Husband For Hire

by Michele Bardsle

  His hands trembled against her calves. She saw sweat trickle down his neck, and the anxious set of his shoulders. She suddenly realized how much control Alex was exercising on her behalf. It should scare her, yet it made her feel powerful instead. He wanted her, but would do nothing unless she asked. Before she could decide if she needed her thighs massaged, Alex rose and offered his hand. His grin was a bit strained and...she looked down, so were his jeans. The bulge was back, she thought ruefully, and bigger than ever.

  "I want you, Maggie," Alex said.

  A question lit his gaze. He wanted to know the next step. How was she supposed to respond?Take me now, lover boy? She grasped his hand and he pulled her up, catching her around the waist, and taking the pressure off her ankle. She stared at him, trying to sort through the heated messages sent by her body and the sensible ones sent by her head.

  Hadn’t she misjudged Harrison? She had to be sure of Alex--and sure of herself. She couldn’t allow herself to be blinded by her own longings. Hadn’t she almost married a cheating louse because she believed in the dream of love? Would she have walked down the aisle with Harrison if he hadn’t left her at the altar?

  The thought stopped her cold.

  "Alex, I think we should talk about--"

  A faint sound interrupted her. Maggie looked down at Alex’s jeans. The sound was emanating from his lower region. "Your pants are ringing."

  "Damn it."

  Alex released her, lowering her to the porch swing, then digging into his back pocket for a credit card sized cellular phone. She stared at it, then his embarrassed expression, before he answered the phone.

  He said, "What?" Then, "I’ll call you back later." He clicked off and shoved the phone into his back pocket.

  "Let me guess," said Maggie, crossing her arms. "Your rich friend lent you his cell phone, right?"

  "Yeah. Something like that."

  "He does you a lot of favors, Alex. What do you do for him?"

  He shrugged, clearly unwilling to talk about his mysterious friend. "It’s not something I can discuss."

  Alarm skittered through Maggie. "You’d tell me if whatever-it-is was illegal, wouldn’t you?"

  He laughed. "It’s not illegal. It’s just too complicated to explain." He rubbed his jaw. "I have some errands I need to run and I better check out the list your grandmother left me."

  Maggie’s yo-yoing emotions spun to an halt. He obviously didn’t want to spend the evening with her. Not that she’d made any plans to spend the evening withhim . She’d just thought...what did it matter? Hurt settled like a hard lump in her stomach. Maggie rose. "I have things to do, too."

  "I’ll see you later," he said, brushing a wayward curl from her shoulder. She shivered at the light touch, then straightened.

  "Good night, Alex." With as much dignity as possible, she limped into the house, pretending she hadn’t seen the flash of guilt in his eyes.

  ***

  The next afternoon, Alex entered the back door of the kitchen, grateful for the blast of air-conditioned air. He stripped off his shirt and wiped his face. Cleaning the gutters had taken two hours, but the hard work had gotten him out of the surly mood he’d been in since this morning. Grabbing a can of soda, he leaned against the counter and drank it down, grateful for its cool sweetness.

  Without a task to occupy his thoughts, Alex found himself once again thinking about Maggie. Taking her to Clarisse’s restaurant had been pure ego on his part. He’d wanted to impress her, instead he’d encouraged her suspicions. And then the damn cell phone had rang.

  Alex put his shirt on the kitchen counter and thought about Maggie’s reaction. She seemed willing to believe he had a rich friend who conveniently provided luxuries. But this deception battered his conscience. His short stay here had already given him an idea for a useful product. No more Kookie Kutters or Scoop-de-Loops.

  There was no reason to keep lying. He’d tell Maggie the truth today. Yes, he’d just go to Maggie and say, "I’m a wealthy businessman pretending to be a handyman so I can come up with a good idea to help the elderly."

  It sounded too stupid to be true.

  Alex finished the drink and put the can in the recycling bin under the sink. The phone rang and he automatically answered it, then wondered if he should have. "Hi bro!"

  "Simon! Why are you calling me here?"

  "Because your cell phone is turned off."

  "What’s wrong?"

  "Nothing. Danielle wanted me to check up on you."

  ***

  Gran had called late last night with the hotel’s phone number and had cut the call short to "slam some slots." This morning, Maggie had felt too edgy to look at the classified ads. Not one interview had merited a job offer. Rejection, in any form, sucked. And she’d gotten a lot of it lately. Point in fact: Alex had opted to finish painting the shutters last night rather than spend another moment in her company.

  Maggie decided the only way to relax was to sketch. She changed clothes, put her hair in a ponytail, and escaped to her basement studio. The cool, musty air, filled with the scents of ink and paint, greeted her like an old friend. She sat at the desk, smoothed out a sheet of clean paper, and began to draw.

  After a few hours, her stomach’s growls of hunger broke through her concentration. Maggie stretched, working the kinks out of her neck and shoulders. Despite her desire not to, she had sketched Alex. Glancing at the clock perched on the table behind her, she grimaced. She’d been holed up forever. And she was starving. She emerged from the basement, blinking at the blaring sunshine streaming through the front door’s picture window. Maggie rounded the corner, going down the hallway toward the kitchen. She heard Alex’s voice, and for some reason, found herself slowing until she hovered just beyond the entrance to the kitchen.

  "I can’t go to the opening. No, that wouldn’t be a good move. She already thinks I’m up to something and I can’t give her another reason to be suspicious."

  Maggie sagged against the wall as her heart dropped into her toes. Alex had been up to something all along. But what?

  "I know what I said. I’ll take care of it. Look, don’t call me here again. Yeah, okay. Bye."

  Grabbing the doorjamb to steady herself, Maggie made enough noise to attract Alex’s attention. He’d just replaced the receiver and she saw him hesitate, the muscles in his bare back tensing before he turned, a half-smile on his lips. He appeared casual, but he couldn’t maintain eye contact. His gaze found an invisible speck of dirt on his jeans. Maggie spotted his T-shirt on the kitchen counter. Alex’s magnificent chest beckoned her gaze, but she resisted the temptation.

  Almost.

  He wasn’t even trying to explain. Did he think she was naive? Or maybe he thought she hadn’t overheard the phone conversation. Maybe he didn’t care.

  Maggie’s lips trembled despite her efforts to remain calm. She didn’t want to over-react. After all, he could have been talking about...she stopped. She was doing it again. Hadn’t she created excuse after excuse for Harrison’s behavior? And now she was trying to justify Alex’s.

  She straightened her shoulders and waited for Alex to look at her. When his guilty blue gaze finally met hers, she said, "You‘re fired."

  * * *

  Chapter Seven

  "You can’t fire me," said Alex.

  Maggie watched as he put on his shirt. Darn his muscled chest. She couldn’t stop staring at it. He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. She put her hands on her hips. "I can fire you. You’re fired. See? Easy."

  Alex shook his head. "Even if you could fire me, why would you? For a phone infraction?"

  "You can use the phone. It’s the lying, cheating, and--and stealing I object to."

  "What did I steal?"

  My affections, she wanted to shout,just like you wanted . And she noticed he’d left out lying and cheating.

  "I heard what you were saying, Alex. So don’t make excuses."

  Alex’s half-grin disappeared. He stepped forward, his b
rows creasing as he invaded her personal space. Maggie stepped back, her heart hammering in her chest, and swallowed the uneasiness creeping up her throat. "So tell me what you think you heard."

  "You were plotting something. Something you don’t want me to know about."

  Alex leaned down. "You’re right, you know. I am plotting something." His voice was soft, almost caressing. "Do you want to know what my diabolical scheme is?"

  "Y-yes." She felt a little weak in the knees. She backed up another step and hit the wall. Straightening, she placed her hands on his chest to stop his encroachment. He moved closer and her hands slid down to rest against his abdomen. As he lowered his head, his breath brushed her

  cheek.

  "I was planning...our first date."

  "Wh--"

  His mouth captured the word still hovering on her lips. Heat poured through her, killing the protests lodged in her throat. Desire. Want. Need. Her body refused to listen to common sense and instantly caved to the slow, sweet assault of Alex’s kiss. He devastated her senses with a mere touch. Hell, a mere thought...because she easily imagined them together, naked, enjoying all sorts of wicked delights. She wanted him to touch her--everywhere. And she wanted to explore every part of him. Her hands crept up his chest and around his neck. She pulled him closer and deepened the kiss, wanting, more than anything, the feel of his bare skin against hers.

  She wanted to make love with Alex.

  Maggie broke the kiss, putting her fingers against Alex’s lips when he tried to capture her mouth again. "Wait."

  He grazed her cheek with his thumb. "I guess we got carried away."

  "That night in the park you said we couldn’t be friends. You said we were going to make love. But I can’t, Alex."

  "Did you love him that much?"

  Maggie blinked. "Him?"

  "Your fiancé."

  "No. Yes. It’s difficult to explain." She ducked Alex’s sympathetic embrace and his too-knowing gaze. Harrison’s actions had humiliated her. He’d left her at the altar. Worse, he’d stolen her dreams of a family and home. But her heart had somehow remained intact. If it hadn’t, then why did she feel the way she did about Alex? How could she so easily imagine herself in bed with Alex if she’d been in love with Harrison?

  "I’m confused. Nothing makes sense."

  "Look, Maggie, we’re both a little wary of what’s going on between us. I’ll back off if that’s what you want."

  Maggie felt like a giant fist squeezed her insides. "What about our date?"

  He stepped back and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I’d like to take you out. But you don’t seem sure about us. I have a difficult time keeping my hands off you. And there’s something you need to know." He looked away and Maggie saw his jaw tense. "I have go out for awhile, but when I get back, we’ll talk, okay? About everything."

  "I have to go out tonight, too." she replied. If he could play it cool, so could she. "Maybe we can talk tomorrow."

  "Okay. We’ll talk tomorrow."

  They stared at each other. Maggie wanted to say Something to change what had just happened. But the moment had been lost. She felt miserable.

  "I’ll see you later, okay?" said Alex.

  Maggie nodded, then watched as Alex turned and walked out of the kitchen. She heard his steps on the back porch, then the screen door screeched open and banged shut. The urge to cry almost overwhelmed her. Maybe she should have given in and made love with Alex. Maybe she needed one night of hot, wild sex to stop feeling so achy and unhappy.

  Yeah. And then what?

  Maggie left the kitchen and went upstairs. She needed to get ready. After all, she’d told Alex she had plans.

  Several hours later, Maggie inserted the key into the back door’s rusted lock. She never entered the house this way and the darn lock knew it. The lock resisted the key even though it should’ve been a perfect fit. Sort of like her and Alex. She resisted him...and what if they were a

  perfect fit? Jamming the key into the hole, she turned it and opened the door.

  The lights in Alex’s garage apartment weren’t on and his truck wasn’t parked in the driveway. She wondered where he’d gone. Okay, okay, she admitted to herself, the real

  reason she’d come through the back door was to see if Alex was home.

  Maggie flipped on the kitchen light and tossed her keys onto the counter. She’d hadn’t planned to go out. She had to follow through after she blurted out the lie. So, she’d gone to the movies and watched a three-hanky romance. The answering machine’s blinking red light caught her attention. She pressed the "play" button. A man’s deep, smooth voice invaded the quiet kitchen. "Ms. Conrad, I’d like to set up an interview with you. Please call me at the following number ..."

  Maggie grabbed a pen from a nearby drawer and jotted down the phone number. The voice sounded vaguely familiar and the company--Convenience Unlimited--was a local well-

  known business. She didn’t remember applying for a position with Convenience Unlimited, but she’d sent out a lot of resumes. Or maybe a colleague had passed along her name. She re-played the message and double-checked the information, then erased it.

  Maybe things were looking up.

  ***

  Alex waited on the front porch. Maggie had promised to meet him around six o’clock. It was five minutes past. He stroked a petal of the red rose. Should he have gotten a dozen? Did Maggie even like red? Maybe she liked yellow or white or peach better. He needed to find out what she liked and didn’t like. He wanted to spend a lot more time with her. Of course, everything depended on whether or not she forgave him for his deception. Once he confessed his

  identity tonight, he hoped the slate would be wiped clean. They could start over with each other. Take it slow. Develop their relationship. He couldn’t help but wonder if the money and prestige

  would make a difference to her. He knew she’d been counting her pennies while trying to find a job. Even as the cynical side wondered how she’d react to dating a millionaire, he believed Maggie wouldn’t care.

  Glancing at his watch, he frowned. Seven minutes past. Had she changed her mind?

  Her car pulled into the driveway. Maggie got out. She carried her portfolio as she hurried to the front porch. Her eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed, and her smile was more carefree than he’d ever seen. Would she look like that after they made love?

  "Alex! Hi. Sorry I’m late."

  Alex looked at her simple black knee-length dress. Shimmery white hose encased her long, gorgeous legs and black high heels gave her two more inches of height. Her red hair was pulled into a French braid. "You look beautiful, Maggie."

  "Thank you."

  "Are you ready to go?"

  "Like this?" She glanced down at her dress.

  "You can go naked if you like."

  She laughed. "Let me put up my portfolio, then we can leave." She hesitated. "Where are we going?"

  He handed her the rose. "It’s a surprise."

  Forty-five minutes later, they pulled into a paved driveway blocked with high black metal gates. Alex punched in the code and the gates slowly swung open. As they drove onward, the house became visible. Two stories tall, it had adobe walls and a red-tiled roof. The area around the front porch had been landscaped with a desert look: lava rocks, cactuses, and animal statues.

  "It’s gorgeous."

  "My friend likes it a lot."

  Alex drove past, following the paved road. Two minutes later, he turned onto a dirt road that ended at a large pond. He got out and helped Maggie out of the truck. He took her hand and led her to the large willow tree that overlooked the pond.

  "Oh Alex!"

  Alex grinned. The moonlit picnic had been Danielle’s idea. Under the willow tree was a white-and-red checkered cloth. A bottle of wine chilled in a silver bucket next to a large wicker basket. The contents included brie and crackers, strawberries and cream, caviar, an assortment of

  berries, and chocolate. As Maggie sat dow
n, Alex reached into the basket for glasses and plates. He uncorked the wine and poured it while Maggie unloaded the food. They filled their plates and

  ate.

  "Look," said Maggie, pointing to the pond. A graceful white bird coasted into view. "Is that a swan?"

  "Yes. There are a few more, too. Beautiful birds, aren’t they?"

  "Yes.The Ugly Duckling was my favorite fairy tale. I identified with the poor duck."

  Alex put down his plate. "You felt like the duckling?"