Weekend Wife (4 page)

Ty was still staring in shock at Carmen. “Never mind,” he finally grumbled. “I didn’t get where I am today by not being able to figure out a problem as simple as a foreign language.” Again he tore through his hair with frenzied hands. “You say she has a virus of some sort?” he asked, his hands suddenly stilling in his now-spiky hair.

Trying not to stare at the havoc he’d wreaked on his head, Emily met his eyes and saw genuine concern there. “I don’t know, exactly. Late last night she had a temperature. At least, she felt warm to me. She’s been sneezing and coughing for several days, and I’m afraid that if she doesn’t get some antibiotics, it could get a lot worse.”

Tyler rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We’ve got a company doctor at Connstarr who will make house calls for employees. As soon as I get you settled, I’ll give him a call.”

“Thanks.” Emily sighed as Carmen sleepily rubbed her eyes. Glancing at a fabulous antique clock standing just beneath the impressive staircase, she could see that it was already getting late in the evening. Fretting nervously, she wondered if the company doctor would be able to take a look at Carmen after 7:00 p.m. She wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink until she knew the child would be all right. This time Carmen’s stomach made its presence known, and the girl smiled shyly up at Tyler.

“That pizza will be here soon,” he said, grinning as he mounted the stairs just off the massive tile-and-mahogany foyer. “Come on. All the bedrooms are up here.”

Before he’d gone three steps, the front door burst open and Helga strong-armed her plastic junkyard into his impeccable vestibule. “Which way?” she hollered, glancing around curiously at her new surroundings.

Emily could tell that Helga was suitably impressed, by the way she adjusted her plastic poncho and stood a little straighter.

Grimacing, Tyler looked from her fully loaded shopping cart to the stairs and back to the cart again. “This way.” He sighed, and, giving Helga a hand, led his three new houseguests to their quarters.

* * *

“What the hell is she doing in there?” Tyler demanded, three extra-large pizzas with the works balanced precariously in his arms.

Emily nudged him out of Helga’s room into the hallway and closed the door after them. “She’s, uh, nesting,” she explained, trying to defend Helga’s eccentric behavior.

“Nesting?” he asked incredulously, his jaw hanging open. “What for? She has a brand-new queen-size nest with fitted sheets right there in the middle of the room. What does she need that screwball tent for?”

“For the past few years it’s been her only protection from the elements. Kind of like a child’s security blanket. She’s just used to it, that’s all. It’s okay. Really. She’s not dangerous or anything,” she assured him, and looked longingly at the boxes he held.

“Well...” He glanced doubtfully back at Helga’s door and sighed. She was part of the deal. He guessed he’d just figure out a way to cope with it. A lunatic for a mother-in-law and a daughter who didn’t speak English. Roxanne was going to have a field day. “Dinner’s served. Grab the kid and the kook, and join me in the kitchen. You and I can talk about your new duties after we get some food in your stomach.” He sounded a little gruffer than he’d intended.

She looked so grateful, he felt guilty about making an issue over the mess in Helga’s room. What was it about her that turned his guts to mush every time she favored him with her warm, caring smile?

* * *

Emily had never tasted such delicious pizza. She could feel Ty watching her as she ravenously devoured an entire pie all by herself. The only person who ate faster and with more gusto was Helga.

“You gonna eat that?” The older woman eyed a half-eaten crust on Ty’s plate.

“No. No...go ahead.”

“Thanks.” Helga stuffed his leftovers into her mouth and winked at Emily.

Emily had to admit that she admired the way Ty handled Helga. The old woman had been putting him through his paces all through dinner, and slowly but surely his boyish charm was winning the old woman over.

“Yap,” Helga said as she got up from the table. “I’ll put my friend Carmen here to bed. It’s way past her bedtime,” she explained, and hoisted a sleepy but satisfied Carmen into her arms.

“Thanks, Helga. Good night...” Emily called after her, her plastic poncho rustling as she moved quickly out of the room.

As she turned toward Tyler she could still feel his probing eyes following her every move. She smiled self-consciously, wondering if she had added pizza sauce to the grime on her face. A nervous twitch settled into the corner of her mouth and she squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. She still had no idea what this man expected of her.

In a effort to break the ice, she decided to thank him for having the doctor over so promptly. She felt much better knowing that the child was all right.

“Thanks,” she began tentatively as she wiped her hands with a paper napkin. “The doctor says that Carmen will be fine. She just had a touch of the flu. He says she’s nearly over it. I didn’t know doctors still made house calls,” she rambled, wishing she knew why he was watching her so closely.

Ty smiled. “I’m glad she’s going to be okay, because tomorrow is going to be a busy day for all of us,” he said, wadding up his own napkin and tossing it onto his plate. He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hand across his jaw. Correctly reading her quizzical expression, he said, “You’re wondering why I brought you here.”

“Yes.” Fear, mingled with excitement, tiptoed down her spine.

“Good question.” He sighed and studied her face critically. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “Why...did I bring you here?” He repeated the question, as though trying to figure out the answer himself. “Well...” He moved forward in his seat and regarded her seriously. “To put it simply, I brought you here because I need a wife.”

“A
wife?
”

“In a word, yes.”

Tyler could tell that he’d knocked her for a loop. He knew how she felt. This morning he’d gotten up and gone to work, a single, unencumbered, carefree bachelor. This evening he’d come home with three wacky new family members who were already turning his apple-pie-order life upside down.

His house was suddenly a mess, Helga was only playing with half a deck, and the child barely spoke any English. Not to mention the fact that their strange behavior was giving him a heart attack.

The only hope he had of turning these unlikely crew members into the family of his dreams, was the woman seated in front of him. The woman who sat there now, looking at him as if he’d lost his mind.

“As in, till death do us part?” Her eyes were round as dinner platters.

“No, no, no.” Ty chuckled uneasily. She didn’t have to look so repulsed. Lots of women thought he was a pretty decent catch. “Only for a weekend.”

“A weekend?” she squeaked.

“Or two,” he amended.

“You need a
weekend wife?
”

“Ah, yes, and...probably some weekdays in between, too....”

Tyler studied her horrified face, while trying to think of a way to explain this whole thing gracefully. He couldn’t lose her now. Not this one. If he could just get her to agree to go along with him, he had a feeling that she would be perfect.

Before the pizza had arrived and while the company doctor was looking in on Carmen, he’d called the local shopping mall and made some appointments at the hairdresser’s for them. Fashion makeovers weren’t his bag, but the guy at Maxime’s Impressionistic Hair should know his stuff. What the heck? Couldn’t hurt. By the end of the day tomorrow, hopefully they wouldn’t recognize themselves. Hopefully
he
wouldn’t recognize them, either.

Although, he mused, even layers of dirt and grime couldn’t hide the classic structure of her face. Tearing his eyes away from the fear he saw etched in her expression, he took a deep breath and decided to plunge in.

“Actually, I—”

The phone rang.

Damn it anyway. He smiled apologetically at her. “That’s the phone in my office, so I know it’s work related. I’d...better get it. I’ll probably be a while, so please, make yourself at home. I promise to tell you everything as soon as I’m finished.”

Nodding dumbly, Emily watched him go. He wanted her to be his wife, this weekend? And next? And the days in between? What did that mean? Shivering violently at the ugly thoughts that tumbled through her brain, she pushed herself away from the table and ran upstairs on wobbly legs. She told herself she needed to check on Carmen. However, if she were honest, she knew what she really wanted was to check on him. Maybe if she poked around for a while upstairs, she could find some sort of clue as to who—or what—he was. Normal men did not propose marriage to women they found at the side of the road.

Carmen was sleeping like an angel. It looked like Helga had managed to wipe Carmen’s face and hands before popping her into her first comfortable bed in ages. Her cheeks, scrubbed pink, lay against freshly laundered, lace-edged pillowcases, and her tiny rosebud mouth was pulled into a smile that spoke of pleasant dreams.

Peeking in across the hall, Emily was glad to see Helga snoring away atop Ty’s large guest bed. The cockamamy tent she’d constructed, just for appearances, was forsaken in favor of a firm mattress.

It broke her heart, now that she knew Ty was a madman, that by this time tomorrow night they’d be back out on the street. Even though he didn’t seem dangerous so far, she couldn’t take any chances. Shutting the door softly, she tiptoed down the hallway and wondered where to begin sleuthing for clues to this guy’s character. She was seriously thinking about turning him in to the authorities.

The master suite seemed like the most logical place to start.

Ty’s large, airy bedroom had that just-unpacked feel. Empty boxes were stacked in a corner, and large, framed pictures leaned against the wall waiting to be hung. The windows still needed curtains, but Emily could tell that when this room was finished it would be fantastic. Across the room, French doors led to a veranda that looked out over the pool area. Next to that, an open archway led to an enormous master bath, done in gleaming chrome, crystal and brass.

What she wouldn’t give for a bath in this, she thought, running a hand over the whirlpool tub’s smooth, marble surface. Two could probably fit in this tub with room to spare—

What the heck was she thinking? Daydreaming about taking a bath with that...that...lunatic downstairs?
Get a grip.

Glancing up, she spotted her reflection in the mirror and was horrified by what she saw. She hadn’t checked her appearance in well over a week, and it was clear that outdoor living did not agree with her regular beauty regime.

Her once luxurious, silky, shiny, golden brown hair now hung in greasy strings at the sides of her face. And the face. Gaunt and drawn were two words that came to mind as she took in her sallow complexion. She looked like a chimney sweep.

The clothes that had fit perfectly when she’d started this project now hung in filthy tatters on her slender frame. It was amazing what a week or so of eating beans could do for those excess curves, she thought.

Unable to stand the dirt and grime for another second, Emily quickly strode to the inviting walk-in shower and turned on the hot water. This would only take a second, she decided, stripping out of her grubby clothes and tossing them onto the floor. Besides, hadn’t he said for her to make herself at home? Hopefully he would stay on the phone for a few more minutes.

Glorious hot water cascaded over her head. Loading her hair with scented shampoo, Emily lathered it into a mountain of suds. Oh, how wonderful the warm, penetrating spray felt on her shoulders and back as she ran the soapy washcloth over her frame. She scrubbed at her flesh until she could feel it squeak with cleanliness, then rinsed her hair thoroughly and shut off the faucet. Grabbing a huge, fluffy bath sheet, she hurriedly dried off and wrapped it around herself. She found a brand-new toothbrush in his medicine cabinet and brushed her teeth.

Looking down at her filthy pile of rags in dismay, she decided that there was no way she could put her clothes back on until they’d been washed. Tyler probably wouldn’t mind if she borrowed some of his clothes. Anyway, at this point, she didn’t really care what he thought of her.

Tiptoeing into his bedroom, she discovered one of his dress shirts hanging over a bedpost. It would do for now. Donning it, she rolled the sleeves up to her elbows and was glad to discover that it covered her somewhat modestly.

Fear that Ty would probably come looking for her as soon as he finished his business on the phone had her nerves jangling as she tried to button his shirt with shaky fingers. When she was halfway done, she knew she’d missed a hole and gave up. No time.

After a rapid search of his dresser drawers, she finally found his underwear and pulled out a pair of silly boxers sporting dancing pickles. They would have to do. Pulling them on, she plunged her hands deeper into his tidy drawer and groped around for a pair of socks.

He was a bit of a neat-nick, she noted, quite unlike herself. She had always felt that orderly drawers were the sign of a boring mind. Well, Tyler Newroth blew that theory all to heck. With his intense good looks and that powerful build, not to mention his insane ideas about marriage, Ty was anything but boring. No, most certainly not...boring.

What on earth was this?
Pushing aside a pile of socks, Emily was stunned to find a bottle of champagne wrapped in what looked like lacy women’s underwear and tied with—
handcuffs?

Was
this
the proposal he’d had in mind? Well, he could just take her back to the freeway where he’d found her. She was no man’s terminator, or dominator, or whatever the heck it was one did with handcuffs and the like. No, thank you. If he wanted to wear women’s undies, he’d have to do it on his own time.

Her heart thundered fearsomely in her ears as she lifted the handcuffs off the bottle and let them dangle from her fingertips. Why would he seek her out? She had neither the looks nor the talent for this type of thing. And how on earth would she ever fit
this
juicy tidbit into her thesis?

No way. She’d better grab Helga and Carmen and make a run for it. Now. If she were lucky, they could all be back out on the highway before Ty could say ��Spank me.”

“I see you found my room.”

“Argh!” Emily screamed, and whirled around. Handcuffs in hand, she faced Ty, who stood squarely in his doorway, watching her.

Ohmagoshohmagosh.
Her heart bounced around in her rib cage, building centrifugal force and threatening to burst out of her chest. Her entire body quaked with terror, and she had to will herself not to faint. “I... Ha...uh... I— I—” she stuttered, so fearfully it began to make her angry.

Why was she on trial here? He was the pervert. And she was probably his next victim!

“Yeah!” Her body shook with rage. “I sure did!” she snapped, launching the handcuffs—bottle of champagne and all—in his direction. “And that’s not all I found!”

“What the...?” Ty gasped as he dodged the bottle just before it hit the doorframe and exploded. “What the hell are you doing?”

Emily crouched low, looking for a way to escape and keep his shirt closed over the dancing-pickle boxers at the same time. If she had to, she’d leap over the veranda into the pool. Then, if she didn’t drown, she’d run for help.

“If you think just because you picked me up on the freeway, that you can handcuff me and play...
kinky sex games,
you’re sadly mistaken, bucko!” she shrieked, her eyes wild.

Ty ran his hands through his hair in exasperation. Bucko? Her reaction to Roxanne’s gift seemed a little prissy in light of the fact that she was a street person. How on earth had she found the damn thing in the first place? He’d stashed it in his underwear drawer, for crying out loud....

Ah. His eyes swept over her slender body, clad only in his dress shirt and boxers. She’d showered. And merciful mama, she cleaned up very nicely. She must have found it while looking for something to wear.

Glancing from her smooth, tanned thighs up to her face, he could see the gears turning in her brain. Ever so slowly, she began to back toward the French doors that led to the veranda. What on earth was she doing?

Moving farther into the room, Ty said, “I don’t think you should go out there...”

“Don’t come near me!” she warned, her voice deadly.

“Hey, now. Wait a minute. You’ve got it all wrong here.” Ty stepped farther into the room toward her.

“Stop!” she cried, clutching his shirt closed across her breasts as she worked her way to the doors.

Ty glanced out to the veranda. If she thought she could make it to the pool from up here, she was sadly mistaken, he thought worriedly. It was much farther than it looked. Not wanting to add scraping a dead body off his patio to his already totally bad day, he decided to stop her.

He hadn’t been his university’s starting quarterback for nothing. Bolting across the room, he cut her off at the pass, lifted her lithe and wriggling body into his arms and tackled her on the bed. Her howls of terror could wake the dead.

“Shh! You’ll wake up the kid!” he rasped as, tired of trying to convince her to shut up, he covered her mouth with his hand. “Ouch!” he yelped when she bit down hard. Jerking his hand away from her face, he examined it for blood. “What’d you do that for?”

“Get off me, you pervert!” she grunted, struggling like a wild animal beneath his powerful body.

However, Ty, being more experienced in contact sports, held her firmly in place by throwing a leg over her flailing limbs and pinning her arms down next to her sides.

“Now hang on just a minute here! You’ve got this all wrong!
Ouch!
Damn it!” He groaned and clutched his lower midsection where her knee had connected with one of his more vulnerable areas. “Would you knock it off? I’m trying to explain...
Uff!
”

Good heavens, she was a wildcat. Lucky thing he’d never run up against her in a football game. He’d never have stood a chance, he thought sourly as he pulled her fingers out of his nose and eyes.

Man, oh, man, she was a slippery devil, and she fought dirty. It was all he could do to keep her legs from knocking him senseless. He lunged at her ankles as she escaped from beneath him and crawled like a crab, hell-bent for water, to the edge of the bed.

“Will you just
chill out?
” he gasped, lurching after her as she slithered off the bed. “
Ow!
Hey! That hurt!” he yelped as she reached up and clobbered him in the eye with his alarm clock.

“Why, you surprise me,” she grunted sarcastically, trying to free her ankle from his death grip. “I thought you sex fiends were into pain!” Flailing her arms like a windmill in a hurricane, she proceeded to send his lamp crashing to the floor, along with the contents of his nightstand.

“Oh, for the love of—” No wonder she was homeless. She’d probably torn her home down. And, at the rate she was going, he’d be out on the street with her in no time. “I’ve been trying to tell you... I’m not a pervert!” he roared, hauling her back up onto the bed next to him.

“Sure!” she yelled. “Just don’t get into an accident. The doctor might not understand your taste in underwear!” Rolling over to the opposite side of the bed, she kicked his other nightstand over.

Growing infinitely weary of her American Gladiator act, Ty decided he’d had enough. He couldn’t begin to imagine what his neighbors must be thinking. “Shut up!” he growled.
“Now!”
He clamped his hand back over her mouth and hoped she wouldn’t bite again.

Looking down into her fear-filled, liquid brown eyes, he shook his head and exhaled heavily. She was terrified and he didn’t blame her. But he had to admire her spunk. Something about this little spitfire turned him on.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Honest.” He didn’t know what else he could say to convince her.