Hired Bride (6 page)

She closed her eyes and savored the moment. He exuded the cleanest, most marvelous scent, and if it wasn't such a foolish fantasy, she would have liked to stand there for the rest of the day and just breathe.

But he had a lot more in mind than mere breathing, she realized when she felt his mouth nuzzling the side of her neck.

Slipping away from both his hands and mouth, she turned and faced him. “Is that the real reason you wanted to come in?” she asked, and was startled by the breathless quality she heard in her own voice. Something inside her groaned. Why did he have to be the most gorgeous human being on the face of the earth?

But gorgeous or not, she didn't trust him. And if rumors about his reputation were accurate, she
shouldn't
trust him. He was not the kind of man she should even be friends with, because reputations were somewhat contagious, and she certainly didn't want his rubbing off on her. She wouldn't want people thinking of her as one more of Zane Fortune's conquests.

She gave him a troubled look, just as he said, “I asked to come in because I wasn't comfortable talking in your driveway. That's the truth, Gwen.”

“Is it?” she asked quietly, though her expression remained distraught.

“I'm not saying I don't find you enormously attractive,” Zane said, also speaking in a quiet tone. “I do, Gwen. You're a very beautiful, desirable woman.”

“Especially when I'm dressed in worn-out jeans and an old shirt,” she said sarcastically.

“Surely you don't believe that clothes mean that much. You couldn't be anything but beautiful, whatever you happened to be wearing.”

She threw up her hands. “For God's sake, Zane, I wasn't born yesterday! If clothes didn't make a difference, you'd be buying yours off the rack, not having them custom made. So please don't insult my intelligence by telling me that my beauty and desirability are knocking you out. I know exactly how I look today, and it sure isn't beautiful!”

Zane leaned one hip against a counter, folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. “You really don't know how to take a compliment, do you?”

“Since I haven't heard a genuine compliment in a very long time, I wouldn't know.” She could tell that he was all set to give her an argument, and she took a hurried, impatient breath. “I have to deliver that table before five. Are you ready to leave now?”

“Will you go to Vanessa's with me on Wednesday?”

“No.”

“And there's nothing I could do or say to change your mind?”

Gwen was scared that he was on the verge of offering her money again. She hoped he wouldn't. She hoped it so much that her fingernails dug into her palms as she clenched her hands into fists.

“I hope you won't even try,” she said with a slight quake in her voice.

He studied her for a few long moments, then pushed himself away from the counter. “Okay, you win. I won't ask you out again. But you don't win every point,” he added, and took the three steps between them, clasped her by her upper arms and pulled her forward so that his face was but a breath from hers. “This point is mine,” he whispered just before covering her lips with his.

He kissed her until her knees got wobbly…until she was digging her fingers into the front of his shirt…. until her body was burning and yearning…. until her mind was so dazed she'd lost track of her own name.

And then he
stopped
kissing her. While she grabbed for the back of a chair to steady herself, he said huskily, “That was a pretty good point, wasn't it? I do have to ask myself, though, which one of us got the most benefit from it. I'll be going now. Maybe we'll run into each other again sometime when you're at my house, cleaning something, or bathing Alamo. So long, darlin'. See you around.”

Gwen moved around the chair on shaky legs and all but fell onto it. Had she ever been so thoroughly kissed before? she wondered as her mind spun dizzily.

G
wen was badly shaken. Responding to Zane Fortune was a fool's game. During her entire adult life she had made love with one man—her children's father—and the voracious manner in which she had kissed Zane back seemed like an insult to her deceased husband's memory.

After walking the floor and literally wringing her hands for a good half hour, however, Gwen's perspective on that kiss began to change. First of all, her kissing any man as a widow had nothing at all to do with Paul. She'd been a good and faithful wife and had no guilt or regrets where Paul and her marriage were concerned. Besides, there was nothing wrong, sinful or criminal about a kiss between two consenting adults. In fact, Gwen finally concluded unhappily, the one and only problem with that kiss was that Zane Fortune had administered it and that she had liked it far too much. In truth, she had liked it so much that if Zane had not put on the brakes, they very well might be in her bed right now!

That
idea scared her to death. The last thing she needed in her problem-laden life was a too rich, too good-looking, too worldly-wise bachelor who could never understand her, her kids or her life-style. In fact, she should have slapped Zane Fortune's face today, she thought indignantly. What made him think he had
the right to kiss her anytime he felt like it? That was twice now, and he'd just better not try it a third time!

Gwen's lethargy since Zane's departure suddenly vanished, and she hurried out to the garage for the little table that needed delivery. Carrying it to her van, she saw the dents and scratches, which reminded her of the accident, and her heart sank. Instead of paying bills or putting something away for a rainy day with that two thousand, she was going to have to pay for the repairs to Zane's car. Why hadn't he stayed on his own side of town today?

Muttering, Gwen got behind the steering wheel of the van and drove to Marion Kravitz's home. The woman was delighted with the table and would have chatted about it for an hour if Gwen hadn't told her that she had another appointment. She collected $180 for the table and left, sorry about lying to a woman as nice as Mrs. Kravitz, but forgiving herself for the lie because she simply could not bear idle chitchat with so much on her mind.

Driving away from the Kravitz home, Gwen heaved a ponderous sigh. It never failed to happen, she thought despondently. If she somehow managed to earn a few extra dollars, something occurred to make her spend them. Damn Zane for parking in her driveway today! And for even thinking she might go to his sister's house for dinner when she'd told him in plain English that she didn't date.

Did he finally have the message now, or was he going to come up with another excuse to badger her? Of course there was no avoiding some sort of contact about the repairs to his car.

Gwen groaned. Nothing ever worked in her favor—absolutely nothing. One thing she'd been planning to
do with that two thousand was reinstate her auto insurance. What incredible irony.

 

Phoning Vanessa could not be avoided, although Zane didn't place the call until late that night because of the hours he'd spent searching for a believable reason why he and Gwen would not be having dinner with his sister and her husband. Ordinarily, telling Vanessa, or any other member of his family, that he was no longer seeing a particular woman wouldn't bother him in the least. Yet the thought of saying it about Gwen didn't just bother him, it chafed at raw nerves.

A dozen times he asked himself why he had kissed her again. Had he hoped to accomplish something with Gwen, or had he simply lost control of his normal good sense for a few minutes today? The fact that she'd kissed back was like a melody repeating in his mind—ever-present, haunting, frustrating.

Shaking his head to dispel the memory of the kiss, he braced himself to call Vanessa and explain that he and Gwen were no longer seeing each other. That would officially end this charade once and for all.

But somehow he just couldn't do it. When he finally dialed Vanessa's number, he told her that Gwen had other plans for dinner on Wednesday.

“Oh, that's too bad,” Vanessa said, sounding disappointed. “How about Thursday night? Or Friday?”

Obviously Vanessa wasn't giving up. Zane's expression became grim, because now he was going to have to expand his lie.

“She's busy all week, Vanessa. Sorry.”

“All week? Goodness, I didn't realize she was that busy. Does that mean you won't be seeing her at all this week?”

“Uh, just in brief spurts.”

“Well, that must put an awful strain on your relationship. Is Gwen tied up for social or business reasons?”

“Hmm…mostly business,” Zane said after taking a second to think.

“I do recall her saying something about owning and operating her own business.”

“Yes, she does, and I guess at times the, uh, paperwork gets a bit overwhelming.”

“Surely she has clerical help, Zane.”

Zane was tired of fabricating stories about Gwen. “Vanessa, I have another call coming in. Sorry to cut our conversation short, but I had better take it.”

“Yes, it could be Gwen,” Vanessa agreed with a teasing lilt in her voice. “Good night, Zane. Oh, let me know when you and Gwen do have a free evening. I still want the chance to get to know her better.”

The strangest weakness washed over Zane as he said good-night and hung up the phone. He wished to high heaven that he'd never brought Gwen to that wedding. Not only couldn't Vanessa forget her, neither could he!

 

Gwen had picked up her kids at the usual time that day, but she didn't get a chance to really talk to Ramona until nine, after the kids were in bed and she herself was showered and wearing her nightclothes.

“This is becoming a habit,” Gwen said after dialing Ramona's number and hearing her normal brisk hello.

“What is?” Ramona asked.

“Calling you after the kids are down for the night.”

“Well, it's a good habit. We certainly don't get much opportunity to talk when you bring the kids over
in the morning or pick them up in the evening. So tell me what's new in your life.”

“Probably the news flash of the day is that I ran into Zane Fortune's car with my van,” Gwen said dryly.

“You
what?
Good Lord, Gwen, what happened?”

“He was parked in my driveway, and I didn't see his car until it was too late.”

“That damn hedge.”

“Yes, that damn hedge,” Gwen agreed. “But it isn't like I was making that turn for the first time, Ramona. Do you remember last summer when I almost plowed into my dad's car for the same reason? That was a near miss instead of a crash only because my mind was on driving instead of fifty other things. Today I wasn't that lucky. Neither Zane nor I were hurt, thank God, but his car was. And guess what? I had to let my auto insurance lapse last month.”

“Oh, Gwen,” Ramona groaned. “Why didn't you borrow the cost of the premium from me? Or from your folks? You can't be driving around without insurance.”

“I will not ask my folks for another penny, and if I started borrowing money from you, we probably wouldn't be friends for long. Forget that idea. I will never borrow from you, and that's that. Can you believe how ironic life can be at times? Zane paid me two-thousand dollars, which I deposited in my checking account this morning. One of the things I was going to do with that money was reinstate my car insurance. Before I got it done, though, I ran into his car.”

“It's the pits,” Ramona said gloomily. “I suppose he was all bent and upset over the accident.”

“Actually, he was nice about it,” Gwen said slowly, realizing it was true.

“That was big of him, but why was he parked in your driveway in the first place?”

“Ramona, I really don't understand Zane Fortune. For some reason he wants to keep his family believing that he and I are a hot item. One of his sisters asked him to bring me to dinner at her house, and he came by to ask if I'd go.”

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Gwen, what did you say to his dinner invitation?” Ramona sounded a trifle impatient.

“I said no, what else would I say? And after he kissed me, I was darn glad—”

“Whoa, there. He
kissed
you?”

“Yes, he did, and I should have slapped his face. I'm furious with myself because I didn't. He's much too bold, Ramona, and I'm sure he thinks he can do anything he wants just because he's a Fortune.”

“Gwen, where did he kiss you?”

“On the mouth.”

“No, no, I meant
where?
In your driveway?”

“Uh, no, we were in the house by then.”

“You invited him in?”

“Only because he asked to use the bathroom. I could hardly say no to that.” Ramona fell silent, until Gwen said, “Ramona? Are you still there?”

“Gwen, have you considered the possibility of Zane Fortune genuinely liking you?”

“Oh, really, Ramona,” Gwen said with a derogatory sniff. “If Zane wants anything at all from me beyond my help in deluding his family, it could only be one thing. And I am not going to have an affair
with any man, especially not with a man who's had everything his way since the day he was born.”

“And that's how you see Zane? How you feel about him?”

“You'd feel the same way if you met him. He's just too…perfect.”

“Oh, I can see why you wouldn't want him,” Ramona said with a small laugh. “I mean, what woman would want a ‘perfect' man?”

“I didn't say his character was perfect—his reputation with women would make a soap opera.”

“So what's perfect about him, then?”

“His…his looks, I guess,” Gwen stammered. She laughed awkwardly. “Can you believe that I'm finding this conversation embarrassing? You and I have been able to talk about anything for a long time, and now because a man kissed me I'm all red-faced and tongue-tied. Silly, isn't it?”

“It might not be silly at all,” Ramona said gently. “But let's talk about something else and let you off the hook for now.”

They talked for another hour about other things. But when Gwen finally went to bed, she lay there for a long time and thought that Ramona could possibly be right: Her feelings for Zane might not be silly at all. They could be…serious!

“No,” she whispered as panic rose in her throat. “No, no, no!” How could she label feelings that even she didn't fully comprehend as either silly
or
serious? She had to stop trying to figure herself out where Zane was concerned, she thought a bit frantically. She hadn't suddenly turned into someone else, after all. She was just plain Gwen Hutton, and Zane Fortune was miles above her in looks, money and position.

She'd be wise to keep that one crucial fact firmly fixed in her mind.

 

By the following Friday, Gwen was uneasily wondering why she'd heard nothing from Zane about the repairs to his car. She returned library books for elderly Harry Adkins, shopped for a birthday gift for Tom Cunningham's secretary, bathed two cats and a dog for Elizabeth Rondell, and literally ran from job to job all day—only taking one unscheduled break when she drove past a garage sale and stopped to check the merchandise. All the while Gwen kept thinking it was peculiar that Zane hadn't contacted her about the repairs to his car.

Three times she dashed home to check the messages on her machines. She knew there were much better models on the market—ones that would allow her to retrieve her messages by phone—and that hers were very outdated, but they were just one more example of how she had to make do with things she already owned. Buying anything new, was always a major undertaking. Gwen had become very adept at mending and making clothes last, but there was nothing she could do about shoes, which one child or another constantly seemed to be outgrowing.

On her third trip home, Gwen listened to a few messages—none from Zane—and decided to get to the bottom of his silence. She needed to know the exact cost of his car repairs so she could feel free to use the rest of that two-thousand—if there was any left over—for other things. Actually, it was darn inconsiderate of him not to have immediately phoned her with that information, she thought while dialing the Fortune company number.

“Zane Fortune's office. Heather Moore speaking,” his secretary said.

“Heather, this is Gwen Hutton. Is Mr. Fortune in?”

“Why…yes,” Heather said slowly, obviously surprised by Gwen's question.

Gwen understood Heather's reaction. Heather was the person who had hired her for specified jobs at Zane's home, the person Gwen had always talked to about anything concerning those jobs, and now here she was asking if Mr. Fortune was in. Gwen suspected that her question had confused Heather, but if Zane hadn't told his secretary that Gwen had run into his elegant car with her old van, she certainly wasn't going to do it.

Instead she said, “May I speak to him, Heather?” Gwen was proud of the calmness of her voice, because she didn't feel at all calm. In fact, she was downright nervous about calling Zane. She knew that she would never phone him—or any other client— for a frivolous reason, but he did owe her an answer on the cost of those repairs, and that was by no means frivolous to her.

“I'm going to put you on hold for a moment while I check with Mr. Fortune and find out if he's free to take your call,” Heather said.

Music immediately began playing in Gwen's ear, and she realized how easily Zane could avoid talking to her. As polite as Heather Moore always was on the phone, she was first and foremost the consummate secretary, loyal to and protective of her boss.

“Gwen?”

Her heart nearly stopped when she heard Zane's voice in her ear. “Yes…hello,” she stammered.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” he said, sounding as
though he really meant it, which instantly put Gwen on guard.