Her Hired Husband. Renee Roszel
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“I understand Sam is leaving this afternoon on vacation, too,” Abigail said, drawing Sally from her morose thoughts. She nodded. “Scuba diving in—Bon—Bon—” She couldn’t remember.
“Bonaire,” came a deep, male voice.
She turned in time to see Noah stroll in, four tall glasses on a wicker tray.
“H-how did you know?” she asked, then cringed. If she wasn’t careful she’d blow this herself. After all, he did know Sam. Evidently he’d heard her brother discussing it. She blew out a breath. There was his explanation. Simple and not even a lie.
“Don’t you remember, darling?” He glanced at her as he lay the tray on the coffee table. “You told me about Bonaire this morning while we were in the shower.”
She realized her lips had dropped open in a shocked “oh” and clamped her jaws. In the shower? Had he actually said in the shower?
She cast a worried glance at her grandparents. Abigail’s eyes were a fraction wider and Hubert tugged at his collar.
Her gaze zapped back to Noah, bending over the tray. If she stretched, she could just about kick that taut backside. He probably thought he was the funniest orderly at the hospital.
Opting not to get physical, she cleared her throat meaningfully, but he didn’t seem to notice as he handed two glasses to her grandparents. A flash of orange and black told her he’d found some paper napkins. Unfortunately they were covered with Halloween witches and pumpkins. Well, they’d been cheap at the day-after-Halloween sale, and they worked just fine. She must not let herself feel like an inferior hostess for being frugal.
When Noah handed her a glass, he said, “Six teaspoons of sugar, right, honey?”
She smiled thinly. “Perfect.” She was going to die of sugar toxicity, but the show must go on. As he ambled around to seat himself on the couch, he winked at her, blatantly flaunting their illicit collaboration. She sucked in a startled breath. What if her grandparents had seen him?
Though she was highly annoyed at his audacity, and promised herself she’d strangle him the first chance she had, she couldn’t stifle a wry giggle. Not only had his wink been unsubtle, but it had been sexy and appealing. Trying to adjust her attitude, she decided she’d better pretend she loved six spoonfuls of sugar, and sipped her tea. As the taste registered on her tongue, she paused in surprise. It was perfect. He hadn’t put in more than one teaspoonful, the bum. She cast him a secret look but he was focused on her grandparents as they stared at their glasses and squirmed. What did they expect to see, dirt?
Abigail lifted her glass almost to her lips, paused, then replaced it on the wicker tray. “Actually, we should be going.” She checked her diamond-studded watch. “Didn’t you tell the cabdriver to be back at three-thirty, Hubert? We ought to check in at the ship.”
Her husband scanned his own watch, and once again Sally had the oddest feeling she was looking at little blue-blooded bookends. “The time does fly,” Hubert murmured, pushing up to stand.
Noah set his glass on the tray and stood, too. “I think I hear the cab.” He held out a hand and assisted Abigail to stand. “Now, don’t be strangers.”
“I—well…” Abigail smiled briefly then averted her gaze to settle her full attention on smoothing her skirt. As Sally labored to stand, Abigail’s glance shot to her. “Oh, don’t bother.” She made a brisk, dismissing wave as though shooing a flea. “Your husband can see us to the door.”
Sally sank back without argument. That was fine with her. Lately, getting out of chairs was hard enough when she really wanted to. “Have a nice cruise,” she said, taking a sip of her tea. Thank heavens! The ordeal was almost over. Relaxing back, she closed her eyes.
A shriek and a thundering crash made them pop back open. The anguished howl that followed blasted her out of her chair.
CHAPTER TWO
NOAH felt an impact in his gut and looked down to see Abigail Vanderkellen sagging into him. Instinctively he scooped up the limp woman while he watched in shock as Hubert, who Abigail had apparently shoved in her initial panic, skidded across the entry tiles.
In a bizarre slow motion the elderly man toppled sideways into a metal sculpture that depicted what appeared to be a leafy, vining plant. With Mr. Vanderkellen’s impact, the sculpture pitched over, causing a thunderous crash. Hubert quickly followed the sculpture to earth, his landing accompanied by a dull thud. After all motion ceased, Mr. Vanderkellen lay sprawled, faceup, arched awkwardly across the spiky metal.
His howl brought Noah out of his momentary astonishment and he hurriedly placed a swooning Mrs. Vanderkellen on the sofa. “See to your grandmother,” he shouted at his fake wife as he rushed to Hubert.
Automatically he began a preliminary examination, wondering grimly when his workday would end and his long-anticipated vacation begin? This whole blasted day had been one time-consuming hassle after another. He’d thought he’d never get out of the hospital. When he pulled into Sam’s sister’s driveway, he’d been laboring under the delusion his headaches were over for the next two weeks. The cute pregnant lady who’d struggled down those steps hadn’t given him any reason to change his mind. Not until she’d grabbed his hand, slipped a wedding ring onto his finger and whispered urgently that they were deliriously happy.
That’s when he’d stepped into the Twilight Zone, and come face-to-face with a past he’d thought he’d left behind half a lifetime ago in Boston. He wasn’t surprised that Abigail and Hubert hadn’t immediately known him. After all, he’d left Massachusetts after graduating from high school and had only returned a few times to visit his family at Christmas. It was funny how life could deal you such crazy, surprising hands.
As he examined Hubert, he had the fleeting wish he was still dealing with last-minute hospital hassles. Since he’d come into Sam’s sister’s house a half hour ago, things had gone a little too nuts for his taste.
All he knew was, the pretty blonde, no doubt Sam’s sister, was terribly uncomfortable around her grandparents. Why that was true, he couldn’t imagine. He hadn’t known the Vanderkellens well, but they had never seemed like demons. Just a little pompous. Still, her obvious dismay had been enough for him to go along with her wordless plea.
Those big, gray eyes had an uncanny effect on him. Or maybe it was her advanced pregnancy that was the deciding factor. Being an obstetrician, it would be natural for him to want to ease the stress of a woman in her condition—apparently even if he didn’t have the faintest idea what in blazes he was doing.
He heard muted voices in the parlor and gathered Sam’s sister was seeing to her grandmother, who was regaining consciousness. Thank goodness for that, at least. “We’ll get you to a hospital, Mr. Vanderkellen, and—”
“No,” the older man wheezed. “No hospital.” He clutched Noah’s arm. “I don’t like hospitals—I don’t need one.”
“Don’t move him!” came a worried female voice from the parlor. “We need to call an ambulance!”
Sam’s sister appeared at the foyer entrance.
“How’s