Come Home To Love (Harlequin Signature Select)

by Joan Hohl

"What you're saying is you want to employ a wife."

  An edge of sharpness entered his voice. "Not at all. I can hire a housekeeper-hostess. I can engage a traveling companion. I can pay a woman to sleep with me at X number of dollars for so many days or weeks or months. What I'm offering you in return for fulfilling my requirements is the legality of marriage with all that entails; a home and security along with anything you want, within reason, for the rest of your life."

  What if he later met someone and fell in love? She hadn't even bothered to put the thought into words. From what she'd heard about his dealings with women and from his own words of a few minutes ago that contingency seemed unlikely.

  "Matt, I don't think—" she began softly, when his sharp, raspy voice cut in. "Katherine, you agreed to think it over. You may take as much or as little time as you like, but at least give it your consideration overnight."

  While he was speaking he walked across the room to her small desk where her phone sat, a note pad beside it Picking up the pencil alongside, he wrote on the pad, continuing, 'This is my office number. When you've reached a decision, call me. No explanations will be necessary either way, a simple yes or no will do."

  Lifting the receiver he punched out a number, waited, then said, Tm ready." He turned from the desk, slinging

  the jacket that had hung on the back of the desk chair over his shoulder, and walked toward the door. "I'm going. You're tired and have some thinking to do. If I were you I'd think it over very carefully, Katherine. Don't get up, I'll see myself out."

  He was gone, just like that, no good night or goodbye. He just went.

  Katherine sat staring at the door, lips slightly parted, stunned. The arrogance of the man was overwhelming. Think about it indeed. She had no need to think about it. The answer was no, period. He had been right about one thing, she was tired.

  She tidied the apartment, washed and changed quickly, then dropped onto her bed to lie wide-eyed, thinking. Hours later, beginning to feel as if her rumpled bed was smothering her, she went into the living room, pacing back and forth in the darkness. She smoked one cigarette after the other, made a pot of coffee and drank it, cup cradled in her hands, still pacing.

  At dawn she stood at her window watching as life slowly came back to the city. Her mind had circled and dodged around his words all night, and now, finally, she faced the cold, hard facts.

  He had said she was tired and that was true. What he hadn't known was how tired, both physically and mentally. The reason was not, as he had probably assumed, overwork. She had suddenly realized she was facing her fortieth year. Her children were grown, no longer needing her. In a few more years Tom would be out of school and gone. She would be alone except for the now and then visits. The prospect terrified her. She had been on her own, of course, a long time but with two children to

  raise her life had had purpose. Now it stretched in bleak emptiness in front of her.

  She had her work, true, but she could not spend twenty-four or even sixteen hours a day in her office. And what else was there?

  She had no doubt as to her ability to fulfill Matt's requirements, except one. On her hesitation about that she chided herself gently. She had been a wife. Had performed that particular act without any great discomfort. And even though it had been over eighteen years, surely she could manage to share a man's bed with composure. Couldn't she?

  Around and around her thoughts flew, always to come back to the same fact. Almost anything was better than living the rest of her life alone.

  At nine-thirty she moved from the window to her desk, back straightening unconsciously. Glancing at the boldly scrawled numbers on the otherwise pure white paper, she lifted the phone and punched out the numbers. A bright, alert voice answered on the second ring. "Good morning, Martin Corporation. May I help you?"

  Katherine drew a deep breath before replying calmly, "Yes, may I speak to Mr. Martin please."

  "I'm sorry," the bright voice said. "Mr. Martin is in conference. Who's calling and is there a message?"

  Fighting down the urge to say no thank you and hang up, she answered. "This is Katherine Acker, and there is no—"

  The voice breaking in had become somehow even more alert. "Oh! Mrs. Acker, just a minute please." A click, a pause, then another click and Matt quietly rasped, "Yes, Katherine?"

  He had said no explanations needed, so she repeated him changing the name. "Yes, Matt."

  Silence, silence that stretched at her already taut nerves. Had he thought better of if? Changed his mind? The doubt was dispelled with his first word. "Good. Are you in the office?"

  "No." How had she ever managed to keep her tone so cool? "I didn't go in. I'm at home."

  "Stay there. I'll come for you and take you to lunch. Will one be all right?" She could read no emotion whatever in his voice.

  "Yes, fine."

  "Right. One o'clock, then." The line went dead. Did this man never say goodbye?

  The following days would forever after be somewhat of a blur in Katherine's mind. At exactly one o'clock the big car, Matt driving himself, stopped in front of the apartment. Katherine, waiting in the small foyer, left the building quickly calling, "Don't get out," as his door swung open. She slid onto the seat next to him and without a word of greeting he pulled the car into the line of traffic, thus beginning a chain of events that left her breathless in their snowballing swiftness.

  Matt drove first to the bureau of licenses where they filled out the appropriate form. From there to a small private clinic where they were given, separately, the required examinations and tests. Then, finally, he took her to lunch at a small restaurant along a route very familiar to her, as she had driven back and forth along it countless times over the years, visiting her parents.

  During lunch he had taken her hand into his, slid off the broad gold band, which she had never removed, saying calmly, "If it causes you any pain not to wear it

  at all, I have no objections to you wearing it on your right hand." Then slowly replaced it with a jelly-bean sized marquis-cut diamond solitaire set in platinum.

  Katherine sat staring at the stone, speechless, for some minutes before murmuring in an awe-hushed tone, "I can't wear this, I'd be afraid of losing it."

  "Nonsense," he snapped. "I chose it for you and you'll wear it. Besides which it's insured, so don't concern yourself about it."

  She sighed her defeat. The ring remained on her finger. When they left the restaurant, the car again pointed in a direction away from Philadelphia, Matt's voice probed gently into her background. She realized the reason for his probing when, reaching Lancaster, he parked the car in front of the church that she had attended as a girl, had become Kevin's wife in, which her parents still attended.

  She turned a questioning look at Matt, not at all sure of the lightness of being married in church under the circumstances.

  He read the feeling correctly, face void of all expression, saying, "We'll keep it small and quiet, but I have no wish to offend either your parents or my own. I think this was best."

  Doubts lingered but Katherine had nodded her consent. Then she had been ushered from the car, along the short walk and into the pastor's office.

  To her surprise the Reverend Mr. Keller, quite old now, was waiting for them. He spoke briefly to Katherine in his soft, gentle voice before turning to Matt. Some fifteen minutes later they were back outside walking to the car when she stopped short, turning to him with the first stirrings of panic. "This Saturday, Matt?"

  He didn't answer until they were again seated inside the car. His tone indicating he understood her unease he explained, "I know this seems hasty and although I don't want you to feel in any way rushed, this coming weekend would be the best time for me. I managed to clear my desk this morning, something that doesn't happen often, due to the holiday falling at the weekend making it a long one. By the middle of next week it will be covered again and there are things in the works that will probably keep me running through the summer and into the fall. Is the
re any reason you cannot be away from your office for a few days?"

  "No," she had barely managed to whisper.

  "All right then," he'd stated with finality, "we'll get it over with this Saturday."

  She started to shake her head but hesitated, deciding to be prudent, at the hard glint that sprang into his eyes.

  "Yes, thank you, a martini please." The tight lines around his mouth softened as he turned and walked to the small bar across the room. Tone now mild, almost conciliatory, he said, "Arguing has gotten us absolutely nowhere but we had better damned well talk this through to some sort of agreement or the kids are going to have one uncomfortable weekend here."

  His words brought her upright. He was right, of course. Janice and Tom had no idea of the true relationship between Matt and herself, but unless this strain between them was erased it would not take very long for them to get wise to it. She had also registered the fact that, for the first time since their marriage, Matt had referred to her children as the kids.

  "Yes, I know," she answered distractedly, taking the glass he held out to her. She sipped at the expertly mixed martini, watching him take a long drink from his usual mixture of Michter's and club soda. Emotions firmly under control again, she asked coolly, "What do you expect me to say, Matt?"

  "I don't expect anything from you, Katherine. I had hoped you'd use your common sense and see things as they are," he replied icily. "The car, the dinner, my sending the plane for Janice and Carlos are accomplished facts. If you remain angry about it forever, it will still be an accomplished fact. So I suggest you shake yourself out of this resentful mood and enjoy your children's pleasure in the weekend."

  He polished off his drink, sat the glass down then moved to stand close to her, his body not quite touching hers. Raising his hand his fingers caught her chin,

  lifting her head so he could study the tight, withdrawn look on her face.

  He sighed as if in extreme weariness, then, his tone softening, he said, 'This arrangement of ours hasn't worked out all that badly, and it would be even better if it weren't for that damned fierce independent streak of yours."

  His words, though mildly condemning, were spoken in a soft drawl, soothing her irritation. She shivered as one long finger was drawn slowly down her cheek. His voice, now a low rasp, murmured, "We now have the most important factor going for us, Kate. We are very good together in bed."

  She went cold, stiffening under his hands. "The most important factor," she repeated incredulously. "There are more important things in marriage than sex, Matt."

  "Name one," he replied sardonically, his eyes laughing at her.

  "There's love and respect and consideration and the true desire to spend your life with that one person," she snapped, offended by his tone.

  "I'll tell you something, sweetheart," his voice cut into her, "I know people who have all those higher feelings for one another and you know what? Their marriages are nowhere, and do you know why? Because they haven't got it in bed, and if it doesn't work there, it doesn't work at all. The idea, of course, is to have it all, but that happens very rarely."

  Not willing to begin arguing all over again, she turned away abruptly, only to be caught roughly by his hand and turned back again, into his arms. Holding her loosely without effort, his voice took on a caressing note. "I said earlier tonight that you resent everything

  about me. That wasn't quite true. Tell me you resent the feel of my hands on your body." He matched his words with action, moving his hands caressingly from the back of her neck to her shoulders then slowly down her back, along her hipline. 'Tell me you resent the feel of my body, hard and urgent against yours." Muscles tightening, his arms drew her close to him. His lips close to hers, whispered, 'Tell me you resent what my kisses do to your senses."

  Without waiting for her to answer his mouth took hers in a kiss deliberately designed to arouse. Its purpose was achieved for before he lifted his mouth from hers, her hands had come up to his shoulders, clinging to him weakly. Fighting back the words of love that trembled on her lips, she whispered, "You don't fight fair."

  Laughing softly, his lips close to her ear, he rasped, "I fight to win. Be reasonable, Katherine, bury your resentment this time. Relax and let the kids enjoy the benefits of my money. It's honestly earned and freely given." His mouth again covered hers in a kiss even more reason-destroying than the first.

  Her voice was a barely whispered plea. "Matt, please."

  He had won and he knew it. His mouth touching hers murmured, "It will give me pleasure to please you, Kate."

  Bending, he slid his arm under her knees, lifting her easily into his arms. In defeat, she curled her arms around his neck tightly, turned her face into his neck, her lips pressed to the strong column of his throat. Carrying her easily, as if she weighed no more than a child, he walked slowly to their bedroom.

  Katherine woke during the night filled with a growing sense of self-betrayal. He had won by default.

  As before, since becoming aware of her response to and growing need of his strong, physical attraction, he had used his body to bring her to heel. What made her squirm inside was the ease with which he did it. It had not always been this way. This thought sent her mind spinning once again into the past.

  On leaving the church that Tuesday, they had gone to the home of his parents. Katherine had been introduced to a fairly tall woman who spoke in a no-nonsense tone that was belied by the softness around the mouth and eyes. Matt's father, thin to the point of gaunt-ness, stood almost as tall as Matt himself with the same shock of auburn hair, liberally sprinkled with gray, and eyes as direct and piercing. He held himself ramrod straight, his face revealing the triumph over pain and disability.

  She warmed to their down-to-earth attitude, answering questions quietly, honestly. They accepted their son's statement that he was remarrying and his choice of partner without question, their eyes revealing their admiration if not out-and-out adoration of him.

  They had stayed to have supper with Mr. and Mrs. Martin, then left soon after as Katherine had phoned her own parents saying she had something to tell them and would be at the house by early evening.

  As she left Matt's parents' home, after a typically mouthwatering Pennsylvania Dutch meal of chicken potpie and a sour salad, Katherine thought they epitomized the character of the Pennsylvania Dutch people. Strong, self-willed, a facade of reserve covering warm, friendly hearts. Their vocabulary did not contain the words "give up."

  Glancing up through her lashes at Matt's strong fea-

  tures, a small smile played around her mouth as she recalled her father's oft-repeated definition of his fellow Pennsylvania Dutchmen. "A bunch of bullheads, all of us, without the vaguest idea of the meaning of the world quit."

  Matt, she decided, was a prime example.

  Her own parents received the news as calmly as Mart's had. While her mother had gently questioned, her father had studied Matt and his answers intently, then both seemed to reach a decision simultaneously. That of approval of him, and relief that finally, their only daughter would have someone to care for her.

  It was late when they arrived back at her apartment. Matt parked the car and went to the door with her then asked quietly, "Are you going into your office tomorrow?"

  "Yes," she had answered wearily.

  "I won't come in, you're just about beat. Can you manage a long lunch?"

  She nodded, almost too tired to speak.

  "All right. I'll be outside your building at twelve-thirty." His tone sharpened slightly. "I think you'd better go right to bed, you look about to cave in."

  "I am tired," she admitted, not mentioning her lack of sleep the night before.

  He was waiting in the back seat of the long car the following day, papers spread around him. John was standing on the sidewalk holding the door and as he handed her inside she said in surprise, "I thought you had cleared your desk!"

  "Always something," came his withdrawn, preoccupied reply.

  Shr
ugging lightly she turned to glance out the window wondering idly where they were having lunch.

  A few minutes later she turned to him questioningly as

  the car bumped onto the ramp and down into the garage. He closed his briefcase with a snap before glancing up. "My place. I thought you might like to see it."

  "Of course," she'd murmured uneasily, her nerves beginning to tighten. She had slept well and had awakened that morning feeling refreshed and ready to face whatever new surprises Matt had in store for her, she had thought. Now she wasn't so sure.

  On entering the apartment the ease with which she'd greeted the morning began to fade, for waiting for them was a woman in her early thirties and a man a few years older. She had not noticed them at first, the black and white starkness taking all her attention.

  The motion of the woman's fingers tapping the arm of her chair, the man turning from the window to face the room, brought Katherine alert with an odd warning tingle at the base of her spine.

  Matt's hand gripped her elbow as he led her into the room at the same time as the woman stood up abruptly and said in agitation, "Why the sudden summons, Matt? I had to break a luncheon date."

  His voice revealing no trace of sympathy, Matt answered. "Sorry. I asked you here to meet Katherine. Katherine Acker, my sister, Elizabeth Tarrel, and my brother, James."

  The woman's pretty face wore a trace of suspicion and for one uncomfortable moment Katherine was afraid Beth was going to ignore the hand she'd offered as she said, "How do you do?" Then Beth touched her fingers briefly echoing her own words.

  James had come across the room and as Beth's fingers fell away Katherine's hand was swallowed in a

  warm, firm clasp. The warmth of his hand was matched by his voice. "A pleasure to meet you, Katherine Acker."

  Katherine's hand was still in his, his last word barely out of his mouth when Matt said smoothly, "Katherine has just agreed to become my wife."