Hannah Pace needed a pretend husband—fast! She lied to her long—lost mother about being married, and now she had to produce the groom. So she hired hometown bad boy Nick Archer. Though he wasn’t every mother’s dream, he sure was Hannah’s hottest fantasy….

Trouble was, Nick relished the part a bit too much. Dizzying kisses, heated glances, tender touches. Minute by minute, Nick’s paid performance was feeling all too real. And soon Hannah wanted him to be a husband for life….

Husband by the Hour
Susan Mallery

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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“W-What are you doing?” Hannah gasped.

As she’d reached for her mascara, Nick had pulled off his T-shirt. Now she stared, openmouthed, at his bare-chested reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Nick’s expression was carefully blank. “We don’t have much time before we meet your mother. I was going to shower so we wouldn’t be late. Unless, of course, I’m bothering you.”

Hannah forced herself to concentrate on darkening her eyelashes. If her hired husband didn’t mind getting naked in front of her, she refused to mind watching. “Be my guest.”

She calmly reminded herself that she knew what the male form looked like.

Which didn’t stop her from nearly poking herself in the eye when Nick dropped his briefs.

Heat rippled through her belly, making her thighs quake.

Dressed, Nick Archer was handsome enough to take her bream away.

Naked…he was borderline illegal!

Dedication

To my readers—with heartfelt thanks for the wonderful support

Author Note

Dear Reader,

May is a time of roses, romance…and Silhouette Special Edition! Spring is in full bloom, and love is in the air for all to enjoy. And our lineup for this month reflects the wonder of spring. Our THAT SPECIAL WOMAN! title, Husband by the Hour, is a delightful spin-off of Susan Mallery’s HOMETOWN HEARTBREAKERS series. It’s the story of a lady cop finding her family…as well as discovering true love! And Joan Elliott Pickart continues her FAMILY MEN series this month with the frolicking Texas Dawn—the tale of a spirited career girl and a traditional Texas cowboy.

Not to be missed is Tracy Sinclair’s warm and tender Please Take Care of Willie. This book is the conclusion to Tracy’s CUPID’s LITTLE HELPERS series about matchmaking kids. And speaking of kids…The Lady and the Sheriff is Sharon De Vita’s latest heartwarming installment of her SILVER CREEK COUNTY miniseries. This story features Louie, the kid who won readers’ hearts!

May is also the month that celebrates Mother’s Day. Cheryl Reavis has written a story that is sure to delight readers. Her FAMILY BLESSINGS series continues with Mother To Be. This story is about what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object…and deep, abiding love results.

Finally, we round off the month by welcoming historical author Barbara Benedict to Silhouette Special Edition. She makes her contemporary debut with the lighthearted Rings, Roses…and Romance.

I hope you have a wonderful month of May!

Sincerely,

Tara Gavin,

Senior Editor

Please address questions and book requests to:

Silhouette Reader Service

U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269

Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Fort Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3

PRAISE FOR SUSAN MALLERY:

“Susan Mallery dazzles. Her stories are unforgettable. Her fans are legion. If you haven’t read her yet, you must!”

—bestselling author Suzanne Forster

* * * * * *

“Ms. Mallery treats the reader to wonderful characters with a gift for snappy dialogue, splashes of humor and the ability to love and learn.”

—Romantic Times

* * * * * *

“Ms. Mallery’s characters are superbly portrayed—there is no way you can remain uninvolved….”

—Rendezvous

* * * * * *

“…Susan Mallery is a star on the rise.”

—author Kathleen Kane

* * * * * *

HOMETOWN HEARTBREAKERS: These heartstoppin’ hunks are rugged, ready and able to steal your heart….

Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Copy

Title Page

Dedication

Author Note

PRAISE FOR SUSAN MALLERY

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Epilogue

Extract

About the Author

Copyright

Chapter One

“You need to get out of town,” Captain Rodriguez said.

Nick Archer leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temple. “You think I don’t know that? Easier said than done.”

He was lying. Leaving wasn’t so hard. He’d done it a million times. He just left. What held him back this time was the fact that he couldn’t think of a single place to go. Hell of a situation for a man to find himself in.

Rodriguez turned toward his computer terminal and touched a few buttons. “They’re getting closer, Nick. If they blow your cover, you’re dead in less than four hours. Southport Beach is too small to keep you safe. Leave the city. Leave Southern California.”

“Yeah, I will.” Just as soon as he figured out where he was going. May was a nice month just about anywhere. Maybe Vegas. He could get real lost there and not surface for days. “I’ll let you know when I get there,” he continued. “And I’ll make sure I’m close to a phone.”

“Good idea,” the captain said. Concern drew his mouth straight. “You’ve risked it all for this assignment, Nick. Just give it a few more days. A couple of weeks at most. By then the Feds will have what they need and we can issue the arrest warrants. By the end of the month, you’ll be back at the Santa Barbara Police Department.”

“Great.”

Nick had been undercover for over a year. It was difficult to imagine returning to Santa Barbara and picking up the threads of his life. After a year, how much of a life would he have to pick up?

He stood and walked to the door. When he pulled it open, the captain frowned and said in a voice loud enough to carry, “If you want Pentleman out of jail, you’re going to have to spring for bail. This time, we’re not cutting a deal.”

Pentleman was a small-time crook picked up for robbery earlier this morning. He was one of Nick’s “employees” and had given him an excuse to come to the station and talk to Rodriguez. Only his captain back in Santa Barbara, Rodriguez here in Southport Beach and the FBI agent coordinating the sting knew Nick’s real identity. The rest of the world considered him a successful criminal.

Nick gave the captain a mock salute and headed for the front desk. He would make Pentleman’s bail, then leave town. The issue of where to go nagged at him until he saw Hannah Pace coming off her shift. She spoke to the young officer taking her place at the communications console. As she turned to step into the corridor, she spotted Nick. Her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

Nick jogged the last couple of steps to catch up with her. She was tall, nearly five-ten, with long legs and an awkward grace that made him think about foals loping through pastures. At six foot four, he could easily match her stride, which he did. She ignored him. It was a ritual between them. One he enjoyed more than he wanted to admit.

“Hey, beautiful, you off work?”

“Obviously.” The single word was clipped.

She didn’t look at him, not even when he put his arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. She simply grabbed his wrist and let it fall behind her. Nick took advantage of the position to pat her curvy rear. That earned him a quick glare.

“I’m armed,” she said, heading for the side door and the officers’ parking lot. “And I’m not afraid to use it on low-life scum like you.”

“Hannah, you’ve got me all wrong. I respect you.”

“Yeah, right. What does that mean? You don’t expect to pay for sex with me?”

He winced audibly and pressed a hand to his chest. “I’m deeply wounded.”

She pulled open the door and stepped outside. Warm air, smelling of sea and sunshine, enveloped them. The sky was clear and California blue. If he’d bothered glancing out at the ocean, he would have been able to see all the way to Catalina. But he doubted any view was lovelier than the woman in front of him.

Hannah paused, inhaled deeply and stared up at him. Her eyes were big and brown, the color of milk chocolate. He’d always had a thing for chocolate. Apparently, he also had a thing for women in uniform, although he hadn’t realized that until he’d seen Hannah in hers. There was something about a sensibly cut garment hugging the female form that got his blood hot and his body bothered. Only it wasn’t just any female form; it was very specifically Hannah’s.

“What do you want, Nick?”

The defensiveness was gone. She sounded tired. He looked closer and saw shadows under her eyes. Thick, shiny, dark hair had been pulled back into a prim bun. Not even one tendril escaped to taunt him. Yet the thought of releasing her heavy hair, of running his fingers through the loose strands, made his fingers itch.

“Let me buy you a drink,” he said and gave her his best grin. It usually worked. He’d used it on countless women before and had been successful enough to make his friends grumble. The only person who seemed immune was Hannah. For a year she’d ignored his teasing, his compliments, his lines and his invitations. He suspected she viewed him as a life-form only slightly higher than a cockroach.

She stared at him a long time. “You don’t give up, do you?”

His grin turned wicked. “On you? Never.”

“Why? What is so appealing about me?”

Her question caught him off guard. Normally she just rolled her eyes and kept on walking.

“I like how you keep your desk organized. All those piles are always tidy.”

She shook her head. “Just as I thought. You’re nothing more than a schoolboy defying authority.”

Before she could leave, he placed his hand on her forearm. Her uniform had short sleeves, and he could feel the warmth of her skin and the slight tremor that rippled through her.

“It’s more than that, Hannah.” He leaned close and, with his free hand, touched his index finger to the corner of her mouth. “I like how your lips always turn up a little, even when you’re mad. Like now.”

She stepped back and pulled her arm free of his touch. “I’m not mad, I’m impatient.”

“Impatient?” He raised an eyebrow. “I like that. Impatient. Could a little of that impatience be because you’re tempted?”

“Oh, grow up,” she said and headed toward the parking lot.

“I’ve been a man a long time, Hannah Pace. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, because I’ve caught you looking.”

That made her stumble. She spun toward him. “I’ve never looked.”

He moved closer and lowered his voice. “Sure you have. Lots of times. You think I’m a good-looking charmer.”

“I think you’re a thief and a swindler and Lord knows what else.”

He stared down at her flashing dark eyes. “I knew you’d been thinking about me.”

“Damn,” she muttered, then drew in a long breath. “How do you always win?”

“Because you think I’m teasing, but I’m telling the truth.”

Amazingly enough, he was. He meant every word he said to her. He did think she was beautiful and funny and smart and all the other lines he’d spoken over the past year. Hannah would never believe him, which made them safe to say. Sometimes, though, he wondered what the cool, self-contained lady would think if she knew his attraction was surprisingly genuine.

She blinked at him uncomprehendingly. He took advantage of her confusion and placed his arm around her shoulders again. “The thing is,” he told her, “you’ve never given me a chance. I’m not nearly as bad as you think I am. Or maybe I am and that’s what tempts you the most One drink. What would it hurt?”

As he spoke, he led her toward his midnight blue Mercedes convertible. It was one of the perks of his assignment. Of course, a flashy car wasn’t going to be much good to him if he ended up dead. A couple more weeks and the job would be finished. Then he could go back to his regular life and Nick Archer would be no more.

He paused in front of the passenger side and pulled out his keys from his pants pocket.

Hannah stared at the car. “Is it stolen?”

“If I say no, will you say yes?”

“Is it?”

He grinned. “I’ve got the title in the glove box. Want to check it out?”

He opened the door and motioned to the pale gray leather seat. He fully expected Hannah to slap him across the face, call him several obscene names and stalk back to her sensible sedan parked on the other side of the lot. He even stiffened in anticipation of the blow.

The blow came in a completely different form.

Shock. Mind-numbing shock when she muttered, “I’m insane,” and slipped inside his car.

Nick carefully closed the passenger door and swore under his breath. Just his luck. The ice queen decided to thaw the day he had to get out of town.

* * *

Hannah touched her tongue to the rim of her glass and let the salt dissolve in her mouth. With a quick prayer that she wouldn’t choke—or worse—she picked up the shot of tequila sitting next to her margarita glass and downed it in one long, burning swallow.

Fire ripped through her. She gasped out loud but didn’t cough, then blinked back the tears that sprang to her eyes. Better, she thought, relieved as the fire turned to an almost comfortable heat.

“You all right?” Nick asked, frowning faintly.

“Fine,” she managed to reply, her voice only slightly raspy from the alcohol.

He leaned back against the red booth seat “You win this round, Hannah. I never guessed you did shooters.”

She shrugged as if to say there was a lot about her he didn’t know. Actually, he didn’t know anything about her, but he had been right about the shooters. She’d never had one before tonight And probably wouldn’t again, she reflected as a wave of alcohol rushed to her brain and made the room tilt slightly. Normally she limited herself to a single drink. White wine, or maybe a spritzer. If it was a special occasion, she might indulge in a glass of champagne. Not today. She was on her second margarita and had ordered extra shots with both.

What was the phrase? Dutch courage? She needed her share of that, plus as much as she could get from any other source that offered it If she did what she was thinking, it was going to take every ounce of bravery she’d ever had. If she didn’t, she was going to break an old woman’s heart Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. Sometimes life wasn’t fair.

The cocktail waitress strolled by. “Can I get you two something else?”

She asked the question of both of them, but her attention clearly focused on Nick. Hannah couldn’t blame the woman. She often had trouble noticing anyone else when he was around. It was as if the whole world was dark and Nick was the only light The fact that the waitress noticed, too, only meant the other woman had good taste.

Hannah resisted the urge to drop her head to her hands and moan. She was more drunk than she realized if she’d started thinking positive things about Nick Archer. He was nothing more than a common criminal. Oh, he hadn’t been arrested for anything…at least, none of the charges had stuck. He had a clean record. But she knew the type. He was smooth. Too smooth for someone like her.

“Hannah?” Nick motioned to her half-empty glass.

She waved him off and he dismissed the waitress. The busty blonde gave him a quick smile. Funny, he didn’t seem to notice.

“But she’s beautiful,” Hannah blurted out, then covered her mouth too late to hold in the words.

Nick frowned. That was twice in as many minutes. She liked how his eyebrows drew so close together. His forehead got all wrinkly, then when he relaxed, it smoothed out again.

“Who’s beautiful?” he asked.

She’d almost forgotten her statement, so it took her a second to figure out what he was asking. “The waitress.”

He didn’t even look over toward the bar to find the woman in question. “If you say so.”

“You didn’t think she was pretty?”

“I didn’t notice.”

“Sure.”

Boy, next he would be telling her about some oceanfront property he had in Arizona. All he needed was the Big One to push California into the ocean. Only California wouldn’t fall into the ocean during an earthquake. The tectonic plates were pushing north. Eventually, Los Angeles and San Francisco would be within commuting distance. It would only take a couple million years to accomplish.

“I liked geography,” she said. “So you can keep your oceanfront property.”

“Excuse me?”

He looked puzzled. Genuinely flummoxed. Hannah smiled. At least, it felt like she was smiling. It was hard to tell. Her lips were numb. Flummoxed. She repeated the word in her mind. It was a good word with a nice sound. She should try to work it into a sentence more often.

“Hannah?”

She glanced at Nick. He was staring at her. “What?”

“What do you mean ‘what?’ Why are you talking about geography?”

“I’m not.”

“But you said…” He shook his head. “You’re drunk. I can’t believe it. On a margarita and a half. Talk about a lightweight.”

“I had shooters,” she reminded him, then wondered if she should protest his statement that she was drunk. Of course she was. And there was that pesky numb feeling creeping from her lips to her cheeks. “It’s your fault,” she muttered.

“Mine? Why?”

“You’re always there.” She took another sip of her drink. “Talking to me. Asking me out. Why’d you have to do that?”

“Maybe I like you.”

“Oh, sure.” He liked her. Yeah, right. No doubt. Average-looking female police officers were every man’s fantasy. She must get a hundred offers a day.

“You don’t believe me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Why should I?”

His mouth curved into a slow smile. She felt the impact all the way down to her toes. He was sinfully handsome with big eyes the color of midnight blue. Thick lashes, sort of a medium brown and tipped with gold. Gold blond hair, layered and just to the top of his collar. Broad shoulders, great body, at least what she’d been able to see of it under his expensive suits. Despite being a criminal, Nick dressed like a corporate executive. He was funny, although she always tried hard not to laugh at his jokes. He was a smooth talker, charming and way out of her league. She knew better than to believe anything he might try to tell her.

He leaned forward and touched the back of her hand. It was just one finger barely stroking her skin. Her cheeks were completely numb, she couldn’t feel her legs at all, yet that single touch burned through her like a laser through steel.

She told herself to pull away, or at least to slap him real hard. She did nothing but stare at his finger, at his hand, at their hands so close together. Then her chest got tight and she had to remind herself to breathe.

“What’s wrong, Hannah?”

“Nothing.”

“Bull. I know you, and something’s wrong.”

The assurance in his voice made her nervous. She withdrew her hand to her lap and took another sip of the margarita. Then she glanced around the room and tried to see if anyone she knew was in the bar. It wasn’t likely. The cops at the station had their own hangout and it wasn’t this trendy beachfront establishment. She and Nick were in a back corner booth with a view of the ocean to her right. The sun was just setting, sending shards of yellow and gold light across the calm sea. It was a picture-perfect moment, complete with the handsome, albeit slightly blurry escort.

“You don’t know me at all,” she said.

“I know that you don’t trust me, so why’d you accept my invitation for a drink?”

“Maybe your charm won me over.”

He laughed out loud. The pleasant sound brought a smile to her lips. “Try again,” he said.

He wasn’t the only thing that was blurry, she realized. The edges of the room were starting to fold in on themselves. When was the last time she’d been this drunk? Once, at a friend’s wedding, she recalled hazily, trying to remember exactly when. Maybe five years ago.

Why had she come out with Nick? She ignored the shifting room and thought about his question. Because he’d asked her out about twice a week for a year and every single time she’d wanted to say yes.

It was dumb for a woman like her to be attracted to a man like him. It wasn’t just that he was so much better-looking, or even that he was a criminal and she was a cop. It was that Nick lived life on a completely different level than she did. He got into the moment while she walked around with her head down. He was spontaneous laughter, spontaneous fun, spontaneous sex—oops, where had that thought come from?—while she planned everything out. He joked and teased while she kept the world at bay.

“I needed a break,” she said at last, mostly because it was true.

“Something tells me that’s just an excuse. You’re using me to put off something you don’t want to do.”

Her head snapped up Big mistake. The slight blurring became a wild spinning. Even her seat seemed to be moving. Then she sucked in some air and it all slowed to a manageable level.

“Maybe,” she admitted.

Her hands were once again on the table. He reached across and grabbed one. His thumb brushed against the back of her fingers. It felt nice.

“I need a husband,” she blurted out.

To his credit, Nick didn’t withdraw, or even stiffen. His thumb kept moving back and forth, back and forth. A lethargic heat crept up her arm. His gaze continued to hold hers, the half smile still hovering at the corners of his mouth. Maybe he hadn’t heard her. Maybe she hadn’t actually said it out loud.

“A husband?” he asked calmly. “The usual reason?”

“Usual reason? What’s that?” She thought for a second. “Oh. Oh! Ah, no, not that. I mean, I’m not pregnant.”

Embarrassment flooded her and she gulped the rest of her drink. She thought about flagging down the waitress for another, then decided she was going to be sick enough in the morning as it was. Besides, Nick was still on his first beer and he’d barely touched it at all.

“Good.”

She blinked. What were they talking about? “Good what?”

“I’m glad you’re not pregnant.”

“Me, too. Oh, the husband thing.” She waved her free hand. “I have some family business. It requires me to be married for a few days. I don’t know. Maybe not. Maybe I should just come clean. But she’s so old. What if the shock kills her?” She stared at him earnestly. “I really wouldn’t want that to happen. I haven’t actually even met her, but I want to. Do you think she’ll understand?”

“Yes.”

She had a brief moment of clarity. “You don’t have a clue as to what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Nope. But I like the sound of your voice, so just keep talking.”

She realized he was still stroking her fingers with his thumb. Regretfully, she pulled free of the seductive contact. If only it was true. If only Nick Archer really did think she was a hot babe.

Hannah giggled. She was athletic, strong, and she wore a pistol when she went to work. Somehow she didn’t think she fitted the definition of the word babe.

He toyed with her because it amused him and probably because she hadn’t fallen at his feet the first time she’d seen him. She would have fallen, but she’d already been sitting down, so it had been easy to pretend to be calm.

“You could hire a husband,” he said. “If it’s only temporary.”

“Oh, it is. Just for a few days. Believe me, I’ve thought about it and I could phone…” She glared at him. “You’re laughing at me.”

“Only a little. So what kind of guy would you ask for, Hannah? Who’s your ideal man?”

The numbness spread up her face, although strangely enough, she could actually feel her eyelashes.

Him. He was perfect, at least physically. But she wasn’t about to say that. She would have to be a whole lot drunker than this to confess that little secret to Nick.

“Someone who follows the rules,” she said.

He winced as if she’d slapped him. “That one hurt. Are you implying I’m not a rule follower?”

“You’re a common criminal.”

“I might be a criminal, but I’ve never been common.” He leaned back in the booth. “How long do you need the guy for?”

“Three or four days. Just to drive north, meet my family, then come back.”

“Sounds simple enough. What does it pay?”

“Why do you ask?”

He held out both hands, palms up. “You could never phone an escort service to hire someone and we both know it Call the interest a friendly gesture on my part”

“But we’re not friends,” she muttered, then cleared her throat Nick? A temporary husband? She shuddered. It would never work.

“How much?” he asked. When she stared at him blankly, he asked, “How much are you willing to pay?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t thought about money.” What was the going hourly rate for fake husbands these days? “It doesn’t matter. You’re not right for this. I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

She started to slide out of the booth, but it was harder to move than she thought it would be. Then he placed his hand over hers and that darn heat started up again, and she didn’t want to move.

“I’m happy to help,” he said. “I need to get out of town for a few days anyway.”

“Oh, I’ll just bet you do. What is it this time? A real-estate deal gone wrong? Or maybe the husband of one of your women decided to take matters into his own hands.”

Nick stared at her for a long time. Something flickered in his gaze, something dark and secretive. Then he blinked and it was gone. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said lightly. “Face it, Hannah. Where else are you going to find a man willing to pretend to be your husband on such short notice?”

He was right She certainly didn’t have the skills to seduce a man into doing it, nor was there a man around. Except for Nick. Not that she was interested in seducing Nick.

She hunched over, half expecting lightning to strike. When it didn’t she straightened. She could do worse. At least he was gorgeous. And he thought on his feet. If anyone started asking questions, Nick would be able to ward them off. It was only for a couple of days and it wasn’t as if she was overflowing with other options.

“I’ll pay two hundred dollars and the travel expenses,” she said, then nearly bit her tongue in her haste to call the words back. But it was too late.

He raised his eyebrows. “I was thinking more of a trade. One weekend of husbanding for one night of—”

She raised her hand. “Don’t say it.”

“Passionate lovemaking,” he finished.

She winced. “Four hundred, in cash. No touching.”

“Let’s spend the weekend negotiating. When do you want to leave?”

Was there really a choice? Despite all her talk, she would never have been able to call an escort service. Wasn’t bringing Nick along better than breaking an old woman’s heart? “In the morning. I want to be there on Saturday.”

“Where is there?”

“Northern California.”

He held out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

She wished she had another shot to give her courage. She wished she’d never mentioned it in the first place. She wished she’d never gotten in his car.

But wishing didn’t change anything and he was her best bet. That’s probably why she was here, having a drink with him. The power of the subconscious mind at work.

She slipped her hand in his and they shook. The contact was electric. She expected to see smoke and fire, but there was only Nick smiling at her. Enjoying her predicament and having power over her at last.

And he did have power. Comparing his power to the power of the subconscious mind was like comparing an eighteen-wheeler to a toy truck. She had a bad feeling she had just stepped in front of headlights and was about to be mowed down.

Chapter Two

Hannah stared at the front door. She didn’t want to open it. Not only because her head hurt and the thought of sunlight was enough to bring tears to her eyes, but also because she didn’t want to face the man on the other side.

Insanity. There was no other explanation. Maybe it ran in her family. She’d been adopted, so there was no way to tell. Or maybe her blood sugar had dipped below the normal range and she’d had a brief blackout episode. Whatever the explanation, she didn’t have the guts to face him and accept what they’d agreed to do.

He knocked again. “Hannah? Are you awake?”

“Yes,” she whispered even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. She cleared her throat and spoke more loudly. “I’m right here. Hold on.”

She turned the key in the dead-bolt lock and pulled open the door. Nick stood on the front step of her town house. The sunlight made her blink, as did Nick. It wasn’t fair. Even in her weakened condition—with her head pounding and her stomach rolling—he looked good. Better than good. He looked tempting.

She was used to being impressed by his sheer male beauty. He was a California cliché with his blond hair, blue eyes and loose, easy stride. The well-made suits he wore only enhanced his assets. If he had any physical flaws, she’d never noticed. She’d gotten used to ignoring his good looks, his tailored clothing, his bright smile. They were meaningless trappings that merely concealed the flaws in his character. She was immune.

Well, unless she had a hangover. She stood in the doorway and reminded herself to breathe. In and out, in and out until the involuntary function kicked back in on its own. He wasn’t wearing a suit, or handmade shoes, or even a tie. Instead, he’d dressed in jeans and a plain white shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows. His boots looked worn. But the smile was just as devastating as it always had been. Thank the Lord she could blame her weak knees on her hangover.

“You look awful,” he said cheerfully and pushed past her into the town house. “Hangover?”

“No,” she murmured between clenched teeth. The volume of his voice made her head ache. “I feel fine.”

“Uh-huh.” He moved in front of her, shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “I can tell. Are you packed?”

“Yes.”

It wasn’t only the effects of the alcohol that were slowing her down. It was also lack of sleep. At four in the morning, her eyes had popped open. Despite how awful she felt, or perhaps because of it, she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. She’d stared at the ceiling alternately praying that her memories about their evening together had been a dream, then hoping they were real.

“Did you take anything?” he asked. “Aspirin?”

She nodded, then wished she hadn’t actually moved her head.

His smile was sympathetic. “You’re such a straitlaced person, I doubt I could talk you into trying the hair of the dog, right?”

She stared at his face, at the wide blue eyes, the straight nose that should have been broken countless times but obviously hadn’t been. At the strong mouth, stubborn chin, the freshly shaved, tanned skin. He was gorgeous. It wasn’t fair.

His being nice to her only made it worse, she thought miserably as her stomach churned again. She hated when people tried to take care of her. She knew what was going on. They wanted to lull her into trusting them, then they would leave. She wasn’t about to play that game again.

“I’m fine,” she snapped and took a step back. “And I’m ready to go.”

“Great.”

She sucked in a deep breath, grabbing hold of the front door when dizziness threatened. “Where’s my car?”

“In the carport.”

That’s what she’d been afraid of. Her recollections of the end of the evening were fuzzy at best. She did remember Nick telling her she was way too drunk to drive and her agreeing with him about that. So instead of taking her back to the police station to collect her car, he’d brought her home. She vaguely recalled he’d promised to have her car delivered to her town house carport. Simple enough…except for one small problem.

She reached up toward the keys hanging from the lock in the front door. She found her car key and tugged on it gently. “You didn’t have a car key,” she said.

His sympathetic smile broadened and she nearly lost her balance. “I know. I asked one of my associates to take care of it. You probably don’t want to ask too many questions.”

She squeezed her eyes shut. Nick was right. Questions—or rather, answers—would only make her uncomfortable. She didn’t want to think about the ramifications of someone breaking into and then hot-wiring her car, all while it sat in a police department parking lot.

“Do I have to worry about this person joyriding in my car?” she asked, opening her eyes and looking at him. “It wasn’t used in a drive-by shooting or anything, was it?”

He touched his hand to his chest. “I’m wounded. You talk as if I’m a thug. Hannah, I’m in real estate. I’m willing to admit a few of my employees are a little…” He paused.

“Creative in their dealings with the law?” she offered.

“Exactly. But my record is clean. You’ve seen that for yourself.”

“Right.”

She’d also seen him in the station bailing his associates out of jail. Only a madwoman would take Nick Archer to meet her mother. A really desperate madwoman.

“You’re not having second thoughts, are you?” he asked.

“Oh, no.” That was true. She was up to fifth or sixth thoughts. She opened her mouth to tell him that and to let him know that this was never going to work, but instead, she motioned to her luggage. “I’m packed.”

In her weakened condition, she was willing to admit she wanted to spend a few hours in his company and discover the man behind the smooth facade. Crazy, certainly. He was a criminal and she was cop. She should loathe and despise him. And she did. Sort of. She also had to admit—if only to herself—that Nick’s charm was hard as hell to resist. The way he made her laugh felt nice.

He moved toward her luggage. I’m doing this for you, Mom, she thought and hoped it was the right thing to do. A dying old woman expected Hannah to have a husband. Was it so very wrong to allow her to think one really existed?

Nick grabbed two of the suitcases. “This is a lot for a weekend.”

“I’m not going for a weekend.”

“You said a couple of days.”

“That’s right. You’re staying with me for a couple of days, but I’ll be staying for two weeks.”

He raised his eyebrows and managed a hurt expression. “You’re going on vacation and didn’t tell me? Hannah, that’s so insensitive.”

She wanted to laugh, but he looked amazingly sincere. Yet he couldn’t be. This was a game of some kind. She was too befuddled to figure it out right now, but when her hangover wore off, she was sure everything would make sense.

“Nice place,” he said, nodding toward the living room on his left.

She glanced at the floral-print sofa, the white brick fireplace and the pale pine coffee table. What did her place look like to him? Everything was tidy. The colors were bright, definitely feminine. He probably sensed a man had never spent the night under her roof. The thought embarrassed her, although she wasn’t sure why. It was none of his business. So what if she chose not to sleep around? In this day and age, anything but caution was foolish.

He headed out the front door. She picked up the remaining suitcase and followed him. After carefully turning off the lights and securing the lock, she moved down the two steps to his Mercedes parked at the curb.

Thankfully, the convertible top was up. She wouldn’t have been able to face all that fresh air. Just the thought made her head ache more. Intellectually, she knew the car had been paid for with illegally obtained funds. It might even have been stolen, although Nick was probably smarter than that. It was more than she could ever afford and it was stunning. Even knowing where it had come from, she couldn’t help admiring the beautiful lines.

She remembered the interior smelled of fine leather and the seats were a luxurious combination of softness and support. The car was going to make the nine-hour drive seem like four.

She set her suitcase on the sidewalk beside the open trunk. Nick moved his garment bag to make room for the last piece of luggage. She watched to make sure everything was stowed in the car, then moved to the passenger door. It was locked and she had to wait for him to open it.

He did so, then paused. “You look pale.”

“Gee, thanks.” Her headache had increased until the throbbing sounded like drums beating in time with her heart.

“It was that second shot. You would have been fine if you hadn’t had it.”

She wanted to yell at him that it was all his fault. If he hadn’t made her order the drink…But she couldn’t. He hadn’t made her do anything. She’d been nervous and had acted stupidly all on her own. Still, it would have been satisfying to get all huffy at Nick.

When she slid into the seat, he crouched beside her and made sure she was comfortable, with the seat belt adjusted correctly. She bore his attention for about twenty seconds, then slapped his hands away. “I’m not an invalid. I can do this on my own.”

He was close enough that she could inhale the masculine scent of his aftershave and see the clean, smooth line of his jaw. Damn him for looking so good and damn herself for being so nasty for no good reason.

“I know you’re not an invalid,” he said quietly. “You don’t feel well. I’m trying to make you comfortable. It’s going to be a long drive.”

Hannah prided herself on her control. She was a cop and she knew how to act in a crisis. Unfortunately, her hard-won skills seemed to have deserted her for the moment. She opened her mouth, couldn’t think of anything to say, then clamped her lips together as a blush crawled up her cheeks.

She ducked her head and stared at her lap. “Sorry. I’m not myself this morning.”

“Then who are you?”

His teasing made her smile. She glanced at him. He was staring at her as if he’d never seen her before. She rubbed her cheek, trying to brush off a smudge, then checked for loose strands floating free of her braid. Everything was in place.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing. I was just thinking.”

But he never said what he was thinking. Right there, with her sitting in the passenger seat of his car and him crouched next to her, in front of whichever of her neighbors might be home and watching, in front of God and the whole world, he kissed her.

He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against hers. Shock kept her in place for the first three seconds. She couldn’t think, she couldn’t move. She could only let her eyes flutter closed as she absorbed the heat and scent of him.

His lips were warm and firm, yielding, yet strong. He didn’t try to move much, or deepen the kiss. They touched nowhere else, at least not at first.

Then she felt his fingers on the back of her hand. A sweet, gentle stroking that sent fire racing up her arm. The pounding of her headache receded, as did the rest of the world.

He released her, raising his head slightly. She nearly moaned in disappointment. She told herself to get all upset and complain, to unfasten the seat belt, slide out of the car and slap him until his head bobbed like one of those toy dogs in the back of cars. She told herself a lot of things, all the while waiting for him to kiss her again, or worse, to mock her.

What he did was even more devastating. He cupped her cheek with his free hand and murmured, “Sweet Hannah.” As if she really meant something to him. As if this wasn’t a joke.

He leaned forward. She held her breath in anticipation. He covered her mouth with his and this time he moved. Back and forth, slow and sweet. As if they had all the time in the world. As if his legs weren’t cramping, which she knew they had to be. As if she was a delicate and precious person in his life.

Maybe it was the unexpected tenderness, or the hangover, or some weird placement of the moon and the planet Pluto. She didn’t have an explanation for her reaction, or for the fact that she leaned into the kiss and parted her mouth slightly in response.

Instead of deepening the kiss, he placed his hands on her shoulders and squeezed. For the first time in her life, she felt small and fragile. Delicate. Feminine.

Then the heat overwhelmed her, and all she could think about was how she wanted to keep kissing him forever. She could die happy right this moment.

At last he straightened. Hannah stared at him dumbfounded. Questions formed, everything from why had he kissed her to had he liked it as much as she had. But she didn’t ask any of them. Instead, she swallowed hard and tried to summon up some fury. Barring that, she wouldn’t mind going with a little righteous indignation. If Nick started teasing her, she would need something for protection. Right now, she felt very exposed.

He started to close the passenger door, then paused and leaned toward her again.

“Ten bucks,” he said.

“Huh?”

He winked. “The kiss. It was worth ten bucks.”

“I don’t understand.” He wanted money for kissing her?

“We agreed on four hundred dollars for the weekend. The kiss was worth ten bucks to me, so now you only owe me three hundred and ninety.” He started to close the door, then paused again. “In cash…or trade.”

Before she could say anything, he slammed the door shut and came around to the driver’s side. Hannah couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She stared straight ahead and wondered what on earth she’d gotten herself into.

Nick didn’t say anything as he started the engine. He selected a classical station on the radio, then pulled out and headed for the freeway.

She leaned back in the seat. Her lips still tingled. Ten bucks. The kiss was worth that and more. Originally, Nick had wanted a night of hot sex in exchange for helping her out. She’d been the one to insist on cash. Maybe, just maybe, she’d been a bit hasty in her decision.

* * *

By nine, they’d reached the northern outskirts of Los Angeles County. Nick pulled off Interstate 5 in the bedroom community of Valencia and they got coffee at a drive-through fast-food place. When they returned to the freeway, Hannah sipped the steaming hot liquid and wondered for the four thousandth time what on earth she’d been thinking. Was she crazy?

To make matters worse, Nick could read her mind. Just as she was starting up another litany berating herself, he asked, “Why are you doing this? What’s so important that you have to pretend to be married?”

She took another sip and pondered the question. Easy enough—except she didn’t really want to have to tell him the truth.

He glanced at her and quirked up one eyebrow. “You probably think I’m just being nosy, but the truth is I need some background information so I can get into my role. I’m more of a method actor. You know, feel the part and all that.”

Despite her apprehension, she smiled. “That makes sense. Okay, I’ll fill you in, but I have to warn you. It’s a long, boring story.”

“No problem. This is a long, boring drive.”

He’d always had a good sense of humor. That’s one of the things she liked about him. Not that she really liked him or anything. Oh, yeah, she thought, wondering if lightning would strike the sleek car. She didn’t like him and she wasn’t attracted to him. That’s why she’d invited him to be a part of her life for the next three days and why she’d kissed him back.

At the station, he’d been a lot easier to ignore, but now no one else was around to see. She could lighten up a little. It wasn’t as if she was getting involved with Nick. She knew exactly who and what he was. No matter how charming and funny, he still lived on the wrong side of the law.

“My birth mother gave me up for adoption,” she said and glanced out at the low mountains around them. They were climbing out of the Santa Clarita Valley, heading north toward Glenwood. “A few months ago, I received a letter from her.”

“Your real mom?”

“Yeah.”

He glanced at her. “Without warning? That must have kicked up your heart rate.”

“I’ll admit I walked around in a fog for days. I couldn’t believe it She’d hired a private detective to find me.”

“Are you angry about it?”

Hannah was surprised at his perception. She shrugged. “I don’t know. Sometimes. I seem to go through stages of curiosity, longing and rage. Right now I’m curious. I want answers. I guess most children who are given up for adoption have a lot of questions. What were the circumstances in my biological mother’s life? Did she give me up right away, or did she keep me around for a while? Did she…” Did she love me?

Hannah didn’t voice that, although it was always deep in her mind. That was the one question that plagued her the most. Had her birth mother cared about her at all? Had this been a callous gesture, the quick and easy way to get rid of a problem? Or had there been overriding forces at work, ripping an innocent child from her caring mother?

“Did she have second thoughts?” she said, completing the statement so Nick wouldn’t get any ideas. She already regretted confiding in him.

“Had you tried to get in touch with her yourself?” he asked.

“No. I thought about it from time to time, but I never knew what I was going to say if I found her. I figured if she’d wanted me in the first place, she would have kept me around.”

“What do your adoptive folks say about this?”

“They died a long time ago.” Hannah clutched the foam coffee cup in her hands. Twenty-three years ago. She’d been so young, she barely remembered them. She did remember being happy, though. Not just the occasional glad moment, but happy all the time.

“Any other family?” he asked.

“That’s really none of your business.”

“Right. I’m just the husband. Sorry, I forgot.”

“It’s not necessary for you to know every detail about my private life. I’m not trying to be difficult. I would simply prefer that you didn’t pry.”

“I’m sort of surprised you can walk as well as you do,” he said.

She stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“It must be difficult, what with that giant chip on your shoulder. Most people would have to drag a leg behind them or something, just to keep balanced.”

She didn’t know whether to burst out laughing or slap him. “I do not have a chip on my shoulder.”

“Yeah, right. You also don’t keep the rest of the world away by pretending not to need anyone, either. Go on. You got this letter from your real mother. Then what happened?”

She was openmouthed at his assessment of her character. She wanted to protest that she didn’t keep the world at bay. At least, not on purpose. It just sort of happened. She hadn’t grown up the way everyone else had. After her adoptive parents had died, she’d never been a part of a family for any length of time. She’d been bounced around foster homes. She didn’t know how to have several close friends, share pieces of her life, or even tell jokes. Socially, she was definitely at the dull-normal end of the range.

“Hannah? The letter?”

“Oh. Well, she found me by using a private detective. Apparently, all the records got messed up at the adoption agency. Plus, because I wasn’t searching for her, they wouldn’t give out any information they still had. Not that it would have helped, what with my parents dying.”

“What does this have to do with me?” he asked. “Why do you need a husband?”

“Because when the detective located me, I was still married.”

He turned his head and glared at her. “Married?” The outrage in his voice made her smile.

“Yes, married.”

“Married?”

“Nick, watch the road. I want to get to Glenwood in one piece.”

He returned his attention to the road and swore under his breath. “Dammit, Hannah, you didn’t tell me you were married.”

“Why are you acting like it matters?”

“Because it does.”

“That’s crazy. We don’t even know each other.”

“That’s something a man likes to know before he pretends to be somebody’s husband.”

“Sorry. I’ll remember that for next time.”

He shook his head. “Married.”

Her amusement turned to irritation. “I know it’s hard for you to imagine this, but there are actually men who find me attractive. Amazingly, I did trap one into a committed relationship, at least for a short period of time.”

She hadn’t trapped Shawn, although the relationship had been a mistake from the beginning. They’d only been married five days. Even thinking about it made her embarrassed. It was a foolish episode from her past.

“How long have you been divorced?” he asked.

“About two months.”

“Two months? You mean all this past year you were living with your husband?“

She sighed. “Why are you taking this so hard? You’re acting like I’ve cheated on you. No, I wasn’t living with my husband. We’ve been separated about four years. I just never bothered filing for divorce and neither did he. Until recently.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing I want to discuss with you. The important point is that when the detective found me, I was still married. The letter from Louise—that’s my biological mother—mentioned that she wanted to meet my husband.”

“Why didn’t you tell her the truth when you talked to her on the phone?”

The car glided over the paved highway. Hannah turned to her right and pretended interest in the billboards. “Well, one reason was that she said that she wanted us to get together while there was still time. I’m afraid she’s very ill. I didn’t want to upset her. She’s an old woman. That’s why I hired you. We show up together. I’m the long-lost daughter, you’re my husband. We act pleasant. In a couple of days you get a business call and return to Southport Beach. When I’m sure she can handle it, I’ll tell her the truth.”

“Sounds pretty flaky to me.”

“I don’t recall asking your opinion.”

“Hey, don’t worry, babe. I’m not going to charge you extra for it. I’ve run plenty of scams in my time.”

“I’m sure you have.”

He winked. “Some of them have been legitimate.”

“Want to give me a percentage?”

“Not really. The trick is to keep them as close to real as possible. You should have brought the ex with you. It would have been a lot easier.”

“He wasn’t available right now.”

“Traveling on business?”

She wondered what Nick would say if she told him about Shawn. She could already hear the teasing remarks. Better to walk on broken glass and eat poisoned dung beetles for breakfast.

“You might say that.”

“I might. What would you say?”

She sucked in a breath. “Shawn is working right now.”

“Oh. Shawn. Let me guess. Some Ivy League type with three numbers after his name and a pedigree longer than the grand champion at a dog show.”

She bit on her lower lip to keep from laughing. Please, God, never let Nick find out the truth. “Sort of.”

Nick stewed over that for a while. She watched the mile markers zip by. Ten minutes later, he said, “You never finished answering my question. Why didn’t you tell your mother the truth when you talked to her on the phone?”

She crossed her legs and folded her arms over her chest. “I haven’t actually spoken with her on the phone. We’ve been writing letters.”

“Why? Wouldn’t it be easier to pick up the phone and call?”

“No, it wouldn’t”

She half turned in the seat, facing away from him as much as the seat belt would allow. He couldn’t understand her mixed emotions about what was happening. His life was so different from hers. Nick was one of those people who was blessed. He had good looks, charm, wit, a sharp mind. It was unfortunate he’d chosen to use his talents the way he had. If he’d been honest, he could have gone far.

It was different for her. She had to worry about things. She wasn’t gifted. People thought she was so calm and composed, but she felt like a poster she’d once seen of a swan. Above the surface, the bird seemed to be gliding along, but underneath the water, where no one could see, its feet were working like crazy to keep up the facade.

From the time she’d lost her parents and been dumped in her first foster home, she realized that no one wanted her around. She couldn’t remember the number of times she’d been told the state wasn’t paying enough for the family to keep her for long. She’d lost track of the number of houses, apartments, schools she’d been in.

For a while, she’d wanted to fit in, to belong. She’d really tried. But her attempts hadn’t been enough, or she’d done it the wrong way, because no one had noticed. Eventually, she stopped trying. Sometimes the people were nice enough, but she learned early on not to depend on anyone but herself. It was better not to care. Nothing ever lasted. Even when it seemed things were working out, she was always sent somewhere else.

She felt his hand on top of hers. She pushed him away.

“Hannah, honey, I know you’re scared. But it’s going to be okay.”

“I’m not scared and you don’t know it’s going to be okay.”

“Sure I do. I’m here. I’m going to make it work. You’ll see.”

She sniffed and ignored him. Cheap talk from someone used to buying whatever he wanted. Actually, she didn’t know that about Nick; she was only assuming. But it was probably true.

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

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.”

She made him work for every point. God, he adored her. “I know about the divorce, but that’s not information you want spread around, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “Be serious, Nick. You’re supposed to be my first and only husband. You know I was adopted, that I’m a cop. What else is there?”

“How about some information about your childhood? Your adoptive parents. Anything about them?”

She stared out the window. “I was too young to remember much. I don’t want to talk about them.”

“Okay. School. Your favorite subject.”

“I don’t remember. I don’t think I had one. When I was moved around to different foster homes, I also had to change schools. I don’t think this is necessary. It’s not as if Louise is going to have a quiz after dinner and want you to recite details from my past.”

He knew some of her crankiness came from nerves, but the rest of it was because they were treading close to dangerous territory. He knew all about the child welfare system. Some kids got lucky. Others, like Hannah, got passed around from place to place. He knew about growing up lonely and scared, too. He’d had one parent at home—his father. At times, he thought it would have been better if the old man had just kicked him out and let him make his own way.

Hannah twisted her hands together. Nick wanted to reach out to her, but sensed she wasn’t in any mood to accept comfort She was prickly, but the shell had to be hard to protect a soft heart. While the thought of her actually caring about him was terrifying, he could easily be concerned about her. It was safe because there wasn’t a chance of it becoming real.

“You grew up in Los Angeles?” he asked.

“Orange County.”

“College?”

“Yes, I went.”

He smiled. “What did you major in?”

“Nick, none of this is important” She crossed and uncrossed her legs.

With a flash of insight, Nick figured it out. Hannah regretted confessing as much as she had to him. She wasn’t used to sharing her life with anyone, let alone a man like him. She was afraid he would use the information against her. He wished he could reassure her, but doubted she would believe him. Besides, what was he supposed to say?

“I’m twenty-seven,” she said. “A communications officer with the Southport Beach Police Department I have brown hair and brown eyes. I think that’s more than enough personal stuff, don’t you?”

“Yeah. And I want to thank you for that revealing glance into your private life. We’re going to be a completely believable couple.”

She stared at him, wide-eyed. “Of course we will be. All you have to do is follow my lead. I’m a trained police officer. I know how to handle difficult situations. You’re a professional con artist, used to thinking on your feet. This is going to be simple. The easiest scam you’ve ever pulled.”

He knew what he was pretending to be. Her assumptions about him proved that his cover had been successful. Still, the remarks stung. As he concentrated on the road, he told himself he was getting too old for this line of work. When the job was finished, he was going to have to rethink his life.

* * *

Welcome To Glenwood.

Hannah stared at the sign and wondered if she was going to throw up. Her stomach, which had calmed down considerably in the afternoon, started acting up again. This time, it wasn’t from the aftereffects of alcohol. It was nerves…and fear.

Nick pulled to the side of the road and turned off the engine. “What do you want to do? Find a hotel or find your mother?”

Her throat closed. She couldn’t speak. Worse, she couldn’t think. She opened her mouth. “I…” She drew in a breath and tried again. “The drive should have taken longer.”

He brushed a finger against the side of her cheek. “I know. Sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault.” She’d had a turn at the wheel and discovered that his luxury car did make it amazingly easy to speed. “Give me a minute here. I’m not sure what to do.” Her voice trembled. What had she been thinking when she decided to come up here? This was all a mistake.

Thoughts tumbled over and over in her mind. What to do? She glanced at Nick. He sat patiently waiting for her to decide. He’d been nice to her all day, even though she’d been difficult. She held back a sigh. She didn’t mean to be callous and uncaring. Or so private it came across as paranoid. Even though it had been a lot of years, she had trouble letting go of the past. Trusting people was hard. Trusting someone like him was nearly impossible. But she must have, at least a little, or she wouldn’t have brought him with her.

She rubbed her temples. She was putting off the inevitable. “Let’s see if we can find my mother’s street. If not, we’ll check into a hotel and start again in the morning.”

“No problem.” He started the car and pulled back out on the main road.

Louise had sent directions to where she lived. Hannah pulled out her letter and clicked on the map light. “She rents a room,” she said. “I’m guessing it’s some kind of nursing home or retirement center. I don’t know if that’s going to be in a residential area or not.”

“Depends on the zoning,” Nick said.

She told him where to turn. They drove past a large park. In the twilight, she could just make out a pond with white ducks. Several families had come down to the sloping banks to enjoy the balmy May evening.

Families. Hannah felt a twinge in her chest. She’d been alone most of her life. That’s what she was used to. Not depending on anyone. Now she had a mother. Would that change everything?

She spied a street sign. “Make a right here.”

The residential area looked like something out of a television movie. Two-story houses with wide porches. Mini-vans in the driveways, bikes left on lawns. Shouts of laughter drifted into the car. Hannah felt her throat tighten. When Nick gave her hand a squeeze, she didn’t push him away. Without wanting to admit it, even to herself, she took comfort in his presence.

They made another turn. The street got wider, the houses farther apart. Two-stories became three.

“Someone has money,” she said.

“Maybe it’s your mom.” He grinned.

She smiled back. “Wouldn’t you like that? You could get her involved in one of your land deals.”

“Hey, people have made lots of money with me.”

“Sure.”

“I would never hurt your mother.”

Oddly, she believed him.

“This is the street.” Hannah stared at the houses, sure something must be wrong. Louise couldn’t live here, could she? It didn’t make sense for one person. Maybe a large residence had been converted into apartments or something. “The address is 2301.”

The car slowed to a crawl. “That one,” Nick said, pointing to an especially large house.

In the gathering dusk, Hannah could just make out the shape of the peaked roof and wide porch. “It looks Victorian.”

“Probably is. I think railroad barons first settled this part of the state. The houses might be restored.”

There were so many cars in the driveway, there wasn’t room for theirs. He pulled up to the curb.

Hannah stared at the structure. Her heart pounded rapidly, her palms were sweaty, and she felt as if she was going to be sick.

“What did you tell her about your arrival?” Nick asked quietly.

“I didn’t know how long it was going to take to drive up. I thought we might do it in a couple of days. I just said sometime this weekend.”

“So she’s not expecting you tonight?”

“No. Why?”

He motioned to the cars. “I thought maybe she was throwing a welcome party for you.”

“I doubt that.”

“You want to go to the hotel and come back tomorrow?”

Yes! Yes! That would be great. She could sleep on it, figure out what to say. Slowly, she shook her head. That was the coward’s way out. “I want to go in.”

“Then let’s get it over with.”

He got out of the car and came around to her door. When she stepped out, he took her arm to steady her. Normally she would have slapped him away, or had a biting remark, but tonight her defenses were down. She was confident Nick would use this against her later, that he would tease her unmercifully. She didn’t care. Right now he was a warm body she could cling to. He was the only person she knew in this strange little town. If he offered comfort and protection, she was going to leap at the chance to take it.

She drew the strap of her small purse over her shoulder. Nick closed the car door, then hit the button that activated the alarm. Before she could step toward the house, he moved in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“She’s going to adore you,” he said.

“You think so?”

“I’m sure of it. Just try to remember to smile.”

She curled up her lips, but it felt like more of a grimace. Still, Nick grinned in return and she felt some of her tension ease. He grabbed her hand and started for the house.

As they climbed the steps of the porch, they could hear laughter. “Maybe it’s a party,” Hannah said. “We could be interrupting.”

“I’m sure having you show up will just add to the joy of the occasion.”

In spite of everything, she laughed. “You’re very quick with those lines.”

“They’re effective, too.” He winked.

“I’ll just bet they are.”

The wide front door looked imposing. Nick raised his free hand to knock, then glanced at her for approval. She sucked in a breath and nodded.

The sharp sound was followed by a burst of laughter, then a woman called, “I’ll get it.”

The porch light was bright, as was the light from the foyer. When the woman opened the door, Hannah could see her clearly.

She was on the tall side, maybe five-six, in her mid-forties. Hannah had a brief impression of blue eyes and a generous mouth before her attention focused on the woman’s clothes. She wore lime green slacks and a turquoise shirt. A gold belt circled her waist twice. Heavy makeup highlighted her features and big dangling earrings hung below the layered edges of her short blond hair.

Hannah could feel herself shaking. The only stable part of her world was Nick’s warm hand as he held on to her.

“Hi,” she said, forcing the words past uncooperative lips. “I’m not sure if we have the right house or not, but I’m looking for—”

The woman caught her breath and clapped her hands together, effectively cutting Hannah off. “Oh, my. I would have recognized you anywhere. Hannah, honey, you’re the spitting image of Earl and the boys.”

Nick leaned close. “Who are Earl and the boys?”

Hannah shrugged helplessly. Obviously this woman knew her. A close friend of her mother’s perhaps? Maybe a paid companion? “I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she said.

The woman smiled. “Of course not. Here I am talking about Earl and his sons, and I’m leaving out the most important part.” Tears sprang to her eyes and she sniffed. “Hannah, honey, I’m your mother. Welcome home.”

Wait a minute. This couldn’t be her mother. Hannah straightened and stared. What happened to the old frail woman who was sick or possibly dying? The person in front of her looked fit and strong.

Hannah found herself being pulled into an embrace. The woman, Louise—Hannah couldn’t really think of calling her Mom or Mother—stood in the doorway, about a half step above Hannah. That put them at the same height.

Strong arms drew Hannah close. She didn’t like being hugged by people she knew, let alone strangers. Yet this embrace felt oddly right. Almost familiar.

Louise cupped Hannah’s face in both hands. “You’re so pretty. I tried to imagine what you’d look like, but I never could. You have Earl’s eyes.”

“My…”

Louise nodded. “Your father. Your hair color is mine.” She tugged at a short blond strand. “I’m not a natural blonde, but you know what they say. I prefer it this way.” She smiled. “I can’t get over this. When I wrote you, I—” She looked past Hannah and gasped. “Your husband. Darling, I didn’t see you there. Welcome.” She held her arms open again. Nick stepped easily into her embrace and she hugged him tightly. “Aren’t you the handsomest man I’ve seen in a while. So tall.”

Louise smiled. “Hannah, honey, you picked wisely with this one. I didn’t always pick wisely, but I made sure they were pretty to look at.”

Nick grinned. “I’m going to like you, Louise.”

“Well, I hope so. I want you to know straight off, I’m not going to be a meddling mother-in-law.” Her smile faded. “I’m just happy to have the chance to see you at last. Both of you.” She took one of Hannah’s hands and one of Nick’s.

Hannah felt as if she’d been caught up in the middle of a tornado. She was being whirled around so fast, she couldn’t catch her breath or her balance.

“What’s going on, Louise?” a male voice called from inside the house.

Louise laughed. “I swear, it’s a good thing all my body parts are attached or I would leave them behind. Imagine me forgetting my manners. Come in.” She released their hands and stepped back, motioning them through the door. She patted Hannah’s arm. “The boys are going to be so thrilled. They’ve been waiting to meet you.”

Hannah swallowed. “Boys?”

“The Haynes brothers. Earl’s sons with his wife. I know it’s confusing, but you have four half brothers.”

Nick draped his arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “Great. With me, that’s enough to play basketball.”

“Actually, there’s Austin, too, but he’s not a real relative. More like an adopted member of the family.” Louise frowned. “Oh, did I just put my foot in my mouth? You don’t mind me saying adopted, do you?”

Numbly, Hannah shook her head.

They stepped into the living room. People were everywhere. Not just adults, but children. Lots of children. She couldn’t begin to estimate the size of the crowd. Over twenty people. And they were all staring at her.

“Everyone, this is Hannah. My daughter.” Louise’s voice cracked and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Isn’t she wonderful?”

Four men separated themselves from the group. They were tall, well over six foot, with dark hair and eyes. Hannah didn’t need to look at her own reflection to see the resemblance.

Her heart stopped in her chest. She felt it thunk once and then freeze. She was going to die, which was a very good thing.

Cops. Her bothers were cops. Only two were in uniform, but the remaining two had the same look about them. Cops who, if they knew about Nick and his shady practices, not to mention the deal she’d made with him, wouldn’t think twice about throwing them both in jail.

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