Read Temporary Fiancée Online

Authors: Judy Rogers

Tags: #Contemporary

Temporary Fiancée (16 page)

Drawing a long, shuddering breath, she willed the tears to stop. “That isn’t the real problem between us,” she said, marveling that her voice remained composed while inside she was screaming and yelling and throwing dishes.

He leaned away from her, and she lifted her chin to stare at him. “What do
you
think the problem between us is?” he asked politely, his eyes once again hooded and watchful.

“Forget it,” she mumbled, turning toward the door as despite her efforts, fat tears continued the silent trek down her cheeks. Before she could move away, he grabbed her arm, and pulled her to face him, wincing when he saw the tears. Although his face was carefully neutral, she could feel his hands shaking. Maybe he wasn’t as indifferent as he appeared.

One hand reached up to brush a tear from her chin, and the brooding disappeared from his eyes. “Please. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Although reassured by his brief hint of vulnerability, Haley knew her heart was still on the endangered species list.

“You don’t trust me,” she said, brushing the back of her hand across her eyes. “Because of Angela, or whatever, you don’t trust women in general, and me in particular. I can understand it, but I don’t think I’m strong enough to wait while you work your way through this hang-up.”

“Look at me,” he demanded, and when she complied, she was surprised to see her despair reflected in his eyes.

“I know I’ve given you mixed messages, but I do want you, and not just for the sex.” He stared into her eyes.

“I’ve never been one to take things at face value anyway, but I trusted Angela. When she cheated on me, then acted as if it was nothing, my ego took a beating. I do have a problem with trust, but I’ll work on it, I promise. I don’t want to lose you. Please stay,” he whispered.

Haley heard the intensity in his voice, felt the trembling of his hands on her shoulders. She had always shared her feelings with anyone who would listen, but realized it was difficult for Rand to open up. Loving him was easy for her, but understanding him was a totally different ball game.

He had such power to hurt her, but she also needed to learn to trust. She had faith in love and happy endings. Now was the time to put her faith to the test. She leaned against him, her arms sliding around his waist as her lips pressed soft kisses against his collarbone. “I’ll stay,” she murmured, lifting her face to his.

He shuddered as he dragged her against him. “Yes!” he swore exultantly, his body hard and thrusting against her. As they moved to the bed, he grabbed the hem of her silk nightgown and tugged it over her head. Their coming together was explosive—thrilling and satisfying in its intensity.

In the aftermath, as Haley curled limp and sated against Rand’s sweaty body, happiness filled her.

Rand glanced at her face and chuckled. “You look as though you won the lottery,” he teased.

She could feel her smile expanding, welling from some place deep inside. “It’s way better than the lottery.” And it was. Their loving had sealed the unspoken commitment they had made to each other. She loved Rand, and he loved her. Although neither had mentioned marriage, or even the word love, she knew this type of commitment would inevitably lead them there.

Suddenly Rand lifted his head from the pillow and cocked his head toward the door. “I think Carrie’s up.”

Just then she heard the faint sound of singing from the guest bathroom. “The wheels on the bus go round and round...” Leaping from the bed, Haley once again scooped up her nightgown and made a beeline for the bathroom, closing the door just as Carrie knocked.

“Hey, Uncle Rand, how come the door’s locked?”

“We’re getting dressed,” Rand answered, struggling into a pair of denim shorts and a sleeveless athletic shirt.

“Is Haley in there?” The little girl shouted through the door. “She isn’t in her bed.”

Rand hobbled to the door, opened it and grinned down at her. She was wearing an oversized neon green shirt that hung to her ankles. “Haley’s taking a shower. Where’d you get the nightshirt?”

“It’s Haley’s. She gived it...uh, gave it to me to sleep in, cuz Mommy and Daddy went to talk about things.”

“Your mom’s with your dad?”

“Yup. Haley told me when she came home. You were asleep,” she said accusingly.

He nodded absently, wondering how the hell Elizabeth had ended up with Craig. Just then Haley poked her head out of the bathroom. “Hi, you two,” she said smiling.

“Haley!” Carrie ran to the door, nearly tripping on the hem of the green shirt. “Tell Uncle Rand about Mommy and Daddy.”

“I will, sweetie, but before I do, could you go into the other bedroom and get my overnight bag for me? It’s blue.”

Carrie didn’t move. Her face scrunched up as if she were mulling something over.

“What’s the matter, Carrie?” Rand questioned.

“I’m trying to decide if it’s all right for Haley to call me sweetie,” she explained. “I don’t want to be mean, but I already told her I have a real name.”

“Carrie, could you please bring my overnight bag to me?” Haley repeated the request, trying to keep a straight face.

Carrie flashed a wide smile, and made a beeline for the door. “I’ll be right back.”

With her wet hair slicked back, and her scrubbed face as fresh as a garden flower, Haley once again looked like a teenager, Rand thought.

A very enticing teenager.

He was damn glad she wasn’t.

“How did Elizabeth and Craig end up together last night?” He asked.

Rattled, she nervously smoothed a damp curl behind her ear. “Well, it was kind of...” She took a breath, closed her eyes briefly, then continued. “Liz is miserable separated from Craig. They still love each other. So last night when the brakes started smoking, she called him to come and get us, and they decided to go somewhere to talk.”

“Whoa...Wait a minute.” Rand held up a hand. “I just had the Porsche overhauled. Those brakes were fine.”

As Rand watched, a guilty flush stained Haley’s cheeks. She stared at the carpet, refusing to look at him.

“Tell me what happened.”

She lifted her face, chagrin and defiance warring in her features. “I left the emergency brake on when we left the Boise Center, and it burned up your brake shoes.”

He couldn’t believe it. That car was his pride and joy. His dream car. His baby. “You said you knew how to drive.”

“I do.”

“Then why did you drive with the emergency brake on?” He didn’t even attempt to keep the irritation out of his voice.

“It was the only way I could think of to bring your sister and her husband together,” she admitted, staring at the floor again.

“What are you talking about?” he bellowed, losing the battle to stay calm. Before he had met Haley Marchand, he hardly ever raised his voice. She was driving him crazy. He couldn’t believe she had deliberately sabotaged his car. He limped closer to the bathroom door until he was standing directly in front of her. She was steadfastly studying her bare feet.

“Please tell me you didn’t wreck my Porsche for some romantic fantasy of getting Elizabeth and Craig back together.”

She did look up then, her eyes narrowed. “It’s not wrecked, and it wasn’t a fantasy. They did get back together.”

He could tell she was tempted to stick out her tongue, and irrationally, his anger dissipated. He suddenly wanted to hug her. Her hands were on her hips, as though braced for an explosion. Although she appeared resolute, her eyes pleaded for understanding. One by one, her drying curls sprung up around her head like springs popping. Cute. No, more than cute. She was absolutely adorable.

He’d never before thought of women in terms of “adorable”. Sophisticated, elegant, seductive were the adjectives he usually used to describe women he was interested in. Haley was turning his brain to oatmeal. He should be livid about his car; instead he wanted to kiss her.

As she continued to eye him nervously, he grinned at her, then watched in amusement as her body sagged in relief, and she flung her arms around his neck.

“Thank you. Thank you,” she babbled, standing on tiptoe to issue tiny kisses on his cheek and chin.

“What are you thanking me for?” Rand asked dryly, the grin still on his face.

“For not being too angry about the car. I’ll pay to have the brakes fixed. You can even dock my pay,” she said sincerely.

“Damn right, I’ll dock your pay. It’s about seven hundred dollars to replace those Porsche brake shoes.”

As her eyes widened in dismay, Rand tried to scowl but couldn’t quite carry it off. He loved the feel of her in his arms, a small bundle of dynamite. He could feel tiny explosions somewhere in the region of his heart.

“Maybe we could work a trade,” he teased, unprepared for the way her body stiffened in his arms.

“What kind of trade?”

He glanced down at her. Her very expressive face was carefully controlled as she gazed steadily back at him. What was wrong with her? One minute they were embracing, and now she was looking at him as if he had a contagious disease. Then it dawned on him how she had interpreted his remark about working a trade.

With a mock leer, he bent slightly to whisper in her ear. “I want you to be my love slave.”

She shot him a startled look, then stepped away. Suddenly her eyes glinted in appreciation and she started laughing helplessly. “Love slave? I’ve never been anyone’s love slave before. What’s the going rate?”

Stroking his chin, pretending to think, he fought the huge grin threatening to break out all over his face. Lord, it was fun teasing her. “Well, if you’re not union, I think the rate is about fifty dollars an hour.”

She stuck out her hand. “Deal. It’s a lot more than a temp usually makes, and...” She paused, giving him a seductive look, steamy enough to make his toes curl.

“And?” he encouraged.

“The benefits are a lot better.” She grinned, then stretched to kiss him lightly on the mouth.

He caught her wrist and pulled her gently toward him. “Come here, Miss Marchand. We need to discuss the duties and obligations of a love slave.”

She danced just out of his reach. “Carrie’s standing in the doorway,” she whispered.

He had forgotten about his niece. What had she seen? Heard? He turned his back away from the door and limped toward the bed, carefully concealing the bulge in his shorts.

“What’s a love slave?” Carrie asked innocently.

The color rose in Haley cheeks. Rand felt his own cheeks burning. As Haley took the overnight bag from Carrie and headed toward the bathroom, she looked back with a mischievous smile. “Uncle Rand can tell you about love slaves, Carrie. I have to do something with my hair.”

Rand could hear her laughing behind the closed door. Facing Carrie’s wide-eyed inquiry, he laughed. He gave her some inane explanation about Abraham Lincoln and sent her off to change clothes.

He lay back on the bed, listening to Haley singing in the bathroom. “
You are my sunshine, My only sunshine
.”

He grinned absently at the ceiling. She had a terrible voice.

No woman had ever exasperated him and delighted him as much as Haley Marchand. He’d only known her three days. In three days, she had wrapped herself around his heart. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fall in love with her. The thought sobered him. He suddenly realized that what he had been suffering as a result of his broken engagement was not really heartbreak as much as damaged ego. Considering how he felt about Haley, he doubted now that he had really been in love with Angela. Although there had been more predictability in their relationship, there was a lot less heat, and they had certainly never laughed together.

As Haley joyously hit another wrong note, Rand found himself, once again, laughing helplessly.

Chapter Twelve

Carrie triumphantly speared the last pancake as Haley and Rand threatened her with their forks. Carrie’s giggles rose above their laughter and drowned out the sound of the back door opening. They all turned as Elizabeth and Craig walked in holding hands. One look at their faces and Haley knew her plan had succeeded. They were positively glowing.

“Daddy!” Carrie jumped up and threw herself into her father’s open arms.

“How’s my girl?” her father asked, hugging her tightly.

Haley looked over their heads at Elizabeth, who was blinking back tears and she swallowed, trying to keep her own tears from welling up. She glanced across the table at Rand, who was watching the father and child with a look of cool detachment.

What a fake! Pretending he

s not moved by all this.
She was surprised at how much better she was at reading him.

Craig looked over his daughter’s head at Rand. “I’ll be taking my family home today, Rand.” He paused, waiting for a reaction.

Rand stood, and Haley saw Elizabeth tense.

Rand nodded at his brother-in-law, then offered his hand. “If that’s what Elizabeth wants, Craig, then that’s what I want for her.”

“Thank you, Rand.” Elizabeth, tears now flowing, stood on tiptoe to kiss her brother’s cheek. “Craig and I love each other and really want our marriage to work. I appreciate your making this easier for us. I want to thank you for taking care of Carrie and me all this time.” She buried her head against his chest, soaking his shirt with her tears.

Biting back her own tears, Haley watched Rand awkwardly pat his sister’s back then send a masculine signal over her head to Craig. She almost grinned at the solemn nod the men exchanged as Rand gently shoved his sister into the waiting arms of her husband.

“Why is Mommy crying?” Carrie asked.

Elizabeth looked up and laughed through her tears, “I’m crying because I’m happy, honey. You and I and Daddy are going to live together again.”

Carrie bounced on her toes and shook her head vigorously. “Cool. And Uncle Rand will have Haley to take care of him because she’s his love slave.”

“Love slave?” Elizabeth stared at her brother, whose face turned a dull red.

Haley felt the color rising in her own cheeks and directed a helpless glance at Rand. “It was a joke. She overheard something your brother said to me.”

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