Husband Needed

“That wasn’t yelling. THIS IS YELLING,” he shouted, working up a good head of steam. “If this is the way you treat your other clients, I’m surprised you’re not out of business. You couldn’t even buy a simple bottle of beer and some beer nuts without screwing up!”

Kayla didn’t care if this job might lead to good things for her company, nobody was going to talk to her that way! “If you don’t stop yelling at me, I’m going to break your other leg!”

“This isn’t going to work,” Jack declared. “I’m going to hire someone else.”

“You didn’t hire me, your Uncle Ralph did.”

Jack waved her words away as if they were of no importance. “I’ll get someone else.”

“Good luck. You’re so impossible no one would work for you! Your uncle warned me about you.”

“Yeah, well, he didn’t warn me about you. He should have known better. He knows I don’t like bossy women.”

“You want to hire someone else? Fine. I’ll even help you find them,” Kayla stated, her anger fiery hot at his accusation that she was bossy. Retrieving her ever-handy notebook from her oversize purse, she said, “I’ll write up the help-wanted ad for you. Let’s see... how about ‘impossible, irritable, arrogant man looking for blindly devoted slave to run errands for him at any time of the day or night. Salary—not enough. Benefits—none. No appreciation, no courtesy.’”

“Wrong. The ad should read ‘Good-looking, smart, good-natured guy with great sense of humor looking for temporary help. Emotional types need not apply.’”

“Emotional types?” she repeated in disbelief. “I’m not emotional! You’re just impossible! You’d try the patience of a saint.”

“You’re claiming to be a saint?”

“Of course not. If I were, I wouldn’t be irritated by your preposterous demands and outlandish expectations....”

“Irritated? Oh, I think you went past irritated some time ago,” Jack retorted. “Try furious and bossy.”

“Stop calling me bossy!”

“Or what?” he taunted her.

Too furious to say another word, she turned to leave.

Afterward Kayla couldn’t be sure if Jack reached out a hand to prevent her from leaving...or to open the door to boot her out.

Either way, he tottered on his crutches and ended up flattening her against the closed door—tumbling her into his arms.

Three

Kayla instinctively put her arms around Jack’s waist to steady him. His breath was warm and minty against her cheek as he braced his arms against the door, his hands on either side of her head. His lower torso was intimately pressed against hers so that she could feel every bone and sinew of his muscular frame.

She saw the hunger flare in his incredible smoky eyes even as she felt the throbbing of his arousal through his running shorts. Her coat was open, and her denim skirt wasn’t thick enough to provide any protection against the heated intensity of his powerful body.

Not that she wanted protection. She wanted him to kiss her. He did, slowly but fiercely consuming her as if he had all the time in the world to enjoy every millimeter of her mouth and couldn’t wait a second longer to do so.

This was no first kiss. There was no tentativeness, no awkwardness. Instead there was an uncontrollable passion, flaring with wild abandon. What her lips asked for, his tongue took. His mouth was slanted ravenously across hers as each velvety stroke of his tongue fueled the fire deep within her.

Kayla hung on for dear life. But she was no passive partner. She melted against him, wrapping her arms more tightly around his waist, wrapping her tongue around his in an erotic tousle that was as elemental as fire itself.

The blood was pounding through her body. In his arms she was a different person, forgetting everything but him. She shivered with excitement as she felt his fingertips gliding up her thigh, lifting the hem of her skirt. Fiery licks of pleasure danced over her skin wherever he touched her.

Things got so intense that her knees shook, her head swam and there was a buzzing in her ears. A loud buzzing....

It wasn’t until Jack lifted his lips from hers that reality returned. She snatched her hands away from him as if burned.

“What was that?” Kayla whispered, holding her trembling fingers to her lips.

“The door buzzer.”

“No. I meant...that...between us—” she waved her hand toward him. “Where did that come from?”

“Okay, I admit, you turned me on...”

She blushed. “I wasn’t talking about anatomy. I meant, we hardly know each other. You’re a client.” She raised her hands to her burning cheeks as she muttered, “I don’t do things like this.”

The intercom buzzer sounded again, more stridently this time.

“You better get that,” she said, leaning down to get Jack’s fallen crutches for him. As she did so, her forehead almost brushed against his thighs.

Muttering under his breath, he took the crutches and made his way the few feet to the intercom. “What?” Jack growled into the speaker.

“This is Ernie, your doorman. I just thought you might be interested in knowing that a traffic officer is stopped farther down the street and is issuing parking tickets.”

“Why the hell would I care?”

“Because your visitor double-parked her minivan in front of the building.”

“Did you double-park out front?” Jack asked Kayla.

“Yes! I was only going to stay a minute, drop off your beer and beer nuts. I’ve got to go!”

“Wait! You’ll come back, right?” Seeing her hesitation, Jack said, “You’re not really going to quit, are you? You didn’t seem like the type to give up easily.”

“I don’t aim on giving up...anything,” Kayla quietly informed him before closing the door in his face.

By the time Kayla went to pick up her daughter at the day care center that evening, she felt as if she’d been run over by a truck. She hadn’t been fast enough to avoid getting a parking ticket at Jack’s, and her day had continued to go downhill from there. The Shellburgers’ dry cleaning had gotten lost and it had taken her an hour at the cleaners to retrieve it. A simple exchange at the shoe store for Sally Galanter had also turned into a fiasco.

And then there was The Kiss—the one Kayla was determined to wipe from her mind. No amount of determination could completely erase the steamy memories, however.

Still, it helped when Kayla walked into the day care center and switched into “Mommy” mode.

But she’d no sooner stepped into the building when her beeper went off. Checking it, she recognized Diane’s number. Unfortunately Kayla’s cellular phone battery had just gone out on her not an hour before, forcing her to ask the day care owner, Corky O’Malley, if she could use her phone.

“Sure,” Corky cheerfully replied. Her short dark hair was generously peppered with white, creating a salt-and-pepper look that reminded Kayla of her own mother. There the similarity ended, however. Corky was much more loving and giving than Kayla’s mother had ever been. “Come on back and use the phone in my office. It’s quieter there.”

“Thanks.” Kayla quickly called Diane and reported in, assuring her that she had indeed found the missing dry cleaning.

“Rough day?” Corky asked sympathetically once Kayla had hung up.

“You could say that. There’s one client in particular who is the most demanding man I’ve ever met. You wouldn’t believe...”