Husband by the Hour (12 page)

"Swindle anybody lately?" Kyle asked, grinning.

Nick returned his smile. "Not this week."

He finished installing the last bracket and climbed down the step stool. The wallpaper border was nearly complete. Craig released the miniblind so it zipped down, covering the window. He turned the handle, opening the slats, and sunlight filled the room.

"Looks great,"
Jordan
said, surveying their work. "I guess the women will be over later to take care of the drapes."

Travis and Kyle smoothed the remaining wallpaper into place. Craig leaned over and punched
Jordan
in the arm. "You getting scared yet?"

Jordan
didn't smile. "Terrified. When we're in bed at night, I can feel the baby kicking against my side. What do I know about being a father?"

Kyle nodded. "I know the feeling, but if I can do it, you'll be fine. You sort of learn as you go. Besides, we'll all be here."

Nick listened to their conversation. These men had a special bond. They cared for each other and they would care for Hannah. If she let them.

She'd spent most of her life assuming the worst about people. She'd concluded that if they tried to get close, they must want something from her. So much of her energy was consumed in attempting to hide her feelings. Her whole outlook would have been different if she'd been raised in this warm, close-knit family. Knowing Hannah as he did, he was sure she was going to resist believing something this great had happened to her. She would get all prickly and try to scare them off. Unless something – or someone – stopped her.

As he had a thousand times before, he wondered why he cared so much about Hannah Pace. She sure as hell didn't go out of her way to be pleasant to him. The combination of strength and insecurity was appealing. As was the sway of her hips and the flash of intelligence in her eyes. Maybe it was because she hadn't been easy. Most women gave in too quickly to his charm. Never Hannah. She would rather live with roaches than date him.

At first, he'd started teasing her because she seemed such an ice queen. It gave him pleasure to rattle her cage. Then he'd found he liked her snappy retorts and he'd begun looking forward to seeing her. Somewhere along the line, teasing respect had turned to affection. Maybe because he knew it was safe. With Hannah, it would never be real.

If he was honest with himself, he would have to admit his desire to help her fit in with her family wasn't completely altruistic. If he smoothed the way for her, she would remember him fondly, even after he was gone.

"I've got cold beer in the fridge,"
Jordan
said. "Louise left some sandwiches."

The men started down the stairs. Nick followed last. As their conversation drifted back to him, he began wondering what it would be like if this was for real. If he were married to Hannah and a part of this family.

He shook his head. Whom was he trying to kid? He had still been in elementary school when he'd learned the most important lesson of all – not to get attached. He'd lived by that rule and it had served him well.

* * *

Hannah frowned at her reflection. It wasn't that she didn't like what she saw in the mirror. It was the fact that her hands trembled.

"I can't believe this," she muttered. "All it takes is one family dinner and I'm a basket case."

She drew in a deep breath. It was only dinner with people she'd already met. No big deal. All right, so Louise had mentioned everyone would be dressing. Not formally, just not jeans. So this time they were expecting her and might have had time to think up difficult questions. She would survive. It wouldn't be so bad.

She opened her eye shadow compact and lifted out the tiny brush. Her fingers shook visibly and she bit back a curse. She was a trained professional. What happened to performing under pressure?

She leaned forward and closed her left eye. As she positioned the brush over her lid, the bathroom door opened and Nick stepped inside. He wore a blue T-shirt tucked into worn jeans. The color of the shirt matched the irises of his eyes and did amazing things to her already-rapid heart rate. He'd shaved that morning, but there was a faint darkening around his cheeks and jaws as the stubble highlighted his bone structure.

"You going to be much longer?" he asked.

She stared at his reflection, meeting his gaze. "Maybe you didn't notice, but the door was closed."

"I noticed. That's why I came in. How much longer are you going to hog the bathroom?"

"I just need to finish my makeup. A closed door is usually a request for privacy. You could have knocked."

"Yeah, I could have."

He leaned against the wall by the shower and folded his arms over his chest. The action brought his firm muscles into relief. The tiny brush slipped from her fingers and dropped to the counter. She leaned her forehead against the mirror.

"I'm never going to finish," she muttered.

"Then you'll just have to share," he said and pulled the hem of his T-shirt out of his jeans.

She couldn't bear to think about his undressing in her presence. She grabbed the brush. "Never mind, I'll hurry."

She ignored his knowing smile and focused on her eyelid. Using every available ounce of concentration, she was able to smooth a stroke of shadow right in the crease. She smudged it with her ring finger, then straightened to study the effect.

"Beautiful," he said.

She ignored his comment. "What happened with my brothers?"

"The usual. I mentioned how you liked to visit me in prison and that you had a tattoo with my initials right here." He pointed to his backside. "Oh, and I told them about the threesome we had with my cell mate, Bubba, on your last conjugal visit."

In spite of herself, she felt her lips turn up in a smile. "I'm trying to have a serious conversation."

"I'm trying not to." He held up his hands. "Okay, you win. Serious. They asked about real estate, your college. We discussed the baseball season and whether or not the international commodities market is ever going to stabilize."

She closed her right eye and started to apply the makeup. "So nothing dangerous?"

"Not a word. However, tonight could be a different story. It's the banquet for the prodigal daughter. There'll be a fatted calf and tons of questions. So do you want to discuss our stories or should I wing it again?"

She thought about his description of their supposed first meeting. He'd painted such a vivid picture of her hangover on some tropical island that she'd nearly believed him herself. But she couldn't risk more outrageous tales. Not if she planned on coming clean later.

She closed the compact and reached for a pencil eyeliner. "I would need your word that this information would be kept strictly confidential," she warned, still suspicious of his motives.

He stalked toward the counter. She turned to stare at him.

"What are you so damned afraid of?" he asked, obviously irritated. "You can't simply answer the question. You always have to qualify everything. Gee, Hannah, are you afraid you might accidentally reveal something of yourself? The world would probably end if you let someone get to know you, right? In case you haven't noticed, I'm up here because of
you
. I'm doing this for
you
. I don't get a damn thing out of it, so maybe you could start acting a little more like a team player and a little less like the lady of the manor."

His harsh words shocked her, mostly because they hit so close to home. "You're not doing it for me," she snapped. "Don't pretend you are. You're just in it for the money."

"Four hundred bucks? Compared to what I normally make in a few days? Get real."

She stared at him. He had her there. He made and lost millions every month. Why
was
he doing this? It couldn't be for her. Somehow that thought was more terrifying than a grilling quiz by all her relatives.

"Listen, Nick. I don't care why you're here. I'm paying you to look good and keep your mouth shut. That's our deal. If you're not up to it, then leave."

The sharp retort came from fear and she would have given anything to call it back. Something flickered in his blue eyes. Something dark and cold. If she hadn't known better, she would have thought she'd hurt his feelings.

Yeah, right. Nick Archer didn't care about her. He couldn't.

He turned away. She placed her hand on his back to keep him from leaving. His thick muscles bunched against her fingers and her mouth got dry. She would have paid a whole lot more than ten dollars if he would kiss her right now.

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "You're right. I am afraid." He would think she was referring to her family, when in truth they were a lot less scary than her confusing feelings about him. "I didn't mean it. This whole thing has me rattled. Maybe if it was only my mom. But there's everyone else, too. I spoke without thinking." She let her hand fall to her side.

Just when she expected he would walk out of the room and out of her life, he faced her and shrugged. "No big deal. Favorite food?"

"Scallops."

He shuddered. "Little white round things. No thanks. I don't even want to think about eating them. Least favorite food?"

She returned to the mirror and penciled in eyeliner. "
Brussels
sprouts."

"I'll agree with you on that one. When and where did you lose your virginity?"

She laughed. "Don't push it, buster."

"Hey, they might ask."

"Yeah. When and where did you lose yours?"

"The back seat of a Mustang. Her name was Mary and she had these…" He cupped his hands in front of his chest, then grinned. "I was barely seventeen, so I was impressed. I think it took all of fifteen seconds."

She reached for her mascara. "Is there anything you won't talk about?"

"Sexually? Nope."

"And sex is the most important thing in your life?"

He winked. "What did you have in mind?"

"You're hopeless."

"You're not the first one to notice."

He pulled his T-shirt over his head. Hannah stared at his reflection in the mirror. Gold blond hair covered his chest. Her fingers started to tremble again, but this time it wasn't from fear.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

His expression was carefully blank. "We don't have that much time." He motioned to his bare chest. "I was going to take a quick shower. We don't want to be late. Unless I'm bothering you."

She forced herself to concentrate on darkening her eyelashes. If he didn't mind getting naked in front of her, she refused to mind watching. "Be my guest."

As he reached for his button fly, she reminded herself he wasn't the first man she'd seen naked. There had been Shawn, and before him, Jimmy, the guy she'd gone out with in college. She knew what the male form looked like.

Which didn't stop her from nearly poking herself in the eye when he dropped his briefs on the floor.

She jerked her head back and tried to see if her lashes were clumped. Instead, she found herself watching him. Wide shoulders and a broad chest narrowing at the waist and hips. He had long legs, also covered with gold blond hair. While he wasn't aroused, he was still impressive, and she felt a flicker of heat in her belly.

He turned toward the shower and reached for the knob. She had a perfect view of his back and rear. Her fingers itched to squeeze the high, round flesh.

She forced her attention back to her makeup. The mascara she'd already applied would have to be enough. She didn't trust herself with anything near her eyes right now. She reached for the blush and colored her cheekbones. The last item she needed was lipstick.

While she finished her makeup, Nick adjusted the shower temperature. She was surprised at how long it took to find the right combination of hot and cold. Speaking of which, she was running completely on hot. Waves of heat rippled through her, making her knees melt and her thighs quiver. He was beautiful enough to take her breath away when he was dressed. Naked, he made her think about committing borderline illegal acts.

She eyed the lipstick, then realized she was in no condition to apply it. She would be safer if she got out of the bathroom and back under control. As she collected her belongings, he finally stepped into the spray.

She walked toward the door.

"You were looking," Nick called. "That's gonna cost you five bucks."

He stood under the water and grinned. Two seconds later, the door slammed shut. Oh, Hannah, what you do to me, he thought, well pleased by her staring.

Five minutes later, he turned off the water, stepped out and reached for a towel. There on the counter, right next to his shaving kit, was a flat, crisp, five-dollar bill.

Chapter 7

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H
annah approached the large, formally set dining-room table. Her heart pounded in her chest and her palms felt sweaty. She would like to think it was a reaction to having seen Nick naked, and the fact that even as she walked into the dining room, his hand rested on the small of her back. Some of it was, but most of it was nerves. It had only been twenty-four hours and she hadn't adjusted to being part of the Haynes family.