Husband on Demand Read online

  He paused in mid-motion, eyes narrowing. "You sound like you were expecting one."

  "Of course I wasn't. If you suppose you'll find anything illicit going on here, you've got the wrong house. The SWAT team is just the only faintly reasonable excuse I can think of to explain why you'd kick in the door."

  "The key wasn't where it's supposed to be."

  Cassie felt her jaw drop. Was the man on the lam from the loony bin? "That's why you broke in? You couldn't borrow an extra from the super? Though I suppose if you're not authorized to be here - "

  "I'm authorized. I'm Roger's brother. I came to the door, I checked for the key, I heard noises inside what was supposed to be a very empty house - "

  "Now I get it. You assumed I was the burglar, so you came plunging in to defend your brother's possessions."

  "You don't think I'd kick in a stranger's door, do you?"

  "Oh, I'm sure Roger and Peggy will find the fact very consoling, as they survey the damage, that at least you didn't damage a stranger's - "

  He sighed. "Look, I'm tired and I'd really like to stop playing games, so let's cut to the bottom line. You're right about one thing - Peggy didn't tell me she'd hired a house-sitter. Of course that might be because I didn't talk to her, but Roger didn't mention you either. I suppose you have some credentials to prove you're actually who you say you are?"

  "Upstairs in my handbag. And I'm sure you won't mind showing me your driver's license."

  He scowled a little.

  "Fair's fair," Cassie pointed out. "Anybody could pretend to be Roger Abbott's brother."

  "I can't imagine why anyone would want to." He tugged a slim leather wallet from his hip pocket.

  "Great family feeling you have, don't you?" Cassie jibed. "Now I remember hearing about you - Peggy told me you didn't even come to their wedding last year."

  "She makes a great story out of it."

  "Well, he is your brother - "

  "And it was his third wedding. With all the practice I've had at being an usher at Roger's weddings, I could have phoned in my performance. Besides, I was just starting a new job in Florida at the time, but Peggy never seems to remember that bit. Are you interested in my ID, or not?"

  Cassie reached for the laminated card he'd extracted from his wallet and studied it with deliberation. His name was Jake Abbott, she noted. Hadn't she wrapped a gift for a Jake, in that day-long spree last Christmas? She was sure of it - and just as certain that it had been something completely outrageous. Tickets for a real-life dogfight in a military jet, perhaps?

  According to his driver's license, he lived in Manhattan, somewhere on the lower end of the island if she recalled the street system correctly.

  Obviously the job in Florida hadn't lasted long, she thought. She wondered if he was only making a visit to Denver or if the Manhattan address was obsolete as well.

  But of course the other information was still current. He was six feet exactly and weighed one-eighty, and his eyes were brown. And the picture on the license - though hardly magazine-cover quality - was distinctly of the same man who was watching her with thinly disguised impatience.

  She handed the license back. "Okay, I'm convinced you're who you say you are, Mr. Abbott."

  "Good. Now it's my turn. Who are you?"

  "Cassie Kerrigan," she said, "I'm a partner in Rent-a-Wife, and Peggy hired me to - "

  "Rent a what?" He paused, wallet half into his pocket. "And you say Peggy hired you?"

  Cassie wanted to groan. "All right, don't let your imagination roam. Rent-a-Wife is not an escort service - "

  "I was thinking more in terms of a bordello that delivers. Sort of like phoning out for pizza."

  "That," Cassie snapped, "was obvious. Rent-a-Wife is in the business of providing personal service, something like a concierge does in a big hotel. We take care of the sort of time-consuming details that clutter up a working person's schedule, making life smoother and easier. But we don't dust, we don't wash windows, we don't watch babies, and we certainly don't indulge in kinky - " she paused. "Why am I explaining this to you?"

  "Perhaps it's because you feel defensive about your profession," he said smoothly.

  "Only about the name," she admitted. "If we'd given it a little more thought, we'd have called it Helping Hands or something instead. If you'll wait here, I'll go get the proof you asked for."

  Jake shook his head. "Don't bother."

  "Why not? You aren't suddenly going to tell me that my honest face has convinced you I'm telling the truth?"

  "No, though the no-kinky-sex line came close. If you were in that business, you'd call it Rent-a-Lover."

  "Thanks for the input. I'll be sure to pass your comments along at our next board meeting."

  "My pleasure." He rubbed his shoulder again. "Roger must have forgotten about you when he told me I could borrow the house for a while, because he didn't say a word about me having company."

  "Well, nobody warned me either. Maybe Peggy didn't tell him I'd be here. Communication seems to be their weak point, doesn't it? Peggy hires me, Roger loans the house to you - "

  "You think maybe he didn't tell her I needed a place to stay for a few weeks?"

  Well, Cassie mused, I didn't really think that he was just dropping by - all the way from Manhattan - to pick up his brother's mail. "I think maybe he had a good reason for not telling her you were coming to town," she said crisply. "Is this another new job? Or are you simply between periods of employment at the moment?''

  "Oh, it's a new job. And now that you mention it, I can picture Roger forgetting to bring it up with Peggy."

  Cassie said, with the barest tinge of sarcasm, "He was probably too busy getting ready for the camping trip to think about details like an unexpected house guest."

  Jake shrugged. "I can't see that it much matters how the misunderstanding happened. The point is, there's no need for you to stay. Since I'm going to be here for a while, a house-sitter would only be in my way."

  "On the other hand," Cassie murmured, "maybe Roger did tell Peggy you were coming, and she thought it would be a good idea to have someone on hand to counter your violent tendencies." She shot a glance at the door, still half-open and hanging by one hinge. "Too bad she didn't warn me that you haven't learned how to ring a doorbell, but - "

  "What's the matter, Ms. Kerrigan? Upset at losing your cushy job before you'd even got a good start on it?"

  "You didn't hire me," Cassie pointed out. "And you can't fire me."

  "If you insist on staying, you can't prevent me from speculating about why you're so anxious to stick around." His voice had gone suddenly silky.

  "Like I'm seizing an excuse to get to know you better?" Cassie shuddered artistically. "I ought to take you at your word. I'm sure you'll positively enjoy dealing with the workmen."

  She brushed past him and started toward the stairway.

  "What workmen?" The suggestive note was gone from Jake's voice.

  She didn't look back. "The ones who are going to start tearing out walls tomorrow." "Walls?"

  "You don't think Peggy was so nervous about leaving home that she wanted someone to guard her lipstick and her collection of ruffly pillows, do you? If it wasn't for the workmen, she wouldn't need a house-sitter. But I suppose since you're here now, I could just tell her that you insisted on taking over - "

  "I don't have time for stuff like that."

  "Of course not," Cassie soothed. "Your new job - whatever it is - must be far too important to leave you time to supervise workmen. So why don't you go check into a hotel and let me carry on here?"

  "Because I don't like hotels."

  Cassie pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I suppose what you really mean is that you don't want to give up the free rent. Not that I blame you - until you know if this job is going to last, obviously you don't want to run up any extra bills."

  "Who put the bee in your bonnet?" He sounded amused. "I'm not expecting to get fired, if that makes you feel better."

  Cassie bit her tongue. Just because the man had accidently trod on a couple of her hot buttons didn't make his job or his way of life any of her business. "What a relief that must be for you," she said gently, "considering that of course you're going to have to pay to fix the door. Luckily the contractor is going to be here anyway, so you can - "

  "Don't try to dodge your share of the blame."

  "My share? I had nothing to do with your faulty decision-making! I was just sitting here minding my own business, enjoying my music - "

  "Which sounded like a roomful of tortured cats. If it hadn't been for that raucous noise, I would have gone across to the super's office and gotten a key."

  "So instead you burst in to rescue the suffering felines? Thank you," Cassie said politely. "I'm so glad you liked my performance. Now if you'll knock off the distractions and get back to the subject.... Come to think of it, I'm glad you're not going to a hotel. You're not going to dump this mess on me - a front door that won't even close, much less lock, and... "

  "And which is practically an invitation to ravishers," Jake added. "So why don't you go home? At least, I assume you have a home, unless Peggy found you living in a cardboard box under a bridge somewhere."

  "Because of the workmen. I told you."

  "Surely you could check on them now and then without actually living here."

  "Peggy wanted me to be here every morning to let them in - as sort of a check system to be sure the job's progressing on schedule. To get all the way across town to do that, I'd have to leave my cardboard box under the bridge at a mighty uncomfortable hour. That's why Peggy suggested I stay here instead." She waved a careless hand toward the entrance. "Not that letting the workers in tomorrow will take any extra effort, with the shape the front door's in."

  "You're not going to give up, are you?"

  "I was hired to do a job. You were offered a favor. There's no comparison between our reasons for being here, so if one of us leaves, it isn't going to be me. If you insist on hanging around, I'll just consider you an additional obstacle."

  "Fine." Jake yawned. "Suit yourself. As for me, I'm tired, it's late, I've had a long flight and I have work to do before my first meeting tomorrow. So I'm going to bed."

  "What about the door?"

  "I'll prop a chair under it."

  "Oh, that makes me feel very safe."

  "And you suggested I go off to a hotel and leave you here alone and unprotected," Jake chided. "How could I possibly be so crass?"

  Cassie sighed. She'd never heard such an unconvincing tone of voice in her life.

  "But I draw the line at dragging a couch in from the living room and spending the night blocking the door with my body, in order to protect you from the bogeymen."

  "I wouldn't dream of letting you give up your beauty sleep for my sake, when you're obviously set on impressing your new boss tomorrow."

  "And you're obviously capable of taking care of yourself."

  "Don't you doubt it for a minute," Cassie recommended.

  Jake grinned lazily, and Cassie felt the impact all the way to her toes. "If you think that I'm likely to forget myself and wander into your bedroom," he murmured, "don't stay awake hoping." He patted back another yawn. "I suppose - considering the cardboard box under the bridge and all - that you've already claimed the master suite, but I'll tell you what. I'll flip you for it."

  Cassie let her gaze drop modestly, so he wouldn't see the amusement she couldn't quite smother. Why ruin the surprise by telling him now that as of tomorrow morning the master bath was going to be history? "Actually, I'm in the guest bedroom. A certain delicacy made me think better of moving into my employer's own private quarters, so - "

  Jake rolled his eyes. "Delicacy? Well, a little thing like that isn't going to keep me from getting a good night's sleep."

  Cassie said sweetly, "I never imagined that it would."

  CHAPTER TWO

  ALL things considered, Cassie slept surprisingly well. The guest room was comfortable, and there wasn't a strange sound, either from the master suite or the foyer downstairs, to disturb her rest.

  But the first gleam of sunlight through the guest room window brought her fully awake. She was almost looking forward to her next skirmish with Jake Abbott, especially because she'd be going into this one backed up by a bunch of burly workmen armed with wrecking bars.

  Peggy's contractor was as good as his word. When the doorbell rang promptly at seven, Cassie looked approvingly at her watch and cautiously dragged the straight chair out from under the knob where Jake had propped it last night, hoping the door wouldn't crumble as she opened it.

  The young man standing on the step smoothly moved his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other without using his hands. ''Morning, Miz Abbott," he said in a voice as slow-moving as cold taffy. "I'm Buddy Nelson, here to start work on your hot tub."

  He was younger than Cassie had expected, certainly not over thirty, and he wasn't exactly the burly bruiser she'd been picturing - lanky would have been a better description. He was wearing stained, crumpled jeans that would have been rejected by any self-respecting rag bag, and his faded flannel shirt sported a triangular tear right in front, displaying a good portion of hairy chest. He hadn't shaved in the better part of a week, Cassie guessed, and a rubber band held his hair back in a tight, greasy ponytail.

  And he was alone. Where was the crew she'd expected?

  "I'm not Mrs. Abbott," Cassie said. "I'm - "

  Buddy was staring past her at the door. "Had a little trouble here, I see," he said with a nasal twang.

  "You might say so. As long as you're going to be working here anyway, Mr. Abbott will want to talk to you about the best way to fix it."

  He looked at her a little oddly. "Fix it, ma'am?"

  Cassie had no trouble seeing what he meant. In daylight, she noted, the damage looked worse than when it had been fresh last night. The door wasn't even wood, she realized; instead, it was made of some kind of fibrous white stuff with a wood-grained film laid over the top and painted teal-blue, and instead of splintering like wood it had torn into twisted, irregular fragments. She suspected there was no way it could ever be glued back together.

  "I mean fix the problem, not necessarily this particular door." Why was she even discussing the matter, anyway? The door wasn't her responsibility. She stepped back into the foyer. "If you'll come in, Mr. Nelson, I'll ask Mr. Abbott to come down right now, so you can talk about the door before your crew gets here."

  "No crew," he drawled. "There's just me."

  Cassie opened her mouth to ask how he planned to manhandle a whirlpool tub big enough for two bathers entirely by himself, and then she shut it again. Surely Peggy wouldn't have hired the man if she'd had any doubts of his abilities. Would she?

  On the other hand, Cassie thought, if Peggy had ever seen him in person, he wouldn't have mistaken Cassie for the Mrs. Abbott who had hired him.

  The contractor's slow, twangy voice went steadily on.

  "I like to take my time and get things just right. And by the way, call me Buddy. Mr. Nelson always makes me think of my dad. I wouldn't hardly know how to answer to that."

  Cassie thought, And that would make two of us who were struck speechless.

  She was halfway up the stairs by the time Buddy had stepped across the threshold, and when she glanced back, he was carefully rocking the door on its one remaining hinge. Was he simply fascinated by the damage, she wondered, or did he always move that slowly? Either way, it didn't bode well for the chances of Peggy's project being finished on time.

  Cassie was beginning to get a squeamish feeling in the pit of her stomach. This could be a very long couple of weeks, she told herself.

  Cassie hadn't heard a sound from the master bedroom since she'd wakened, and she'd been particularly cautious herself about making noise as she showered and dressed. The man had said he was tired, so she was letting him sleep in, she'd told herself sanctimoniously. It wasn't her fault if Jake Abbott got a rude awakening now.

  She rapped loudly, and was disappointed when without even a second's hesitation Jake said, "Come in."

  Cassie pushed the door open a few inches. "You see? That's how it's done - you tap your knuckles against the wood, and the other person responds with an invitation to enter."

  She was even more disappointed to see that he was already dressed for the business day. The jacket which matched his charcoal trousers was still draped across the bed, but his white shirt was immaculate, and his dark-red tie was already in place. Cassie had no trouble putting a value on his tailoring; she'd ferried enough silk ties, monogrammed shirts, and custom-made suits to and from dry cleaners in the last year to know precisely what she was looking at. He was obviously intending to make an impression on his new boss. "You're a morning person, I see."

  "Not really, but my body thinks it's still in another time zone. I've been up for two hours." He was sitting at a fragile decorative table near the window with a palm-top computer open in front of him, and he barely looked up. "To what do I owe this interruption?"

  "Well, it's not because I have an overwhelming desire to see whether you wear pajamas," Cassie said tartly. "The contractor's here."

  "I'll talk to him later."

  "Not much later, I'm afraid," she said, trying hard to keep the note of glee out of her voice, "because the first place he's going to start work is in there." She pointed at the door to the master bath.

  Jake turned to face her. "Tearing out walls, you said."

  Cassie smothered a grin at the hollow note in his voice. "I'm afraid I may have forgotten to give you the details last night."

  "You know perfectly well you didn't tell me. No wonder you were so gracious about letting me have this room."

  "It must have been the sheer joy of exchanging views with you that made the need to warn you slip my mind. But you might take a minute to cover up anything you don't want to get extremely dusty."

  The way he started muttering under his breath cautioned Cassie not to wait for a clearer answer, but she'd barely gotten to the door before he called, "I really don't need to talk to the contractor. Just tell him to replace the door and send me a bill."