Husband By The Hour

Instead of taking the broad hint, he once again put his hand on top of hers and squeezed gently. The comfort meant a lot to her, even though she didn’t want to tell him. It would be too much like giving in. She was convinced that if she gave in—even a little—she would suffer for the rest of her life. So she held back. Resisted. Didn’t say anything. She didn’t trust Nick. She wasn’t even sure she liked him.

But when he nudged her, she turned her hand over and let him lace his fingers through hers.

Chapter Three (#ulink_fc5531ac-75d4-5068-b660-1a940f306597)

Nick checked the rearview mirror. There was no one behind them but truckers and no one was going the speed limit. He touched a button on the cruise control panel, then glanced at Hannah. She was leaning against the passenger door, her head resting on the window. She’d been asleep for most of the morning.

He slipped a tape of classical music into the cassette player and kept the sound low. She didn’t stir. He was glad. She obviously needed her rest The shadows under her eyes weren’t all from her hangover. No doubt the stress and worry about meeting her birth mother for the first time had kept her up nights.

Her color was better now, her breathing steady. Of course, her color wasn’t quite as high as it had been when he’d kissed her.

He grinned at the memory. Kissing Hannah Pace was something he should have done a long time ago. Not only for the pleasure it had given him, but because it had left her speechless.

Oh, he’d thought about it. He couldn’t be around Hannah for more than five minutes without thinking about kissing her and touching her. She was the kind of woman who lent herself to wicked thoughts—at least in his mind.

He’d wondered if she would resist the kiss and the heat it generated. Passion could be disconcerting if one was used to constantly being in control. He suspected Hannah prided herself on being in control. But she hadn’t resisted or pretended not to respond. Even if he hadn’t felt the clinging sweetness of her mouth, her fire-filled eyes and uneven breathing had given her away. Yup, kissing Hannah had been a great idea. He’d imagined it would be terrific, and the real thing had been better than any fantasy. He couldn’t wait to do it a second time.

He checked on her again, but she was silent and still asleep. Was she dreaming? Was she worrying about what was going to happen? Did she regret her confession?

Hannah had been married. He thought he’d figured her out, but that piece of information had stunned him. Married. He swore under his breath. Why hadn’t he known?

“Why does it matter?” he asked himself softly, then decided he didn’t want to know the answer.

Married. To whom? Not a cop. She wouldn’t have been able to keep that quiet. He would have heard about it—some kind of hint would have surfaced in the past year. He knew all about gossip at a police station. Everyone knew everyone else’s business.

Who would Hannah have married and then divorced? A successful businessman with shady dealings? He grimaced. Hannah wasn’t the type to get involved with a criminal. That’s one of the things he liked best about her—her principles. Of course, those high standards meant she wasn’t likely to give him the time of day.

He thought about the assignment he’d been working on. All the hours being alone, the danger, the tension. It was about to end. Just a few more days, maybe a couple of weeks.

He wondered what Hannah would say if he told her the truth. Would she like him more? Respect him? It didn’t matter. Until the assignment was over, until the bad guys were in jail, he wasn’t telling anyone anything. He wasn’t going to risk all that time and effort. He wanted those guys caught.

So Hannah would continue to think he was a criminal and he would let her. Probably best for both of them.

An airline pilot with a girlfriend at every stop? Nick shook his head. He didn’t like that scenario, either. He didn’t want her ex-husband to have abused her, or cheated on her, or done anything illegal. But if the ex was so perfect, why had they divorced?

His stomach rumbled, reminding him it had been a long time since breakfast. He glanced at the billboards on either side of the multilane freeway, then took the next exit to a fast-food restaurant. He pulled in behind a battered pickup truck with two live caged chickens and a goat tied in the back. He glanced at Hannah. She stirred and blinked sleepily.

She had the best-behaved hair of anyone he knew. At the station she wore it in a bun at the back of her head. No matter what time he went by, whether it was the first five minutes of her shift or the last, every hair was in place. He’d never seen a strand sneak out to drift against her cheek or her neck.

Today she wore a thick braid down her back. Despite fighting a hangover and sleeping for the better part of four hours, she was perfectly groomed. He couldn’t help wondering what she would look like all mussed up. Preferably naked, with her hair loose and her eyes heavy with passion.

The stirring in his groin made him shift uncomfortably. Think about something else, he ordered himself.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

She glanced around. “No, but I should probably eat. Just a hamburger and soda, please.”

“Sure.” He pulled up to the microphone and placed their order.

“I’ve been asleep,” she said. “You should have woken me.”

“Why?”

“So I could spell you on the driving.”

“I like to drive.”

She leaned back in her seat. “Not surprising. It’s a control thing. Men like to drive because it makes them feel in control.”

“You learn that in Psych 101?”

“Are you denying it’s true?”

“Nope. Just wondering where you got so smart.”

One corner of her pretty mouth turned up slightly. “I figured it out all by myself.”

“You can drive this afternoon.” He wouldn’t mind driving the whole way north, but as they got closer to Glenwood, she would get nervous. Driving would help distract her.

They collected their food and headed back on the road. Hannah handed him his burger and drink as he asked for it He’d eaten in the car before, without help, but he liked her being attentive to him. Male vanity, he thought, grinning. She would probably slug him if she ever discovered what he was thinking.

They passed a sign showing the distances to San Jose, Sacramento and the state line. He reached for his burger. She snatched it back.

“How fast have you been driving?” she demanded. “Were you speeding?”

“A little.”

“More than a little. How fast were you going?”

“I’m not going to tell you.” His voice was teasing. “Besides, this car was built for the open road. How could I resist?”

“You didn’t even try.”

“I try all the time with you, honey, and it doesn’t do me a damn bit of good.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t speak. When he reached for his hamburger, she handed it to him, then faced front as if determined to ignore his presence.

He liked teasing her. He figured if he kept at it long enough, she would eventually lighten up. She had to. No one could be so uptight all the time. She might even find out he wasn’t such a bad guy.

Perversely, he wanted her to like him for himself. He laughed silently. What a load of bull. If Hannah, or any woman, actually started to care about him, he would run so fast in the opposite direction, he would get road burn on his feet. Even if the thought of settling down tempted him on occasion, he preferred to travel light. If he was honest with himself, part of Hannah’s appeal was that she was unreachable. She would never see him as anything but low-life scum.

He finished his burger and took another drink of soda. “Tell me more about your life,” he said.

She collected their trash, transferring it all to one bag, then wiped her hands on a napkin. “It’s really none of your business.”

“You have to give me some personal information. I am going to be pretending to be your husband.”

“You already know enough.”