A Wife by Accident Read online

  “Long enough.”

  Hayely took a moment to gather her wits as best she could. She composed herself quickly. He liked that, too.

  “Your eyes get green when you’re thinking evil thoughts.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her.

  “I stocked your bathroom with soaps and towels today. I thought you might want a hot shower after work.”

  Gary walked across the room and picked up the fallen paintbrush from its place on the newspaper-covered floor. He reached his arm around her.

  “You missed a spot.”

  “Thank you,” was all she said.

  Gary handed the brush back to her. She pulled her hand back quickly and almost dropped the brush again when his finger accidentally touched hers.

  Gary pondered the expression in her eyes. She wasn’t flirting, wasn’t fawning over him, but of course she wouldn’t—she didn’t even know the magnitude of his wealth if what Charlie said was right. She knew he owned an impressive house, was fairly well off and had cornered her into doing exactly what he wanted. Something other than attraction might turn those eyes of hers into shining silver that reflected his own face back to him. Maybe what he saw there was actually open dislike. Or fear. After all, he’d been tyrant enough to insist on an arrangement she couldn’t possibly enjoy.

  “Could we talk for a minute?” she asked, growing visibly uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

  He conceded with a nod. He wasn’t big on small talk, but he owed her in some way, didn’t he?

  “I know I froze during the ceremony,” she said. “But I just wanted you to know that I intend on living up to my end of the bargain.”

  “I know. From the looks of things, you’re doing an excellent job of it. I wouldn’t have thought of using blue in here. And Charlie mentioned something about a furniture shipment coming in a couple days.” He cleared his throat.

  Hayely looked at him for a moment, blinked and nodded. “I was thinking of doing the kitchen and your bedroom next,” she said at last.

  Gary nodded his approval. “Whatever you like. I think I mentioned you might need to be here during a couple dinner parties, too. After the décor is in place.”

  Hayely tucked her glossy hair back behind her ears. “I was meaning to ask you about that. Obviously, I’m keeping our arrangement from my family. And I’m not saying a word at work either. But, what if someone starts talking or if we have to be seen together somewhere public? I don’t know what you do for a living, but I get the impression people around here seem to know you.”

  “Ah.” Gary smiled—flashed what he thought was his best smile in fact.

  “My father would kill me and I’d probably get fired if people at my office found out.”

  “Fired for getting married?”

  “You don’t know my boss. Kathy Mark fires people for breathing wrong.”

  Gary had recognized the company name on Hayely’s sticky note and the truth was, he did know Kathy Mark. He’d met her a year or so ago at some local event and she’d persistently tried to get him to toss some business toward her little company ever since. He hadn’t given her much thought after instructing his executive assistant to answer all K. L. Mark correspondence with polite refusals, but it grated on him whenever he saw someone in authority mistreat people. He’d heard the rumors.

  “Well,” he said, “I don’t anticipate many nights out on the town for us. Low key is the plan.” He might have to rethink that plan. She really was pretty. He wouldn’t mind seeing her dressed to the hilt with her hair swept up off her neck and diamonds dripping off her earlobes. Maybe a few nights out with his new wife wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

  “Don’t get any wild ideas about staying in either,” Hayely countered. “I’m sure women fall at your feet. You’ll have to find one of them if you want—that.”

  “Believe me. I’m strictly business.” But his eyes never wavered from her.

  Hayely’s hand flew to her throat. Flushed. Conspicuous.

  “You look more and more like a mountain man every time I see you.”

  So maybe he ought to think about trimming his mop of wavy brown hair and maybe even take a razor to some of that stubble. He ran one hand over his square chin.

  “You might have a point.”

  “I think I’ll call it quits for the day if you don’t mind. I’ve got to get up early for work in the morning,” she said.

  When she got near him, Gary almost reluctantly turned to let her pass. A nagging thought pressed at him, one he hadn’t considered before. It wouldn’t seem right for her to be leaving the house just as darkness fell each day. Someone, some neighbor, would eventually notice the pattern. His worries were sidetracked as a whiff of vanilla and chocolate caught his attention.

  “Did you bake something?” He frowned and then smiled. No one had ever cooked in the big, empty house before. It made the place feel homey.

  Hayely shrugged nonchalantly on her way out. “I made chocolate chip cookies. They’re on a plate in the kitchen. Tomorrow I’m stocking up all the cupboards. People could starve to death around here.”

  With a smile and a sigh she shut the heavy front doors behind her.

  As soon as her car sputtered out of the driveway, Gary made a lumbering dash for the kitchen. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten hot, homemade chocolate chip cookies. Having a pretend wife had more advantages than he’d imaged—and he’d discovered a few more of them in one evening.

  Chapter Three

  At exactly quarter till eight in the morning, Hayely was already at her desk typing up a memo for Kathy when the woman herself walked by. With her hands hidden under her desk, Hayely quickly slipped the wedding band off her finger and into her purse. She felt ridiculous wearing it anyway.

  “Hayely,” she greeted without looking directly at her. Instead, her boss glanced at the clock and then briefly at Hayely’s desk before walking off down the hall.

  “Good morning.” Hayely felt the muscles in her neck and shoulders constrict. She could tell what kind of mood Kathy was in just by watching the way she walked, as if she were on her way to a matter of such importance that she had no time for civilities.

  Hayely had gotten to the office earlier than usual that morning so she could have her real work done in time to do a little research. With the Internet a click away, she wanted to see what she could find out about Gary Tarleton. Who was he exactly? She brought up the online version of the local newspaper and typed his name into the box for searches.

  And there it was. She’d sold herself to Nevada’s very own version of Donald Trump, and all for twelve thousand dollars that he would hardly miss after what she’d gleaned from the article. Not that the amount mattered, she cautioned herself. She’d broken that watch and it was her responsibility to pay for it.

  But still, Gary could have hired the best interior designer on the planet and rented a supermodel to pose as his wife for half a year. Why on earth would he want her? She gritted her teeth as the answer came: because she could be bought cheap and she owed him.

  Apparently, Mr. Gary Tarleton owned a number of architectural, engineering and construction firms all under the umbrella of his enormous local parent company—not to mention considerable stock in several large corporations and membership in all sorts of organizations. The man was a tycoon!

  No wonder Charlie had laughed at her uninformed comments. And no wonder Gary looked like a construction worker. He probably went down to one of his company’s sites from time to time and wanted to fit in with the crew.

  Hayely clicked on another link. “Wow,” she said aloud.

  In front of her was a picture of Gary she would never have imagined. Dressed to kill in a tuxedo, clean-shaven and with closely cropped hair, he was something closer to James Bond than the mountain man he’d resembled the day before. She peered closer at the picture.

  All the people standing in the background behind him faded before her eyes as one person came into focus. Kathy L. Mark. What were th
e odds her boss did business with her new husband? No, she would have seen some trace of that in all the papers that floated across her desk. But it was obvious Kathy at least knew who Gary was.

  Hayely shut down her Internet browser and a few seconds later an e-mail notice popped up on her screen. Kathy had written, “You need to tell me your work schedule. I believe you are to start at eight AM., but it was well past that when you arrived today. Please advise.”

  Hayely’s blood ran cold. She knew what this was. She’d seen Kathy use the same method on a marketing assistant who had resigned in tears just the week before. The woman was creating a false documentation trail to build a case for firing her. Of course, Kathy’s preferred outcome was to frustrate Hayely into quitting. Less legal hassle that way. What had she done to raise her boss’ ire so soon? She could only begin to imagine.

  With a dry lump in her throat, Hayely typed, “My schedule is still eight to five. When we greeted each other this morning at 7:45 AM, I assumed this was acceptable. Please let me know if you would like me to arrive earlier and I can adjust my schedule.”

  Even as she hit the send button, she knew her reply wouldn’t find its way into her personnel file the way Kathy’s initial accusatory e-mail would.

  With her bills stacking up on the kitchen table, Hayely had to survive at K. L. Mark Enterprises just five and a half more months. Smoothing the front of her skirt, she stood and began down the hall toward Kathy’s office to sort things out. If she’d learned anything, it was that her boss preened under flattery like none other and maybe she could buy her job a little more time that way even though it turned her stomach.

  As she walked to the end of the hall, hushed voices just around the corner stopped her in her tracks. Someone was talking about her, and not even the tone of voice was flattering.

  “And did you see what that Hayely idiot had on today?” Kathy’s voice hissed. “She looks like she dresses straight out of a thrift store. I’d die before being seen that way.”

  Hayely recognized the other female voice as that of the chief financial officer, one of a couple piranhas Kathy kept near her for support.

  “I know. That shirt looks like a man’s. Good thing she’s not sitting up at the front where people can see her—not that the new receptionist looks any better. I don’t think she’s going to work out any better than the last two.”

  Hayely had heard enough. She wished she could sail around the corner with her head held high, tell the two catty women what she thought of them and quit on the spot. But she couldn’t.

  She’d summoned a large dose of rebellious energy a month ago when she’d told her father she was moving out of the house and not entering medical school as he wished. She hated to get involved in another conflict, have another confrontation so soon after that fiasco. Besides, when she’d talked to her father, she’d at least known what she wanted. But what did she want now? A little basic on-the-job respect would be a good place to start.

  Her cheeks flushed heated crimson under the insults she’d just overheard. In spite of Gary’s etiquette shortcomings, he had been impressed enough with her taste to hire her. Now she wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. But she could at least bet Gary never doubted what he wanted. He seemed to know exactly how to get from point A to point B. Better yet, he knew what his point B was. Hayely thought she might take a page from his book when her six months were up.

  Even if she didn’t have to work for Kathy to pay the bills, where would she work? Life with her bottom in a chair behind a word processor didn’t suit her. The complete lack of creativity bored her to tears.

  She didn’t quite think she was built to be a construction worker, either. She smiled to herself. Not like Gary was built. She breathed in and out, letting the urge to confront Kathy pass.

  The hours limped by in agony before it was time for Hayely to leave the office. She breathed an enormous sigh of relief and drove straight for Gary’s house. She’d put in several more large, expensive furniture orders during her lunch break and wanted to get some more painting done before it all arrived. She could decorate the house easily in the given time frame and was surprised at how she enjoyed it. She loved the way her mind could wander into memories and ideas while she painted.

  She walked in through a side door and headed for the kitchen after kicking her shoes off along the way. No sooner than she’d stepped through the door, the refrigerated delivery truck from the grocery store pulled into the driveway. Perfect timing, she thought with a smile.

  Bag after bag, the driver carried the groceries inside. The kitchen floor was soon heaped with crackling brown paper bags and soft white plastic ones. She didn’t know what sorts of food Gary might like, but she knew what she preferred. And, after all, Charlie had told her to do whatever she liked.

  In the corner below some cabinets, Gary had built in something of a closet lined with cool cement. Hayely smiled. This was the equivalent of a root cellar brought indoors. She loaded it up with bottles of wine and bags of potatoes and onions. These things would stay just the right temperature there, she guessed.

  She turned and opened up one of the shiny double doors of the copper-faced refrigerator. Hayely whistled low. She could fit enough food in there to feed a small country. The bags of fresh fruit and vegetables were quickly stored away in the gold-labeled glass drawers inside.

  Next she looked at the big bags of flour, corn meal, sugar, powdered milk and a variety of other gourmet baking essentials. They would fit perfectly in one of the lower cabinets. And then there were the canned goods …

  In less than an hour, Hayely had a kitchen stocked full of all the foods she thought a kitchen should have. Then she began to make dinner. Days were growing longer as spring neared, but at last the sunlight had begun to fade for the evening.

  She set some potatoes to boil. The house seemed strangely lonely and far too quiet without Gary there. Of course, he didn’t talk much when he was there. But still, she almost hoped he would come home early just to give her something to take her mind off the lousy day she’d had.

  “Home? What a stupid word to even think,” she said aloud to herself. This wasn’t her home. She shouldn’t kid herself for a second about that. No sense getting too cozy. As soon as the six months were up, Gary would give her that promised ten-thousand-dollar bonus and send her on her not-so-merry way back to the small apartment that really was her home.

  •

  Gary stood inside the foyer and grinned when he saw Hayely’s shoes kicked off in the corner. She was always so timid about scuffing the marble floor. He should have designed a log cabin with floors people could track dirt in on, but the architectural artist in him had gotten carried away and designed the house he’d pictured in fairy tales. He unlaced his big work boots and set them down beside her little black pumps.

  An amazing, heavenly smell drifted to him as he lined up his boots. These were not the usual smells of paint and plaster; this was the aroma of a good old-fashioned home cooked meal. How many years had it been since he’d had one of those? He couldn’t even remember.

  He walked into the kitchen and plunked himself down wearily at the table. Hayely heaped his plate full of food and smiled at him. His nose had a black smudge on it and there was a ragged tear above the pocket on one of his white T-shirts.

  “You shaved,” she noticed. Her gaze scanned the planes of his face and he saw her hands tremble just so slightly.

  He looked up at her with curiosity as she set a bowl full of mashed potatoes, a platter of asparagus wrapped in bacon, and another dish of poached salmon down in front of him.

  “You don’t have to cook for me, you know. That wasn’t part of the deal.” He gazed up at her and thought he caught something wistful in her expression.

  Hayely stood next to him. “I don’t mind. It’s nice to be able to do something that someone else appreciates. Especially after eight long hours at that office.”

  He took a huge fork full of fluffy potatoes and gulped them do
wn. “I was getting sick of fast food. And I can’t cook worth a darn.” He shoveled in more potatoes after swirling in some more butter.

  “Well, I’m glad you’re happy. I’ll be painting the living room if you need anything.” She started to walk around him when he caught her.

  His fingers closed gently around her wrist. “You’re not going to eat?” he asked with only the faintest hint of disappointment and then quickly resumed his former manner.

  “You’d want me to? With you, I mean?” She looked from his green-brown eyes to his hand at her wrist.

  “Absolutely.” He released his loose hold and gestured brusquely to the seat across from him. “I’d like to talk with you.”

  “You would? I didn’t think you’d want to converse with the hired help.” The gleam in her eyes showed that she teased.

  He nodded and swallowed his food. “Why wouldn’t I? We all have to suffer through meetings sometimes. You’re not the exception.”

  She sat down and helped herself to some asparagus. “You told me you didn’t want conversation or questions.”

  He smiled wickedly. “You paid attention to that? I said a lot of things in that sentence I should amend.”

  “Well, you don’t generally seem to be the talkative type. Anyway, it doesn’t matter.”

  “What type do I seem?” he asked.

  Hayely’s hand shook again as she picked up her fork. “I didn’t mean anything bad. We just haven’t exactly spoken much.”

  He propped his muscular arm up on the tabletop. “I figure if I don’t know a person or don’t like a person, there’s not really much need for small talk.”

  She rolled her head side to side and relaxed. “Guess I must have passed the test.”

  “This fish is delicious,” he said with a sound of appreciation low in his throat. After a steady week of hamburgers and fast food tacos, a salmon dinner was just short of heaven. “Actually, I wanted to talk with you about something in specific.”

  “Okay.”

  “You need to move into this house with me,” he declared with a casual shrug.