Wife For A Week

‘Why my mother?’ muttered Nick. ‘Why couldn’t we have brought along your mother?’

‘She died when I was six,’ said Hallie, and then to Clea, ‘I like that.’ She held it up to her body, twirled around, and looked up to find Nick regarding her intently.

‘Sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘You said you’d been raised by your father and brothers but I didn’t make the connection. Try it on.’

And when she did…

‘She’ll take it,’ he told the saleswoman, and to Hallie, ‘That’s non-negotiable.’

‘Lucky for you I happen to agree,’ said Hallie.

‘His father had excellent taste in clothes as well,’ said Clea. ‘Bless his soul.’

But Hallie wasn’t listening. She was looking at herself in the mirror and her reflection was frowning right back at her as she turned and twirled, first one way and then the other. Finally, hands on hips, she turned to Nick.

‘Does this dress make me look fat?’

Two hours later, Hallie and Clea had purchased enough clothes for a six-month stint on the QEII, and as far as Nick was concerned he was neither the sadist Hallie had accused him of being, nor the skinflint his mother claimed. No, for a man to endure so much and complain so little, he was quite simply a saint.

‘So where to now? Are we done?’ said Hallie after they’d seen Clea to her Mercedes and watched her drive away. ‘Is there anything you need?’

‘A bar,’ he muttered with heartfelt sincerity.

‘Good call,’ said Hallie. ‘I’ll come too. I never realized boutique shopping was such thirsty work. Mind you, I’ve never bought more than a couple of items of clothes at any one time before either. Who knew?’

‘You’re not going to rehash every dress decision you just made, are you?’

‘Who, me?’ She was grinning from ear to ear. ‘Only if you insist.’

Nick shuddered, spotted a sports bar a few doors up and practically bolted for the door. He needed a drink, somewhere to sit. Somewhere with dark wood, dark carpet, dim lighting, good Scotch and no mirrors. He needed it bad.

‘Ah-h-h,’ said Hallie as she slid into the booth beside him. ‘Very nice.’

‘You don’t find it a little too…masculine?’

‘Nope. Feels pretty homely to me. I have four brothers, remember?’

‘Trust me, I hadn’t forgotten. Where do they live?’

‘Wherever their work takes them. Luke’s a Navy diver midway through a three-year stint in Guam; Pete’s flying charter planes in Greece; Jake runs a martial arts dojo in Singapore and Tristan lives here in London. He’s the one I’m staying with while I do my course.’

‘Tristan?’ After Pete, Luke and Jake, a brother named Tristan sounded somewhat incongruous. ‘What does Tristan do?’

‘He works for Interpol.’

‘Paper pusher?’

‘Black ops,’ she corrected. ‘But he’s a pussycat really.’

Sure he was. All black ops specialists were pussycats. It was such a caring, non-confrontational profession. ‘You know, maybe I need a different type of wife for Hong Kong,’ he said. ‘Maybe I need a brunette.’

‘I was a brunette once,’ said Hallie. ‘The hairdresser was a young guy, just starting out, and we decided to experiment. He left the salon not long after that.’ She sighed heavily. ‘I’m sure Tris wouldn’t really have castrated him.’

Maybe he was doomed. ‘Or a blonde,’ he muttered. ‘I could always replace you with a blonde.’

‘Ha. You can’t fool me. You’re not going to replace me now; you’d have to go clothes shopping again.’

Nick shuddered. She was right. Replacing her was out of the question.

‘Besides,’ she continued blithely, ‘it’s not as if I’m going to be telling any of my brothers the finer details of our little arrangement. They wouldn’t understand.’

On this they were in total accord.

‘So tell me about your family,’ she said, deftly changing the focus back to him and his. ‘When did your father die?’

‘Two years ago. He was a property developer.’

‘And Clea? You said she wasn’t a corporate wife. What does she do?’

‘Many people find it hard to believe, but she’s an architect. A very good one.’

‘Is that how they met? Through their work?’

‘No, they met at a birthday party. Clea was in the cake. I try not to think about it.’

‘What about brothers and sisters?’

‘There’s just me.’

‘Didn’t you ever get lonely?’ she asked.

‘Nope.’ She looked as if she was struggling with the only-child concept. ‘I had plenty of friends, plenty of company. And whenever I had any spare time there was always a computer handy and a dozen imaginary worlds to get lost in.’

‘And now you create fantasy worlds for a living. I guess that means you always knew what you wanted to do, even as a kid.’

‘I always did it. Is that the same thing?’

‘Probably. My brothers always knew what they wanted to do when they grew up too.’ Hallie’s smile was wry. ‘With me it was different…every week a new idea…astronaut, race-car driver, professional stunt-woman…My family’s still not convinced I won’t change my mind about wanting to work in the art business.’

‘And will you?’

‘Who knows?’ she said with a shrug. ‘I love the thrill that comes with finding something old and beautiful, and I love discovering its history and the history of the people behind it. Hopefully I’ll find work with a respectable dealer in Asian antiquities and it’ll be fascinating, but if it’s not…well…I’ll do something else. At least I’ll have given it a try.’

‘You want to make your own mistakes.’

‘That’s it!’ There was fire in her eyes, passion in her voice. ‘Do you have any idea how hard it is to make your own decisions with four older brothers all hell-bent on guiding you through life? I mean honestly, Nick, I’m twenty-four years old and I’m not a slow learner! So what if I make a mistake or two along the way? I’ll fix them. I certainly don’t need my brothers charging in to straighten me out every time I step sideways.’ Hallie’s chin came up; he was beginning to know that look. ‘I can take care of myself. I want to take care of myself. Is that too much to ask?’

‘Not at all. What you want is freedom.’

‘And equality,’ she said firmly. ‘And it wouldn’t kill them to show me a bit of respect every now and then too.’

Right. Nick quelled the slight twinge of sympathy he was beginning to feel for her brothers and concentrated on the bigger picture. Freedom, equality, respect! He could manage that. It wasn’t as if she was asking for the sun, the moon and the stars to go with it.

‘I want you to know that even though I’m paying you a great deal of money to deceive my future business partner you have my utmost respect,’ he stated firmly. ‘We’re in this together as equals.’

And to the drinks waiter who had appeared at his side, ‘Two single-malt Scotches. Neat.’

CHAPTER THREE

THREE days later Hallie boarded a plane to Hong Kong. She’d been manicured, pedicured, pampered and polished and was corporate-wife chic in her lightweight camel-coloured trousers and pink camisole. Her shoes matched her top, her handbag was Hermès, and Nick was at her side, thoroughly eye-catching in a grey business suit and crisp white business shirt minus the tie. She was the woman who had it all, and it was all pure fantasy.

That didn’t mean she couldn’t embrace the moment.

Wispy streaks of cloud scattered the midday sky, their seats were business class, the take-off was perfect, and Hallie relaxed into her seat, prepared to be thoroughly indulged, only to discover that any woman sitting next to Nick was more likely to be thoroughly ignored. That or she was currently invisible to the women of the world as they dimpled, sighed, primped and preened for him.

The flight attendants settled once the flight was underway and went about their business with efficient professionalism, but the encouraging smiles of the female passengers continued. One innovative young lady even managed to trip and fall gracefully into Nick’s lap amidst a flurry of breathless apology and a great deal of full body contact.

‘Do women always fall over their feet trying to get your attention?’ she asked once the woman had gone.

‘Actually, she fell over my feet,’ said Nick. ‘They were sticking out into the aisle. It was my fault she landed in my lap.’

‘And her breasts in your face? That was your fault too?’

Nick shrugged, trying to look a picture of innocence and failing miserably. ‘She was trying to get up,’ he said in her defence. ‘These things happen.’

‘So I see.’

He was used to it, Hallie decided. He was just plain used to women falling all over him. ‘You know, you’d save yourself a lot of unwanted attention if you wore a wedding ring,’ she said. She was wearing one, along with a diamond engagement ring the size of a small egg. As far as the world was concerned she was well and truly taken. Nick’s hands, however, were ring-free.

‘I wasn’t wearing one last time I visited,’ he countered. ‘It’d seem a bit strange if I turned up wearing one now.’

‘No, it wouldn’t, considering what happened.’ She was beginning to sense some reluctance here. ‘Say we really were married, would you wear a ring then?’

‘You’d have to insist.’ He slid her a sideways glance. ‘You would too, wouldn’t you?’

‘Absolutely.’ She held her left hand up between them, angling her fingers so that the diamond sparkled in the light. ‘Some people actually respect the sanctity of marriage and don’t hit on a person wearing a wedding ring.’

‘Funny,’ he said dryly. ‘You don’t look that naive.’

‘Hah. It just so happens I don’t think I’m being naive. But I do concede that if you never wear one we’ll never know.’

The clumsy young thing was back, all purring solicitousness as she asked Nick if she’d hurt him, if he was feeling all right, and was there anything, absolutely anything, she could do for him.

Honestly!

‘Oh, I think we’ve got it covered.’ Hallie smiled, sharp as a blade as her hand—the one with those shiny rings on it—came to rest high on Nick’s trouser clad thigh. Nothing subtle about that particular manoeuvre; she was claiming ownership and the other woman knew it. ‘On second thoughts, darling, you feel a bit cold,’ she said to Nick as she squeezed gently and slid her hand a fraction higher up his thigh. Muscles jumped beneath her palm even as the rest of him went absolutely still. ‘Would you like a blanket for your lap? There’s one in the webbing in front of you.’

With an annoyed pout and a narrow-eyed glare for Hallie, the other woman made herself scarce. Not that Nick noticed. His wife had his attention now. His complete and utter attention.

‘What are you doing?’ he rasped.

‘Practising.’

‘For what? The mile-high club?’

Hallie’s smile widened. Really, his imagination was so delightfully easy to manipulate. ‘I’m practising my possessive moves for when I meet Jasmine.’

‘Well, would you mind practising with your hand somewhere else? I’m not made of stone.’

This was debatable. Right this minute, Nicholas Cooper’s thigh was hard as a rock. ‘Sorry, my mistake. I thought we agreed on physical contact in public places,’ she said as she withdrew her hand, reached for the blanket and draped it across his knees. She shouldn’t bait him; she knew it. But she couldn’t resist. ‘This is a public place,’ she said sweetly. ‘And we did have an audience.’

‘You know, you’re right. You’re absolutely right,’ he said. He flicked off the overhead light, brought her hand back to his thigh and drew the blanket over his lap with a smile that was pure challenge. ‘Feel free to continue.’

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