“You are the one who had the ad?” she asked when he didn’t speak. “Matt?”
“Exactly how old are you?”
“I turned twenty yesterday.”
Matt quirked his eyebrow and stared down at the girl. Just twenty appeared awfully young. So young, in fact, he felt awkward even talking to her. He didn’t want her—or anyone else who might see her here—to get the wrong idea.
He’d never be able to pretend he was happily married to this woman, and that was the whole idea of hiring someone. If he couldn’t pull off the pretense, his father would just pity him either for his choice of wives or for having to lie about his happiness. Matt wouldn’t be able to stand that.
Marcia was looking up at him, and then, suddenly, her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why aren’t you saying anything? You aren’t a prevert, are you?”
“That’s pervert, and of course not.”
“So what’s the play we’re doing?”
“No play. I just needed someone to pose as my wife for an afternoon.” He didn’t see the point of explaining anything beyond that to her, since he’d already decided that she wouldn’t do at all.
Marcia gave him a long, assessing look as she fipped her hair back over her shoulder. “Why did you have to advertise? Somebody who looks like you ought to have women lined up at your door ready to help you out.”
“I’m new in town.” At least he didn’t have to lie.
Her giggle sounded like the high-pitched mew of a hungry kitten. He shook his head. “No offense,” he said, “but I don’t think I can hire you.”
“Men,” she muttered under her breath and turned to go. Remembering how shaky she was on her heels, Matt offered his forearm to help her off his porch and to her car. He didn’t let go of her until she was holding on to the car for balance.
“Thanks,” she said brightly. “I usually live in running shoes. This is just my glamorous image.” Shetugged at her miniskirt.
“I’m sorry this didn’t work out.”
“That’s all right.” She turned to smile at him. “You’re a little over the hill for me, anyway.”
Over the hill? He was only thirty. Before he could reply, he heard the rustling of branches in the shrubs. Glancing past the car, he didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean the bushes didn’t have ears.
“At least you didn’t try anything funny,” Marcia added. “My mother was worried about that.”
Oh, Lord, Gina was going to have a field day with this. But there was nothing he could do. “Tell your mother you’re really safe in this neighborhood,” he said loudly. “Believe me, I can’t get away with a damned thing around here.”
Marcia shot him a strange look and hurriedly slipped into her car. She shut and locked the door, then turned her music back on. Matt stepped back as she gunned the motor and screeched out of his driveway, leaving an impression on the concrete and absolutely none on him.
Shaking his head, Matt stared down at the same hole in the shrubs that Gina had wriggled through when he’d had Frankie in his grip. He caught a glimpse of her face for a second before she pulled back and disappeared from view, and then he heard her soft laughter.
Irritated, yet unable to keep away from her, he strode to the end of his driveway and up the length of hers. Sure enough, she was sitting on her patio reading the newspaper. She was in shorts and a clingy sleeveless knit top. All he could think of was that she had the softest-looking shoulders he’d ever seen—and one of them had a tiny green leaf on it.
He reached over and plucked up the leaf, ignoring the electricity he felt inside when his fingers touched her skin. Static, he told himself. Nothing more. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” he asked, showing her the leaf.
Gina set down her paper and stared at him over her sunglasses, her rosebud mouth curving in a smile that set off sexual impulses inside Matt.
“I would have come over to your house to ask you about your visitor,” she said sweetly, “but you warned me you didn’t want to be disturbed. Or did you forget?”
“Did it ever occur to you that my visitors are none of your business?” He wanted to kiss her, and that irked him.
“Who visits you is my business when somebody blares music that disturbs my peace.” Gina tilted her chin defiantly. “I was just checking to see if I’d have to come over and ask you two to settle down. But your little friend was leaving, so I decided against bothering you.” She slipped off her sunglasses and put them on the table. “Really, Matt, she hardly seems your type.”
“Thank you,” he said gratefully.
Gina frowned. “Is she your sister, then?”
“No.” A look of pain flashed over Matt’s face, bringing Gina to her feet, uncertain at why he should show vulnerability over such a simple question.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Matt. She wasn’t that awful.”
“I only have a brother.” In the next instant, the hurt left his features. “And who she was is none of your business, Gina. Keep your pretty little head out of the bushes, would you?”
“You’re just irritated because now not only are you weird—you’re also over the hill.” The concern on her face changed into a pert, knowing smile.
“Wrong.” With a suddenness that startled them both, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He meant it to be a brief kiss to remind her that she knew’ damn well he wasn’t over the hill, but it turned into something more, something hot and powerful that he wished would last forever. Kissing Gina made him feel on top of the world, as if he could handle anything—even his inner pain over his empty life.
Pulling her more tightly against him, he continued to kiss her. She pressed into him, and he felt himself harden instantly as his fingers wandered under the confines of her top. The intimacy of touching the bare, soft flesh of her back started a throbbing in him that begged for relief, and Matt knew he had to stop now. He was empty, hardened, cold—not the type of man Gina needed.
Stepping back a couple of feet, Matt gazed at her, struggling to recover his wits, but it was hard as he watched her cleavage rise and fall.
“So am I over the hill or not?” he demanded.
“Well…” Gina paused. “Your friend did seem a bit young to make that decision. I’ll have to admit. maybe she wasn’t fully developed yet.”
“I didn’t notice,” he admitted.
“You are getting old.” Gina chuckled.
“I don’t think so. I noticed you were fully developed the second I saw you.”
Gina felt lost in Matt’s gaze. Suspected jail escapee or not, he was a damned seductive man. Not only was he darkly handsome, he knew how to kiss, and he knew how to hold a woman with just the right amount of pressure that left her yearning for more. The feminine part of her was flattered that he seemed to want her so much, but then again, he was turning into such a problem. Now she had to decide if she wanted his attention, and she didn’t know. She just wasn’t certain she needed to get involved with a man who was so…remote.
“If I told you I’m interviewing women to do a job for me, would you stop spying on me?” Matt asked.
“What kind of job?”
“Nothing illegal.”
“Well, you should know the difference,” she muttered, thinking of how he had possibly been in prison.
“What?”
She blushed, a little embarrassed that he’d heard—but not much. “C’mon, Matt. That girl was hardly a gardener or housekeeper type.”
“I don’t want to get into it.”
She shook her head. “Sorry. You’re still mysterious and weird, and this is still my neighborhood. I have to keep it safe. Until I know who you really are and what you’re up to, I’m going to watch out for my friends and neighbors.”
Matt was irritated again. Attracted as he was to Gina physically, he couldn’t think straight when he was around her. And he needed to be able to think about what he was doing. That’d be damned hard, if Gina was going to tag along after him. But what h
e was up to was none of her damned business, and he wasn’t giving in.
“I don’t owe you any explanations,” he said gruffly.
“Then I don’t owe you any concessions,” she shot back. “And don’t kiss me again.”
“Not even if you beg me to.” Turning, he strode away from her.
Gina plopped down in her seat and hugged her arms over her chest, trying to ignore the way her breasts still ached for his touch. This was even worse than before. While Matt had been holding her, all her defenses against him had dissolved like sugar in hot water. He was a lure she couldn’t turn down—she’d wanted him to take control of her, to pick her up and carry her off. She’d felt like a ball of pure sexual energy, ready to explode if he took her to bed.
Never, ever, had she felt like this with Mac, and that frightened her. She didn’t want to feel this kind of attraction to a man who was an escaped criminal at worst and just plain secretive and uncommunicative at best—the type of man she’d never be able to love. What was happening to her?
Slapping the arm of the chair she was in, she leapt to her feet. She’d let Matt be for too long. She had to figure out his secret, and when he was no longer the mystery man, maybe some of his sexual power over her would be gone. At least she hoped so, because there was no future for her with a man like Matt Gallagher.
4
This woman had to work out, Matt thought. The interviewee sitting across from him was practically his last chance, the only call he’d had during all of Thursday. She’d been hesitant on the phone but had turned out to be, so far, perfect, so he’d invited her to dinner to rehearse their stories.
A good thing she seemed promising too, since he’d run out of choices. The woman he’d interviewed after Marcia, upon hearing what the job entailed, had refused to meet with two men in a house alone. There were a lot of crazies in this world, she’d said, and if he thought he was putting one over on her like that, he was one of them. Matt hadn’t tried to change her mind. He’d gotten three calls on Wednesday, but two were again too old. The third had taken one look at him and started hinting that she’d like to bear his children, beginning right away. That, of course, was out. There were a lot of crazies in this world, Matt thought.
At eight in the evening, the restaurant he’d chosen in downtown Bedley Hills wasn’t that busy. Their booth was secluded, separated from the next by bushy potted plants on a head-high shelf. Tisha, a classy-looking blonde with style, ran an at-home business, but also worked odd jobs for extra cash. Well-spoken, she was also an acceptable age. Hoping she would work out, Matt gave her a long, serious look. “I suppose you’re wondering why I need a wife?”
Hidden from view in the next booth, a shocked Gina almost spit out the soda she’d been sipping. She’d been spying on Matt when Tisha—who was so skinny Gina had dubbed her the Blond Breadstick—had shown up at his house. After the two had talked and gotten into separate cars, Gina had followed them and asked the waiter to seat her in this booth behind theirs—so Matt wouldn’t spot her.
Since Matt was just on the other side of the divider, Gina could hear him better than she could Ms. Breadstick, who spoke softly. Matt wanted a wife? A wife! Well, if that didn’t beat all. Was that why he’d kissed her? Had he been secretly auditioning her and she’d failed? But he’d interviewed the redhead and Ms. Breadstick, and he hadn’t kissed them. This didn’t make any sense.
But they were talking again, and Gina concentrated on what Matt was saying.
“My father walked out on my mother, my brother and me when I was ten. We hadn’t heard from him until he wrote to my mother last year. I was in the air force in Germany and just recently was able to get free to contact him.”
Even though a part of Gina immediately melted upon hearing about his father’s deserting him at such a young age, the rest of his story irked her. In the air force! And he’d led her to believe he’d escaped from prison. She should have known Matt had been stringing her along to get her to leave him alone.
She took a sip of soda to calm down, but the longer she listened, the more infuriated she became. The Breadstick had gotten more information from Matt in five minutes than Gina had managed to pull out of him in more than a week and a half. He had thoroughly resisted her charm—while she’d been totally unable to resist his kisses. And she called herself an expert with people!
Her waiter showed up just then with the piece of chocolate cake she’d ordered. Diet or not, she’d had to order the cake. Therapy. She’d heard chocolate produced some chemical that soothed the brain, and, dealing with Matt Gallagher, she figured she needed it, calories or not.
There was a lull in the conversation next to her as the waiter took care of Matt and Tisha.
“Now, where was I?” Matt asked as the waiter left. “Oh, yeah. To prove the point to my father that his leaving hadn’t mattered to me, I got carried away in my description of how well I was doing and mentioned a happy marriage that I don’t have. My story didn’t jibe with what he knew about me, so now I need a wife to show him. I’ve put him off for almost a week, but time’s running out.”
Matt thought Tisha looked puzzled, as though she were trying to recall something. “Your father left your family in Kentucky? And you wound up in foster care?”
He knew he hadn’t told her the last, or where he was from. Not even Mr. Tuttle, his landlord, knew. Nobody did, except for his father, mother and brother…Had she met his brother? His heart stopped beating as he reached over and grabbed her hand. “How did you know that?”
Tisha explained, almost apologetically, “If there’s a chance your father might attend Alcoholics Anonymous meetings here in Bedley Hills, I think I met him there.”
Matt let go of her hand. His father did claim to be a recovering alcoholic. “He very well might.”
“His name is Luke, right?” She waited for his nod. “Now I’m certain. Luke, at AA, told us his story a few weeks back. Everything you’ve said is exactly what he told us. Walking out on his family, losing his two sons, and then finding out only a while ago that you and your brother had grown up in foster care instead of with your mom. Matt, he was so sorry, and so full of regret—” Seeing the look on Matt’s face, she stopped suddenly. “I guess you don’t want to hear this.”
Matt shook his head, not trusting himself to say anything about his father. At least Luke hadn’t been lying about straightening out his life. “So he’s been attending meetings regularly?”
“He first came in October. Every Thursday night that I’ve gone, he’s been there. You get to know the regulars, you know?” she added softly.
Matt nodded. She was a recovering alcoholic. Like his father. He himself had never bothered with drinking, since losing his wits hadn’t ever appealed to him. Besides, he had escaped his past just fine.
“I have a lot of clients over in my city, so I’ve been attending meetings in Bedley Hills to remain as anonymous as possible. Your father would recognize me, Matt.”
Matt sighed, frustration in every joint in his body. “You were my best bet.”
“I am sorry.” Picking up her purse, Tisha rose. “Look, you do what you want—I promise I won’t say anything to your father about any of this. But you seem like a nice man, and so does Luke. Maybe there’s some way you can come together-” She stopped and shook her head at the glare on Matt’s face. “No, I guess not.”
“Thanks for coming,” Matt said evenly.
“You’re welcome.” Tisha looked like she wanted to say more, but with a shrug, she walked off.
How damned unlucky could he get? Matt asked himself. Tisha would have been perfect, and he had, unless he’d been left a message on his answering machine, no other choices—
“She would have been all wrong for you.”
Oh, no. Surely Gina wouldn’t have followed him again. Not here…Slowly turning in his seat, Matt saw his neighbor’s face through the small gaps between the plants.
“You like leaves so much,” he said, not smiling, “maybe you shou
ld take up landscaping.”
“Can’t. I like people more, and there isn’t enough time in the day to tackle everything.” She smiled brightly. “Though I must admit I’m a pretty good gardener—”
He shook his head slowly. “This is clearly just not my day,” he said. “I don’t believe you, Gina.”
“Really, she would have been all wrong—”
“No, I mean I don’t believe you followed me here.” He scowled. “You must have been hell on your brother’s dates.”
“I was an only child.”
“Well, that certainly explains why you like to get your way all the time.” He motioned for her to come around the barrier. He knew why he was giving in to her—he was discouraged, and he didn’t want to be alone just then. Gina was good company. “You may as well join me.”
Gina rounded the corner, a vision in one of those filmy, red-flowered skirts that overlaid a black underskirt, and a close-fitting, dark red tank top that showed every curve of her ample breasts. Prepared for the jolt of attraction he felt, Matt was unprepared for the smile that lit up her face and sent a flood of warmth through him.
She slid into Tisha’s vacated seat just as the waiter returned with drinks, his eyebrow rising in question when he saw Matt’s companion had changed. Once they’d straightened everything out, they were left with Gina’s and Matt’s checks and a couple of glasses of iced tea.
Different companion, same problem, Matt thought, staring at Gina. What was he going to do about a wife? He couldn’t concentrate on the question, with the scent of Gina’s perfume and the sight of the small amount of cleavage showing over her top enticing him.
“Gina, you’ve got to stop following me,” he said, sounding tired even to himself.
“I warned you I was going to become your worst bad dream until I found out what you were up to,” she said.
“Yeah, well, now that you’ve heard everything and know why I’m in Bedley Hills, tell me the nightmare’s over.”
“Nope. It’s just beginning.” The smile left her eyes. “If you would allow me to give you a little advice about marriage, Matt, you don’t exactly have the best reason for entering into one.”
The One-Week Wife Page 5