The Hired Husband

Mitch pushed out of the chair. “Listen, Miss Branford, I’m not your preacher, your helpful brother, or your knight in shining armor. I do this for money. That’s all.”

“Fine. If that’s what you care about, then that’s what you’ll have. I’ll double your salary.”

“No.”

“Triple it.”

Mitch shook his head. “I don’t want to work for you.”

“Quadruple it.”

He glared at her.

Rachel got to her feet and drew herself up. “We’re talking about my family, Mr. Kincade. Name your price.”

“I don’t want the job.”

She flung out her arms. “You don’t want four times your usual fee? For less than two weeks work? Really, Mr. Kincade, what sort of businessman are you?”

“Do you even know what my salary is?” he demanded. “Do you have any idea?”

“Whatever it is,” Rachel told him, “it’s nothing compared to the survival of my family.”

He’d be a fool to turn it down. The sum was impressive. In his mind, Mitch reviewed the ledger he kept that tracked his money and thus his dream, and imagined the balance shooting upward. That much closer to the things he’d worked for his entire life.

And all he had to do was stay here.

“Well?” Rachel asked.

A few moments dragged by while Mitch wrestled with his conscience, old memories and the ache in his stomach it all caused. Finally, the money won out.

“All right. I’ll do it,” he said. “For four times my usual fee.”

“Good. Then it’s settled.” Rachel drew in a breath. “I’ve already prepared a very nice room for you overlooking the rear gardens. You’ll—”

“You expect me to stay here?”

“Well, yes, of course.”

“No.” Mitch paced a few feet away.

“You must stay with us,” Rachel told him. “And you must work here, too.”

“No,” Mitch said. “That’s out of the question.”

Rachel huffed. “Fine. Then I’ll pay you five times your salary.”

He swung back to face her. “You don’t even know if you can afford that.”

“Then you’d better see to it that I can,” she told him.

A long moment dragged past with the two of them glaring at each other. Finally, Mitch broke the silence.

“Just so we’re clear,” he said. “I don’t care about you or your family. I’m here to do a job. That’s all.”

She drew herself up and raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what sort of services you’ve provided for your previous employers, Mr. Kincade, but all I need you to do is the job for which you’ve been hired.”

“I expect to be left alone to do just that.”

“You can work in my father’s study. No one will disturb you.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

They glared at each other for another moment, then the reality of his decision and the situation it left him in struck Mitch like a kick in the knee. He’d finish this job. Get it done and leave.

And in only a few weeks, he’d have his old life back again.

Chapter Four

E verything would be all right now. Wouldn’t it?

The thought ran through Rachel’s mind once again as she sat on the settee, watching the late-afternoon shadows crawl toward her across the sitting-room floor. Yes, everything would be fine. Mr. Kincade had come highly recommended. At this very moment he was in Father’s study discussing the situation with Uncle Stuart. He’d fix their problem.

If he kept his word and stayed.

Another wave of anxiety rumbled through Rachel, setting her heart to beating faster. Mitch had said from the outset that he didn’t want the job. He’d refused it outright, initially. She’d had to bribe him with more money to get him to agree to stay.

But what if he changed his mind? What if he simply up and left?

Was that fear the reason she felt so anxious?

Rachel glanced down at the tablet in her hand and the blank page that taunted her, and realized Mitch’s potential abrupt departure was one of the many troubling things on her mind right now.

The pages of her tablet should be nearly filled by now. The guest list. The menu. Flowers. All those things still needed to be put into motion.

Usually, preparing for this sort of event delighted her.

Usually, she and her mother did it together.

With a heavy sigh, Rachel pushed the tablet away. She’d work on the luncheon preparations later.

Mitch came into her thoughts once more at the sound of his voice rumbling in the background. Not loud enough that she understood his words as he spoke with Uncle Stuart in the study down the hall, but a constant companion as she’d sat here.

The image of him filled her mind. Tall. Yes, he was certainly tall, strikingly tall. Broad shoulders. Big hands. They’d looked ridiculous earlier holding the teacup. Was he seated behind the desk in Father’s study? Had he taken off his jacket? Loosened his necktie? Opened his shirt collar…

Rachel gasped and hopped off the settee as if her own thoughts had given her a pinch. Good gracious, what had come over her, imagining Mr. Kincade—an accountant, of all things—without his shirt on?