Her Fantasy Husband (Things to Do Before You Die)

by Nina Croft

  He didn’t want to be like brother and sister.

  “It will be fun,” she continued.

  Why did he doubt that? He could feel the softness of her lips on his cheek. There was still time to do the sensible thing and go away. Far away. Chances were she would be okay. She’d managed without him around all this time. He stood up, meaning to say he’d changed his mind. His words didn’t come out that way. “I’ll go pick up some stuff and get back before Harry.”

  “And I’ll arrange a meeting with everyone. Get them straight on the story. Can you be back by six?”

  “Yeah.” By “them” he presumed she meant her motley bunch of hangers-on. “Can you trust them?”

  She looked surprised at the question. “Of course.”

  You’d think, considering her past, she’d have a greater sense of self-preservation. How the hell had she survived this long all alone in the big bad world? It was amazing no one had taken advantage of her before now. Well, no one except her family.

  He pushed himself to his feet. “I’ll see you later.” He had a bad feeling that he’d somehow backed himself into a corner and now he was stuck there for the foreseeable future.

  With no chance of sex in sight.

  At least none that he was allowed to even think about.

  When he pulled up in front of the house three hours later, he still hadn’t managed to shake the bad feeling. In the army, he’d learned to listen to his gut feelings. His gut was telling him to run.

  Lexi Slater was trouble.

  She might look all cute and soft, and she might act all sweet and good. But for fuck’s sake, no one was that nice. He also had the strangest feeling that she’d played him again. He remembered the feel of that chaste little kiss on his cheek.

  Brother and sister?

  She couldn’t be unaware of what her touch did to him. Could she? Even the slightest, most innocent of touches.

  Since the other night, it was as though his neurons had been rewired. Somehow his wife and sex were inextricably entangled in his mind. Just the thought of her sent twinges to his dick. And now he’d agreed to share a room with her. It was unlikely she had two beds, so chances were he’d be sleeping on the floor for the duration of Harry’s visit. He hoped the bastard didn’t stay long.

  He went in without knocking—hey, he lived here now. Voices drifted out from the kitchen, and he pushed open the door. The room was full, crowded with people, or at least it seemed that way. He dropped his bag on the floor and looked around. In actual fact there were only four people present—Lexi, Jean, Sarah, and Tom. The children were nowhere in sight. The chicken was still in its basket, observing him out of beady eyes, and dogs and cats took up most of the floor space.

  What had he let himself in for? Maybe he should suggest they go stay at his lovely, uncluttered loft apartment instead. He’d put the idea to Lexi if things got too unpleasantly chaotic.

  A chair scraped as Lexi got to her feet. She gave him an almost timid smile and then came toward him. “I’ll show you to my room. We can get rid of the bag in case Harry turns up. We’ll be back in five,” she said to the others. As they left the room, she turned to him. “I’ve already told them what’s going on with my family. Now you just all need to get to know each other a little better, so Harry doesn’t pick up anything odd.”

  He wished she’d waited to do the “what’s going on” speech—then he might have more of a clue as to what was actually going on.

  She didn’t speak as she led him up one flight of stairs, then another, and then a narrow staircase. Where the hell was she taking him? The attic?

  Finally, she opened a door that led into a vast room that must have covered most of the house. The ceiling sloped and the back wall was almost all windows. He dropped his bag and stepped closer. It looked out over the Heath.

  “This is my room,” Lexi said.

  “It’s…nice.” He wasn’t sure nice was the right word. Interesting maybe. The space was a curious mix of modern and old fashioned. A jumble of different styles, every surface smothered in things—books and clothes and ornaments… He didn’t think he’d ever owned an ornament in his life. The walls were covered with a mixture of paintings and photographs. Disorganized chaos, like Lexi herself.

  “I had it remodeled from the old attics when I moved in. I love being up here. And the views are wonderful. I can lie in bed and look out onto the Heath.”

  At least it was big enough for them to be apart in, even with the absolutely huge four-poster bed that stood in the center. Mahogany posts and dark red curtains were tied back to show a crimson cover and a mound of pillows. She’d be lost in there alone. It was a bed made for at least two.

  “Nice bed,” he said.

  “It used to be in the master bedroom downstairs. I had to take it to pieces to get it up here, but I love it.”

  She sank onto the mattress and eyed him up. “I’ve cleared out some wardrobe space for you over there.” She waved a hand toward a vast mahogany cabinet. And the bathroom is through there.”

  A door, slightly ajar, stood opposite.

  He unpacked his bag quickly and efficiently.

  “You’re very organized,” she said as she watched him place his empty bag in the bottom of the wardrobe. He headed into the bathroom with his toiletries. If the bedroom was disorganized chaos, this was a nightmare. Every surface was covered with bottles and candles, and baskets of dried stuff. The air smelled of flowers, almost overpowering.

  The room was as big as a normal bedroom, with a walk in shower and a freestanding tub big enough for two. Not that they’d be sharing, but he had an image of Lexi, a hot bath, and a whole load of bubbles.

  Don’t go there.

  The only way this was going to work was if he kept his mind off sex. He was here to do a job. Think of it as a mission. A mission into enemy territory. Except it was hard to think of Lexi as an enemy.

  Brother and sister then, like she’d suggested. But he didn’t want a sister either.

  He searched in vain for a place to put his few things and caught sight of his harassed face in the mirror and Lexi behind him, leaning against the open door, a rueful expression on her face.

  “Sorry about the clutter, but no one else ever comes up here,” she said. “So I don’t really notice what it’s like.” She stepped up beside him and swept the stuff off one of the shelves, into a basket of the dried smelly stuff. “There, you have somewhere to put your things now.”

  He set them out on the shelf while she watched.

  “Gosh, you travel light,” she said.

  “You learn to in the army,” he replied.

  “I suppose. We’d better get down to the others.”

  He turned, found her closer than he’d expected, and took a step back, banging into the washbasin. Christ, he was skittish. What did he think she was going to do? Jump him?

  You wish.

  He studied the photographs as they went out; coming to a halt in front of one he hadn’t expected to see. It was a blow up of one she’d had in her office. Their wedding photograph. He was in uniform, while she was wearing a dark purple dress. It felt like a lifetime ago. He was pale, lines of pain bracketing his mouth. He’d only just gotten out of the hospital, and, remembering, he reached up and rubbed his shoulder.

  At that point he’d still had a plan. A purpose. Still believed that he’d get Evie back and they’d be a family again. That belief hadn’t survived for long.

  Lexi looked…young. Her face fuller. She had a bright smile that wasn’t totally reflected in her dark eyes.

  She halted at the door to see what was holding him up, her eyes widening as she took in what he was looking at. She cleared her throat. “I thought it would look odd if I didn’t have at least one photo of you on the wall. In case someone came up here.”

  But she’d said no one ever came up here.

  He followed her back down the staircase, his feelings all over the place. She was doing his head in. One minute he thought he had a han
dle on everything. The next he felt as though he was adrift in that lifeboat once more. He shook his head. She was different than anyone he had dealt with before. But he could do this. He’d been in the SAS for God’s sake. He was tough, trained to withstand torture. How hard could a few nights with Lexi be?

  “So,” Lexi said to the room. “You’ve all met Josh. As I told you, Josh and I have been married for five years. We love each other.”

  “Obviously,” Tom muttered, and Lexi glared.

  Josh sat on one of the chairs around the table, legs stretched out, trying to look relaxed.

  “Josh has spent a lot of time out of the country, but he’s here to stay now. If anyone asks, that’s all you need to say.”

  He looked at the faces around the room, they didn’t seem happy but one by one they nodded.

  “Good,” Lexi said. “It’s going to be easy as pie.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lexi was pushing the gate open when a car pulled up behind her and the engine switched off. She turned, recognized Josh’s car, and her heart rate instantly picked up. What was it with that?

  He climbed out, caught sight of her, and cast her a wary glance, like he wasn’t expecting her and it wasn’t a pleasant surprise.

  Hey, I do live here.

  She got the distinct impression that if he could have gotten away with it, he’d have climbed right back in and driven away. But that would have made him a coward, and he was a big, bad war hero. Running away was clearly not an option.

  And what had she done to make him want to run? She’d been perfectly well behaved, hadn’t touched him—though that would have been a little difficult as she’d hardly seen him—hadn’t demanded her marital rights.

  Ha. She was almost tempted, just to see the expression on his face.

  Grrr.

  Why had she thought his moving in was a good idea?

  She hadn’t slept in two nights. She felt on edge all the time, her nerves jangling. She couldn’t even use her vibrator while she was sharing a room with Josh, which might have calmed her down. He slept on the floor. She’d promised to keep her hands off him if he shared her huge bed. And it was a big bed; there was plenty of room. But he said the floor was good.

  He was sooo tough.

  That first night, he’d stuck around until Harry showed up, given a stellar performance of solidarity and marital bliss, and then taken himself off for the evening, saying he had work to do. And that had pretty much set the pattern for the next two days—creeping in after she’d gone to bed. The first night, she’d tried to engage him in perfectly innocent conversation. He’d just grunted that he was tired, rolled over, and gone to sleep.

  Now, she forced a smile to her face as he approached, and, not for the first time, wished he wasn’t quite so—she heaved a huge sigh—panty-melting gorgeous.

  Get a grip.

  But he was so tall and long and lean and muscly. And it didn’t help that she’d been using him to masturbate to for the last five years.

  He was wearing black jeans and a black T-shirt with Slater Security on the pocket. He wore the same thing every day—he had a whole pile of them in the drawer. Not that she’d been snooping through his things. Well, maybe, but only a little bit.

  Harry’s car was parked in front of the house, so she kept her smile in place as Josh approached. Harry could be doing his spy thing, peering from behind the upstairs curtains. For good measure, she stood up on tiptoe and kissed Josh on the cheek, then stepped back, waggling her eyebrows, in case he really thought she was pleased to see him and not merely acting.

  “Evening, darling,” she murmured. “Did you have a good day at the office?”

  His lips twitched, which was nice; he didn’t smile enough. “Very good, thank you. We got a new account, which is always nice. And you?”

  “Excellent. I finally got some school equipment out of customs in Uganda. It might actually get into the schools now.”

  “Good.”

  She shut the gate behind them. Josh took her hand and they strolled along the drive, hopefully looking like a happily married couple.

  “Far window, second floor,” Josh muttered in an aside. She glanced up, hopefully casually, and saw the curtain twitch.

  The hallway was empty, but a door slammed somewhere upstairs.

  “Come on,” Josh said, and tugged her up the stairs. They met Harry heading down from the second floor. Josh stepped to the side and pulled her back against him to give Harry room to pass, wrapping one big arm around her waist so it splayed against her belly, making her sex tingle and her nipples harden. To make matters worse, his lips nuzzled the really sensitive skin of her neck, obviously to emphasize the fact that they were in love and couldn’t keep their hands off each other, when in fact this was the first time he’d been in touching distance in days. His lips were soft, and he traced his tongue across her skin, something she was sure Harry wasn’t in a position to see. The caress, fake or not, sent shivers skittering down her nerves and made her squirm against him.

  Harry paused, sending them a disgusted look. “Get a room,” he muttered.

  “We have one, thank you,” Josh said. “And we’re on our way there right now.”

  Harry took another step, and then he stopped. “Hey, sis”—when had he ever called her sis before?—“I thought we might have dinner tonight. Talk about old times?”

  What old times?

  Josh beat her to an answer. “Sorry, bro, we’re going out.”

  He headed up the stairs, tugging her after him, but as soon as the door to her room slammed behind them, he dropped her hand like he might catch something.

  “We’re going out?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Well, you weren’t going out with him, so I had to say something. But I need to shower first.”

  Did he have to tell her that? As the bathroom door closed behind him, she sank onto the bed. A minute later, the water started running in the bathroom. Was he in the shower, soaping up that long, lean body…?

  She kicked off her sandals and fell backward so she lay staring up at the canopy. Of its own accord, her hand drifted across her breasts, and her nipples hardened to little peaks beneath the soft cotton of her shirt. She rubbed her fingertip over one, and it tightened further, sending a dart of pleasure zinging down to settle between her thighs. She shifted her hand lower, pressing the heel of her palm against her sex. It would only take her a minute.

  The water shut off, and she snatched her hand away, sat up, and eyed the bathroom door guiltily. It opened a second later, and out he popped, naked but for an inadequately small white towel around his hips.

  Was he crazy?

  Did he not realize the dangers of parading his nearly naked, totally hot body in front of the sex-crazed woman she was rapidly degenerating into?

  Look away, Lexi.

  Good advice, but somehow she couldn’t tear her gaze from him. The towel hung low on his hips. So low she could see that lovely V formed by his muscles of his abdomen, the line of golden hair that disappeared beneath the towel, the ridged muscles. And if she stared really hard, she could make out the bulge of his penis.

  He wandered around the room, taking no notice as she positively drooled over him, pulling clothes out of the closet, bending down to get underwear from the drawers, legs parted.

  If she hadn’t been completely convinced he wanted nothing to do with her sexually—and she knew that because he had told her so, in no uncertain terms—she’d think he was purposefully, and with evil intent, trying to tempt her.

  Nah.

  He just didn’t realize how hot he was. Or how fragile her hold on her self-control was becoming. Because if he did, if he could see the X-rated thoughts passing through her mind right now, he’d probably leap headfirst out the window.

  Be afraid. Be very afraid.

  He turned to look at her, clothes in his hand. Was he going to drop the towel now, or try and pull up his boxers—

  “Lexi?”

  She jumped. �
��Sorry? What? Did you say something?”

  “Are you going to shower?”

  Was she? She gave herself a little shake. “No. Later. I just came back to change my shoes.”

  It was the monthly pets-in-the-park session, and she always liked to go along. It was a regular event she had organized with the local vets after seeing something similar on the TV. Once a month, a number of them would set up in the park about half a mile away and offer their services for free. Anyone could bring their animals along, and they would be seen and treated. She tended to get very hands-on, so there was no point in showering first when she was bound to get dirty. But perhaps staying for Josh’s reverse striptease was not a good idea.

  She pushed herself up, gave him a last pathetic look, and headed for the bathroom. “I’ll go…wash my hands or…” Once inside, she locked the door and banged her head against the mirror.

  Get. A. Grip.

  When she was sure she’d given him enough time to be decently covered, she went back into the bedroom. He was dressed. It wasn’t exactly an improvement, but she could breathe easier. She found a pair of sneakers and slipped them on, then shoved her hands in her pockets. “Well, I have to go out.”

  “We’ll go together,” he said

  Of course. In case Harry was watching.

  As they passed the kitchen, Harry was sitting at the table, talking to Jean as she cooked something on the stove. He glanced around, caught sight of them, and a disgruntled expression crossed his face. At least he seemed convinced. So the act was worth it.

  She expected Josh to leave once they were outside the gate. Instead, he turned to her. “Where are you going?”

  “There’s this thing I help organize. Some vets work for free. People can come along and get their pets treated if they can’t afford to go the vet. Mostly homeless people. I like to help out.”

  “Because you don’t have enough animals to look after at home.”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll come along.”