His Temporary Wife (14 page)

She grabbed the top towel and shook it out as she followed him through his bedroom.
He opened the door and stepped aside, then saw the towel she’d chosen. An oversized
bath sheet with a lifelike, nearly life size picture of Cody.

“This day couldn’t get weirder if it tried,” he muttered. “Look for me in the study
when you’re ready, and uh … if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Rafa.” She patted his cheek as she moved by him. She’d never used his nickname
before, but before he could comment on it, the door closed between them and moments
later, water blasted against the shower walls.

The urge to turn the handle and see if she’d locked the door almost overwhelmed him.
He beat it back. Why would he want to know if the door was open? He’d offered the
shower and promised a hands-off relationship even if they shared a bedroom for a few
weeks.

What he should want to know was just what would happen if she married him and he couldn’t
keep his crazy promise about not wanting her in his shower every night. With the door
open.

• • •

Esmeralda stood under the pounding spray and dropped her head, letting the water massage
her neck and shoulders. She should turn off the faucet and get out. But she wasn’t
ready to sit down next to Rafael Benton and discuss marriage, even a mock marriage.
Stripping her clothes off and stepping into his shower seemed the most daring thing
she’d done recently. He was sitting in his study waiting for her. Had he been thinking
about her, here? Naked? A shiver of desire coursed through her. Probably. When she’d
turned the water on, she’d had a delicious image of him in the stall, water sliding
over his remarkable body … and of his eyes, burning dark fire, focused on her. She
smiled as she stepped out and started to towel herself dry. She’d promised herself
in Rose Creek not to pursue momentary relationships that were high risk and low emotion.
Rafael had taken himself out of the running, and that was smart. She couldn’t see
herself sleeping with a man when money was involved. But fantasizing about him? That
couldn’t possibly be wrong. And sometimes fantasy was better than the real thing anyway.

He was working at a laptop when she went in, frowning over some numbers. “I’ll be
right with you. The Houston office sent me a report they didn’t think looked right.”

She watched, mesmerized, while his fingers flicked over keys and his expression seemed
to change constantly in relation to the severity of whatever it was that he was correcting.
She knew he had money and hadn’t really thought he’d had to work for it. But clearly
he knew what he was doing, and enjoyed it. She smiled to herself, thinking that he
attacked this task with the same enthusiasm as he did fishing—probably with better
results, too.

He finished and logged off, then stood and stretched and managed to half hide a yawn
behind his forearm. “Late night,” he explained, with a wink. “First I got trapped
into buying dinner for half the town at Rosita’s. Don’t ever let anyone there talk
you into playing that game where they draw straws, because I haven’t won yet, and
the loser buys dinner for everyone in the game. Then some redhead singing old country
brought the house down around my ears and marches up to demand that I marry her.”

“Really?” Esmeralda stood and closed the distance between them. “What I heard,” she
whispered throatily, “is that this smart-mouth little rich boy who thinks he’s all
that tried to pick up this naïve karaoke singer …”

“I’ll buy the naïve,” he answered gravely, but laughter tinged his voice anyway, and
the dimples were there again. “I mean, this naïve karaoke singer couldn’t even name
her horse after the simplest kinky fetish.”

Esme stepped closer and rested a palm on his chest. She could feel the slight tensing,
the rhythm of his heart. She’d meant to stop his teasing about Domatrix, but she knew
her own fingers quivered slightly in response to his reaction to her touch. And they
were going to share living quarters and not touch for how long? She couldn’t give
in, though, needed to make him understand that she controlled the relationships she
was in.

“You know how you said you don’t always play fair? Well …” Her fingers trailed down
slightly, lingering on his taught stomach and stopping there. “I’m not naïve, Rafael.
You’d do well to remember that.”

He raised an eyebrow, and lifted a hand to cup her chin. “You’d be surprised at how
well I remember things, Esme. Take the first time I saw you, in the mirror—your hair
wild, those green eyes.” His voice went still lower. “Your blouse half unbuttoned.”

She closed her eyes. Oh, she remembered. The memory sparked fire low in her belly
and made her feel a little shaky. She could reach out, pull him close …

“Oh, excuse me.” The reproach cut through the room and the moment, and Esme let her
hand drop, but refused to move away from Rafael. Marie was his secretary. And his
watchdog, apparently. Let him deal with her.

“Yes, Marie?” The question was bland and professional, and there was some satisfaction
that he didn’t immediately move away from her.

“I’m very sorry to interrupt.”

Yeah, right.

“It’s just that Missy from Angel Wings called to ask if you had room for a few more
things. She wanted them to go to the Children’s Home in Nuevo Laredo.”

“Call her back and ask if I can swing by later tonight to pick everything up. I’ll
find a way to fit everything in.”

“Right.” Marie nodded curtly and left, and Esmeralda glanced at her watch. “Tonight’s
going to happen before you know it, and we haven’t talked.” She took advantage of
the broken mood to return to her chair and sit down. “You’ve got one last chance to
convince me, Benton,” she finished.

“All right.” He walked over and propped a hip on the corner of his desk. “What do
I need to tell you?”

“Why you’re doing it. I still can’t wrap my mind around having to marry someone in
this day and age for your parents. I mean, couldn’t you just pretend?”

He rubbed his chin, shook his head, and sighed. “I wish it were that easy. If you
meet them, I think you’ll understand. I made the mistake of pretending once, Esme.
I had a girlfriend in college. Serious, I thought. Paulette.”

“And?”

“I knew how my mom and dad felt even then. I was sure Paulette and I belonged together,
even though none of my friends liked her. They all warned me she was with me for money,
not love, but I blew them off.”

“What happened?”

“I took her home to meet Cody and the folks. Cody hated her, but I just thought Cody
wasn’t ready to see her big brother—her only brother—with someone else. She was used
to being the center of attention, and I thought she was jealous of Paulette. But I
didn’t want Mom and Dad to think badly of Paulette or lecture her on how marriages
create foundations for unbreakable families. So I told them we’d married secretly
in college. Stopped on the way home from UT to buy her a ring. She didn’t mind playing
along at all.”

“But she didn’t love you? Maybe—”

“No. Trust me. She didn’t. I spent several months playing husband to a woman who only
wanted more. More money, more attention, more things. She kept going to my mom with
complaints about how she’d given up her life for me. She kept asking my dad for money
for this and that, saying that I’d told her we needed to be responsible and not take
advantage of my parents. I was studying business then and not really working for my
dad yet, except during the summer. I didn’t have my own income. I didn’t know she
was telling them we were having all kinds of financial problems.”

Esme could remember all the years she’d spent trying to please her parents. Apparently
he’d done more than she had to keep their affection; he’d toed the same line that
she’d been so intent on crossing all those years ago. There was irony in that, and
a little sadness. But she didn’t say anything, and when he didn’t go on, she prodded
him, needing to hear how the story ended.

“And after that?”

“Eventually my mom had suspicions—not about the marriage, but about Paulette loving
me. I caught Paulette in lies and knew something was wrong. But it came to a head
when my mom visited her family out of town. She came back earlier than she expected
and found Paulette in their bedroom—in their bed—hoping my father would walk in. She
actually thought she could take him away from my mother.”

“But at least you hadn’t really married her.”

He laughed derisively. “You won’t believe this, but apparently it would have been
smarter to do that! My folks paid a fortune in legal fees, because I’d passed her
off everywhere as my wife. Common law, and she had some experience taking money from
jerks.” He shrugged. “That’s when my mom and dad asked me to show them a pre-nuptial
agreement before I married again. They said they needed to protect themselves and
Cody, but I know they want to protect me. I guess they think I’d fall for that kind
of woman again.”

“Would you?”

“No.”

She hesitated, but he’d asked about Toby. Besides, if they were going to be married,
they’d obviously need to know about the exes—at least the important ones. “I know
you’re angry, but … do you still love her?”

“No. I don’t even like to think about her, let alone discuss her. But you did ask.”

“I thought I should know.”

“Sure.” He pushed himself up and moved to the chair behind his desk, pulling open
a drawer and taking out a folder. “These are the terms my lawyers drew up. Certain
settlements are provided after short increments of time—to cover the salary I mentioned.
By the end of the summer, if not sooner, Mom and Dad will have made their decision.
Hopefully, if that bastard Harper or any other make-believe father comes forward,
we’ll have been able to debunk their stories and be sure Justin isn’t taken away.”

“And we all live happily ever?” Esme asked.

He cocked his head. “That’s the plan. Why wouldn’t we?”

She shrugged. “Plans don’t always work, Rafael. What if the woman you marry decides
to hang on to you?”

“She won’t. At least, she shouldn’t, and I’ll make that very clear. Whoever I choose
will need to be able to take the money and run.”

“It is a lot of money for a few weeks’ work. But you’re worth a lot more. I can see
someone not being willing to go. I assume the longer you’re married, the more a woman
could get.”

“Yes, but the pre-nuptial limits the money for two years. I thought that would be
safer. She wouldn’t have to agree to leave me in order for me to file for divorce.”

“And there’s no sex, no wild passionate love?”

He grinned. “Should make leaving a little easier, shouldn’t it?”

Oh, yeah.
“Your method has madness. Good.” She nodded. “So, a hands-off marriage. Is that written
in the contract?”

“Of course not! That would be stupid,” he retorted. “My mom and dad aren’t going to
look at a pre-nuptial that says, ‘no physical contact of any kind allowed’ and believe
it’s a real marriage, are they? I mean, most pre-nuptials set amounts of money for
the time spent married. The way mine is written specifies the two hundred thousand
and expenses for up to two years as a settlement amount. In other words, if the marriage
lasts for a period from one month to two years, the two hundred thousand is what my
wife would be entitled to—she couldn’t try to collect more money from me. Amounts
after two years would have to be agreed upon by both parties, with stipulations about
things like children and length of time the marriage lasts. But since I’ll file for
divorce at the end of the summer, there won’t be any long-term implications. And in
addition to the pre-nup, I’ve drawn up an employment contract for a summer assistant’s
job, where the two hundred thousand is listed as a salary. Of course, my parents would
never see that contract.”

“Why are you so sure the marriage will be hands-off?” she pushed. “What if whoever
marries you can’t keep her hands off you, or vice versa?”

“Obviously we’re not going to be able to avoid everything. A kiss, holding hands—we’ll
have to go through the motions.”

“And what if going through the motions gets out of hand? Because in my experience—and
I do have experience, Rafael—a little hand-holding and a few kisses can lead to more.
A lot more. In no time at all.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk, apparently considering his answer, then sighed.
“Why does everything sound like a dare with you?”

“Surely you’ve thought about it.”

“Yeah.” His lips twitched. “And considering your self-proclaimed experience, I’m sure
you’d consider it a sacrifice. I’m not saying it will be a great marriage. But it’s
a terrific job for the right woman. Are you interested, Esme?”

She laced her fingers together. She could help her aunt. Maybe with money problems
put to rest, Tina would be more approachable. Maybe she could develop the relationship
with her aunt that she’d coveted as a teenager. She unlocked her fingers and stood.

“Before I can tell you that, I need to know one last thing.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Hit me.”

“The day we met, at Tia’s, you said something to Angel as I left.”

“Okay. What’s your question?”

“Who did you swear to kill, Rafael? My aunt—or me?”

• • •

She’d heard?
Damn.
He knew when he uttered the words that he shouldn’t have. In fact he’d worried about
Angel not letting him in and out of Tía’s office the next time he asked her. And he
hadn’t imagined Esmeralda could have heard him.

“Why the hell would I want to kill you?” he asked, stalling.

“Why would you want to kill anyone? You didn’t sound like you were kidding. You meant
it.”

He stood and walked around the desk, but stopped several feet away.

“No, I wasn’t kidding. I also wasn’t serious about doing it.”

Esme stood there, so close, clearly suspicious. Her lips were pursed and she stared
at him, unblinking.