The Husband Sweepstake

“I meant something to treat it, not cause it.” She swayed a little.

Amos seized her arm and guided her toward the wing-backed chair.

“I’m fine, really,” Erika protested. “I just lost my balance, that’s all. I’m not going to faint.”

“In any case, sitting down won’t hurt you a bit. What’s the matter?”

“Oh, nothing much,” she said lightly. “A ghost from the past, paparazzi popping out from the potted plants at what’s supposed to be the most private club in the city, and a business deal gone sour.”

“Well, I’m glad it wasn’t anything important.” He pushed aside the sandwich.

She pointed to the tablet. “Is that your book?”

He frowned at the scratched-out sentences. “A small piece of it.”

“How’s it going?”

“Slowly. Too many interruptions.”

“I could have told you that. This may look like an easy job, but it’s not.”

“Only because Stephen has spoiled all of you.”

“And especially me,” Erika said steadily. “You might as well say it as think it. Though I don’t see why you said I needed a keeper.”

“What you need is a combination ladies’ maid, secretary and bodyguard. It would fall more along the lines of a wife, actually.”

“A wife?”

“Yes, I think that covers it.” He sounded quite pleased with himself.

“And that’s your definition of a wife? My goodness, you have a twisted view of the world…Though come to think of it…”

Something was nagging at her. Ladies’ maid, secretary and bodyguard…

She had the secretary, and she was perfectly capable of picking up her own clothes. But the bodyguard…

“You know, I think you’ve hit on something,” she said. “Not a wife, of course—that would really give the tabloids something to talk about. But a husband…now that’s another thing entirely. Amos—darling—what do you think?”

CHAPTER TWO

AMOS could think of only one reason why she could possibly want to know what he thought of her harebrained scheme. The explanation was ridiculous, it was insane, it was nigh impossible. But it was the only one he could come up with which even began to cover all the facts.

He stared across the desk at Erika, still trying to convince himself that she hadn’t really said what he thought he’d heard. She was perfectly calm, her violet eyes wide and showing the same sort of mild interest as if she’d just asked his opinion of the latest hit movie.

She didn’t look like an alien. But this madcap idea of hers belonged to an entirely different planet than the one he lived on.

A husband…that’s another thing entirely…

She’d actually asked for his opinion, he reminded himself. “Amos—darling—what do you think?” she had said. So he had not only the right but the obligation to answer.

Of course, if he told her what he thought, she’d probably try to have him arrested for using indecent language in the presence of a lady. And she’d be right—at least about the indecent language. As for the part about the lady, that was open to debate.

“What kind of a lady…” He stopped to clear his throat and started over. His voice felt rough. “A lady doesn’t propose marriage to a perfect stranger.”

Her lovely face went blank for an instant, and then as understanding dawned, her eyes brimmed with horror. “You thought I was suggesting I wanted to marry you?”

Now his head was really spinning. Amos—darling… But if that wasn’t what she’d meant, where had he gone wrong? “It sure sounded that way to me.”

“Then you’re hearing-impaired as well as arrogant. All I said was—”

“All right, all right. I get it.” He gave an exaggerated sigh. “And boy, is that a relief.” You bet it is.

“How could I be proposing to you? I don’t even know your last name.”

Amos didn’t enlighten her. It wasn’t like she was asking for a formal introduction, anyway. “So whom are you planning to marry? Take it from the top and tell me what all this is about. Unless, of course, you’re really just talking to yourself and so I’m not supposed to ask.”

He thought for a moment that she wasn’t going to answer. Then she raised the pointed little chin which was such a distinctive part of every Ladylove ad and said, “It’s a business matter.”

Either he was getting used to her, Amos thought, or he was growing numb, because he wasn’t even vaguely surprised.

She shrugged out of her trench coat, settled back in the chair and took a deep breath.

Amos had been noting the cut of her suit jacket, but he couldn’t help being distracted by what the deep breath did to her figure. The Ladylove ads always focused on her face, and the other day when she’d come through the lobby she’d been wearing a coat, ready to go out for the day. So he’d never had an opportunity to pay much attention to the rest of her. But in fact, the shape of her body was very nearly as perfect as the planes of her face. Too bad the quality of her insides didn’t match…

“There’s this firm I’m trying to buy, you see,” she began. “Up until a couple of years ago, Ladylove was totally focused on cosmetics, things like lipstick and eye shadow and foundation and mascara. Then we expanded into perfumes—”

“Courtesy of Denby Miles’s formulas,” Amos mused.

“I see you read the tabloids.” Her voice was chilly.

“Only while I’m standing in line at the market to buy cat food for Mrs. Haines’s Persian on the fourth floor. It was a very slow line this morning.”

“Be glad she didn’t send you fishing so Fluffy’s lunch would really be fresh.”

“I’ll keep that in mind next time she needs to lay in a supply of kibble.”

She crossed her legs.

Nice, long slim legs, Amos noted, with shapely knees that barely peeked out under the hem of a blue wool suit. She must have noticed him looking, because she cleared her throat firmly. She did not, however, make a coy show of pulling her skirt down. Amos liked that.

He sat up a little straighter. “You were talking about the tabloids.”

“Only because I can’t avoid the subject. I’m sure I don’t have to explain that the Denby Miles episode didn’t happen quite the way the Sentinel would like to believe it did.”

I’d give a pretty penny to hear what really did happen.

“At any rate, now Ladylove is ready to expand further, and there’s a firm which would be a perfect match.” She looked at him warily for a long moment, and then seemed to make up her mind to trust him. “I want to pick up Kate La Croix’s line of hair care products.”