Husband by the Hour (20 page)

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Authors: Susan Mallery

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Large Type Books, #Love Stories

BOOK: Husband by the Hour
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"You guessed. I never thought anyone would."

"I saw the broom in the back of your car."

She chuckled, then stood up and headed to the front porch. It had been a warm day and the house hadn't cooled off much. Outside, the stars were bright in the night sky.

She leaned against the railing and inhaled. The sweet air smelled of freshly cut grass and spring flowers. Whatever happened, she was pleased she'd come to Glenwood. She would remember this time forever.

"Did you come outside to give us a break?" Travis asked as he joined her.

"I wouldn't complain if I was dealt out of a hand or two. I can't believe how well I'm doing. I'm not usually that lucky at cards." She stared at him, his features shadowy in the faint light of the porch. "You're not all letting me win so I can feel better, are you?"

Travis held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "We're not that nice. Ask anyone who knows us."

"Somehow I think people would say you
are
that nice."

"Maybe, but I promise we're not letting you win."

He settled next to her on the railing. Night creatures called to each other. Hannah felt herself relaxing. It had been a lazy day. All she needed was a warm bath and maybe a couple of kisses from Nick. She smiled. She could offer to work off some of the debt. She had a feeling he might not protest the exchange.

"Did you really meet Nick on a cruise?" Travis asked.

There was nothing in his tone to make her worry, but she stiffened and had to swallow before speaking. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious. How long have you been married?"

Frantically, she tried to remember the lies. Nick had wanted to come up with a story together. She'd been too pigheaded to cooperate and now she was paying the price. Had they said how long they'd been married?

"We met on a cruise about four years ago."

"Nick said five."

Then she got it. Travis had overheard part – or all – of her conversation with Nick last weekend. She closed her eyes and prayed for direction. What was she supposed to say to him? What should she confess and what should she keep secret?

Maybe she should just tell him everything. But what would he think of her? What would he think of Nick? Would he want to take some action against him? She reminded herself that Nick wasn't really wanted for anything, at least not yet. But if she told the truth, what would happen? If she told the truth, Nick would leave.

"Where was he born?"

She exhaled. At least she had the right answer this time. "In a little town north of
Santa Barbara
. It was just him and his dad. His mother died when he was born."

Travis paced to the front of the house and back. He stopped in front of Hannah. "Try
Philadelphia
."

"What?"

"I ran him through the computer, Hannah. Nick Archer, born Nicholas Robert Archer, grew up in
Philadelphia
. Both his parents are dead, although his mother died only a couple of years ago."

Hannah felt the blood rushing from her head. The world tilted and she had the terrifying sensation of losing control. After a couple of deep breaths, she realized she wasn't going to faint, although the situation did call for desperate measures.

Had Nick lied to her about his family? She couldn't believe that. The way he'd talked about his father and the violence – that had to be real.

So why did the computer say differently?

"What else did the computer say?" she asked, barely able to speak the words. What hideous crimes had he concealed from her?

"He's clean." Travis sounded almost disappointed. "No outstanding warrants, no criminal record."

Thank goodness, she breathed silently.

"There are very few records at all," he said. "The ones there show that he's only been in
Southport
Beach
about a year. And there's no mention of his being married."

She was tall, but her brother was taller. In the darkness, he was a large, dangerous man.

"Where do the two of you live?" Travis asked.

She gave her address, mostly because she didn't know Nick's.

"Funny, but that's not what's in the computer."

She wanted to die. She wanted to blurt out the truth. And in some strange way, she wanted to protect Nick. She knew instinctively that despite the bravado he put on about his criminal life, he wouldn't want her brothers to think badly of him.

"It's not what you think," she said quickly, then wondered what on earth she was going to say.

Travis folded his arms over his chest. "Then tell me what it is."

"He's…" She closed her eyes for a second, then received divine inspiration. "He's a private citizen working with local law enforcement on a sting operation. I can't go into details. It involves several beachfront developments in the area. Because of that, he has his own place. Most people don't know that we're married."

Travis didn't look as if he bought the story. She crossed her fingers behind her back and wondered if this lie was big enough to send her south when her time was up. She hoped not.

"He often has to come to the station and talk to Captain Rodriguez. The operation requires him to deal with a lot of criminal types. You can call down and check on that if you'd like. But please be careful. I don't want anything to happen to Nick."

Of everything she'd said, only the last sentence was true. She felt as if she were being ripped apart. Two voices screamed in her head. One demanded that she simply tell the truth. So what if Nick left and she never saw him again? Wasn't it more important that she not lie to her family? What had happened to honor?

The other voice merely whispered. It repeated all the kind things Nick had said and done on her behalf. It reminded her that he couldn't be all bad. It wasn't possible. The voice spoke of how she felt in his arms and what it was like to laugh with him. If not for Nick…

"I'm sheriff here," Travis said. "I'm also your brother. I'm here for you if there's ever a problem. Of any kind. I want you to know that, Hannah."

Tears burned in her eyes. She felt lower than a snake's fanny pack.

He pulled her close and held her tightly against his chest. He didn't believe her. Who could believe that ridiculous story? Yet he wasn't calling her a liar, or throwing her out, or threatening to expose her. In fact, she was sure Travis hadn't discussed this matter with anyone.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"That's what family is for," he told her.

In his warm embrace, for the first time since she'd arrived nearly a week before, she felt as if she belonged.

Chapter 11

«
^
»

N
ick put down the book he was reading and glanced at the clock on the mantel. It was after nine. Hannah had joined her brothers for a friendly game of poker, but he'd declined to participate.

He rose to his feet and crossed to the window. Was Hannah a good poker player? He could imagine she wouldn't have any trouble hiding her excitement or disappointment with her cards, but she might not have the courage to bluff well. The cautious lady probably played cautious cards.

The night was beautiful – clear, cool, quiet. Yet instead of enjoying the beauty, he fought an edgy restlessness. He'd spent too much time alone not to recognize the symptoms. The gnawing in his gut, the need to keep moving, no matter what. If he stayed still, if he allowed himself to listen to the silence, he would hear the faint whisper of pain.

He was tired of being lonely. He wanted to connect.

He swore softly, wondering when Hannah had first gotten under his skin. He knew it had started months before. Maybe the first day he'd noticed her and had invited her to run away with him. She'd been too startled to speak. Big doe eyes had widened as her mouth had parted in shock. Then she figured it was all a joke and had put him in his place with some scathing remark. He couldn't remember what she'd said. It didn't matter. He'd known then that he rattled her cage and he couldn't wait to do it again.

Teasing Hannah had been his favorite hobby. He'd looked forward to seeing her. But he'd never thought about making it real … until this past week. Until he'd spent time with her, had caught glimpses of the tenderness she kept concealed under layers of toughness. Until he'd held her in his arms and kissed her and begun to suspect this was a woman he might never forget.

He played a game, allowing himself to see what the future could have been like if he'd been someone else. A different kind of man.

He knew the past kept him trapped. Maybe he should think about letting it go. But he couldn't. Those images, that pain, were as much a part of him as his bones and skin. Imprinted on every cell were the beatings, the suffering, the uncertainty. The latter had been the worst. He'd never known when. Each morning, he'd awakened with the question – would his father drink today?

Sometimes they went weeks without an incident, even a couple of months. Then his father wouldn't come home from work and Nick would lie awake and wait. Hours or days later, he would return. Drunk, angry, mean. Broken and bleeding, Nick had vowed never to feel that much pain again, and he'd kept that vow. He'd never worried about being physically hurt. That wasn't the pain he feared. Instead it was the emotional betrayal – a loved one turning on him for no reason. He'd kept his promise to himself, too. He'd avoided getting involved.

With the hindsight of an adult, he knew it was time to make peace with that angry child from his past. It might even be time to take a chance on love.

Did he dare? Did he even know how? After all these years of withdrawing emotionally, did he know how to love anyone? He'd never tried.

He caught a flash of movement through the trees and turned toward the front door of the gatehouse. Hannah pushed it open and walked into the room.

Energy vibrated in the air around her. She crossed her arms protectively across her chest, her face pale. He moved to her side.

"What's wrong?"

"I…" She shook her head. "Nothing."

He wanted to pull her against him and hold her until whatever was troubling her went away. Yet something told him to wait and listen. He stood next to her, close enough to touch. He inhaled the scent of her body, sweet and familiar, and again felt the longing he'd experienced earlier.

She circled the room as if examining it, then moved to the sofa and sat down. He crouched next to her.

"Hannah?"

She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them and stared at him. "Travis asked me about you."

"I'm not surprised. He overheard our conversation last Sunday."

"You knew? You knew and you didn't tell me?"

He settled next to her on the sofa. "I wasn't sure how much he'd heard or if he was going to say anything. I didn't want to upset you."

She covered her face with her hands. "It was awful. I don't even want to think about it. He knows something's not right."

"Tell me what happened."

She shuddered. "He asked how long we'd been married. I didn't know what to say. You're right. We should have come up with a story in advance. What was I thinking? I can't believe I was that stubborn."

"I can. It's one of your more endearing qualities."

She glared at him. "This is no time for humor."

"It's exactly the time for humor. Poor Hannah. I understand why you're upset. It's okay. What did Travis say when you told him the truth?"

She sprang to her feet and faced him. With her hands on her hips, her chin raised high, her eyes bright with anger, she looked like a pagan princess. He'd never wanted her more.

"I didn't tell him the truth."

Nick couldn't have been more startled if she'd confessed to murder. "You lied to Travis?"

"Yes. I did." Each word was clipped as if speaking was an effort. "What did you expect me to do? Confess all?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

She turned away. "I couldn't. He asked where you were born and I told him. I told him about your parents, about your mom dying when you were born and how you were raised by your dad."

Nick winced. "And he said it was all a lie."

She nodded.

Dammit. Now what? Hannah had lied for him. He didn't understand why, but he knew what it had cost her. Honorable Hannah, who took herself and her job very seriously. What had he done to her?

He stood up and placed his hands on her shoulders. She flinched but didn't pull away. "I know what's in my computer file," he murmured. "That I was born in
Philadelphia
. My parents died a while ago, my mother most recently. Of course there isn't any record of our 'marriage.'"

"You lied to me," she whispered.

She stood with her back to him. He wanted to turn her around so she faced him, but he knew she would resist that. Instead, he tried to tell her the truth with his touch on her shoulders and with his words.

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