Husband Wanted (8 page)

He was the first to pull away. When he did, he found her staring back at him mutely, her lips red and swollen from his kiss. He smiled knowingly. “Not interested? You could have fooled me.”

“I have to go,” she said, her voice quavering.

“Coward.”

“You’re beginning to annoy me, you know that?”

He noted her fiery-eyed look and grinned. “That must mean I’m making progress.”

She turned and started for the house.

“I’ll walk back with you,” he said, still grinning.

“It isn’t necessary.”

“Oh, but I insist. After all, my father distinctly asked me to look after you.”

They made it back to the house in record time, walking swiftly, saying nothing. They found Walter waiting in the study. “Oh, Frannie, I was just about to come looking for you,” he said. “Come sit on the sofa beside me. I have a surprise.”

Smiling and trying to hide her frustration with the younger Coleman, Frannie crossed the room and joined Walter on the couch. She refused to look at Clay. “I love surprises,” she said.

The older man returned the smile as he pulled a slender box from his jacket and handed it to her. “This is for you,” he said.

She hesitated. Her smile faded slightly as a look of apprehension took its place. “What is it?”

“Why not open it and see for yourself?”

Frannie’s hands trembled as she raised the velvet lid on the jewelry case. She found herself looking at an exquisite pearl choker with matching earrings. “Oh, my,” she said.

“They belonged to my wife. She called them her lucky pearls. I want you to wear them when you go to the airport tomorrow to pick up your daughter. You’ll be less nervous.”

She was speechless; stunned. She sat there for a moment, trying to think of something to say. What
could
she say? Thanks but no thanks? She raised her eyes to his, and tried to think of a polite way of refusing the jewelry without hurting his feelings. His blue eyes were so sincere; they brought a lump to the back of her throat.

Frannie remembered suddenly they weren’t alone. She glanced up and found Clay watching her, a knowing look on his face. She opened her mouth to say something, but he left the room before she could get the words out.

That same pearl choker felt heavy against her throat as Frannie climbed into Clay’s car the following afternoon wearing a smart green linen dress and matching pumps. Blair had come by earlier to apply Frannie’s makeup and put her thick hair in order.

“You look like a princess,” her friend had told her as she ushered Frannie down the winding staircase to the main level.

“I feel like one,” she’d confessed. In just a few days, her life had changed dramatically from the uniform-clad woman who opened the Griddle and Grill at five a.m. each day, worked till three, then studied if there was time before she had to go to class. She no longer knocked around in jeans, sweatshirts, and old sneakers; instead, she wore the very best Blair had to offer. She felt like a storefront mannequin. It was all she could do to keep herself from getting mussed, or stained, or wrinkled. How she longed for her jeans.

Now, as Clay pulled out of the drive, Frannie wondered what he thought of her appearance. She didn’t have to wait long for her answer.

“Nice necklace,” he said, turning onto the main road.

She blushed. “I tried to give it back, but your father insisted I wear it. Finally, I agreed to wear it today, just for luck, but I have every intention of returning it. I would have told you as much if you hadn’t stormed out of the house.”

“I had to catch up on some work at the office,” he said, his voice tense. There was a part of him that believed he was misreading his father’s intentions and that he had changed. But each time he came close to fully believing it, the man said or did something to stir his suspicions.

“It was very rude of you.”

“I’d rather be rude than gullible.”

“And I would rather believe that your father’s heart is in the right place,” she said. “I don’t want to spend my life second-guessing people who show me kindness.”

“I’m surprised,” he said, “after what you’ve been through.”

“I refuse to allow what my father and my daughter’s father did, to cloud my judgment. I refuse to let them win.”

“Win?”

“Turn me into a bitter, angry person. But I’m not going to argue with you or try to defend myself, because I’m soon going to meet my daughter for the very first time, and I want it to be perfect.”

His expression softened. “You’re right,” he said. “It’s time to put our differences aside and concentrate on Mandy.”

Frannie was both touched and relieved by his words. “Thank you.”

The sign for the Savannah airport flashed before them forty-five minutes later. Frannie suddenly felt as though there was no oxygen in the car. “I’m scared, Clay,” she confessed.

He turned those compelling blue eyes on her. “You’ll do fine.”

She patted her hair. “Do I look okay?”

He nodded. “You look every inch a lady,” he said, knowing that’s what she needed to hear at the moment. “And a very
pretty
lady at that,” he added, unable to resist telling her as much. In fact, she looked so prim and proper sitting there, he couldn’t help but wonder what she’d look like with her hair mussed and spilling down her bare shoulders.

“Thank you,” she said, warmed by his compliment. She found herself, not for the first time, recalling the comment he’d made the day before, that he wanted her for himself. She was still annoyed that he’d assumed she would come running, even more so when he suggested they go away together. Had she, as he’d claimed, misunderstood? Did he truly have feelings for her, or was this some ruse to get her in bed? Still, she was in over her head. While she had dated here and there over the years, she had not encouraged anything more than friendship. But then, she had not been as attracted to any man as she was Clay. There; she had acknowledged it. She
was
attracted to him. He could be so thoughtful at times that she suspected he shared her feelings to an extent, but he seemed to be at war with himself as far as trusting her.

Frannie was still wondering about their relationship as they walked into the terminal a few minutes later. People rushed back and forth with their luggage; busy executives sporting expensive briefcases, young mothers struggling with infants and toddlers and bulky diaper bags.

“We’re early,” Clay said, reading the monitor on incoming flights. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Frannie nodded, and they followed the signs to a restaurant and coffee shop. Once served, her hands shook so badly, she had trouble holding her cup. She set it down.

“Hey, take it easy,” Clay said, covering her hand with his. It felt small and delicate and brought out his protective instincts. “You need to calm down.”

“I can’t help it. What if Mandy doesn’t like me?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

Frannie moved her hand, deciding it was easier dealing with frayed nerves than with the strange fluttering in her stomach that his simple touch evoked. If only he hadn’t kissed her the day before.

“Because I gave her up,” she said.

“You had no other choice at the time.”

She looked torn. “I don’t know,” she said after a moment. “I’ve tried to convince myself I made the right decision. Even now I wonder how I would have taken care of her.”

“There’s your answer.”

She shook her head sadly. “But she’s my own flesh and blood, and I let strangers raise her.” Her eyes teared. “Surely, there was something I could have done.
Should
have done,” she added.

Clay felt his gut clench at the sight of her tears and handed her a napkin. “This is not the time to cry, Frannie,” he said, using the same tone a father might with his child. “You don’t want to greet your daughter with red eyes. Besides, you should be happy that you’re finally seeing Mandy.”

She reached into her purse for a small mirror. “You’re right,” she said, using the napkin, blotting the corners of her eyes. “If I don’t watch it, I’ll have mascara dripping all over Blair’s dress.”

He wasn’t listening. He was noting how her tearful green eyes resembled emeralds. He wondered if another man had looked into those eyes and thought the same thing. Perhaps Mandy’s father? He tried to push the thought aside. He realized he had experienced more feelings of jealousy the past few days than he had in his entire life, even during high school where it wouldn’t have seemed so juvenile. What was wrong with him? He knew the answer. He should never have allowed himself to become so drawn to Frannie. She clearly had her future mapped out, and it did not include a relationship. Not with him, not with any man.

“You have beautiful eyes,” he said at last, unable to resist telling her.

Frannie tried to mask her surprise, and then covered her unease by checking her wristwatch. She wished he wouldn’t say things like that to her. It only confused matters, and she needed to keep her wits about her. “We should go,” she said, even though there was still time. She started to push her chair from the table. Clay caught her hand, forcing her to pause.

“You always seem to be running from me, Frannie,” he said. “As though I’m out to hurt you.”

She met his gaze. She wondered what it would be like to look into those eyes while he made love to her. A hot flush spread throughout her body. “Until a few days ago, you barely noticed I was alive.”

“My loss,” he said. “But all that could change if you gave me the go-ahead.”

She leaned closer. “I should not have to remind you that this is all an act, Clay. Once Mandy leaves, the curtain will come down, and we’ll go back to living our separate lives as before.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way.”

“For me it does. I can’t afford to get sidetracked.”

He looked confused. “What makes you think I’d stand in the way of your dreams?”

“If we got involved, you’d start complaining about how busy I am, and I’d end up cutting back on my classes. That’s the way it is for women. We’re the nurturers of the world, always worried about those we love and putting ourselves last as a result.”

Clay was surprised by her words, and he wondered if she ever resented all those years caring for her sick mother. His gut told him she had not, but at the same time she had to have been aware that she might never realize her goals. “What if I didn’t ask you to give up your classes?” he asked. “What if I made it possible for you to give up the diner instead?”

She arched one brow. “What are you suggesting, Clay? That I become your mistress?”

“Now look whose being suspicious and distrustful,” he said. “I’m merely offering to help you.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I’ll admit my reasons are selfish,” he said. “If you can quit the diner you should have some free time on your hands. We could start seeing each other. I could take you to dinner now and then.”

“Do you realize how grossly you’ve contradicted yourself?” Frannie asked. “From the very minute we began planning this whole charade, you’ve been convinced I was after the Coleman fortune.”

“I mistakenly thought you and my father were romantically involved.”

“Oh, I get it,” Frannie said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “It’s okay if I let
you
pay my way in exchange for sex, but it’s
not
okay if I take money from your father.”

“Who said anything about sex?” he returned, lowering his voice as well.

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?” She did not give him a chance to respond. “Let’s get something straight, Clay. If I
do
decide to go out with you when this is all over, which I doubt, it’ll be because I want to, not because I need for you to pay my bills. I don’t
need
your money; I’m doing just fine. And if we
should
end up in bed together, which isn’t at
all
likely, it’ll be because we genuinely care about each other, not just because we’re feeling lustful.”

He frowned. “Lustful?”

She ignored him. “This conversation is over,” she said. “I’m going to meet my daughter.” She reached for her purse and pushed away from the table.

“Allow me,” Clay said, rising quickly and going around to the back of her chair. At her questioning glance, he went on. “Remember, I’m supposed to be the devoted husband. At least let me play my part with dignity.” Once she stood, he offered his arm.

Frannie hesitated, and then took it. “The only reason I’m grabbing it is because my knees are shaking and I’m afraid I might fall on my face if I don’t hold on to something.”

He gave a grunt. “You’re not fooling me. You’re doing it because you like it.” She started to pull free, but he covered her hand and made it impossible. “We really should stop arguing,” he said, “if we hope to make a good impression on Mandy.”

“You’re right,” she said and forced herself to smile at him, which he returned. Together, they walked out of the restaurant and into the busy terminal, looking for all the world like the perfect couple.

Frannie waited anxiously for the next few minutes as passengers came around the security area with painstaking slowness. She gripped Clay’s hand tightly, shoving aside the tiff they’d had only minutes before. Finally, a young girl stepped out of the crowd, carrying a shoulder bag.

“Clay, that’s her!” Frannie said, motioning toward the strawberry blonde who wore her long hair in a single braid down her back. “That’s Mandy!”

“She looks just like you!” he said.

Frannie wasn’t listening. She pushed through the crowd and made her way to the girl who looked like a lost chick. “Mandy!” The girl looked up when her name was called. She smiled, hesitantly, then made her way toward Frannie.

The next few minutes passed in a blur as Frannie embraced the girl tightly. She forgot her promise not to cry, tears streamed down her cheeks in small rivers. Finally, she took a step back and studied her daughter. “Oh, my, you’re beautiful,” she said, her voice catching with emotion. “I would have recognized you anywhere.”

Mandy laughed shyly. “You must be Frannie.”

Clay stepped forward and introduced himself. “Frannie’s husband,” he added. He draped one arm across Frannie’s shoulders protectively. “I can’t tell you how much my lovely wife has been looking forward to this moment.”