Hired Bride

by Jackie Merritt

  It amazed Zane how much he didn’t want Gwen mad at him. He’d have to get past her anger from their last conversation somehow, and then convince her to see him long enough to have a discussion. Surely he was smart enough to figure out a way to accomplish that.

  Eventually an idea gelled. About a week after Gwen hung up on him, Zane stopped at Heather’s desk on his way into his own office.

  “Good morning, Zane,” she said.

  “Morning,” he replied with a deliberately reflective expression, a serious expression, as though a dilemma of great consequence was on his mind.

  “Is something wrong?” Heather asked.

  “Well…I suppose there is,” Zane said slowly. “I’ve been trying to speak to Gwen Hutton for days without any luck. She’s an expert at refinishing furniture, and I have several pieces…” Zane paused briefly. “That wouldn’t matter, except that I’m planning a big party over the Christmas holidays and would like everything in the house to be perfect.”

  “Oh,” Heather murmured, sounding as though she’d expected to hear something of importance, and his trivial little problem really didn’t deserve the long face he was wearing.

  Realizing that he was laying it on a bit thick, Zane grinned. “Anyhow, since Gwen is obviously unimpressed with my attempts to speak to her and won’t return my calls, I’d like you to make contact with her and give her a message for me.”

  “I’ll certainly try,” Heather said, and picked up a pen. “What is the message?”

  “I would like her to meet me at my home at four this afternoon so I can show her the pieces that need refinishing. We’ll discuss the particulars at that time, and the whole thing shouldn’t take more than twenty, thirty minutes. It’s important that you stress the fact that I do not intend to take up much of her time. Uh, tell her that I have a five o’clock business appointment.”

  Heather looked up from her pad with a startled expression. “I don’t have anything for five in your appointment book. How did I miss—”

  “You didn’t. This just came up, and it—it’s, uh, only partially business. Nothing to concern yourself about, Heather.” Zane glanced at his watch. “I’d better get to work. Please try to reach Gwen right away, and if you don’t succeed, please keep trying.”

  “Yes, I’ll do that.”

  Zane felt his secretary’s curiosity-filled eyes on his back all the way to his office door. Going in, he shut the door behind himself and sighed. Why wouldn’t Heather be curious? She’d worked for him long enough to know that when a piece of furniture in his house started showing signs of wear, he replaced it. Since he wasn’t into antiques, collectibles or priceless originals, everything in his house was easily replaceable.

  But he’d racked his brain for a logical excuse for Heather to spend most of the day trying to get hold of Gwen for him, and the furniture idea had seemed best.

  Now, he thought while seating himself at his desk, all he had to do was wait for Heather to tell him that she had talked to Gwen and the four o’clock appointment at his house was fine.

  He was positive Heather would succeed where he had failed.

  When Gwen checked Help-Mate’s answering machine around ten that morning and heard that Heather needed to speak to her, she phoned at once.

  “This is Gwen Hutton, Heather. What’s up?”

  “Oh, Gwen. Thanks for calling back so quickly. I have a message from Zane for you. Apparently he has some furniture that needs refinishing. He would like you to meet him at his house at four this afternoon so he can show you which pieces and also to discuss the particulars. I assume that means price and timing and such. At any rate, he has a busy schedule this afternoon and can only give you about twenty or thirty minutes to go over the work. May I tell him you’ll be there?”

  Gwen was flabbergasted. In spite of her little garage business, she was far from being an expert on the fine art of putting new finishes on furniture. And, every single thing in Zane’s gorgeous house had to have been outrageously expensive. Why on earth would he trust her with his costly things?

  “Heather, I really don’t…um, understand,” she finally stammered.

  “You don’t understand what?”

  While Heather said those four words, two others flashed through Gwen’s mind: Christmas money!

  Hastily she backtracked. “Uh, forget it. Tell Zane I’ll meet him at four.”

  “Good.”

  “Heather, you’re sure he said only twenty or thirty minutes?”

  “Positive. He has a five o’clock business meeting.”

  “Fine. Thanks for the call.” Gwen hung up, worried some about destroying instead of improving Zane’s excellent furniture, then worried a little about going to his home at all. But she thought again about Christmas, and how great it would be to have some extra money to spend on her kids. She daydreamed about a lovely Christmas for a while, then switched gears again. She had already damaged Zane’s car; the thought of ruining some of his furniture gave her cold chills.

  Okay, here’s what you’ll do. After you see what furniture he wants refinished, if you think you can handle it, you’ll take the job. Otherwise, you’ll tell him no, that he should hire a professional. Since he has a five o’clock appointment, you won’t be at his house for long and he’s not apt to try anything funny. Just play it cool and keep things impersonal.

  Regardless of all that common sense, Gwen couldn’t help being on edge the rest of the day. It angered her that almost every one of her daily decisions, both the big ones and the small ones, were influenced by money. In her heart she knew she should not be going to Zane’s house when he was there, but she needed money for Christmas, and so she had to ignore her heart’s warnings. She had to ignore the weakness she had for Zane. She had to forget the feelings she kept trying to bury so deeply that they would never surface again, and the memories she would be so much better off not having. She had to drive up to his house and go inside, talk business with him, and act as though nothing personal had ever passed between them. If he could do it—and she believed he could, considering his almost ruthless reputation with women—then so could she.

  That was the thought she clung to during the drive to his house that afternoon. If he can do it, so can I. Though she couldn’t help wincing when she saw his vehicle on the circular driveway, she forced herself to park her van right behind it instead of going round back, where she usually parked. Then she got out, bravely walked to the front door and rang the bell.

  She had not changed clothes purposely or done anything special to her hair or makeup. She was not there for anything but business, and something as simple as fresh lipstick just might make Zane think otherwise. It was an awful feeling not to trust herself, but if Zane did try something, she was honestly afraid she couldn’t say no.

  Taking in a huge breath of air so she would appear calm and collected when he opened the door, she pushed the doorbell again. She could faintly hear the elegant chimes from inside the house, and wondered, a bit impatiently, what was taking Zane so long to come to the door.

  In fact, Zane had come to the door, then had been almost paralyzed by complete and utter confusion. He was standing in the foyer wondering how on earth he was going to talk to Gwen about such a delicate matter without destroying any chance they had. Gwen—ha, ha—I told your dad I was going to propose marriage, but I don’t know why I said that and—ha, ha—isn’t it just about the funniest thing you’ve ever heard?

  There was nothing funny about it, and Zane was furious with himself for even hoping that Gwen would laugh. He sure as hell wasn’t laughing. He felt like a total jerk, in fact. Getting Gwen to come here with lies was unforgivable.

  You had no choice. She wouldn’t talk to you on the phone.

  That, at least, was the truth, which eased some of Zane’s tension. Putting on a more relaxed face, he opened the door. “Hi. Thanks for coming.”

  “You’re welcome.” Gwen stepped into the foyer, and Zane closed the door. The second she saw him she felt ho
t and achy in places where she shouldn’t be feeling anything. Not only that, but her mind went into overdrive and dredged up again every detail of their incredible lovemaking. It was not the most propitious start for a business meeting.

  She cleared her throat. “Which room contains the pieces you were thinking of having redone?”

  “The pool room.” That ludicrous answer had come out of nowhere.

  “The pool room?” Gwen echoed in surprise. “The swimming pool room?”

  “Uh, yeah, I moved some things into it.” Zane was thinking clearly again, and as hard as it had been to get Gwen here alone, he wasn’t going to let her leave without some conversation. “It’s locked,” he told her. “We’ll go through the kitchen, and I’ll get the key.”

  “Fine,” she agreed, and followed him unquestioningly.

  But once inside the pool room, she became very questioning, because he locked the door behind them and then tucked the key into his pants pocket.

  “What’re you doing?” she demanded. “Why did you lock the door?” She glanced around. “And where’s the furniture you want refinished?”

  Zane leaned his back against the door. “There is no furniture. I mean, there’s none that I want refinished. You’re here so we can talk.”

  Gwen’s eyes narrowed menacingly. “You had Heather lie to get me here?”

  “No, I lied to Heather to get you here. Let me remind you that I would not have had to resort to such a drastic measure if you hadn’t slammed the phone down in my ear.”

  “Then of course your lies and my being here is all my fault.” Her voice rose. “Is there anything you wouldn’t do to satisfy a whim? You may be a Fortune, but that doesn’t give you the right to control or manipulate my life. Unlock that door and let me out of here.”

  “Sorry, but I can’t do that.”

  “If you dare to stand there and act calm and—and like everything is just peachy…when I’m ready to explode over your deceit, I swear I’ll…I’ll…” Gwen stopped sputtering, because what could she do?

  She walked over to the diving board and sat down. “You know, this could be construed as kidnapping,” she said with fire in her eyes. If he got near the edge of the pool, she was going to knock him into the water. He at least deserved to get wet for this fiasco, and if he dunked her in retaliation, so be it, but she really believed that she was fast enough on her feet to stay out of his reach. “And don’t think I won’t find out for sure and file charges if it is, because the minute I leave here I’m driving straight to the nearest police station.”

  “You’d have me arrested?”

  “In a New York minute.”

  Zane rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “Hmm. Can’t say I’d like to go to jail just for stealing a few minutes of your time.” He took the key from his pocket. “Okay, you can leave. Here’s the key. Catch!” He tossed it at her.

  Gwen leaped up and tried to catch it but she missed, and it fell in the water. “Look what you’ve done!” she screeched. “Now it’s at the bottom of the pool.”

  Zane walked to the edge of the pool, hunkered down and peered into the water. “Yep, you’re right. There it is.”

  “You knew I wouldn’t catch it! You did that on purpose!”

  “I did not,” Zane said, sounding boyishly hurt that she would accuse him of something so sneaky.

  “You big phony,” she seethed, and realized that he was still very close to the pool’s edge and practically on his knees. Rushing forward with her hands extended, she hit him hard and he tumbled headfirst into the pool. Only he didn’t go alone. How he did it she would never know, but one of his hands closed around her ankle and she went sailing into the water along with him.

  She came up sputtering. “Just wait till I get out of here. You are in big trouble.”

  His response was to dive beneath the water, take her by the legs and pull her under. Again she came up sputtering and yelling, and again he pulled her down, this time clear to the bottom of the pool. She was so shocked she didn’t even attempt to find the key. When she came up she coughed and said, “If you’re trying to drown me, I’m almost there. And this water’s cold too. Are you too cheap to run the heater?”

  He swam over to her, and she took a swing at him. He ducked and laughed. “You must want another dunking.”

  “I want to get out of this—this pool, you miserable man!” she shrieked. “I really am going to have you arrested, you can count on it!”

  “You sure are cute all wet. Course, I noticed that the first day we met. Your wet T-shirt was just about the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. The one you’re wearing right now is pretty sexy too.”

  Gwen looked down at her chest and groaned. Her breasts were clearly delineated, her nipples hard and erect. “It’s only the cold water,” she said furiously, “so don’t go getting all macho and think I’m responding to your caveman tactics.”

  “You’re right, the water is cold. I’ll have to turn up the heater. But for now I think a sauna is in order—we both need to warm up.”

  “If you think I’m getting into the sauna with you, think again!” Gwen shrieked.

  “I guess I can’t force you to get warm, but the sauna’s where I’m heading.” He took a dive to the bottom of the pool and brought up the key. Grinning at her, he held it up to show her, then swam to the shallow end, where he stood and walked to the steps. “You know where the sauna is, if you change your mind,” he called.

  “Not a chance,” she muttered, then stared in dismay as he got rid of his dripping clothes right in front of her. “Don’t you have even one gram of modesty?” she yelled.

  “Honey, you’ve not only seen me naked, you enjoyed every second we both spent naked.”

  “I did not!”

  Laughing, he went to a cupboard, took out an enormous pile of folded towels, and carried all of them with him as he disappeared through a door that she knew led to his sauna.

  “You rotten manipulator,” she whispered. “You took every towel!” Dammit, enough was enough! He could have left her a couple of towels, at least, even if she couldn’t escape the pool room.

  Enraged, she swam to the shallow end of the pool and climbed up the steps. Her soaked clothes felt like they weighed a ton, and she couldn’t stop shivering. But she was mad as hell, so she marched militantly to the sauna door and yanked it open. Zane was stretched out full length on a bench, stark naked, and the big stack of towels was near his head.

  “Close the door, you’re letting the heat escape,” he said while slowly sitting up.

  “I want a towel!” She pulled the door shut and the heat of the sauna felt incredible.

  “You can have all the towels you want…if you get out of those clothes.”

  “So you can do what?”

  “Not one thing you don’t want. Gwen, you have my word. I just don’t want you coming down with pneumonia. Think of your kids, if you got sick.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you’re thinking of,” she drawled sarcastically. “And your word isn’t worth two cents, so save your breath.”

  “Okay, fine, have it your way.” Zane lay down again. “This really feels great. I’m warm all the way through.”

  She was beginning to get warm, but her sodden clothes still felt awful.

  “Are you going to give me the key so I can leave?” she asked while averting her eyes from his nude body.

  “Nope.”

  “I’m never going to forgive you for this, you know.”

  “Sure you will. Just as soon as you unbend enough to get out of those wet clothes and relax enough for us to do some talking.”

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “And talking is all you want from me?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Do you promise not to do anything but talk?”

  “You said my word wasn’t worth two cents.”

  “Do you promise?” she shrieked.

  “Okay, okay, don’t come unglued again. Yes, I promise.”

  “Turn y
our back.”

  “No way. I said I wouldn’t touch, but you can’t stop me from looking.”

  “Won’t you spare me one iota of embarrassment?” Gwen turned her back and began stripping away her wet clothes. When she was naked she asked with biting sarcasm, “May I have a towel now, Your Majesty?”

  Chuckling, Zane got up from the bench, picked up two of the towels and brought them over to her. She cringed, but she let him drape one over her shoulders, then took the other from his hand and wrapped it around her waist.

  It felt so good to be warm that she nearly swooned. But she showed not a drop of good cheer as she opened the sauna door and tossed out her wet clothes, to be worried about later.

  For now, she would soak up the heat and listen to what Zane had to say. Although she couldn’t imagine what topic could be so crucial that he’d go to this much trouble.

  Fourteen

  It was a large sauna, and except for where the heating equipment was situated the walls were lined with benches. Gwen sat on a different bench from the one Zane was using. Hugging the towels around herself, she tried not to even look at Zane as she said frostily, “Please say whatever’s on your mind and get it over with. I can’t hang around this—this den of iniquity the rest of the day.”

  He cocked an amused eyebrow and chuckled. “Den of iniquity?”

  “Do you like the word playpen better?”

  Zane turned onto his stomach so he could look at her. “Feeling a bit judgmental, are we?”

  Gwen’s ire rose again. “This isn’t nearly as amusing as you seem to think it is, so stop your damn gloating. If there’s anything I detest it’s smugness—and an attitude of unwarranted superiority. The only area in which you’re superior to me is your bank account.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. I don’t know of one other adult who would behave as adolescently as you have today.”

  “Could it be that you have some very dull friends?”

  “Could it be that you relate maturity with a boring existence? Should I take that as a sign that you haven’t yet grown up?”