Daisy shook her head. “I can’t afford you until you’re rich. Get out.”
Derek was, as always, a slow learner. And of course there was that hearing problem. “Just a place to stay for a while, love.”
“No. Get out.”
“Daisy, baby. Did you forget this?” He reached for her and wrapped his arms around her and kissed her neck while she shrank away.
“Let go.” Daisy fell into the hall with him as she tried to squirm out of his grasp. Derek was no rapist, but he was a twit and there was a limit to how much of this she was going to put up with. She kicked him hard on the shin, and as he gasped, she heard the front door open. “Help!” she called out, hoping Derek would give up since they had an audience.
Derek didn’t have time. Seconds later he was sprawled across the hall.
Daisy straightened her sweater and turned to her rescuer. “Thank you. He wasn’t actually—” Her voice faded away.
Linc loomed over Daisy, supporting himself with one hand on her doorframe as he tried to bring order and logic into her life again. The three Scotches he’d had on the plane to get his nerve up had joined the drink that Booker had given him, and now it felt right that he should be lecturing her. “Never open your door to anyone you don’t know.”
“She knows me,” the creep who’d attacked her said from the floor. “I’m her boyfriend. Who the hell are you?”
Her boyfriend? Linc focused on him. Oh, right. The musician. Darrin or Derek or something. Well, he was history. “I’m her husband.” Linc turned and loomed over him too. “Go away or I’ll break your fingers.”
“You got married?” Derek stared at Daisy, indignant. “I was only gone eight months.”
“But you never wrote,” Daisy pointed out. “So I took the next guy who asked. He’s a hit man. He makes sure that the people who bother me disappear. In fact—”
Linc watched her get into her story. It made him feel nostalgic and dizzy, and he put a hand back on the wall to steady himself. Daisy’s eyes widened and she picked up speed. “He knows my brother in New Jersey. So you have to go now.” She took Linc’s hand and he squeezed hers, glad to feel her warm beside him as she tugged him through the doorway.
“You don’t have a brother in New Jersey.” Derek picked himself up from the floor. “You’re an only child from Tennessee.”
Daisy was supporting a lot of Linc’s weight now; she was stronger than he’d thought. “He’s adopted. Thanks again for the stereo. Now, go away or … my husband will hurt you.” She looked up at Linc.
“Yeah.” Linc nodded slowly. “I could do that.”
“Come on, honey.” Daisy nudged him with her hip, and he stumbled into the apartment so she could slam the door behind them.
“What was he doing here?” Linc squinted at her.
“He wants me back.” Daisy put her hands on her hips. She still had great hips. “I’m unforgettable. I thought you moved.”
Oh, hell, now he had to explain things. “I did. Look, do you have any coffee? I don’t feel very well.”
Daisy hesitated and then said, “Sure,” and moved toward the kitchen while he watched her, thinking unsafe thoughts.
This is a very bad idea, he told himself, and then he followed her.
Daisy was out of coffee, but there was some left over from the day before in the pot, so she microwaved it, watching him out of the corner of her eye while she worked. He was as big and solid as she remembered. And still square-jawed handsome. And safe. Oh, damn. She took the cup from the microwave when it dinged and put it in front of him.
He drank from it and made a face.
“Sorry, that’s all I have.”
“No, no, it’s fine.” He focused on her, and his face looked funny. Then he took a deep breath, flaring his nostrils, and looked better.
Tense, Daisy thought.
“You remember the Cinderella deal?” She nodded and he said, “I need a wife.”
Daisy’s heart kicked up speed, but she kept her face calm. “That’s what you needed before.”
“No.” Linc shook his head, and the momentum kept him shaking seconds longer than necessary. “Before I needed a fake fiancée. Now Crawford wants me to get married in his garden. He wants me to marry you.”
Daisy sat down. Marriage. For a moment she’d almost thought her story was going to come true, that he was going to invite her back to be a fake fiancée for a while, but this was the real thing, and standing up in front of a minister and lying to God was not a possibility. “Didn’t you tell him we had irreconcilable differences?”
“Yeah. He told me to reconcile them.” Linc waved that away. “Forget that.” He leaned forward and presented his sentences carefully to her. “The house I’ve got has four bedrooms. You could set up your studio in one and paint all day. I’ll support you. All you have to do is show up at campus functions and be a wife. That’s all. You don’t have to do anything else in Prescott that you’re not doing here.” He frowned over what he’d said, nodded to himself, pulled his cup back, drank some more coffee, and winced. “I’ll make the coffee though.”
Daisy tried to think rationally. It wasn’t her strong point at the best of times, and it was even worse with Linc sitting across from her in the all too attractive flesh, so she concentrated on the basics. “Let me get this straight. Essentially, you want me to marry you for your money. As God is your witness, if I marry you, I’ll never be hungry again?”
Linc thought about it. “That pretty much covers it.”
No, it didn’t. You probably haven’t noticed, but I have this thing for your body, she told him silently. She took a deep breath. “What about sex?”
Linc blinked at her. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders and he wanted to tangle his fingers in it and pull her toward him. That was a bad idea, which was a shame because it had tremendous appeal. “I told you, you don’t have to do anything in Prescott that you’re not doing here.” Unless you want to, he thought, looking at her big brown eyes glowing at him. I want to.
Daisy folded her arms and leaned back, and it was just his bad luck that she folded them under her breasts, and there went his mind again. “What are you going to do for sex?” she asked him.
He needed a different topic fast. “That’s my problem, and I’ll solve it. Don’t worry about it.”
“You’d cheat on me? What would Crawford say?”
Linc thought of Crawford and his faculty wives. “He’d probably say ‘Way to go, son.’ College professors are not known for their fidelity.”
She stuck out her chin at him, and his gaze traveled down the curve of her throat.
“What about me?” she asked.
“You? Sex?” He hadn’t thought about her having an affair. Or, rather he had thought about it, but he had thought about her with him. Some other guy? He didn’t like it, but he couldn’t afford to scare her off. He shrugged. “Be discreet.”
“Sure, that’s always been one of my specialties.” She took a deep breath. “You know, I’m not sure I wouldn’t like to pretend to be married for a while. I can’t do it for real, the vow would be a lie to God, but I think I could pretend. It sounds sort of … secure.”
He nodded, nudging her down the road to Prescott. “Security I can give you. And we could get married by a judge. No God in the ceremony at all.”
She thought about it. “When’s midnight?”
“Midnight?”
“You know. When Cinderella turns back into a pumpkin. Midnight. When we stop being married.”
“Oh.” Linc hadn’t thought far enough ahead to worry about an end. “I don’t know.”
Daisy pursed her lips. She had great lips. Forget her lips. “A year? Lots of marriages hit the skids after a year. Or maybe the end of the school year. June. That’s ten months. I’ll flounce off at the end of June and leave you to be consoled by your adoring students and Little Gertrude.”
“Ten months is fine. Whatever.” He was having trouble focusing again. “Will you do it?”
He suddenly straightened and patted his jacket pocket. “Wait a minute. Let me do this right.” He pulled out the daisy ring they’d used the last time they were in Prescott and offered it to her, and for some reason, his hand shook. He took a deep breath. “Daisy Blaise, will you marry me?”
Daisy felt her throat catch as she looked at her old ring, the tiny sapphire blinking in the lamplight. It was pretty and sweet, the kind of ring Daisy Blaise would love. Linc had been right to insist on it. Daisy Flattery still liked the chased silver and free-form pearls, but Daisy Blaise would want this ring. If she put it back on, she’d be Daisy Blaise again; Linc obviously thought she still was; he’d even called her that. If she went along with it, she could have everything she wanted and needed.
It’s time for a change, she told herself. Stop being such a coward. She nodded at Linc and said “Yes,” and he exhaled and slipped the ring on her finger, fumbling a little because her hands were shaking and so were his.
Oh, my God, she thought as she felt her hand in his. What am I doing?
Then Linc stood up and said, “Let’s get started,” and Daisy pulled her hand back.
“Started on what?”
“Calling movers,” Linc said. “Packing your clothes.” He frowned even as he mentioned her clothes. “We’ve got to get back to Prescott tonight. Our return flight leaves at seven.”
Daisy’s jaw dropped. “Tonight?”
“Why wait?”
Daisy looked around the apartment she’d had for eight years. She’d loved it, but now it was too small, like her old life. Just like in the fairy tale: the Prince had come along and swept her out of the ashes, and it would ruin the story if he stopped to pack or cancel the phone. “All right.” She stood up. “All right, then. Let’s go.”
She watched bemused as Linc called the movers, who agreed to come on Wednesday. Then she called Julia, who laughed when she told her she was going to Prescott and promised to take the day off from school to watch the movers, especially when they were packing Daisy’s stained glass lamp. Linc left to buy a travel case for the cats, and when he got back, Daisy had her clothes packed and was sitting on the boxes, feeling a little lost.
Linc stood in front of her, looking efficient and in charge and that didn’t help her qualms any. “Our return flight is in two hours,” he told her. “I picked up tranquilizers for the cats. See if you can find Annie.” He looked at Liz sprawled out on the floor, asleep in the sun. “I have enough for two in case Liz regains consciousness.”
“Forget Liz, give them to me,” Daisy said.
Daisy was so stunned when she saw Linc’s house that she sat down on the curb to get her breath. It was her house, gleaming yellow in the twilight just the way she’d imagined it. Less than twelve hours earlier she’d been stuck in her old story, and now she’d been given everything she wanted for her new one. It seemed too good to be true, but there was the house in front of her.
Linc paid the cabdriver and then turned and saw her on the curb. “What are you doing?”
“It’s perfect,” she told him.
“Good,” he said. “Now get up off the curb before the neighbors think you’re weird.”
Daisy thought about telling him where he could put the neighbors but didn’t. This is his story, she reminded herself as she stood up. Then she looked at the house again, so beautiful in the autumn evening. There was no reason she couldn’t make his story part of hers, at least the house part. In a way it already was; he’d painted it yellow for her.
But after the tour of the house, she knew it was still his story and still his house. True, the house did have glowing amber wood floors and an ornate mantel and an oak staircase, but every single wall was painted stark white.
She looked at Linc in despair. “White?”
He frowned at her, defensive. “It looks clean. And neat.”
Neat. Something she obviously wasn’t. The tension of the past day made her temper spurt. “Are you kidding? We could operate in here. I can’t live in a hospital room, Linc. And, my God, this furniture, all this leather and metal stuff. I can’t live like this.”
He sat down, looking exhausted and pulled the cat carrier toward him. “So you can mix in some of your stuff when the movers send it.” He opened the door to the cat carrier and looked inside. “Hello?”
“They’re still asleep.” Daisy looked around at his black leather and chrome. “I don’t think our furniture is going to mix.”
“Let’s cross that bridge when we come to it.” He picked up one of her boxes and started upstairs. “The house is the least of our problems.”
Daisy looked around at the white walls and ugly furniture. “No, it isn’t,” she said. Whether he liked it or not, his furniture was going to have to go and hers would have to come in. She felt her spirits rise at the thought. He’d like it once he saw her things in the house. Her stuff was old-fashioned and warm, just like the house. He’d love it once he saw it. He’d say, “Daisy, it’s amazing what color can do for a house. Thank you.” And she’d smile and he’d smile and the cats would curl up in the windows and they’d live happily ever after.
Feeling much better, Daisy picked up a box and followed Linc upstairs.
Once he’d helped her unpack and she’d hung her clothes in the empty bedroom across the hall from his, she explored the house, making plans, mentally moving her furniture in and burning his. The moon was high by the time she climbed the stairs again, and Linc was asleep in the only bed.
“Hey.” She poked him.
“Mmmphf.”
“Hey.” She poked him harder.
“What?”
“Shouldn’t you be on the couch like a gentleman?”
“I never said I was a gentleman,” he said sleepily. “This is a king size. I’m so tired I couldn’t find you if I wanted you. Which I don’t. Go to sleep.”
As a speech, it was a lot more reassuring than flattering, but she was exhausted too, so she knew how he felt. She went across the hall and changed into her nightgown and took her soap and toothbrush into the bathroom. By the time she was ready for bed, he was asleep again.
She crawled in beside him and fell asleep almost instantly, dreaming of gleaming wood floors with Liz sprawled in the sunlight.
Linc woke up the next morning with his arm around Daisy, pressed close against her back. She was wearing the same thin cotton T-shirt she wore the night they’d spent in the motel, but this time they were in the same bed. And he was awake in more ways than one.
SIX
MOVE BEFORE SHE wakes up, he told himself, but he didn’t want to. She was so soft and warm and round and he felt so good pressed up against her. It took all the self-control he had not to move his hand up to the fullness of her breast. She’d be terrific to sleep with in the winter, he thought as he moved his cheek against her hair, and then he realized that he wouldn’t be sleeping with her in the winter. She’d be terrific to sleep with anytime, he thought, growing dizzy with the thought. Maybe we could …
No. The last thing in the world he needed was to have an affair with a temporary wife. That would simply add an emotional element to an already impossible situation. No, no, no.
So why is your arm still around her? he asked himself.
“Why is your arm around me?” Daisy asked sleepily.
“I never had a teddy bear when I was little.” Linc held himself very still. “I’m compensating. Go back to sleep. This is completely asexual.”
“I don’t think so.” Daisy yawned and stretched a little, which compounded Linc’s problem. “Is that a gun in your pajamas, or are you just glad to wake up with me?”
He rolled away from her and got up to get dressed. “That’s your imagination.”
“Right,” she said, and fell back asleep.
She had to be the calmest woman in the world. Either that or she trusted him completely. That was depressing somehow. He went to take a cold shower.
After Linc left, Daisy took a cold shower. Do not think about this man,
she told herself as she shuddered under the icy water. Do not think about how good he felt wrapped around you. Do not think about how good all that hardness would have felt moving inside you.
She felt hot in spite of the cold water. Stop it, Daisy, she told herself. He’s not the kind of person you want to get involved with. Just marry him and forget him.
Right.
She plunged into her work, concentrating on unpacking her clothes and answering the phone and planning the house.
Linc called and his voice made her warm again. She listened absently to him telling her that their blood tests were at eleven and that he’d called his mother.
Pansy, she thought guiltily, and then asked, “What did she say?”
“Congratulations.”
“That’s it?”
“She said she’d try to be here for the wedding.”
“Oh.” Meeting Linc’s mother was probably going to go a long way toward explaining his furniture and his car.
“My brothers are coming,” Linc went on. “We’d better make some reservations at the college inn. One for my brothers and one for my mother in case she makes it. Anyone else?”
“Julia. She’s driving over on Wednesday. And my mother. I haven’t called her yet, but she’ll be here.”
“Oh, great.” He sighed. “At least it’ll all be over by Friday.”
Daisy looked at the phone in disbelief. No, it wouldn’t. That’s when it would start. They’d be married. The thought galvanized her into action and she called her mother.
“Mom, this is Daisy.”
“How are you, baby?” Her mother’s voice was vague as usual, and Daisy pictured her staring into space, trying to concentrate.
“I’m getting married, Mom.”
Pansy’s voice sharpened considerably. “What? To who? Since when? I don’t understand.”
Daisy took a deep breath and plunged into her mother’s questions. “He’s a wonderful man, Mom. A college professor. He just swept me off my feet. We’re getting married Thursday here in Prescott, Ohio.”
“Where?” Pansy’s voice rose to a squeak. “What’s going on?”
The Cinderella Deal Page 8