Cameron, Paige - The Billionaire Maverick Bargains for a Wife [Wives for the Western Billionaires 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) (2 page)

Brent swung out of the truck. “Dad is tickled that he has a namesake.” He took a deep breath of the air. As much as he loved his mother, she’d coddled him a little too much since he got shot during his last job. It was good to be on his own. Strolling along beside Drake, he felt relaxed. The shop’s name caught his eye.

“The Cut and Curl,” he spoke out loud. He stopped and Drake stood beside him. They both glanced inside.

Brent caught his breath. A woman sat in a chair opposite the window. The beautician was combing her hair. It fell to the bottom of the chair where she sat. The light blonde color flashed with gold as the brush slid through the long strands. He’d never seen anything as beautiful.

His heart jumped when he saw the hairdresser pick up her scissors. Without thinking, Brent ran into the shop. “Stop.”

The woman looked around at him like he was crazy, and he must have been “Don’t cut her hair. It would be a sacrilege.”

She put the scissors down and looked beyond his shoulder. “Is this crazy man your brother, Drake? He looks like you.”

Drake’s hand settled on Brent’s shoulder. “I’m afraid I have to claim him. You’ll have to forgive him. He’s been sick.”

Brent turned his head to frown at Drake. “I’m well now.”

He walked over to the woman sitting in the chair with her hair spread gloriously around her body. She hadn’t turned. He spun her chair around. He didn’t recognize her, but something about her seemed familiar.

“Mr. Terrell, do you go around accosting women in beauty shops?”

Her sultry voice flowed over him like heat from the sun. Her beautiful eyes stared at him, a twinkle barely discernable in their depths.

“You have me at a disadvantage, madam. Have we met?”

“I’m brokenhearted that you’d forget. But I’ll forgive you since it’s been three years or more, and we only met briefly.”

Brent frowned. He seldom forgot a face, and certainly not someone as lovely as this woman. Her eyes were laughing at him.

“Perhaps, we could become reacquainted? I’m Brent Terrell, and you are?”

“Angelina McElvaine.”

“The schoolteacher?” He had trouble believing the shy, quiet schoolteacher he’d met briefly owned that head of hair. How had he missed it before? But of course, she’d worn it in a tight bun, and it was black when they’d met.

“You changed your hair color and”—he leaned closer—“you’ve done something to your eyes.” They reminded him of pansies, a purplish-blue color with a soft and tender expression. For a brief second, he thought he saw a flash of fear.

“A very observant man. Now if you’ll excuse me, Doris is in the middle of doing my hair.”

“Why do you want to cut it?”

“Brent, we need to be going. Angie doesn’t have to explain why she’s doing anything,” Drake reminded him.

Ignoring Drake, Brent stepped closer, “Don’t do it, please.” Looking around, he saw several other women studying him. Embarrassed at seeing the laughter in their eyes, he nodded and backed out the door.

“What the hell was that all about, Brent?” Drake asked as he shut the door behind them.

“I don’t know what came over me. Maybe I’m not as well as I thought.” What he didn’t want to admit even to Drake was that when Miss McElvaine turned and looked at him with those eyes and that wonderful hair surrounding her face, he’d felt a rush of desire go straight to his cock.

“You can apologize to her tomorrow at the barbecue. She’s a good friend of Janice’s.” He chuckled. “I can’t wait to tell Janice about this incident. She’s not ever going to let you forget it.” Laughing he opened the door and motioned Brent into the restaurant.

Brent wasn’t sure he ever wanted to see, what did they call her, Angie, again? He was beginning to realize how stupid he’d acted. Still at the thought of seeing her, hot blood surged through his body.

* * * *

“See,” Doris said. “I told you not to cut your hair.”

“And you think just because Brent Terrell says don’t do it, I should change my mind.”

“Honey,” an older woman sitting in the seat next to her spoke up, “if that man ever looked at me like he did at you, I’d never touch my hair with a pair of scissors again. A man like him could put his boots under my bed anytime.”

The other women nosily agreed, and laughter filled the shop. Doris stood back and gave Angie the once-over. “You’ve changed your appearance with new clothes that fit and quit using those contacts. I’ll cut some bangs and a few wisps of hair to curl around your face. You’re looking great just as you are. Don’t change yourself too much.”

“What she needs is someone to teach her how to be sexy,” Old Lady Stouffer said. “Sitting at home with your momma these past few years has made you shy and reclusive. It’s good to see you coming out of your shell, and I know just the person to help finish the project. I’m sending my granddaughter to your house this evening. You listen to her.”

Before Angie could protest, Mrs. Stouffer left the shop. Doris grinned. “She’s a case, that lady. There were plenty of rumors about her love life when she was young. She’s right. You need a little push to get you started finding a man.”

“I don’t want a man.”

“Honey, no woman goes through a transformation like you are without a good reason. You must be husband hunting.”

She decided letting them think that might be a good idea. She didn’t want them speculating on what other reasons she might have to change her appearance.

“You found me out, Doris. I’m lonely since Mom’s gone. I wouldn’t mind at least having a man friend.”

The women sitting around chuckled. They all understood that need.
Good, I've ended the speculation right here
. Gossip thrived in Saddle Creek, as in most small towns, and soon everyone would hear the shy schoolteacher was hunting a husband.

All she really wanted was a child. In this day and age, you didn’t need a man. A sperm clinic would do the job, but not here, where she planned to live. Here, she needed a husband, or at least a temporary one.

Angie was surprised at the difference a fringe of bangs and a few wisps of hair made. It gave her a softer look, and emphasized her eyes. Her mom had always said they were her best feature. Her grandmother’s eyes were the same color.

Blushing at the risqué comments made as she started to leave, Angie peeked out first to make sure Brent wasn’t anywhere around.

She had an idea. Could she make a bargain with him? He didn't visit Saddle Creek often, so that made him a good candidate for number four in her plan. But did she dare try to snare Brent Terrell into being her temporary husband?

If he agreed, after they had a child, she’d give him a divorce. She’d sign a prenuptial agreement and ask for no support. She had money saved and a good job. She didn’t need him, except for having the child. They’d have a very convenient and amiable marriage and divorce. He’d go back to his job, whatever it was, and she’d be a respected, single mother.

Liar.
When he’d looked into her eyes, she gotten hot, and a heavy feeling settled in her lower abdomen. For years she’d kept her emotions bottled up. What might happen if Brent uncorked that bottle? Could she just take their baby and walk away unscathed?

No, Brent Terrell was not a safe choice for the father of her child. But heck, she’d played it safe for the past twenty-one years. It was time for a change in more ways than one.

Teresa, Mrs. Stouffer’s granddaughter, was waiting at her door when she returned home. Angie parked her car, grabbed her bags, and unlocked the door.

“You really didn’t need to come over, Teresa. I’m sure you had other plans already made.”

“No problem, Miss McElvaine. I wasn’t doing anything this afternoon, so thought I’d come see you. I think this will be fun. Grandma says you met a guy you want to impress. I can help. I like guys, and they like me.” Her brown eyes sparkled with mischief.

“I’m sure they do, Teresa, but I’m older than you, and not as pretty.” Angie put her bags on the table and opened the windows to let in the afternoon breeze. She saw Teresa peeking at what she’d bought at the local women’s apparel shop. She’d stopped there on her way home.

“This is cool.” Teresa pulled a low cut, purple blouse out. “Wear this with a neat pair of jeans and you’ll look great. Now let’s see how to make you sexy.” Her eyes glinted with laughter.

“You want to appear confident, as though you know every man around finds you attractive. When you see the particular one, you make eye contact.” She walked around the room showing Angie what she meant. Confidence showed in her every step. Then she looked directly at Angie for a second, then away.

“See what I mean. Get his attention with your eyes, and then pull away slightly. You might lick your lips. It drives the men crazy, and then you look over your shoulder and give him another quick glance. It’s like a dance. You’ve seen those birds on television. They move around, forward, back, to the side.”

Angie fell onto her sofa, laughing. “You just compared the human courtship ritual to a bird’s.” She laughed so hard tears ran out of her eyes.

Teresa joined her. “It is pretty funny, but Grandma says we’re not far from acting like animals most of the time.” This sent them both into peals of laughter.

“Come on.” Teresa pulled her off the sofa. “It’s your turn. Pretend I’m the one.”

Trying to be serious, Angie wiped her eyes and took a deep breath. She envisioned herself moving around a crowd with her shoulders back, knowing she looked good. She almost felt the stares, and then she turned. Instead of Teresa, she imagined Brent, his light blue eyes giving her the once-over. A rush of heat flowed through her veins. She held the glance for a second, turned her head and moved one step forward before glancing over her shoulder.

“Wow, you’re a fast learner. You already know who you’re going to use that look on. I can tell Grandma you’ll do just fine.” She laughed. “Poor man, he won’t know what hit him.”

Chapter Two

Harmon Yannell, Angie’s stepfather, paced the floor of his office in Philadelphia. “That damn FBI agent, Glynes, is determined to bring me down and put me in prison.”

“But it wasn’t him this time, Harmon,” his number-one man spoke up. “Someone outside the agency captured Fred and turned him over to Glynes. Fred would die before he betrayed you. It’s been months now since he was caught. If he’d talked, we’d know.”

“I suppose you’re right, but I still feel Glynes’s hot breath on the back of my neck. He’s getting closer, and there are two people, somewhere, who know secrets that could topple my whole organization. We’d be in big trouble if he found them.”

“Your runaway wife and her daughter disappeared years ago. They’re probably dead, or we’d have discovered their hiding place.”

“Or we missed them somehow. Get a few men together and start another search. Find out if they’re alive or dead. If they’re not dead, make them that way. And put a tail on Glynes. I want to know every step he takes. I’d take him out, but then the whole FBI force wouldn’t stop until they had me.”

“Right, boss.”

Harmon threw himself in his chair. He never should have married the bitch. Her looks had caught his attention, especially her golden hair and lush body. She was smart, and wouldn’t put out without a ring on her finger. She’d had a young daughter who lived with them. The daughter had never liked him, but the first year of the marriage had been all right. She’d given him a daughter as lovely as her. Then when Lily was about one, his wife had overheard something she shouldn’t have and found out his real business.

She’d gone ballistic on him. After he slapped her around, he was convinced he had her under control. His mistake. The bitch took her daughter and fled. He had no doubt she’d have taken their daughter, too, but she’d known he’d move heaven and earth until he found her.