Wife For Hire. Amy J. Fetzer
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yards away, the woman’s steps slowed to a stop, and Nash felt suddenly uneasy, a sense of familiarity hitting him. His gaze swept over her, searching for a connection.
“Nash?”
His blood froze and he straightened. He’d know that voice anywhere. Hayley Albright. His Hayley. “What are you doing here?”
She cocked one hip, her fingers tightening on the strap of a beat-up leather handbag slung on her shoulder. “If this is Katherine’s idea of a joke, I don’t like it.”
“Me, neither.” Nash’s insides twisted, his heart pressing against his ribs. Seven years ago he’d loved this woman. And seven years ago he’d betrayed that love and married another. He could never tell her why. Never. Yet one look at her and every cell in his body reacted, screaming for her. His blood grew hot and heavy in his veins as he stepped off the porch, walking toward her. It had always been like that, so good it was almost painful to be near her. She was the kind of woman who made heads turn as much for her confidence as for her beauty. The kind who made you smile just because she smiled.
The kind he’d wanted to marry.
Hayley felt memories of her past flow back as he neared, meshing with the old pain. She tried to push them aside, tried to gather her composure, but he was looking at her the way he had years ago. As if he wanted to devour her whole. It made her knees weak. She wanted to turn back to her car and drive away to avoid opening this part of her past again. It hurt too much. When he approached and stopped directly in front of her, the urge to throw herself into his arms made her eyes sting. It made her see that even if she told herself she was over him, she wasn’t. Not by a long shot. Out of sight didn’t mean out of mind—or heart. And if she stayed, she’d be in trouble.
Then he plucked off her sunglasses.
She snatched them back and met his gaze head on, searching for the man she once loved.
“You’re working for Katherine’s company?”
“A girl’s got to make a living.”
His lips flattened to a thin line. “What about your dream to be a doctor?”
She hitched up her handbag and said, “Still there. I just finished my internship. After a two-week break, I’ll go back to St. Anthony’s Hospital to begin my residency.”
“That’s great.” His smile was slight, bitter, and Hayley felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach. Her need to be a doctor and his need to have her abandon her goal in order to be his wife had torn holes in their love and sent him into the arms of another woman.
“Somehow I don’t think that’s what you really mean,” she said.
His gaze narrowed. “I never wanted you to fail, Hayley.”
“No, just dump my dreams for yours.”
His features yanked taut. This conversation was just too difficult for public discussion, for what he was feeling, what he wanted to say to her. What he wanted to do with her. He caught the scent of jasmine, feeling it sing through his veins and make him ache to hold her. “It is good to see you.”
The low tone of his voice evoked heat and the sensation of being safely wrapped in warmth. “Good to be seen,” she managed and searched his face for any changes. They were minor, for he’d aged beautifully, the lines in his face giving it more character, a harder look than she remembered. At thirty-five he was as handsome as he was when she’d first seen him at a college mixer in her senior year. He’d arrived with his friend Katherine Davenport, Hayley’s sorority sister, mentor and owner of Wife Incorporated, just as a favor, and he’d left with Hayley. He was the older man, rich and powerful, who’d swept her off her feet and into his strong capable arms. She sighed, pushing the memory down where it belonged. She’d been a fool, falling for him hook, line and sinker, and she wasn’t about to let it happen again.
They stared at each other for a moment longer before Hayley asked the one question she didn’t want to say. “So, where’s Michelle?”
His features hardened. “She’d dead, Hayley. Killed in a car accident four years ago.”
“I’m sorry.” She was. Hayley might have a grudge against Michelle and Nash, but she certainly didn’t wish his wife dead.
“You know her, Daddy?” a voice asked.
Hayley stepped away and looked at the girls standing on the porch. While her assignment sheet offered only a street address, not a name—which she’d rail at Kat later for omitting—the job was detailed and she’d expected children. She smiled and waved. “Oh, Nash,” she said softly, in a tone full of surprise. “They look just like you.”
He didn’t take his eyes off her, enjoying her unrestrained smile. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”
She glanced. “Good,” she said honestly as the twins trotted down the wide Federal steps and flanked their father.
“These two beauties,” he said, ruffling the top of one dark head, “are Kim and Kate.”
“I’m Hayley,” she said, and shook their little hands. “And yes, your daddy and I are old friends.” She gave them a conspiratorial wink that made the five-year-olds giggle.
Nash felt the tension leave her body as if he owned her skin, and he was glad that any animosity she had for him didn’t spill over to his girls. How were they going to work this out? How long could he stand having her in his house, living with him, seeing her every day and knowing she hated him? It was a humiliation he’d continue to bear in silence. Keeping the truth from her would keep any feelings from being resurrected, he decided. And asking her to leave would be his best bet.
She swung her gaze to his, tipped her head to the side as if studying a painting. Her lips curved into a soft smile that caught him in the gut and threatened the seams of his anger.
Hayley sensed it and frowned. What did he have to be so mad about? She was the one who was jilted, while he’d had everything he wanted. A beautiful wife with culture, wealth and the same refinement he possessed. A perfect complement to the rich powerful landowner he’d become. “I can see you’re not happy about this,” she said, “so how about I call Kat and have another wife for hire here by morning?”
His eyes flared. The challenge was there. Nash had to admire her for it. Even when he wanted her gone. Just seeing her made his mistakes more pronounced. They felt like a knife in his side, and every time their eyes met, it twisted.
“Did you like our daddy?” one of the twins interjected.
Their curiosity was open and charming, yet Hayley could feel their father tense, feel his eyes on her as she looked down at the girls. “I thought he was the handsomest man on earth.”
The twins giggled again, huddling closer. Nash glanced down and their smiles fell a little. He supposed he deserved their retreat with the way he’d been barking at them all week; but Mrs. Winslow was off sick, and he had hundreds of horses, cattle, pigs, chickens and two brunette mischief makers roaming where they weren’t supposed to. Plus he’d had all his other duties to attend to. Bless their hearts, he loved his babies, but they were a full-time job. He eyed Hayley, wondering if she could keep up with his pair of tornadoes.
“I can handle the situation,” Nash said. “Can you?”
The challenge was there, she thought. He should know better than to dare her. “No sweat.”
“Fine,” he said, then turned and walked toward the house.
“Ooh, attitude already.”
He paused and looked back at her, arching a dark brow. She smiled brightly, motioning for him to lead the way. The twins were already stuck to her side and sharing secrets. Great. Outnumbered already, he thought sourly, pushing open the front door. He stepped into the coolness of the house, the girls skipping past him into the den and clicking on the television.
He