The Seduction of His Wife

by Janet Chapman

  And maybe…maybe he could even get back into her bed before she left, just to show her how good lovemaking could be. Grady had said Sarah needed loosening up, and what better way to do that than to show her how fun lovemaking can be between two consenting—and awake—adults?

  Alex sighed, closed his eyes, and snuggled into the bed he’d been dreaming about for two hellish weeks. He would have to let Sarah go eventually, but why not send her away with some pleasant memories to replace the unpleasant ones?

  He wouldn’t mind having a few pleasurable new memories himself.

  Chapter Seven

  S arah woke up at nine and quickly dressed to make everyone breakfast, but she found only an empty house. A note on the table said that Grady and Alex and Delaney and Tucker had gone to Greenville, which was thirty miles past Oak Grove, and Ethan and Paul were out at the cutting, checking on their crew. The note also said not to expect any of them home until late afternoon.

  So Sarah ate cold cereal and spent the rest of the morning convincing herself that she’d made the right decision to stay. Just the thought of leaving made her heart ache, she loved Delaney and Tucker so much. And she still wasn’t ready to give up her dream of opening the sporting camps, despite knowing that whether it was three miles separating them or three hundred miles, she would never be able to get Alex Knight out of her head.

  When she had thrown her sheets into the washer, she had blushed the whole time, unable to forget the feel of his mouth on her breasts. How was she going to survive living under the same roof with Alex for the next six weeks? The way her heart was pounding just thinking of him, she’d be throwing herself into his arms within a week.

  With her sheets drying on the line, Sarah went about putting everything in her kitchen back where it belonged, while she absently listened to Martha Stewart on television explaining how to clarify butter. Sarah spent ten minutes searching for her roasting pan before she finally spotted it on the top shelf of the pantry; she frowned, wondering how Ethan and Paul could possibly have dented the heavy pan. She must have fallen into a catatonic sleep the moment her head hit the pillow last night, not to have heard the roaster getting dented.

  With the kitchen finally put back the way she liked it, Sarah shut off the TV and headed into the great room, turning on the TV in there to watch a quilting show while she picked up the school projects Delaney and Tucker had dug out to show their father. The phone rang, and Sarah was undecided about whether or not she should answer it. Nine calls out of ten related to the Knights’ logging business, which she knew absolutely nothing about. But after having Alex show up without warning because she’d let the machine take the calls, Sarah decided she should start answering the phone.

  “NorthWoods Timber,” she said.

  Silence answered her.

  “Hello?”

  Still nothing. But Sarah knew the line was open, because she could hear fast-moving traffic in the background. “Hello?” she repeated. “Who’s there?”

  There was a sudden click, and the drone of the dial tone was all that answered her.

  Sarah set down the phone with a frown. This was the first time this had happened to her, though it had happened to Paul once and to Grady twice in the last two weeks. Who kept calling, and why didn’t they say something?

  The clock in the corner chimed noon, and Sarah shook off her concern, deciding the Knights must have a number similar to someone else’s. She turned the TV to a music video channel, and Toby Keith’s voice filled the great room. Sarah picked up her dust rag and went back to work.

  Ten minutes later, as she was standing on a stool in front of the hearth to give the moose’s antlers a good dusting, a pair of large hands suddenly wrapped around her waist like an iron band. Sarah gasped in surprise and nearly fell; she’d been singing along with the TV and hadn’t heard anyone come in. She twisted around and looked down to find herself chest-to-nose with Alex. She tried to step away, the stool wobbled, and his hands on her waist tightened.

  “You shouldn’t be climbing on stools when no one is home,” he said, plucking her off and setting her on the floor.

  “I think I’d survive a three-foot fall,” she shot back as she scurried away. The phone rang again. “Aren’t you going to answer that?” she asked when he didn’t move.

  “You’re the housekeeper, you should answer it.”

  “It’s probably for you,” she said when it rang for the third time. Her heart still racing from the feel of his hands around her waist—not to mention that her breasts were still tingling from bumping into his head—Sarah gave Alex a brilliant smile. “It’s probably one of your old girlfriends, calling to welcome you back from the dead.”

  He said nothing to that.

  The phone rang for the fifth time, and Sarah plucked it off the coffee table and hit the talk button. “NorthWoods Timber,” she said. “Yes, this is Mrs. Alex Knight…. Well, thank you, Mr. Porter, for your condolences. No, Grady’s not—”

  Alex snatched the phone from her. “What in hell do you want, Porter?” he growled into the receiver. He suddenly smiled, not a very nice smile. “Yeah, it’s me,” Alex continued, his voice as dangerous as the look on his face. “I’m not dead, so don’t bother coming out to give your condolences to my widow. And the answer’s still no. We catch anything other than your logging trucks on our roads, and we’ll sue you for trespassing.”

  Without so much as a goodbye, Alex punched the off button and tossed the phone onto the couch before turning his dangerous look on Sarah. “If Clay Porter calls again, you hang up the moment you realize it’s him. And if he dares to show up here in person, you point your shotgun at him.”

  It seemed Clay Porter wasn’t one of Alex’s favorite people. “Would that be the shotgun I’m not supposed to point at anyone because it doesn’t have a firing pin?”

  His scowl deepened. “Just don’t let him in,” he said, turning on his heel and heading into the kitchen. “Is there any pie left?”

  Sarah followed him through the swinging door. “Who is Clay Porter?” she asked, gaping when he strode to the counter and picked up a piece of pie with his bare hands.

  “He’s our land neighbor to the north,” Alex told her after taking a bite, practically inhaling the pie. “His logging trucks use our main hauling artery to get his pulp and timber to market.”

  “And you want to sue him for trespassing?”

  “Only if he uses our roads for anything other than hauling trees.”

  “What else would he use them for?”

  “Moving heavy equipment,” Alex said around another mouthful of pie. He leaned against the counter, his expression still menacing as he chewed and finally swallowed. “About ten miles farther up, the artery has deteriorated, and Clay wants to rebuild it.”

  “And you don’t want him to improve your road? But why?”

  “We don’t need it rebuilt yet. We won’t be cutting that far out for another three years.”

  Sarah was thoroughly confused. “But why not let Mr. Porter fix your road for you now, if it will benefit you eventually?”

  “We have to let him use our main hauling artery because of an agreement Grady signed with his father twenty years ago, but that agreement doesn’t say anything about making it easy for him.”

  “And letting him rebuild your road would be helping the competition? Is the logging market that tight?”

  Chewing the last of his piece of pie, Alex shook his head.

  “Then why not let him fix the road?” she asked again, her patience waning.

  Alex swallowed and then smiled, again not very nicely. “Because we don’t want to.” He pushed away from the counter and stepped closer to glare down at her. “You stay away from Clay Porter, understand?”

  No, she didn’t understand a darn thing, but looking up into Alex’s dark eyes, Sarah simply nodded and changed the subject. “Where are Delaney and Tucker? Your note said they were with you.”

  “Grady took the kids out to the cutting. He droppe
d me off to get one of our pulp loaders out of the shop to transport it to the cutting.” His smile softened. “Ethan’s going to let Tucker drive one of the skidders since no one’s working today.”

  “Drive it?” Sarah squeaked. “But he’s only seven.”

  “I was driving skidders at five. And Delaney’s been driving them since she was six.”

  Sarah thought that Alex and Ethan were idiots for letting children drive such a monstrous machine. She walked over to the wall of pegs and took down her jacket. “I’m going for a walk,” she said as Alex scooped up the last piece of pie.

  Sarah woke three days later to a cold, driving rain laced with sleet. But the sun was shining inside her with the memory of a wonderful weekend, so she didn’t care how bad it was storming outside. Delaney and Tucker had been glued to their father since he came home, and Alex couldn’t seem to be happier about it.

  Sarah had quietly stayed out of everyone’s way, content to watch the whole family enjoy their reunion. Even Paul seemed reluctant to leave home and had forgone his usual Friday and Saturday night dates. The men played with the kids all day, and after Delaney and Tucker went to bed, they would head into the office off the great room, share a couple of drinks, then all head outside to soak in the hot tub before going to bed themselves.

  Neither Grady nor Alex had asked Sarah if she was staying or not, so Sarah hadn’t bothered to tell them she was. She didn’t know if Alex was assuming she was staying or if he was afraid to ask for her answer. Then again, maybe he was as embarrassed over what had happened between them as she was and had adopted her strategy of pretending they weren’t married.

  So far, it seemed to be working well for both of them.

  Sarah finally got out of bed and quickly dressed to make breakfast and put up six lunches. The kids had to return to school today, and the men had to go back to work in the woods—even in the rain. Fried eggs and bacon and crisp toast greeted the Knights as they trailed into the kitchen, a sleepy Tucker bringing up the rear.

  “I don’t want to go to school today,” Tucker said. “I want to go to work with you, Dad, and drive the skidder again.”

  Alex smiled at his grumpy son. “I’m not going to the woods today, Tuck. I have to run into town for parts, and then I’m working in the machine shop to fix one of our trucks. You’d be bored.”

  Tucker scowled at his eggs, then suddenly brightened. “The tube for my bike tire might be in. Will you pick it up for me? And put it on my bike?”

  Alex promised he would, and peace reigned for the rest of the meal, forks and glasses clinking amid quiet conversation, until everyone left. Alex took the children to the end of the lane to catch the school bus, Paul headed out to the shop to start tearing apart the truck engine, and Grady and Ethan headed out to the cutting to check on the crew.

  As soon as the house was empty, Sarah started picking up the breakfast dishes, smiling as she thought of how particularly handsome Alex had looked this morning. His eyes were finally losing that haunted look, and he seemed to be gaining weight. She liked to think it was her cooking that was helping Alex recover from his grueling ordeal. The best medicine was a loving family and good food, Sarah’s mom had always said.

  But Sarah’s careful attention to meals hadn’t been enough to stop her mom from dying when Sarah was only fourteen. Nor had her wonderful soups enabled her daddy to recover from his fall from the roof when she was sixteen. He had lingered for nearly nine months and had died just before her seventeenth birthday. Five weeks later, Martha Banks had managed to talk Sarah into marrying her son.

  As Sarah started stacking the dishes in the dishwasher, her thoughts turned once again to Alex. He could have been exactly the kind of man she had once dreamed about being married to. It wasn’t until her wedding night with Roland that Sarah had realized her dream of a loving home filled with children was never going to happen.

  But she had two lovable children now. And she had a temporary husband. And come spring, she would be running her very own business and living in her own lodge three miles up the lake—close enough to stay in contact with Delaney and Tucker but far enough away to avoid their father. So, for a little while at least, Sarah could live out her dream.

  She snorted to herself. Alex would undoubtedly bring up their divorce as soon as some woman in town caught his eye and he realized he couldn’t very well ask her out while he still had a wife at home. He’d likely file for divorce on January 2—he couldn’t live like a monk forever.

  Sarah quickly finished the morning dishes and went upstairs to make the beds and clean the two bathrooms. When she came barreling into the kitchen two hours later, her arms full of dirty towels, she saw a vase of pink roses sitting on the kitchen table. She stopped in her tracks, dropped the towels right in the middle of the floor, and stared at the beautiful flowers.

  A card was nestled in their center. She leaned over the table and tried to read it, but the card was in an envelope. She went to the sink window, saw Alex carrying a box of parts into the shop, and then walked back to the table. Careful not to disturb so much as a petal, she inched the envelope out and opened it. The card read: To the sweetest woman this side of the Canadian border.

  She smiled. Paul must have an important date tonight and had asked Alex to pick up some flowers for him. Lucky girl. Sarah slipped the note back into the envelope and returned it to its nest. At least she could enjoy the roses for the day, she decided as she picked up the towels and headed to the laundry room.

  Grady and Ethan came back from the woods around noon, and all four men came in for lunch. Sarah usually packed them a giant basket of food to take to the woods, but they had told her they needed to work on the equipment this afternoon, so they’d be home for lunch.

  “My, my. What pretty flowers,” Grady said as they all sat down.

  Sarah beamed at him. “Aren’t they the most beautiful roses you’ve ever seen?” She turned her smile on Paul, only to have him wink at her. Not surprised by Paul’s flirting—he just couldn’t seem to help himself—she darted a glance at Alex and found him looking back at her expectantly.

  She smiled.

  He lifted one brow, as if he were waiting for her to say or do something. She refilled his glass with milk, but instead of thanking her, Alex frowned.

  Sarah sighed, not knowing what was bothering him. Maybe it was the fact that Paul was going out tonight and Alex couldn’t openly date until they got their divorce. Maybe he envied Paul and Ethan their freedom.

  Conversation was light, and the meal was short, the men having plenty of work to get back to. They soon started for the door, Grady whistling, Ethan trying to hide his smile, and Paul openly grinning.

  “Well, guys,” Paul said. “I hate to leave you in the lurch, but I promised Jane Trott I’d drive her to Bangor this afternoon. Don’t set a place for me for dinner, Sarah.” He winked at her again. “Or at the breakfast table. We’ll probably stay the night in Bangor.”

  Sarah turned from setting some plates in the sink. “Wait, Paul, you forgot your roses.”

  “My roses?” he said, looking confused.

  “Aren’t you taking them to Jane?” she asked, a bit confused herself.

  Ethan snorted. “Paul hasn’t bought a woman flowers since his senior prom.”

  Alex closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the door casing. Grady started laughing, pushing first Ethan and then Paul through the door before slapping his oldest son on the shoulder on his way by.

  “Alex bought the roses,” Grady said.

  Alex bought them?

  Alex closed the door and turned to her. “Yes, Sarah. I bought the roses for you.”

  “Me?” she squeaked, bringing her soapy hands up to her face, which made her sputter to spit out the bubbles. “Why would you buy me roses?”

  Alex’s eyes glittered with amusement. “I wasn’t aware I needed a reason to buy my wife roses.”

  “Oh,” Sarah said, suddenly understanding his gesture and feeling a bit deflat
ed. “You bought them to make people believe we really are married.” She forced her smile. “That was smart. Did anyone see you carrying them to your truck?”

  “That’s not why I bought them, Sarah.”

  “No?” She darted a glance at the beautiful roses, her mind turning a mile a minute, then bunched her apron in her hands and looked back at Alex. “You didn’t have to buy me flowers to get me to stay,” she softly told him. “I’ve already decided to stay until spring.”

  Alex just stared at her. Was he surprised that she had seen through his gesture so easily? No, he looked…disappointed. Maybe even hurt. He just kept looking at her with those lake-blue eyes of his, and for the life of her, Sarah couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  He suddenly turned and opened the door, then looked over his shoulder. “The only reason I bought you roses, Sarah, was because I wanted to,” he said softly, quietly closing the door behind him.

  Sarah clutched her apron to her chest and stared at the door. She had hurt his feelings. Instead of trying to dissect his gesture, she should have just said thank you.

  But nobody had ever given her flowers before. She hadn’t even gotten a corsage for her senior prom, because she hadn’t gone to it—because she’d been getting married to Roland that weekend. Come to think of it, she hadn’t even had a wedding bouquet. So how was she supposed to know how to react to Alex bringing her a dozen roses?

  “You thank the man, dummy,” she said with a groan, closing her eyes. “And you let him know how much you appreciate his gesture by…by…”

  Dammit, how was she supposed to show her appreciation?

  On TV and in her romance novels, women usually gave the guy a kiss. “Uh-uh,” Sarah muttered, shaking her head. She wasn’t going there. If she started kissing Alex, she might not stop for ten or twenty minutes. Maybe thirty.