WIFE FOR HIRE

by Amy J. Fetzer

  "Calm down, Hayley."

  "Calm down?" she said into the phone. "I swear, Kat, if I was there, I'd—"

  "Beat me senseless about the head and shoulders?"

  Hayley's lips curved in a smile and she sighed. "Yeah. But that would ruin your hairdo." She sank onto the bed, rubbing her forehead. "How could you do this to me?"

  "Sugah, it was fate, I swear it. He called and you were next on the list, available."

  "Didn't you consider the position you put me in?"

  "You can handle him. You're a strong woman, Hayley."

  "And his former lover."

  "It would have been rude to mention that."

  "He doesn't want me here."

  "How do you know that?"

  Hayley scoffed. "I'm a bad penny turning up, Kat, and the fact that I'm inches from residency is just one reminder of why we split."

  "And Michelle didn't have a thing to do with it, right?"

  Hayley didn't want to talk about Michelle. She was dead, part of the past, unchangeable. No one, not even Kat, knew the details of Nash's marriage. It was as if he'd shut out the world then. And it was too painful a subject to approach, especially with Nash. "Michelle didn't tackle him till he and I argued. Besides, she had all the right qualities, obviously, and—"

  "That's bunk."

  "—it wouldn't have worked," Hayley said as if Kat hadn't spoken. "He wanted a wife and mother. I wanted a career. I still want that. Besides, I don't have time."

  "You have two weeks."

  Hayley didn't bother to comment on that.

  "Fine, be that way." Kat paused and then said, "So, how's he look?"

  Smiling at the purely feminine interest in Kat's voice, Hayley shook her head and flopped back onto the pillows. "Well, you know how fine wine gets with age."

  "Oh, lawd, he must be devastating."

  "An understatement." Wealthy, commanding, handsome, strong-willed and, as she recalled, a great kisser. What more could a girl ask for?

  Kat's voice broke back into her thoughts. "His daughters?"

  She smiled. "Beautiful. Sweet, well behaved."

  "You're falling in love with them."

  "Anyone with a heart would."

  "And their daddy?"

  "That is a dead subject, Kat. But…"

  Kat jumped on her hesitation. "But what?"

  "Nothing … it's nothing."

  "Dag-gummit, Hayley Ann!"

  Hayley smiled. Let her stew, she thought. Kat deserves to be left out in the cold. Not that there was anything to tell. "You know, Katherine, what goes around comes around."

  "Hah! I wish something long-legged and slow talkin' like Nashville Rayburn would come calling around me."

  Nashville. She'd forgotten about that little secret. "Careful what you wish for, you tart."

  "Pest. Always were. Worst little sister I've ever sponsored." The love in Kat's tone was unmistakable.

  Hayley heard voices, and frowning, she walked to her bedroom door and opened it, peering into the hall. It was coming from the girls' quarters upstairs. "I've got to go. I can hear Nash hollering, and he sounds like he's going to bust a vein or something."

  "Well, you just go to him, then, sugah."

  Distracted, Hayley didn't recognize the smugness in Katherine's voice before she cut the line and tossed the phone on the bed.

  Had she, she might not have gone upstairs.

  "Kimberly Grace Rayburn, open this door!"

  "I can't, Daddy!"

  "I promised not to come in, but you promised not to lock the door."

  "We're fine, Daddy. We're not babies."

  "But you're my babies." They just giggled. "I can get it open, you know."

  "No!" the twins wailed.

  Nash sighed, falling back against the wall and rubbing his hand over his face. They'd been at this for ten minutes and he didn't want them bathing without supervision. Why were they so shy around him lately?

  "It's normal."

  He opened his eyes to find Hayley standing nearby, a stack of towels in her arms. "I'm their father," he said.

  "You're a male to them right now and they don't want you to see them naked."

  "But I've seen them every day for five years!" He made a frustrated sound, then said, "They could drown!"

  Hayley stepped close, knocking softly. "Hey, girls, can I come in?"

  There was a bit of discussion in there and Hayley offered Nash a weak smile. Then the door lock clicked. Nash scowled. Hayley stepped inside. Nash started to move in, too, but Hayley waved him back, leaving the door open a discreet crack.

  "What, no bubbles?"

  "Bubbles?" The twins looked at each other and smiled. "Mrs. Winslow never let us have bubbles. She makes us hurry."

  Nash scowled at that and he leaned against the wall, out of sight.

  "Well," Hayley said, settling to the floor and taking up the washcloth and soap, "sometimes it's necessary, but a lady needs to soak in a bathtub of bubbles once in a while. It's a luxury we are allowed."

  "Why?" Nash said from the hall.

  "Because we are females, Nash. It's that time when we paint our toenails, ponder world affairs, pretty gowns, handsome men—" she winked at the girls, shampooing their hair "—soothe broken hearts and plan our futures."

  "Broken hearts" clung to his mind and his throat tightened. Her voice was soft, her Southern accent refined and cultured, like his mom's. "I don't see the point of it," he said. "Get in, get out. Turning into a prune is a waste of time."

  Hayley rolled her eyes and the girls copied her. "That's why you are a man and we are women. You will never understand."

  "A girl thing," he said.

  "Yes. Okay, ladies, time to rinse."

  This was the hard part, Nash thought. Kate was scared to death of getting soap in her eyes. The water ran, but he didn't hear the usual complaints, and he peeked inside the room. Kate had a washcloth pressed tightly over her eyes and Hayley was doing her best to keep it from getting wet. Well, heck, he did that all the time, but got nothing but screams. When Kate was done, Hayley wrapped her head in a towel, then focused on Kim. Nash darted back when they stepped from the tub.

  A few minutes later Kate said, "Okay, Daddy, you can come in now."

  Nudging the door open, he swung around the door frame and smiled. "I knew my babies were under all that dirt." He kissed each twin, then reached for the comb. Kim winced before he even started.

  Standing behind Kate, Hayley cleared her throat. He looked. She worked through the tangles in record time and Nash copied her moves, starting from the bottom in small increments. Kim twisted, looking at him and smiling. While they blow-dried pounds of hair, Nash's gaze kept slipping to Hayley's reflection in the mirror. She looked like the wild redhead he'd fallen in love with, and he'd never allowed himself to imagine her like this, with his daughters. He didn't want to consider how good it felt to have her here. She wasn't staying.

  "You both have such beautiful hair," Hayley said, stroking the brush through Kate's long curls. Nash smiled at Kate's contented expression. She was almost purring.

  The girls thanked her politely. "Daddy thinks we should get it cut."

  Her gaze slid to Nash's. "That might not be such a bad idea, just for the summer. It is hot." His shoulders drooped a little and Hayley could tell he was relieved by the suggestion. "Think about it. We can look at magazines for a cut you'd like."

  The girls weren't receptive.

  "Bedtime," Nash said.

  The girls headed to their room, which was most of the upper floor, while Hayley gathered the wet towels. "Thanks, Hayley."

  She straightened, smiling.

  "I would have spent half the night trying to get that bath done, with twice as much mess and a bucket of tears. I'm grateful."

  Warmth spread through her. "No problem."

  "I've been going through girl-panic like that for a week now."

  "Just respect their privacy. Believe me, this is just the start of it." He groaned,
reaching to help clean up, but she stayed his hand. "I have it. Go to your daughters."

  He nodded, then walked into the bedroom and settled the girls into bed. He was at a disadvantage, just being male, and he realized how much his daughters enjoyed a younger more sympathetic female than Mrs. Winslow in the house. Mrs. Winslow was always ready to go home about this time of night, he recalled, and now he wondered if she was really ill or just tired.

  Hayley stepped into the bedroom half an hour later and found Nash asleep in the chair between the twin beds, a storybook on his chest and his hands clasped around each of his daughters'. The tender scene stabbed through her with a longing so keen her breath snagged in her chest. Oh, to be loved and needed like this, she thought. To have a home and family. Nash was trying hard to be both father and mother and make a living at the same time, and she thought of how hard it must have been for her own father, raising her alone. She glanced around the room, just now noticing that, while there were several framed photos of Nash and the girls and other relatives, there were none of Michelle. None anywhere else in the house, either. Nor had the girls mentioned her. Not once. But then, Hayley thought, she rarely spoke of her own mother, her memories too faint to recall. Kim and Kate probably had no recollection of their mother. Since Michelle had died when they were infants, they'd never known her and really had no concept of her. Was that why there were no pictures?

  Hayley moved to Nash, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. He stirred.

  "You're going to regret it in the morning if you sleep in that chair all night," she whispered close to his ear.

  His lips curved softly, his eyes still closed. "You still have the sweetest voice, Hayley."

  "Say that when I get hopping mad."

  His forehead wrinkled for a second. He'd never seen her mad. Not even hurt, really. He'd never given her the chance. He opened his eyes. Hayley was covering up his children, tucking their stuffed toys close. Her hand lingered over Kim's hair, and his throat tightened at the sight. Her expression was incredibly tender, and Nash thought of how easily Hayley gave, as if she'd known his girls for years.

  He looked at his babies. How could their mother have walked away without a backward glance? The memory tormented him at times like this, when he knew his girls were missing a mother. He reminded himself that Hayley was temporary. And he didn't want his daughters to get so attached to her they'd be hurt when she left. But with Hayley, he thought, as she whispered good-night and swept past him, well, it was just plain hard to keep "temporary" in his mind.

  Nash stayed in his office most of the next day, working on bids for the coming auction. The house was surprisingly quiet, and though he made progress in his work, the lack of activity and his curiosity forced him out. The house was immaculate, and something heavenly simmered on the stove. He sampled a taste of the stew, nearly burning his tongue. He called out. No answer. And he realized just how big this house was when he was alone. A rare occurrence, he knew. Grabbing his hat and striding to the front door, he flung it open and stepped onto the porch. He spied Hayley out by her car, then trotted down the steps and crossed the driveway.

  With his daughters playing close by, she was bent under the open hood of her car, grease on one bare thigh.

  Nash peered under the hood. "Good Lord, is that a pair of panty hose for a fan belt?"

  She jerked upright, knocking her head into his chin. "Ow, yes, it is." She rubbed her head. "A girl has to make do when she's alone on a dark country road."

  "All the more reason to get a better car. This thing is falling apart."

  "Not quite yet." She leaned back under the hood to adjust the panty-hose belt. "Besides, Lurlene just needs a rest, dontcha, baby?" She patted the fender. "Can you hand me the torque wrench?" She waved at the toolbox behind her. He pushed the wrench into her hand.

  "Why are you fixing this now?" he asked when she straightened.

  "The girls and I are going to the market to pick up some household stuff."

  His features tightened. "You're not taking my children anywhere in that pile of junk!"

  "Shh." She covered up a headlight as if covering ears. "Insults won't make Lurlene your friend, Nash."

  His lips twitched. Hayley always did have a great sense of humor.

  "So what do you propose I do?" she asked.

  He folded his arms over his chest and called for Jimmy Lee. The ranch hand came around the corner of the barn, hopped the fence and strode toward them.

  "Yeah, boss?"

  "Bring the sedan around for Miss Albright, will you?"

  "Sedan?" Hayley said, looking for one in the yard. There were half a dozen trucks, flatbeds, and five horse trailers neatly lined up behind the breeding barn, but no sedan.

  "Want me to drive her?" Jimmy asked.

  Nash glared. The man was eyeballing Hayley's bare legs and cropped T-shirt as if she were spicy barbecue on a summer night. "No, I do not. She's capable of driving herself and the twins."

  "You trust me with the girls?" Hayley asked.

  He met her gaze. "Of course," he said as if she was foolish to ask.

  She smiled, a bright burst of light in dimples and dark-brown eyes. It hit him like a punch to the gut and rocked him to his boot heels. He could get used to seeing that every day, he thought as she took off like a shot, as usual, to the house to change her clothes. Someone ought to tie her down. But he was afraid if someone did, her impatient energy would drill a hole straight to China.

  Two hours later Hayley drove back up the long gravel lane in his sedan. A Mercedes sedan, she thought, running her hand over the leather-covered steering wheel. The corporate car, he'd called it. It looked as if it had never been used. Even smelled new—and expensive. But then, he could afford to be extravagant. Before she and the twins had left, he'd told her to charge all she needed on his credit line, and anyone else might have been tempted to go hog-wild. But Hayley had pinched pennies for too long to go loose now.

  She frowned when she pulled into the spot nearest the house and realized her car was missing. Climbing out, she shooed the girls inside and went to the trunk for the groceries. She had two sacks in her arms when Nash, on a beautiful chestnut stallion, rode down from the hill. He stopped on the edge of the driveway, and she tried not to notice how sexy he looked.

  "Where's my car?" she asked.

  "I had it towed."

  Her gaze narrowed and she cocked her head. "Excuse me?"

  "It's a piece of junk and dangerous, Hayley."

  "And it's my piece of junk, not yours."

  "If you're worried about your things, I had them delivered to your room."

  How good of His Lordship, she thought. "It's my car, Nash."

  His brow knitted. "Lurlene is held together with tape, panty hose and gum, darlin'. Give her a decent burial and get another."

  "If I could afford one, don't you think I would be driving it?"

  "I'll buy you one, then."

  Instantly she dumped the bags back in the trunk.

  "Get down off that horse so I can yell at you right proper." She pointed to the ground in case he misunderstood.

  Smothering a smile, he swung down, tugging the fingers of his gloves as he walked closer.

  She was in his face. "I don't need your charity, Nash Rayburn. And I resent the hell out of you taking charge of my car."

  "If you want it back, I'll just make a call."

  Her anger withered a bit. "Yes, I do. You do that. Right now."

  He nudged his hat back. "I was only trying to help."

  "You were manipulating. Doing what you damn well please because you have the money. Here's a novel approach," she said, wide-eyed and sarcastic. "How about asking me how I feel?"

  "You would have said no."

  "But you went ahead, pretty as you please."

  "I can't have you driving that thing."

  His superior look made her want to kick him. "Why? An embarrassment to you?"

  "No, dammit, you could get hurt."

 
; She held his gaze steadily, yet her voice wavered. "Any more than I already have been shouldn't matter to you, Nash."

  She turned away and grabbed the grocery bags, sidestepping out of his reach when he tried to help.

  "Hayley!"

  "Don't talk to me till Lurlene is sitting next your stuck-up sedan!"

  She didn't talk to him. She wouldn't even acknowledge him at dinner until the tow truck pulled away. And then she just gave him a "Don't try that again or you'll be sorry" glare and headed into the house, his five-year-old traitors tucked by her side.

  He looked at the rusted blue two-door coupe. Then he kicked it. The bumper fell off the back.

  "I saw that!" came a voice from the house, and Nash had to smile. Having Hayley Albright around certainly made life interesting. Again.

  * * *

  Three

  « ^ »

  He'd been fine.

  Just damn fine, controlling his desire for her, avoiding her when he wanted to touch her so badly. Until he'd walked around the back of the house, purely by chance to look for his misplaced pocket knife, and saw her naked.

  Well, almost naked.

  Bare-chested, Nash slammed the ax into the wood, its splintering crack vibrating over the hillside.

  She might as well have been naked for all the skin that bathing suit hid.

  He kept his back to the house and put another log on the stump, bringing the ax down again. Then another and another, until the waistband of his jeans was drenched with sweat. It didn't do a damn thing for the unsatisfied desire running heavily through his blood.

  He split another log, then threw down the ax, and stacked the wood for curing till winter. He didn't look toward the house or the pool deck. Because she was there. In a hot pink bikini. Tonga style. He closed his eyes and briefly shook his head. He was in real danger and hoped the ranch hands didn't get a look at all that flesh.

  She'd cause a stampede.

  He added another split log to the seven-foot-high stack, then swept up the ax again. The blow sent two halves flying outward.

  "Hi."

  Head bowed, Nash propped the ax head on the stump, his wrist on the handle top. He didn't turn around. "Hi yourself."