“You trying to wear a hole in that rug?” he asked as he walked into the room.
“No, just thinking,” she replied. She sank down on the love seat, a touch of uneasiness in her eyes. “Did you see Trent’s brother-in-law’s horses?”
“Some of them.” Hank sat on the edge of the bed. He knew he’d left abruptly with Trent, leaving her to cool her heels here by herself.
But, somehow he felt as if all his disturbing thoughts about marriage and family revolved around the woman who sat facing him. It frightened him.
Since Angela had begun working with him two years ago, not only his business, but his life had run smoothly. She’d taken care of things for him, reminded him of not only business appointments, but personal engagements as well.
He’d had five secretaries in the year before finding Angela. He had a feeling that finding an appropriate wife would be far easier than finding a good secretary. He wasn’t about to jeopardize what he had by acting out on a crazy impulse or giving into the absurd desire for her that struck him at brief intervals.
She looked especially attractive at the moment, wearing a pair of worn, tight jeans that emphasized the length of her legs, and a caramel-colored blouse that perfectly matched the golden brown of her eyes.
“So, what do you want to do before dinner? Or have you made plans to do something else?” She looked at her watch. “We’ve got about an hour and a half.”
“You go ahead and do whatever you want.” Hank stretched out on the bed. “I think I’ll take a little nap.” It was time to regain his distance from her, regain and maintain. He closed his eyes, far too aware of her presence in the room.
“Okay. Then I’ll see you at dinner?”
He grunted a noncommitted reply. He heard her stand, felt her gaze on him as she hesitated. Then he heard her footsteps leading her out of the room.
He sighed in relief, hoping the scent of her perfume went with her rather than remained in the air to agitate him.
Four more days and they would be finished with this crazy week. Four more days and they would go back to Great Falls, back to their positions as boss and secretary.
Surely he could be smart for four days. Surely he could manage to pretend to be her husband, yet keep himself distanced enough so that he wouldn’t jeopardize their future work together.
And for the next two days, Hank did manage to keep his distance. They ate each meal together, laughing and joking with the others. They attended the workshops with Barbara, talking about fears, and dreams and goals. He managed to be cordial and polite as they spent their free time with the other couples.
Hank was pleasant to Angela, played the role of happy husband, yet somehow managed to keep his emotional distance from her.
He could tell she felt his withdrawal from her. He could see questions in her eyes, but he didn’t answer them. What point was there in confessing that he had the hots for his secretary? Especially since he intended to do nothing about his feelings for her.
The only time they touched was in the dead zone of sleep. Every night, despite his resolve to the contrary, their bodies sought the warmth, the tactile pleasure of one another. And every morning they awakened, wrapped in each other’s embrace, and pulled apart as if burned by the contact.
By Saturday afternoon, Hank silently congratulated himself on a job well done. They had fooled not only Brody and Barbara, but all the other couples as well and Hank had managed to put his strange feelings for Angela behind him.
Those moments of desire, the crazy need to kiss her, to hold her, had passed and first thing in the morning they would be back on the road to Great Falls, back to their normal and very separate lives.
He gave Angela a confident smile as they started their last private workshop with Barbara. As they had done all week long, they sat on the plush throw rug in front of the empty fireplace as Barbara sat in a chair some distance away from them.
“I have really enjoyed working with the two of you this past week,” Barbara said. “Next week I’ll be mailing you a short questionnaire. I hope you’ll take the time to tell me what you thought of your experience here, what worked and didn’t work to increase your marital fulfillment.”
“It’s been a wonderful week for us, Barbara,” Angela said. Hank nodded his agreement, as always pleased by Angela’s natural graciousness.
She would make some man a wonderful wife, he thought, fighting a pang of regret. She would be an asset to any man’s life. But, he didn’t want her as his wife. He desperately needed her as his secretary.
“Okay.” Barbara clapped her hands together and smiled. “Today we’re going to experience something fun. It doesn’t take long for married people to take sex for granted. The nights of long caresses, of endless foreplay usually end quickly after the wedding vows are said.”
Hank felt a nervous knot form in his stomach. What did Barbara want them to do? Indulge in intimate foreplay right here in the library... right here in front of her? Surely not. He looked at Angela, saw the anxiety that darkened her eyes. Apparently her thoughts were much like his own.
Barbara laughed. “You should see your faces. Don’t worry, I’m not some voyeur intent on sharing intimate moments with you. On the contrary, I don’t want you touching each other in a sexual manner at all, but I do want you to touch each other.”
“What do you mean? Touch each other?” Hank tried not to radiate the apprehension he felt. Touching Angela, in any way, shape or form, had become an exquisite form of torture. He’d definitely prefer to skip this particular exercise, but there was no way he could tell that to Barbara.
“Okay, Hank. We’ll start with you. I want you to explore Angela’s face with your hands.” Barbara looked at him expectantly.
Hank looked at Angela, wondering if anyone else in the room could hear the thunderous beat of his heart. He didn’t want to touch her...because he wanted desperately to touch her.
He framed her face with his hands, then looked at Barbara. “I’m not sure what you want me to do,” he said.
“Close your eyes. Pretend that the only way you can see her is through your fingertips,” Barbara instructed. “Start with her hair, then work your way down all the features of her face.”
Hank closed his eyes, his fingers working to untie the scarf that held her hair at the nape of her neck. As the scarf came undone, her hair sprang free and he tangled his hands in the length of it.
The silky strands felt wonderfully erotic against his palms, across the back of his hands. He realized he’d dreamed of doing just this... luxuriating in her beautiful hair, ever since he’d seen it loose and flowing around her shoulders on the morning he’d picked her up at her house.
He left her hair and smoothed his fingertips across her forehead, over her perfectly arched eyebrows and down the length of her nose. Her skin was smooth, softer than Hank had ever imagined.
Her cheeks were warm, her lips warmer and when Hank’s fingertips danced lightly across her lips, he opened his eyes and looked at her.
Why had he ever believed her to be plain? Her amber eyes shone with a brilliance that stole his breath away. Long, gold-tipped lashes cast faint shadows as she broke his eye contact with a selfconscious blush.
And then it was her turn to examine his features. Her fingertips were cold and trembled slightly as she stroked across his brow and down his cheeks. When her fingers touched his mouth, he felt the fire that had been simmering in the pit of his stomach burst into flame.
He felt her breath on his face. Warm and sweet, her breaths came a little faster, a little deeper than normal, letting him know that she, too, was affected on some primal level by this exercise of touch.
“Okay,” Barbara’s voice broke the spell. Angela pulled her hands away from him and Hank drew a deep, steadying breath.
“Now your hands,” Barbara said. “I want you to explore each other’s hands.”
Again Hank’s heart pumped erratically in his chest. He wanted out...away from here, away from Angela.
But, instead of jumping up and leaving, instead of making any sort of scene, he reached out for her hands.
Small. Dainty. Hank had never known that hands could be so damned erotic. Her fingers warmed as their hands clasped, reclasped, entangled and enfolded each other.
“I have one last assignment for the two of you,” Barbara said after several moments had passed. Hank released Angela’s hand, grateful for the interruption.
“Tonight, I’d like for the two of you to explore each other’s bodies. I want you to touch and caress everywhere except the usual sexual places. Arms... legs...knees...shoulders...I want you both to realize that making love isn’t just about touching sex organs. Take the time to discover those secret erogenous zones you each have. And that’s it.” Barbara stood.
Hank shot up from the throw rug as if he’d been kicked up from some invisible foot. Angela also rose to her feet, her cheeks flaming a brilliant red that matched the T-shirt she wore.
“I’ll see you both at dinner,” Barbara said. With a nod and a smile, she left the two of them alone in the library.
“Well,” Hank said, forcing a lighthearted smile. “That was certainly intense,” he said.
“A little too intense for me,” Angela said, her gaze not meeting his. “That’s one homework assignment we won’t be completing.”
Remorse shot through Hank. As Angela started to leave the library, he caught her arm. “Angela, I’m sorry. I had no idea what I was getting us into when I hatched this scheme.”
She stepped away from him and shrugged. “It’s all right.”
“Yeah, but you didn’t exactly agree to being pawed by me when you agreed to be my wife.” He searched her face, looking for an indication that she wasn’t angry, that it would be all right. “I need to know that we can put this all behind us when we get back to the office,” he finally said.
“Of course we can,” she said, although her gaze still didn’t meet his.
“Are you sure?”
She finally looked at him, her eyes calm and clear. “There’s no problem, Hank. When we get back to the office, the ring comes off my finger, you go back to being Mr. Riverton, and I get a bonus that makes it all worthwhile.”
Hank felt a curious disappointment at the mention of the bonus, although he had no idea where the disappointment came from. He’d known all along she was going along with the marriage conspiracy for bonus money.
Her smiles, her laughter, even the kiss they’d shared had all been part of a role...a role to help him maintain the Robinson account and win her a big bonus check. The bottom line was that their entire pretend marriage was all about money. For just a moment he’d almost forgotten that fact.
“If you don’t mind, I think I’ll lie down for a little while before dinner. I have a headache,” she said.
Hank smiled. “Our first headache,” he said, trying to find the humor that had guided them through the past five days.
“I guess so,” she agreed, but there was no responding smile, no glint of humor lighting her eyes. Without saying anything else, she turned and left the room.
When she was gone, Hank sank down on one of the chairs, wondering why in the world he felt so low. They’d made it through the week, pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes. He’d retain the Robinson account and when they got back to Great Falls, nothing would be different than it had been before. So, why did he feel so bad?
Angela dressed in her pajamas, grateful that tonight was the very last night she would sleep in a bed with Hank Riverton. Tonight was the last night they would pretend a relationship that didn’t exist, that would never exist.
She was relieved that the experience was almost over, relieved that by this time tomorrow she’d be back in her own bed, at home with her mother and Brian.
Making sure her pajama top was buttoned up, she turned away from the bathroom mirror. She’d been in here long enough that Hank had probably already fallen asleep.
He was probably relieved that the week was almost over, too. The first couple of days they’d been here, the game had been almost fun. Hank had teased and joked with her, they’d talked and she’d learned more about him. Then, he’d clammed up, stopped teasing and grown distant. She didn’t know exactly what had caused his change, but she suspected it was their kiss.
He’d probably withdrawn to make sure she didn’t get any crazy ideas that he cared about her. He’d probably been afraid she’d somehow believe their little game of make-believe, afraid that the poor, little plain secretary would become delusional.
She left the bathroom and went into the bedroom, where Hank appeared to be sound asleep. She shut off the bedside lamp, then crawled onto the bed with her back facing Hank. Every night she clung to her side of the bed as if hanging from a precipice and every night when she fell asleep, she fell into the middle of the bed and Hank’s arms.
The room was silent, except for the sound of their breathing. Angela closed her eyes and tried to still her mind so sleep could overtake her, but her mind refused to be still.
All she could think about was the exercise Barbara had led them through that afternoon. Touching Hank’s face, exploring his handsome features with the tips of her fingers had created a wave of desire inside her...a desire she’d never felt before.
She’d looked into his eyes and had wanted to drown in the midnight-blue depths. For the rest of the day she’d felt as if she were in water over her head, making it difficult to breath, impossible to focus on anything else but Hank.
“Angela?”
His deep voice startled her. For a split second she thought of not answering, of pretending she was asleep.
“Are you asleep?”
“No,” she finally answered and rolled over on her back.
He was on his side, facing her. He braced himself with his elbow and gazed at her, his eyes silvery in the moonlit room. “I’m thinking about buying some land when we get back to Great Falls,” he said. “Nothing major, just enough for a house, a barn and a couple of horses.”
Angela turned over and faced him in surprise. “What about your business?”
“Oh, nothing will change there, except maybe I’ll start working less hours, give myself a little more free time.” He turned over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking in the last couple of days.” He plumped his pillow beneath his head, his gaze thoughtful.
“Thinking about what?” Angela asked.
“The day I watched them auction off our land, our belongings, I swore that I’d work hard enough, get rich enough that nobody would ever take from me again.” He turned back to look at her. “I realize now that I could have lost the Robinson account and the business would have been fine.”
“Are you telling me that this entire week wasn’t really necessary?” she asked.
“For the reasons I originally told you, no.” He was silent for a moment. “But maybe necessary for other reasons. Without this week, I wouldn’t have realized that I’ve been driving myself so hard I’ve lost track of my original goal.”
“And what was your original goal?” Angela asked. Their voices were soft. It felt oddly intimate, lying next to him, whispering together in the darkness of the night.
“Happiness.” Hank drew a deep breath. “When I first started the agency, my plan was to get enough money to buy some land and get a horse like the one I lost. Yes, as soon as we get back, I’m going to buy me a nice ranch house with a couple of acres.” His eyes gleamed with anticipation.
“It should be a house with a big front porch,” Angela said, easily able to envision such a place.
“Yeah...a front porch big enough for a swing or a glider so I can sit and watch the sun set each evening.”
“Or enjoy your first cup of morning coffee as you watch the sunrise,” Angela added.
Hank nodded, a soft smile curving his lips. “The barn has to be a traditional red, and the house will have a white wooden fence around the immediate yard.”
“With flo
wers planted everywhere, blooming at various times of the year.”
“It’s going to be great,” he said.
“Sounds perfect,” she agreed with a touch of wistfulness, wishing it could be their shared dream, instead of just his own. But she had to remember, he wasn’t talking about her sharing in his dreams, in his future.
“Ir’s what I’ve always wanted... what I lost track of. I figured eventually I’d get married, then have some kids. And I’d be successful enough that my children would never know what it was like to lose a home.”
The thought of Hank marrying somebody, setting up a family on a little piece of land, filled Angela with a wistful yearning. “That’s nice, Hank. I hope you reach your goal.” She hoped he didn’t notice that her voice was deeper, fuller than usual.
“If I do, it will be because of you. If you hadn’t agreed to come with me this week, then I wouldn’t have realized how off course I’ve gotten. This week and you have reminded me of all the things I want in life. And for that, I thank you.” Before she knew his intention, he leaned forward and kissed her.
Chapter Eight
His kiss didn’t surprise her so much, but his hunger did. His mouth covered hers with intense heat, with ravenous need, at the same time he moved closer and wrapped his arms around her.
She had no time to prepare for the overwhelming onslaught, no time to arm herself against the sensual assault of his embrace, the utter possession of his kiss.
As his tongue danced and tangled with hers, desire washed over her, through her...a desire she’d never experienced before, desire that made rational thought nearly impossible.
He rolled over on his back, bringing her with him so that she half lay on his chest. Still, he claimed her lips with his, the deep kiss continuing as his hands moved up and down her back.
Angela felt as if she had plunged into a dream. A dream of passion, and love... and Hank. Her head spun with the magic of his touch. She felt her blood heating inside her veins, her body electrifying as his kiss lingered on and on.
Wife for a Week Page 9