t stay here all night,” Kelly protested.