Husband Wanted (7 page)

“Of course not,” she said defensively. “I have to deal with men every day.”

“So it’s me?”

She was thoroughly flustered. “I’m just not accustomed to standing in a man’s bathroom going through his medicine cabinet.”

“If this makes you uncomfortable, how are you going to share your bedroom with me over the next few days?”

“I thought you could sleep on the sofa.”

“I could if I was five or six inches shorter.”

“Then,
I’ll
sleep on the sofa, and you can have the bed.”

He shrugged. “Fine with me.”

She didn’t say anything, but she thought it ungentlemanly that he was choosing the bed over the couch. Still, it was his house, and he was doing her a favor by going along with her scheme, so she couldn’t afford to make demands on him. “We’d best get back to packing,” she told him. He slipped out of the room without another word.

The bedroom that had appeared so large the first time Frannie saw it seemed to shrink in size the minute Clay stepped through the doorway. She couldn’t help but wonder, not for the first time, how they’d manage over the next few days. Nevertheless, she decided it probably was a good idea for him to go ahead and move in, so they could get accustomed to each other.

“Where should I hang my clothes?” Clay asked, having drawn slacks, dress shirts, and sports coats from a garment bag. Since he’d only moved home the day before, he hadn’t unpacked everything.

Frannie hurried to one of the closets and opened the tall ornate doors. “You can use this side,” she said, shoving her own things out of the way. “The other closet still has your mother’s clothes hanging in it.”

He frowned as he carried his things to the closet and hung them on the rack. “My father needs to get rid of them,” he said. “Or maybe he’s keeping them out of guilt.”

“I still have my mother’s belongings,” Frannie told him.

He glanced over his shoulder at her. “You think that’s healthy?”

“I don’t see why not. She might be dead, but she’s still alive in my heart. I think about her every day. Sometimes, when I’m feeling lonely, I go to her grave and talk to her for hours. I can’t tell you how much better I feel when I leave. Why, I wouldn’t trade those times for a horse farm in Georgia.”

He nodded, trying to decipher her words of wisdom, knowing it wasn’t always easy. “Where should I put my folded clothes?” he asked, deciding his father’s motives for holding on to his mother’s belongings weren’t so honorable. If the man had visited his mother’s grave since the funeral, he wasn’t aware of it.

Frannie pointed to a triple dresser. “I’m only using a couple of the drawers. Help yourself.” She carried his toiletry items into the bathroom and put them in the oversize medicine cabinet next to hers. Again, she was struck by an odd sense of intimacy.

Once Clay had unpacked, he stuffed his bags in the back of another closet and closed the door. “Well, now, that didn’t take too long,” he said, dusting his hands. He walked over to the bed and sat down, bouncing several times to test the firmness of the mattress. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“I’m sleeping on the sofa, remember?”

“Yes, but I still need to know. In case it comes up.”

“It won’t.” She was still irritated with him for not offering her the bed.

He smiled. “Humor me.”

“I always sleep on the side closest to the bathroom. Satisfied?”

His smile broke into a grin. “You don’t really have to sleep on the sofa. I was just giving you a hard time.”

“I don’t mind,” she told him, “though I imagine it’s a tremendous change for you, sleeping alone that is.”

He laughed. “Oh, well, it’ll make me a stronger person in the end. By the way, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I like your hair.”

She was surprised how good the compliment made her feel, especially coming from him. “Thanks. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought of cutting it short, but I can’t bring myself to do it. My mother used to love to braid it, even when she got really sick.”

“Do you have a pair of sneakers with you?” he asked.

Frannie nodded. “They’re old.”

“Doesn’t matter, I was just wondering if you wanted to take a walk before dinner. Nothing strenuous, you can wear what you have on. I need to get out in the fresh air, after spending all day in an office.”

“I’d love to get out for a while,” she told him. “Just give me a minute.” She hurried to the closet and reached for her sneakers on a shelf. Clay stood by the window, looking out while she changed.

They exited the room together and almost bumped into Walter, who was coming out of his own room. “All settled?” he asked, putting his arm around Frannie and squeezing her affectionately while his son looked on.

She nodded. “It’ll be a bit cramped, but we should do okay. It’s only for a few days.”

“Did you ask Clay to bring out that folding bed from storage?”

Clay crossed his arms over his chest and wondered why his father was questioning her about sleeping arrangements.

“It won’t be necessary,” Frannie said. “The sofa is plenty big enough for me. Besides, I don’t want to have to worry about explaining a folding bed, in case Mandy comes into my room.” She glanced at Clay. “I mean
our
room.”

Frannie sensed the sudden tension between the two men and wondered at it. “Clay and I were just about to take a walk. Would you like to come with us?” She secretly hoped he wouldn’t, so they could all relax. With his heart condition, he had no business getting worked up over anything. What she would give to be able to tell Clay as much.

Walter shook his head. “No, thanks. I’ve already had my exercise for the day. I just want to sit in my favorite chair and finish reading the newspaper. I didn’t have time this morning.” He looked at Clay. “Take good care of her,” he said. “I’ve gotten attached to her.” He smiled and made his way down the stairs, leaving Clay with a hollow feeling in his gut.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Frannie said, once she and Clay had walked a distance in complete silence. “Is something wrong?”

He looked baffled. “I’m just trying to figure out what’s really going on around here.”

“What do you mean?” she asked. “I thought we’d covered everything.”

He stopped walking and regarded her. “I’m not referring to the business about your daughter. I want to know what’s going on between you and my father.”

“Your father?” she asked, clearly surprised. “I don’t know what you mean.” When he didn’t answer, she went on. “This is all about money, isn’t it?” she asked when nothing else came to mind. He didn’t answer. “Why didn’t you say something earlier? If you truly suspected I was after your father’s money, you should have asked me.”

“Would you have told me the truth?”

“I always tell the truth.” She blushed. “Except for this one time with my daughter, and look at the mess it’s gotten me into. As for your father, he and I are friends and nothing more.”

Clay did not look convinced.
“You
might feel that way, but I think he has something else in mind.”

“Look, I didn’t just fall off of some turnip truck. Your father has never given me any reason to believe his intentions were less than honorable. I think I’d know if he had something up his sleeve.”

“He’s handing over his home, isn’t he? He hired extra staff to impress your daughter. I’d say that’s a fairly strong indication of his affections.”

“Are you always this paranoid?”

“When my old man does something nice for a pretty lady, I am.”

Frannie took pleasure in the fact that he’d called her pretty, but she couldn’t spend a lot of time thinking about it at the moment. She knew that Walter Coleman’s ulterior motives concerned his son and not her, but she wasn’t about to get in the middle of that one.

She started to walk once more. Clay followed. “I wish you’d try to work out whatever problems you have with your father,” she said. “He’s very lonely, you know. And his health isn’t what it used to be.” She winced at her own words. Walter would skin her alive if she revealed the business about the heart attack.

“I don’t want to see him make a fool of you,” he told her, “the way he did the others. I don’t want him to use you.”

“He’s not going to
use
me. That’s not the kind of relationship we have.”

“You don’t know—”

“I’m not a child, Clay. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”

The look in his eyes was intense. “He’ll start by giving you gifts; small ones at first, so you won’t suspect. He’ll ask your advice on everything, and you’ll wonder how he ever made it without you.”

“I don’t want to hear any more of this.”

He went on regardless. “Haven’t you ever wondered why I stopped working for him and went out on my own? It’s because I got sick of watching him treat women as if they were his personal property. I got tired of watching him cheat on my mother, of watching her pretend it didn’t matter when he called and said he had to work late, or go out of town for a few days.”

Frannie could sense his rage. “I don’t blame you for being angry,” she said, “but hanging on to it is hurting
you.
And while we’re on the subject, I’m sick and tired of you insinuating there is something between your father and me. Or that I’m even remotely interested in your precious wealth. If I weren’t trying to act like a lady, I would tell you where to stick it.”

“You’re nothing like I imagined.”

“Which only proves you don’t know me very well.”

He came to an abrupt halt, but she kept walking. “You want the truth?” he asked.

She stopped and turned. “The truth? You mean the part about me being an opportunist or your fear that I’ll steal the family silver when I leave?”

“The truth is, I’m guess I am jealous. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I think it’s because I want you for myself.”

She was dumbstruck, unsure she’d heard him right. “You’re not making sense.”

He surprised her further by slipping his arms around her waist and pulling her close. She blinked in surprise at the intimate contact their bodies made, but she didn’t push away. “Life doesn’t always have to make sense,” he told her. “All I know is that I’ve been fascinated by you since we met that night to exchange information about each other. I’ve never known anyone like you.”

Her look was one of disbelief. She remained still in his arms, confused and frightened and disoriented, like a small animal caught in the glare of headlights. “You certainly never gave any indication.”

He sighed. “I’d like to get to know you better, Frannie,” he said.

He was much too close. She could clearly make out the dark blue, almost purple flecks in his irises, the stubble along his jaw. “Why?”

“Like I said, you fascinate me.”

Her gaze was steadfast. “So does every woman under forty in this town, Clay. You really have no right to judge your father, you know. Your reputation isn’t exactly lily-white.”

“I’m not married the way my father was when he launched into his numerous affairs.”

“The way I hear it, you run as fast as you can, the minute a woman mentions marriage.”

“I have reason to be skittish. My mother tried to mask her unhappiness over my father’s affairs, but I knew she was deeply hurt.”

“There are a lot of good, healthy marriages in this world. You shouldn’t let your parents’ unhappy union cloud your judgment.”

He chuckled. “Look who’s talking. I notice you haven’t bought into the house and picket fence routine. Maybe you and I have more in common than we think.”

“Meaning?”

“Could be you’re as gun-shy as me when it comes to matrimony. Wouldn’t surprise me if it had something to do with the guy that ran out on you. Not to mention your father, who split the minute things got tough.”

“You sound as if you’ve got me all figured out,” she said, her voice edged with sarcasm.

He smiled. His teeth were perfect. Someone had spent a lot of money on them. “Not quite,” he said. “But maybe we can do something about it.”

“Like what?”

“We could go away together for a few days. Get to know each other better. Once your daughter leaves, of course,” he added.

His offer chilled her to the marrow. His wasn’t the first such proposition she’d received in her life. She was reminded once more of his closeness, the broad chest pressing against her breasts, the brush of his thighs against hers. She pushed away. This time she was successful.

“Sounds wonderful,” she said, “but wouldn’t it be easier and cheaper just to rent a motel room for an evening?”

He looked baffled. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m not interested, Clay. If you’re looking for a good time between the sheets then you need to look elsewhere.”

He shook his head. “You misunderstood me,” he said. “I was merely suggesting we get away from this place so we can concentrate on each other. I can afford double rooms.”

“Sorry I misread your intentions,” she said. “But the answer is still no.”

“Why do you have such a chip on your shoulder?”

“I
don't
have a chip on my shoulder. But once my daughter goes back to Washington, I have to return to work and school. I have my life planned out. I don’t have time to get involved with you or anyone else.”

“I think you’ve got a bad attitude toward men.”

“And I’d say you don’t handle rejection very well. And the part about wanting me for yourself? How very arrogant of you. I’m not up for grabs.”

Once again, he reached for her. She tried to back away, but she wasn’t fast enough. She was only vaguely aware of him ducking his head. The next thing she knew he was kissing her.

Kissing her!

Frannie stood immobile, frozen by shock as he pulled her tight against him. She parted her lips in surprise, and he sank his tongue inside where he began a thorough exploration. He tasted warm and masculine. Her heart took a perilous leap; her mind was thrown completely off balance. The kiss deepened.

She tried to resist, but it was only a halfhearted attempt, and they both knew it. He pulled her closer, flattening her body against his, so she could acquaint herself with the sinewy feel of him. Her stomach fluttered, and she was filled with a strange inner excitement. His hands were big and warm at the small of her back. He dropped them to her hips and splayed them wide. She was startled by the intimacy.