HUSBAND BY THE HOUR

by Susan Mallery

  "Karen seems like a good baby," she said.

  "I know." Louise adjusted the burner, turning down the flame. "Jill's going to have her hands full, what with a newborn and the three boys Craig has from his previous marriage."

  A timer went off. Hannah grabbed the pot holders, then walked to the oven and pulled out the bubbling casserole. "She's going to have enough food for several weeks at least. How many dishes are you sending with them?"

  "Five, counting this one." She tapped the pot. "I'm not sure how long they're going to last, though. You haven't seen those three boys eat."

  "Does it bother you to be around all these children?"

  Louise put down the stirring spoon and moved to the kitchen table. She sat down. "You'd think it would, but it really doesn't. I enjoy being with everyone's kids, especially the babies. Sometimes I think about what I gave up."

  Hannah joined her at the table. She cupped her hands around her mug of coffee. "Did you see me after I was born?"

  "Just for a minute. They wouldn't let me hold you. I wanted to, of course." Her blue eyes darkened with the memories. "I think they're afraid the young mothers will bond with their children. Maybe they're right. But I can't imagine I could have missed you any more than I did."

  "You never had other children?"

  "No." Louise shrugged. "I was married for a while. It was a mistake. I think I was looking for someone to fill that empty space inside of me. After a while, I figured out I had to find a way to fill it myself. So we got a divorce. It was friendly enough, I suppose. Then I had Alfred in my life."

  "A boyfriend?"

  "A basset hound."

  Hannah was sipping her coffee when Louise answered and she nearly choked. "A dog?"

  Louise smiled. "We were very close. Alfred passed away a couple of years ago. I still miss him."

  "At least you found Richard to take his place."

  "Oh, Richard is a little more company than a dog."

  "But is he as well trained?"

  They laughed together. Louise leaned back in her chair.

  "I didn't like Richard at first. I thought he was pompous. Then I realized he was actually very shy. I'm just not sure about the age difference."

  "If it were reversed, no one would think anything about it," Hannah said. "If you two are happy, why does it matter?"

  "That's what I keep telling myself. But I have to decide if I believe it or not." She straightened her mouth. "I was very much in love with your father, Hannah. I knew it was wrong. I knew we could never be together. I've spent the past twenty-eight years regretting what I did to his family. Earl deserved what he had coming, but his wife didn't, nor did the boys."

  "Do you think he loved you?"

  "I don't know. He says he did. According to Jordan, the fact that you're female is proof."

  "Do you believe that story?"

  "I want to say I don't, but there have been a lot of girls born lately, and this after so many generations of boys."

  Hannah stared out the window. The garden was bright with flowers. "I don't know what to do about him. Sometimes I think I should get in touch with him and tell him who I am. Other times, I can't face the thought of his rejecting me."

  Louise touched her hand. "I can't promise he'll welcome you with open arms. I don't pretend to understand Earl. But when you're ready to talk to him, I'll do anything I can to help. I'll even call him first, if you'd like."

  "Thank you."

  Hannah was touched by the offer. It would be difficult for Louise to speak to her old lover after all these years. Confessing to a full-grown child wouldn't be easy, either.

  She smiled. "I'm glad you wrote me."

  "I'm glad you came to visit." Louise reached over and squeezed her fingers. "I'd like us to stay in touch."

  "Of course. I was hoping you would come down and stay with me."

  "I'd like that. I'm sure you and Nick have a wonderful place together."

  Hannah stiffened. She'd forgotten it was all just pretend. Maybe it was time to tell the truth.

  "Louise, I have something to tell—"

  A sharp ring cut through the room. Louise stretched out her arm and snagged the phone from the wall.

  "Haynes residence." She listened for a moment, then smiled. "I'm glad you made it safely. Yes, tell Craig I've already made two batches of his favorite kind of chicken. And tuna casserole for the boys. Uh-huh." She covered the mouthpiece. "It's Jill. They made it home safely."

  "Tell her hi from me."

  Louise nodded. "Is she sleeping? Good. Are you sleeping?" She laughed. "Rebecca will take care of you, but I'm afraid you're just going to have to wait the pain out. Try taking a warm bath. Oh, Hannah's here, she says hi." Louise listened, then held out the phone. "She wants to talk to you."

  Hannah stood up and walked around the table. Louise moved to the stove to check on the stew.

  "Hi," Hannah said. "How are you feeling?"

  Jill laughed. "Actually, pretty good. The breast-feeding is strange. I feel like a twenty-four-hour convenience store."

  "Sounds like fun. How's the baby?"

  "Little Karen is doing great. I'm in her room right now and I want to thank you for the lamp. It goes perfectly and it's just…" She sniffed. "Oh, here I go again. Crying my eyes out. I can't stand being this weepy."

  "It's okay. I understand."

  "What are you guys doing?"

  "I'm cooking with my mom. We're making sure you have plenty to eat."

  Jill sighed. "This is the best family, Hannah. No one has ever taken care of me like these people. I love them all. They're so w-wonderful. I can't believe I'm doing this again." Tears thickened her voice. "I'd better go. I'm a wreck. But thanks for the lamp. It's terrific. And come see me before you leave, okay?"

  "I will. Take care." Hannah hung up the phone. She was feeling a little teary-eyed herself. "Jill's a sweetie," she said as she turned toward the stove. She stopped, shocked to see Louise wiping away a tear. "Nick's right," she said. "Hormones are contagious."

  "It's not that," Louise said. "I'm being silly, I know, but when you said you were cooking with your mom, I realized that's me. You called me Mom." She waved her hand in the air. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I understand your adoptive mother will always be your real mother. But it was nice."

  Hannah had to swallow before speaking. "I'd like to call you Mom. I didn't know if you'd want me to."

  "Of course I do." She moved to Hannah and gave her a hug. "You're my daughter and I love you."

  "I love you, too, Mom."

  Hannah squeezed her eyes shut. A mix of emotions flooded her. Sweet, sweet affection tempered by the bitter taste of guilt. She still had to tell her mother the truth about Nick. Just not right now. It would spoil a very special moment.

  Besides, the longer she put it off, the longer he would stay.

  * * *

  Nick looked up when the front door opened. Hannah stepped into the room. She gave him a bright smile, but he saw the evidence of tears.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, springing to his feet. "What happened?"

  "Nothing. Louise and I…" She wiped her face. "We said that we loved each other and I called her Mom. It was very emotional. I guess you had to be there."

  Panic retreated. He squeezed her shoulder. "Way to go, kid. Soon you'll have normal relationships, just like everyone else."

  "Don't hold your breath. I doubt I'll ever be very close to normal, but I'm trying." She walked into the kitchen and pulled a soda out of the refrigerator. "Poor Nick. You didn't expect this when you agreed to help out for a weekend."

  "It's not so bad." He leaned against the entrance to the kitchen. "I never thought I'd see big, bad Hannah Pace in tears because she told her mother she loved her."

  "No one will believe you, so don't even think about spreading rumors."

  He grinned. "You're right. Everyone thinks you're so tough."

  Since the night they'd almost made love and he'd admitted how much he liked seei
ng her hair loose, she'd worn it down. Now the silky brown strands cascaded to the middle of her back. He wanted to bury his fingers in her hair, kiss her until they both forgot to breathe and make love with her. Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

  Whatever happened or didn't happen between them, when she thought of this time, she would remember him. He'd been a part of something good in her life.

  She set the soda on the counter. "I'm not tough, though. How come you figured that one out?"

  "I know your secrets."

  She stared at him. "Why did you bother? There had to be other, more willing women around."

  This conversation had moved a little too close to dangerous territory. He wasn't ready to answer that kind of question. "You were impossible not to tease," he said lightly.

  She didn't smile. She took a step toward him. "A conscious act of seduction, Nick Archer. Why me?"

  Because the moment he'd met her, he'd known instinctively she was hiding because she was afraid. The more he got to know her and saw the sweet person inside, the more he wanted her. He teased her and toyed with her because she wouldn't have accepted anything else. A serious pursuit would have sent her running in the opposite direction.

  "I have this thing for big brown eyes."

  "Good. I have this thing for big blue eyes." She took another step toward him. They were inches apart. "And blond hair. And strength. And guys with great butts."

  He glanced over his shoulder. "You think I have a great butt?"

  "Yeah."

  He saw it in her eyes. The desire he could handle. Everything else scared him to death. His chest tightened as need warred with common sense. They couldn't do this. It would be a big mistake. What if she couldn't walk away when it was over? What if he couldn't?

  But his body didn't cooperate. Need filled him, making it difficult to think. He tried to remind himself that everything about this relationship – including the so-called relationship itself – was a lie.

  But his feelings were real, and that fact scared him to death.

  "Don't look at me like that," he said, his voice low and gruff.

  "I can't help it."

  "It would be a mistake to get involved."

  "We already are."

  "I'm not."

  She placed her hand on his chest. "Liar."

  "Dammit, Hannah, I can't do this."

  She didn't move. She continued to study his face, her sexy mouth curved up in a slight smile.

  "You've got fifteen seconds to get out of here or I won't be responsible for my actions," he growled.

  "I'm shaking," she said. "But it's not from fear."

  He swore, grabbed her upper arms and hauled her against him. "Why the hell can't I resist you?" he asked.

  "Because I don't want you to. Because—"

  She never got the rest of it out. He silenced her with a kiss.

  * * *

  Chapter 13

  « ^ »

  Hannah had been terrified. She'd never deliberately tried to seduce a man before. What if she'd been making a horrible mistake? What if he really didn't want her?

  But at the first brush of his mouth against hers, she knew her fears were unfounded. He wanted her. He needed her. He trembled with desire.

  His lips were warm, his kiss hot and hungry. Before, he had been gentle, almost tentative in his caress. This time, he devoured her, tracing her mouth with his tongue, then plunging inside. Their actions mimicked the act of love to follow. She clung to him, wanting to experience everything with him. Despite the lies, despite who and what he was, she trusted him. Perhaps more than she'd ever trusted anyone in her life.

  He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and waist, pulling her closer. Her breasts flattened against his chest. He was strong and hard to her soft curves. Their legs brushed, the erotic sound of jeans against jeans filling the quiet.

  She rested her hands on his shoulders, then moved them higher to his blond hair. The sleek, silky strands teased her fingertips. He angled his head and kissed her deeper. His tongue circled hers, sending liquid delight pouring through her body. Her thighs were on fire, as if she'd just run ten miles. Her arms were weak, her stomach tight with anticipation.

  He broke the kiss. "I've got to get control," he muttered, his breathing harsh.

  She stared at his handsome face, at the strong cheekbones, the vivid blue eyes, darker now as his pupils dilated with passion.

  "Are you that close to being out of control?" she asked.

  "You have no idea."

  The concept pleased her. She still didn't understand why Nick was doing all this. Why he had come with her, why he was helping her, why he cared even a little. But she was glad. It was only for a short time and it was only pretend, but it was more than she'd ever had in her life.

  Wanting to be sure he really was a man on the edge, she drew one hand over his shoulder and down his chest. His muscles rippled visibly, and when she reached the waistband of his jeans, he flinched, then swore.

  Pure, perfect power filled her. She'd never been sure about her femininity. She was too tall, too physically strong, too determined and stubborn to be what she considered a typical female. Men either ignored her or tried to show her how macho they were. Nick seemed willing to accept her for who she was.

  "You're going to make me cry again," she said.

  "Why?"

  "Because you really want me."

  He brushed his thumb lightly over her mouth. "What the hell do you think all this has been about?"

  "I don't know. I could never decide what you were thinking."

  He drew her close and kissed her neck, then raised his head and drew her earlobe into his mouth. He sucked, then bit down gently on the tender skin. "Now do you know?" he asked.

  "I'm starting to figure it out."

  "Good."

  He took both her hands in his and lifted them to his mouth. After kissing her knuckles, he backed out of the kitchen, still kissing her fingers. She barely noticed as they passed through the living room and into the bedroom.

  He turned her hands palms up and brushed his thumbs over the sensitive skin. When the tingling shot up to her elbows, he bent his head and pressed his mouth to the base of her right thumb. He nibbled the fleshy spot, rose slightly and blew on the damp spot. She shivered in response.

  He moved his mouth to her wrist and kissed the pulse point, went higher still to the sweet spot at the bend of her elbow.

  Her breasts swelled, her knees shook. He held her other hand and touched his mouth to her arm. She could have easily stepped away. She could have stopped him, or demanded more, or any number of things. Yet he held her immobile with sensual magic.

  No one had ever made love to her like this. While Shawn hadn't been the first man in her life, he'd only been the second. She hadn't been involved with anyone else since. She understood the workings of her body; she had found pleasure from time to time. The pattern was simple. Kissing, breast fondling, then "the act." No one had ever made her breathless simply by pressing his lips to her arm.

  Nick raised his head and moved higher, nuzzling her neck, moving along her shoulder, then slipping down her other arm. He'd continued to circle her palm with his thumb, causing the small area of skin to heat and become sensitized. When he touched his tongue to the spot, she wanted to cry out. Her head arched back and every muscle in her body tightened with need. Her breathing came in short, rapid pants.

  She wanted to grab him and demand that he get on with it. She couldn't take much more of this. She wanted to beg him never to stop.

  He straightened and stared into her eyes. "Sweet Hannah."

  Then he buried his fingers in her hair. She closed her eyes and absorbed the sensation. He tugged on the strands, drawing her head back. She went with the movement, arching her torso upward.

  Sharp, exquisite fire cut through her right breast. She gasped and looked down. He held her erect nipple in his teeth. The layers of her shirt and bra, not to mention his gentleness, protec
ted her from anything close to pain. Hot breath added to the sensation. She began to shake.

  She grasped his shoulders, as much to hold on as to hold him in place. He moved his teeth back and forth, withdrew and repeated the procedure on the other breast.

  His hands moved down her back, urging her to offer herself to him. She arched forward, needing more, wondering how it was possible to be so aroused and still have on all her clothing.

  As if he'd read her mind, he slipped his hands lower to her waist, then moved them around to the front. He unfastened the button on her jeans and drew the zipper down. He tugged the jeans over her hips. She parted her legs slightly to help.

  He abandoned her breasts and she nearly cried out in frustration. He knelt in front of her and pulled her jeans to her ankles, then pushed up her T-shirt and pressed his mouth to her belly.

  The feel of his damp mouth on bare skin was her first indication that her panties had been removed with her jeans. She vaguely thought about protesting, but accepted that it was foolish at this point. Then he dipped his tongue into her belly button and she didn't really care what he did.

  Between her legs, need pulsed in time with her heartbeat. She could feel the heat there, the desire making her body swell in anticipation. She couldn't focus on a single rational thought. All that mattered was what she felt, what he was doing to her and where they would soon go together.

  He cupped her bare derriere and squeezed. She grabbed his shoulders to hold on, then moved one hand to stroke his head. He urged her legs apart. She tried to comply, but the jeans around her ankles restricted her. She was trapped and at his mercy. She prayed her surrender would be as wonderful as she imagined.

  He kissed the skin below her belly button, nipped oh so gently on the protective folds around her femininity, then drew them open and pressed his tongue to her center.

  She was unprepared for the sensual assault, for the fire that ripped through her. She nearly lost her balance as her knees buckled. He chuckled softly, his warm breath puffing against her private places.

  She tightened her hold on his shoulders. He was the only stable part of a world that had started to spin.

  Back and forth he flicked against her. Teasing, wet, sweet. She caught the rhythm of his caresses. Her muscles tensed, then relaxed in counterpoint to his attentions.