Husband Wanted (10 page)

“Me? Uh-oh. What’d I do?”

“Frannie was telling me how she felt when she first realized she was in love with you.”

Clay shot an amused look at Frannie. “And?”

Frannie could feel herself blushing. “Mandy, I don’t think Clay’s interested—”

“Sure I am,” he said, coming over to sit next to Mandy on the sofa. There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “What else did she say?”

It was obvious Mandy thought she’d been caught up in a fun game between the two. “That she just
knew
you were the one.”

“No kidding?” He glanced at Frannie, saw two bright red spots on her cheeks, and grinned.

“What did you like first about her?” Mandy asked. “I’ll bet it was her great hair.”

His smile faded slightly as he took in the reddish-blond mane that made him wonder what it would be like having that brush his naked body as they made love. His gaze found hers. “Yes, your mother has beautiful hair. But that’s not what first attracted me to her.”

The girl looked surprised. “What was it then?”

He grinned and tweaked her nose. “I’m not about to tell.”

Mandy looked vastly disappointed.

“A man is entitled to a few secrets. Now, how about I show you to your room?” he suggested.

Frannie nodded quickly. “Yes, please do,” she said. “Did I mention she’s staying in the blue bedroom?” Once again she did the little dance with her eyebrows.

He looked amused. “Yes, I believe you did.” He turned to Mandy. “That’s just two doors down,” he said. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Clay led Mandy out and showed her to her room, then returned a moment later where he found Frannie still sitting in the chair, staring at the empty fireplace. “You okay?”

She nodded. “She’s all grown-up, Clay.”

He stepped closer and put his hands on her shoulders. She stiffened at first, then relaxed as she grew accustomed to his touch. “Not quite, Frannie,” he said as though unaware of what the physical contact was doing to her. “She still has a little ways to go.” He paused and massaged her muscles. Frannie tilted her head back slightly and gave in to the sheer pleasure. “So you
knew
I was the one, huh?” he asked.

Once again, Frannie blushed. “Mandy’s full of questions about love. I suppose she’s at that stage.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“You’re embarrassing me.”

He looked pleased. “You have beautiful hair,” he said after a moment. “I mean, it’s nice and all, but that’s not what I find most attractive about you.”

She was uncomfortable with the conversation but she could not contain her curiosity. “So what do you find, um, most attractive?”

“You’ve got knock-out legs.” He winked at her and left the room without another word.

“Frannie, please get in the bed,” Clay said several hours later, once everyone had turned in for the night. He wore navy pajama bottoms that rode low on his hips and emphasized a wide chest that Frannie found even more enticing with its dark coarse hair. “We went through this last night. I was kidding when I said you had to sleep on the sofa.”

Frannie, who’d found an extra blanket and pillow on a shelf in the closet the night before, had indeed slept on the sofa, even though Clay thought it ridiculous. “I’m perfectly fine right where I am,” she said, wondering why he insisted on going without a shirt. She tried to keep her eyes from falling below his shoulders. If they’d looked broad before, that was nothing compared to how they looked now.

“What’s Mandy going to think when she comes barreling in here in the morning and finds us sleeping separately?”

“She’ll knock first. I’ll have time to get into bed.”

“What if she forgets to knock?”

“Then, I’ll lock the door.”

Clay sighed heavily. The woman could be as annoying as a bad case of chigger bites. He blinked. Now, where had
that
come from? He’d obviously spent too much time listening to those little tidbits of folksy wisdom Frannie bestowed on him from time to time. “Just get in the bed, dammit! You’re making this difficult for both of us.”

She sat up, pulling her blanket up with her, trying to cover herself since the gown and robe Blair had sent was anything but modest. “How am I making it difficult for you?”

“Because I can’t relax knowing you’re sleeping on the sofa. Again,” he added. He raked one hand through his hair, his patience worn thin. “Look, it’s late and I’m tired. Either get in the damn bed, or I’m moving back to my room so you can sleep in a bed.”

“You can’t do that!”

“Wrong. I can do whatever I want.”

In a huff and still wrapped in the blanket, Frannie hauled herself from the sofa and made her way to the antique bed. It was high off the floor and not as wide as a modern-day full-size bed. She climbed up and wondered how they would share the space without bumping each other.

“Thank you,” Clay said, making his way to the bed. He turned off the lamp and climbed up as well. He immediately rolled toward the center and sank into the feather mattress. He winced when his knee came into contact with something soft. He heard Frannie gasp. “Sorry,” he muttered. “The mattress isn’t very firm. It’s stuffed with goose feathers. My mother claimed she couldn’t sleep on anything else.”

“That’s okay,” Frannie mumbled, scooting clear to the edge of the bed so they wouldn’t touch. She lay there stiff as a plank, holding her breath, not daring to move. Even so, she began to sink toward the middle as well, where most of the weight was. Once again, she inched her way toward her side of the bed and grasped the mattress tightly, to keep from sliding back. How she would ever sleep that way was beyond her. Worse, even though they were a good twelve inches apart she could feel the heat bouncing off his body like the sun off the pavement in summer.

Clay raised his head. “What the hell are you doing?” he asked, hearing her sounds of struggle.

“I’m trying to keep from sinking toward the middle,” she said in frustration.

“Heaven forbid our bodies accidentally touch,” he mumbled.

She really wanted to belt him, but she didn’t dare let go of her side of the mattress for fear of ending up in his lap.

He gave a massive sigh and turned over, his back facing her. The sudden movement made her lose her balance. She reached out, fumbling for an anchor of some kind, grabbed a pillow instead. The next thing she knew she was falling. Flailing arms took a lamp from the night table with her to the floor.

The thud sounded loud in the quietness of the house. It was followed by the sound of breaking glass. Clay rose up. “What the—?” He reached for the lamp on his side of the bed and turned it on. He leapt from the bed and ran around to the other side where Frannie, spread-eagle, was doing her best to sit up without cutting herself on the shattered base of the lamp.

“What happened?” he asked.

She snapped her head up, trying to decide if she was more embarrassed than angry. “I’d think it would be rather obvious,” she said from the floor. “I fell off the damn bed.”

“Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” she said, blushing so badly, she was certain her ears glowed. “It’s not as if I fell off the side of a mountain.”

He shook his head. He’d never known a more hard-headed woman. “Be still,” he said quickly when she started to move. “There’s broken glass everywhere.” He hurried to the closet for his shoes and grabbed a pair of loafers for her. “Put these on,” he said, handing them to her, pausing to step into his shoes as well. He picked up the now destroyed lamp, unplugged it, and, taking great care not to cut himself, placed it at a safe distance.

“Please tell me the lamp isn’t a priceless antique,” Frannie said.

“Forget the lamp,” he said. “Are you injured? Did you get cut by the glass?” He perused her as he spoke. He couldn’t help but notice the gown and robe she wore, her nipples peeking through the thin material.

“You need to come out of those bedclothes.”

She arched one brow. “I beg your pardon?”

“There are probably shards of glass in the material. Here, let me help you up.” He reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. “Stay here. You don’t want to go anywhere and have glass fall on the carpet. Tomorrow, I’ll make sure the area is thoroughly vacuumed.”

Frannie shrugged out of the robe. She folded it gently, hoping to prevent more glass from falling to the floor. She didn’t miss the look on Clay’s face as she stood there in the revealing nightgown. Now was not the time to be modest, she told herself. “This is the only thing I have to sleep in,” she said.

“Well, as much as I like it, I’m afraid you need to come out of it, just in case there is more glass. I have something you can wear.” He hurried over to the large dresser and opened a drawer. He returned with the top to his pajamas. “Put this on.”

“Here? Now?”

“I’ll turn my back.”

Frannie quickly pulled the gown over her head and lay it on the robe, then put on Clay’s pajama shirt. The arms were much too long and the hem fell mid-thigh. “Okay, I’m dressed,” she said.

He turned around and grinned when he saw how big it was on her. “I didn’t realize you were such a shrimp.”

“I’m five seven and weigh one hundred and twenty-eight pounds. That hardly makes me a shrimp.”

“Well, you’ve got short arms, regardless.” He reached for one sleeve and began rolling up the cuff.

“I knew I should have stayed on the sofa,” she muttered. “Do you think anyone heard me fall?”

His lips twitched with humor. “Only those within a five-mile radius.”

“Then, why hasn’t anyone knocked on the door to inquire?”

“Probably because they think we’re having great sex, and they don’t want to interrupt.”

She sighed as he rolled up the second sleeve. “This whole thing is crazy,” she said. “I should never have involved you in such a preposterous scheme. I don’t know why you even agreed to it.” She met his gaze. “Why
did
you agree to it?”

“I had my reasons.”

Frannie didn’t push. “I should have told Mandy the truth.”

“What’s done is done,” he said. “We’ll get through it. If it’ll make you feel safer, I’ll put a pillow between us. That way, you shouldn’t have to come into contact with any of my body parts. Now, can you climb up on the bed from where you’re standing, so you don’t step on any glass?”

“Perhaps if I were an acrobat,” she said.

“I could pick you up.”

“No, thank you.” Still, she had no desire to end up with a sliver of the broken lamp in her foot so, with a heavy sigh, she did as he suggested and managed to climb up on the bed from where she stood giving him a good look at the new lace underwear Blair had brought. Oh, well, it couldn’t be helped, she told herself, kicking off her loafers on the floor nearby so they would be there when she woke in the morning.
If
she was able to sleep. While she arranged herself under the covers, Clay placed the pillow between them.

“Satisfied?” he asked. She didn’t reply. He kicked off his own shoes, climbed into bed, and turned off the lamp.

“Where the hell could she be?” Clay asked, standing in the door of the dining room where Louisa was serving breakfast.

Frannie shook her head. “I’ve no idea. I looked in her room, and she’s gone.”

Greta caught the tail end of the conversation as she came into the room. “Are you asking about Mandy?” she said. When they both nodded, she went on. “The child got up with the chickens this morning. Said she was too excited to sleep and wanted to go for a walk. I told her there were bicycles in the garage if she wanted to use one.”

“Did you see which way she went?” Clay asked.

“She was headed toward the Elderberry place.”

“Oh, no!” Frannie said, turning to Clay. “What if she talks to somebody? “You know what a gossip Maude Elderberry is. What if she finds out the truth?”

“Oh, my,” Greta said. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Let’s go,” Clay said, leading the way from the kitchen to the foyer. Walter, coming down the stairs in his bathrobe, called out.

“Where’s the fire?” he asked.

“Mandy’s gone out bike riding this morning,” Frannie said. “We have to find her before she has a chance to talk to anyone.” They were out the door before the older man could question them further.

They climbed into Clay’s car. Once they had their seat belts fastened, he started the engine and peeled out of the circular drive, then drove the quarter-mile distance to the Elderberry place.

“I knew this would backfire on me,” Frannie said. “That’s what I get for lying to Mandy.”

Clay covered Frannie’s hand. “Let’s not assume the worst. For all we know, the cat is still in the bag.”

Frannie looked at him. “What?”

“Never mind.”

They both spied Mandy standing beside a corral of horses on the Elderberry property. “Oh, no!” Frannie said. “We might be too late.”

Clay braked and turned sharply to the right, spitting gravel as he did so. Mandy, who was talking to the Elderberry’s oldest son, looked startled at first but smiled the moment she recognized them. She hurried over.

“Dwight was just showing me his horses,” she said. “Aren’t they beautiful?”

Frannie got out of the car, searching her daughter’s face for some sign that she knew the truth. She saw nothing. “Yes, they are beautiful,” she said. “We were worried about you, Mandy.”

“Worried about me? Why?”

Frannie knew the girl would think it odd that she was upset over a simple bike ride; she couldn’t very well tell her the real reason she was anxious. Fortunately, it seemed the only thing Mandy and Dwight had discussed was horses. Frannie smiled as she pulled a strand of blond hair from her daughter’s face. “I guess I’m just being overprotective,” she confessed. “Are you hungry? There’s a big breakfast waiting back at the house.”

“I’m starved,” Mandy told her. “Let me say good-bye to Dwight and grab the bike.”

Frannie climbed back into the car and sighed her immense relief. “I don’t think she knows anything.”

Clay looked relieved as well. “Good. We’ll just have to watch her more carefully. Tell you what, we’ll keep her busy at home today, then tomorrow we’ll drive to Savannah and spend the night. We have to be there early Monday morning anyway, so she can catch her flight back.”