Daddy By Design? & Her Perfect Wife
Page 33
Good plan, she congratulated herself as she returned to the trauma room and prepped her patient to go upstairs.
Maybe she could convince Jack to give their marriage another shot if she signaled her willingness to renegotiate terms and responsibilities.
How?
Hmm. Perhaps she ought to consult some experts with more experience in the ways of men and the wiles of women. Mel had a feeling she’d need all the wiles she could get.
ABOVE THE TELEVISION’S soothing noise, Jack heard his sister on the phone. Again.
That’s all she’d done since he got here. Talk. To him. About him. Mostly bashing him for walking out on his marriage.
He was supposed to stay when Mel didn’t want him?
“Nope, other than run Rent-a-Spouse, he’s still just imitating a large houseplant. Eat, mope, sleep. That’s it.”
It’s Sherry, she mouthed when he looked up from the TV; he’d apparently been watching a documentary about termites.
Jack shook his head. He didn’t want to talk to bright, brittle Sherry. Or to ol’ Bob except about the business. Or even to Tess, who’d inexplicably chosen his darkest hour to become cheerful and outgoing again.
“Yes, I think so, too,” Tess told Sher.
Since nobody was asking him a direct question, Jack’s attention drifted to its usual subject: Melinda. Why hadn’t she listened to him?
I should have dragged Mel upstairs and loved her into listening to me. Loved her till she believed me.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get him there.” Tess again.
Now what? Jack wondered when she hung up and struck a confrontation pose: hands on hips, feet apart.
“Come on, bro, snap out of it. You’ve been in my hair—er, here two weeks. Time to get on with your life!
“This brainchild of yours,” Tess went on, “is turning into a huge success. So huge, in fact, that if you pass that CFP test and get even halfway busy with financial planning, I’m going to have to quit my other job to help you out.”
“You’d do that?” A faint shock rippled through him. He’d always been big brother the caretaker. When had the tables turned?
“Sure,” Tess said, then lifted her chin. “And it looks like sooner rather than later. We need more Spouses already,” she declared, and before Jack could even finish a nod, she extended an index finger in his direction. “Sherry knows someone who’d be a real asset to the business.”
“So hire ’em.” Jack sighed. He should be happy Rent-a-Spouse had taken off, but no matter how busy he stayed, he also stayed miserable. Without Mel, nothing mattered. Not one thing.
“No,” Tess said with a firm headshake. “Your business, you hire.” She punched his upper arm. “Sherry’s setting up an interview for tomorrow.”
Whenever. Time no longer mattered. He’d lost Mel two weeks ago, but it’d take more like two hundred years to get over her. To stop remembering the feel of her silky chocolate hair sliding over his skin. To stop hearing her velvety voice breathing his name. To stop reliving her heat and tightness surrounding him.
“I’m sorry.” Jack gazed up at his sister. “I’m sorry I tried to rush you past your grief. I didn’t understand. Now I do.”
Tess patted the top of his head. “Bygones, bro. I appreciated the concern behind your insensitivity. Now be sure to look nice tomorrow.”
Why? Oh. Jack sighed. “Better write down the time and address.”
WEIRD, HE THOUGHT the next day as he confirmed the address against Tess’s slip of paper. The Mansion on Turtle Creek—Dallas’s preeminent luxury hotel? One of the housekeeping staff must need extra money.
His sister’s instructions said to give his name to the desk clerk. When he did, the guy smirked.
“Welcome, Mr. Halloran. You’re in the Presidential Terrace Suite.” The clerk smirked harder as he handed over a key card. “Your party’s waiting for you.”
Jack’s heart pounded in his chest. Sherry was his best friend; Tess his sister. They couldn’t, they wouldn’t be this cruel. “H-how do I get there?”
“Ninth floor, follow the signs.”
He took off for the elevator bank at a dead run. Leaping into an empty car, he punched the requisite button. And started praying before the doors closed.
Please let her be there. Let it be okay. Let it be forever.
MEL PACED the huge suite, oblivious to its size, its color scheme or its opulence. All she could think about was the gamble she was taking with her heart, her happiness, her whole future.
Okay, surgeons are bold, she told herself, but what if Jack—provided he even showed—just laughed his posterior off, then retreated as fast as humanly possible?
Maybe she should retreat from the extreme position she’d taken.
Get dressed, at least.
She shook her head and lifted her chin. No. She had to give Jack a clear message of what she was prepared to do if he’d come back. And stay. That’s wh—
Mel froze in mid-thought and mid-pace as the door to the suite flew open.
And there stood Jack. God, he looked good! His hair disheveled, his jaw stubble covered, his khakis rumpled.
His eyes the color of the midnight sky. Glowing hotter by the second. With what?
Time to find out. Clearing her throat, Mel began her prepared speech. “H-hi. I asked you here—”
“What are you doing—?” Jack’s hoarse voice interrupted her. He extended a shaking index finger in her direction, moved it up and down. “—in that?”
Reflexively Mel’s hands touched the ruffled edge of the gauze-thin French maid’s apron she’d rented from a costume shop. It and a couple of pieces of her sexiest pink underwear were all she wore. And a pair of skyscraper-high heels.
“Applying for a job.” Here came the tough part, but nothing was tougher than living without the man she loved. “As your wife.”
“You—”
Mel held up her hand, palm out. “Let me finish.” Reaching behind her, she began untying the apron. “Now, my résumé isn’t very strong in some of the traditional wife areas.” She removed the apron. Her hands went to her bra closure. “But I’m highly motivated. In fact, I’m making arrangements to join a well-baby practice so I’ll be able to spend more time at home. With you. And I’ll do my best to acquire the necessary skills to become the wife you want.”
Jack was tearing off his clothes. “Melinda, darlin’, I’ll be happy if you’re happy. We don’t have to spend every minute of the rest of our lives together, as long as we spend every minute we’ve got left loving each other.
“So let’s throw out the role rules and just figure out who does what as we go along.” He picked her up and carried her into the suite’s bedroom, to the huge canopied bed.
“You already are my perfect wife,” he told her between hot, tender kisses, “just the way you are, as long as you love me the way I love you.”
“Which is?” Mel asked, when he’d lowered her onto the bed.
“Totally, completely, forever,” Jack said as he followed her down.
“That’s exactly how I love you,” Mel assured him happily.
Jack covered her mouth with his for a long, satisfying moment, then he promised, “I’ll do my best, darling, to be your perfect husband, too.”
Mel grinned as her hands reached for him. “Maybe I’d better review your qualifications for the, ah, position,” she purred.
They quit talking then. After all, they’d have a lifetime together for things like that.
Now…ah, now they compared résumés, made and accepted partnership offers and signed up for a permanent, full-time, forever benefit package called love.
HARLEQUIN DUETS
ISBN: 978-1-4603-7476-4
Copyright in the collection:
Copyright © 2002 by Harlequin Books S.A.
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DADDY BY DESIGN?
Copyright © 2002 by Cheryl Anne Porter
HER PERFECT WIFE
Copyright © 2002 by Catherine Hudgins
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