A Wife by Accident (3 page)

She didn’t look any more alert than a zombie as her lips formed a promise of marriage. He knew she could scarcely believe the sounds were coming from her own mouth. He couldn’t believe it either. The world blurred and then cleared when Gary took her hand in his and slipped the wedding ring onto her trembling finger.

What sorts of lightning bolts would God use to strike him down for this?
he
wondered.

She held out her hand and stared at the platinum band looped with shiny diamonds, and all at once it was as if her senses
came
sailing back to her. She touched the ring gingerly and jumped as if the metal had shocked her, but then Gary slid his hand over hers again.

“You may kiss the bride,” the minister finished.

Gary turned
Hayely
around to him, tucked his finger underneath her chin and raised her face to his. Darn if she wasn’t prettier than he remembered. Those glossy grey eyes full of fear and uncertainty made him want to gather her into his arms and apologize for ever meeting her. But
Hayely
came complete with other distractions that interested him more at the moment. Her red rose petal lips begged to be kissed and he lowered his mouth dutifully to hers.

•

Hayely
wasn’t prepared for the jolt that leapt through her body. She’d been kissed before, longer and more passionately than this and by men she’d actually known for more than a few days. But this kiss, this delicate brush of Gary Tarleton’s lips against hers, sent a shock through her. Consorting with the
enemy,
came the sudden thought.

“I’ll see my way out,” the minister said as he pushed his little round glasses higher up on his nose for the second time. “I can see you two want to be alone.”

“You do that,” Gary answered without breaking the contact his gaze had found with
Hayely’s
. Her lips were only inches away. If he wanted to, he had the perfect excuse to kiss her again before she slipped away into business partner status again.

Hayely
waited until the man with his little round glasses had disappeared through the doorway before she took a step back from Gary.

“What exactly was that supposed to be?”

Gary’s eyebrows rose at the angry tone in her voice. “It’s traditional to kiss the bride. The minister would have wondered if we hadn’t.”

“Well, my lips weren’t part of the deal.”

“A believable, make-believe wife is,” he countered with a lopsided grin.

“Yeah?
And how believable is a groom with three days worth of stubble and a T-shirt?”

“
Charlie’ll
show you the ropes,” he called as he turned and walked abruptly out of the house.

Hayely
felt something akin to bewilderment as Gary left.
Downright rude.
That’s what he was. One minute he was kissing her, the next minute annoying her—and then suddenly she was watching the door shut directly behind the seat of his jeans.

Charlie rested his hand on her shoulder and brought her back to the present. “Ready to get to work?” he asked.

She nodded. “I think that would be best.”

“Great.” Charlie smiled. “Let’s start with the tour.”

Charlie led
Hayely
around the first floor of the mansion. She lost count of how many rooms there were, but she distinctly remembered an exercise room, library with shelves built from floor to ceiling, an amazing blue-tiled indoor swimming pool, and a kitchen loaded with shiny, copper-colored appliances that any world-class chef would drool over …

They took the winding staircase to the second floor where Charlie said the bedrooms and bathrooms were. Every word he spoke echoed back to them. Gary’s room, an enormous master bedroom, had only a mattress placed flat on the floor, but the possibilities were endless.

Hayely
could imagine a set of gossamer, cream-colored curtains flowing against the ornate glass doors that opened up onto a high balcony. Not too frilly, but not so masculine as to weigh down the atmosphere. The adjoining bathroom with its round black marble tub was distinctly male, though. It screamed for thick terrycloth towels with a GT monogram embroidered in gold at their ends. She knew just where to buy those.

“So what do you think?” Charlie asked with an eager tone in his voice.

“I think I’m going to have the best time decorating this place. What’s my budget?” For the first moment in the past few months, she was actually looking forward to something in her life. It was enough to almost push the earlier part of the morning out of her mind for a time.

“Budget?”
Charlie laughed out loud. “There is no budget. Gary has accounts everywhere with your name already added to them.” He handed her a credit card, which also had her name on it in metallic raised letters. “There’s no credit limit on this one. Gary wants only the best in this house.”

“That could cost an arm and a leg and probably the other leg, too.”
Hayely
couldn’t take her eyes off the credit card. She’d expected to see her last name, Black, imprinted there. But instead it read clear as crystal: “
Hayely
Tarleton.” It seemed Gary had thought of every detail to make the charade seem real to the outside world.

“How did he get the credit card so fast?”

Charlie smiled at her. “You really don’t have a clue
who
Gary Tarleton is, do you?”

“Oh, I’m getting a hint. But I’m also starting to get the feeling I have some research to do.” She looked in awe up to the high ceiling as she stepped back down the staircase. Whoever he was, he apparently carved out a comfortable living for himself. His house was straight out of one of those fantasy home shows on cable television.

“Gary says that if you can’t find exactly the right furniture locally, you should feel free to travel or buy it off the Internet. You have complete creative freedom. Gary is the master of delegation. I think it’s one of the secrets of his success—that he just instinctively knows what people are good at. Take me for example. When we met almost twenty years ago in the—”

Charlie had definitely piqued
Hayely’s
curiosity. “In the what?” she asked, urging him to continue. She just might start her research on Gary right then and there with Charlie.

Charlie waved his hand dismissively.
“Never mind.
I’ve said too much already and it’s not my place to give away Gary’s secrets. Just know that he’s a good man, and he always honors his deals.”

“Is he always so aloof? He’s barely said two words to me since I smashed his watch. And I have to wonder what kind of man feels comfortable with an arrangement like we have now.”

Charlie looked at her quizzically. He was used to women asking how much Gary’s fortune was really worth or what he desired in a woman so that they could mold themselves into whatever description Charlie gave. He’d had quite a good laugh watching reactions to whatever wild tale he created in a moment of humor.

Once he’d told someone that Gary loved to see women wear pink, and for the longest time that was the only color any eligible female in town would wear. Little did they know that Gary hated the “
foofy
”
color.
But never once over the years had any of them asked anything personal about Gary, and never once had any
of them
looked as openly sincere as
Hayely
Black. Would that change after she found out more about Gary?

“Don’t take it personally,” he finally said. “Gary watches people. Don’t mistake silence for lack of interest. He’s quite the charmer once he gets to know someone.”

“And how much time does that usually take? To get to know him, I mean.” The thought of tiptoeing on eggshells around Gary Tarleton for six months wasn’t something
Hayely
thought she could endure without at least trying to learn something of the man. Her friendly nature would get in the way.

“Honestly?” Charlie asked. “I don’t think you’d be able to do it within your six months. Then again you might. Who really knows the dark mind of Gary Tarleton?” He chuckled to himself.

“Well, I suppose I’ll have to give up on the idea of friendliness then. But, for the sake of the show, you’d better give me some basics. For starters, what’s his usual schedule? I’d like to know when to be out of the way.”

“He works pretty much every day. He’s up at sunrise and home late. But you have a key, so come and go as you please.”

“Does he have any favorites?
Colors?
Furniture styles?
Fabrics?”
Hayely
was at a loss. How could she decorate a mansion when she didn’t even know the owner’s taste? Then again, she wasn’t even sure she could do the job in the first place. She was an executive assistant with a college degree she’d never put to use if she could help it.

“I don’t think he’d take the time to care about most of those things. Except, I’d avoid pink if I were you.”

“Ok, no pink then. Can you at least tell me which room he uses the most?”

Charlie’s blue eyes lighted up. “That one I can answer.
His den.
He spends a lot of time there.”

“That would be the room with the card table and a folding chair?”

Charlie nodded with a grin.

“Then that’s where I’ll begin.”

Hayely
smiled brilliantly. She couldn’t wait to get started on her newfound project. She’d just received an exclusive catalog in the mail from one of the finest furniture makers in Vermont, a store her mother used to frequent. Would they ship all the way to Nevada? There was only one way to find out.

•

Hayely’s
Sunday couldn’t have begun better. Already she’d placed an extravagant furniture order for Gary’s den. With enough exquisitely carved mahogany and leather to fill the room, she couldn’t wait for the shipment to arrive. She hadn’t actually seen Gary since the day before when they’d finalized their agreement—she couldn’t bring herself to think of it as her wedding day.

With paintbrush in hand, she stretched high on the ladder to reach the top corner of the den wall near the empty bookshelves. She’d chosen a shade of blue that would have been
royal
if it hadn’t been subdued with just enough grey to keep it classy. The tones would lend themselves well to the rich, warm woods of the furniture that was scheduled to arrive in the middle of the week.

With each stroke of the brush, her mind drifted back more insistently to that single, soft kiss. The memory of it made her sigh out loud. Lord, if that’s what the man could cause in her with a polite semi-kiss, what damage could he do if he really tried? What damage could he do if she actually liked him?

•

Gary kicked off his work boots at the front door and stepped quietly across the foyer as he approached the light-filled entrance to his office.
The sleepy yellow glow from a chandelier that hadn’t been there before made him smile.
He’d expected the woman to do the job, but he hadn’t thought she’d start right in the next morning. A good work ethic was something he could always appreciate. For once, he was glad he’d left work earlier than usual.

Hayely
stretched up as tall as she could, leaning forward into the ladder as she put some final dabs of paint on the wall. Gary remained quiet with his hands in his pockets. He’d been wrong when he’d thought she wasn’t pretty enough to draw unwanted attention. From what he could see, she was nothing short of beautiful in her worn jeans and T-shirt. The sedate dresses he’d seen her in before hadn’t come close to doing her justice.

Her smooth, slender arms moved in gentle waves across the wall, looking so feminine and graceful that he had to watch, and then watch some more. That song had said something about never making a pretty woman your wife, and Gary wished he’d remembered those lyrics before now. He felt guilty enough for luring her into the situation as it was, but to add physical attraction to the mix simply wasn’t acceptable. He had other female employees; this one should be no different.

As she dropped the brush and stepped off the ladder,
Hayely’s
hand fluttered to her chest the way he noticed it often did when she was startled. “How long have you been standing there?” The shock added a little splash of color to her cheeks. He liked it.

“Long enough.”

Hayely
took a moment to gather her wits as best she could. She composed herself quickly. He liked that, too.

“Your eyes get green when you’re thinking evil thoughts.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“I stocked your bathroom with soaps and towels today. I thought you might want a hot shower after work.”

Gary walked across the room and picked up the fallen paintbrush from its place on the newspaper-covered floor. He reached his arm around her.

“You missed a spot.”

“Thank you,” was all she said.

Gary handed the brush back to her. She pulled her hand back quickly and almost dropped the brush again when his finger accidentally touched hers.

Gary pondered the expression in her eyes. She wasn’t flirting, wasn’t fawning over him, but of course she wouldn’t—she didn’t even know the magnitude of his wealth if what Charlie said was right. She knew he owned an impressive house, was fairly well off and had cornered her into doing exactly what he wanted. Something other than attraction might turn those eyes of hers into shining silver that reflected
his own
face back to him. Maybe what he saw there was actually open dislike. Or fear. After all, he’d been tyrant enough to insist on an arrangement she couldn’t possibly enjoy.