Temporary Husband
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Val Whisenand
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Chapter One
Breathing a sigh of absolute relief, Sandy Walker rested her hands on the wheel of her station wagon and momentarily closed her eyes. Lord, her head hurt! But she was home, she reminded herself with a slight smile. Home to her husband, Wade, and the comfort of their wonderful house. It wasn’t as big or impressive as the residence she’d grown up in, but it was sure more of a home.
A little stiff, she climbed out of the car, eyeing the crumpled front wheel on her mountain bike as it lay in the back of the wagon. She was darned lucky she hadn’t been seriously hurt when she fell. Especially since she hadn’t been wearing her protective helmet the way she was supposed to.
Leaving the bike behind, she shouldered her purse and headed up the cement walkway to the front door. All she wanted was a big hug from Wade, a hot bath and some sleep.
Sandy opened the door, stepped inside and called out to her husband. “Honey? I’m home.”
In the kitchen, preparing dinner for one, Wade heard her summons clearly. Thinking at first that he was having hallucinations, he froze in midmotion. It had been literally years since Sandy had called out to him that way, and he figured he had to be hearing things.
He continued to stand very still, listening carefully. Nothing. Although he assumed he was simply temporarily mentally unbalanced, he decided it was best to investigate. Laying aside the plate of leftover chicken that was to be his evening meal, he headed for the front of the house.
Broad-shouldered and muscular, yet light on his feet, Wade was thoroughly appealing, from his wavy brown hair all the way to his toes and all parts in between. There was the ever-present spark of excitement in his dark, coffee-colored eyes, too. Sandy trembled in anticipation. That sexy look he was using to scan her from head to foot did the same thing to her libido every time.
His light-blue chambray shirt was unbuttoned and hung loose, its sleeves rolled up to reveal the dusting of dark hair on his forearms. Hurrying to his side, Sandy slid her arms around him beneath the loose fabric and laid her cheek on his bare chest, reveling in the warmth and maleness of his skin. “Oh, boy, am I glad to be here.”
Wade scowled down at the young woman clinging so brazenly to his seminaked torso while arguing with himself that he had to be dreaming. It took supreme effort to keep his hands hanging free at his sides. “You are?”
Smiling tenderly, she lifted her gaze to look directly into the square-jawed face she loved so much. “You bet. And stop frowning. I have a pounding headache, but I’m fine.”
“Uh, good.”
“No kidding. You should see my poor bike! I hope it’s not a total wreck. If it hadn’t been for the darned wild bunnies, everything would have been okay.”
She released him with a brief squeeze and headed down the hall. “What I need now is a nice, hot bath. I was going to take a shower, but my muscles are starting to get pretty sore so I think a soak in the tub would be best.”
Wade overcame his initial shock enough to follow her. No dream was this real. “A bath?”
“Uh-huh.”
He stopped in his tracks as Sandy entered the master bedroom without a pause. He hadn’t seen her act so loving and naturally at home in ages. As a matter of fact, he hadn’t seen her at all for about two years! Not that she looked much different. Her light-brown hair was a bit shorter and more flyaway than usual, he guessed, but those hazel eyes of hers were as dangerous to his self-control as ever. So was her body, in spite of the fact she was currently hiding it under a loose-fitting sweatshirt and jeans.
Wade knew he didn’t dare allow Sandy back into his life. Losing her the first time had been far too painful. He followed her as far as the doorway to the bedroom. “Now, wait just a minute.”
“I’d like to stop and talk, but I really am beat,” she called over her shoulder.
He watched as she lifted the sweatshirt over her head, revealing a lightweight blouse with tiny, pink roses that reminded him sadly of her penchant for the sweet-smelling blossoms.
Smiling, she motioned to him. “Come on in. Don’t be bashful. I said I had a headache, but I can still fill you in on my adventure while I get undressed. I have dried leaves and pine needles in some pretty strange places, believe me.”
Wade grabbed her hands just as she was about to pull the blouse off, as well. “Hold it, lady. I don’t know what your game is or what you’re up to, but you’re not getting undressed in my house, you got that?”
“Don’t be silly. It’s my house, too, isn’t it?”
“No.”
She giggled, her light-headedness and mental confusion making everything he said seem hysterically funny.
“You’re cute,” Sandy said, reaching up to place a conciliatory kiss on his cheek. “It isn’t my fault you didn’t want to go riding in the forest with me. You’d have loved Big Bear Lake. The temperature was much cooler up there than it is down here. No smog, either.”
His scowl deepening, Wade tightened his hold. “I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about, Sandra, but I’m not amused.”
“You would have been if you’d seen the comedy of errors that knocked me in the ditch,” she said with a chuckle. “There was this cute little redheaded boy walking an Irish setter practically big enough for him to ride. They were a matched set, kind of like he’d picked the dog because it looked like him. Anyway, I thought I could get around them on the narrow trail—only the minute that dog saw the wild rabbits, I was a goner.”
Rabbits again, Wade thought. And now dogs, too. If his ex-wife figured he was going to buy a crazy, nonsensical story like that she was mistaken. He didn’t know what her current game was, nor did he care. Not after everything that had happened in the past. All he wanted to do was get her out of his house and out of his life before he—
The dire consequences of his lascivious thoughts brought him up short. He would not allow his sweet, sexy memories of Sandy or her apparent amorousness to get in the way of what he knew he had to do. It didn’t matter whether he was strongly attracted to her physically or not, which he certainly was. That feeling was nothing new. He could handle it.
She wobbled on her feet momentarily, then righted herself with a hand on her temple. “Ooh. Good thing you’re standing there. I’m a little woozy.”
Considering her carefully and noting the paleness of her fair skin, her disheveled appearance and the jagged rip in the elbow of her discarded sweatshirt, Wade felt his resolve weaken a bit, although not enough to make him change his mind.
“You fell off your mountain bike—is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
“Of course, silly.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“No. I’ll be fine. Honest. The other folks on the trail were concerned when they saw me hit the ditch, too, but once they’d helped me get the bike back to the car I felt much better.” Rubbing her head, she noted a bump the size of a hen’s egg on her scalp and winced. “Ouch. I stopped for a soda and took a couple of aspirin on the way home, but my head still hurts like the dickens.”
“On the way home?”
“Sure.” Sandy laid her cheek against her husband’s chest and sighed. “You have no idea how good it feels to be here with you and to know you’ll take good care of me. I know I’ve always been pretty independent, but right now I could use a giant dose of your special TLC.”
Cautiously, gently, Wade threaded his fingers through her silky, naturally wavy hair, trying his best not to enjoy the tactile sensation. There was a bump all right, a good-size one, to the right of the midline a few inches back from her bangs.
Okay, he reasoned, absently smoothing her hair as he withdrew his hand. So she had had a mishap of some sort. That was no excuse for coming to him as if they were still married and acting the part of the damsel in distress. If she wanted her damn bicycle fixed she could just take it to a bike shop. As for her head, the sensible thing was to go see a doctor, and he told her so.
“I don’t need a doctor nearly as much as I need some rest,” she countered.
“You’re not supposed to go to sleep right after a head injury. When exactly did this happen?”
“Um…” Sandy was puzzled. “I’m not sure. Some of the details keep going away and coming back. There are a few hours I can’t seem to remember at all.”
“I’m calling a doctor.” Letting her go, he reached toward the telephone on the bedside table, then realized that unless he intended to dial 911, he would have to go into the den to get a phone book and look up the number of a local emergency clinic.
Sandy rubbed her eyes with her knuckles, noticing for the first time that they were skinned, too. “Do whatever you think is best, honey. I’ll be in the bathroom.”
“You can’t go in there alone,” Wade cautioned, realizing he’d opened himself up to some embarrassing suggestions the minute the words were out of his mouth.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Sandy said, her voice almost a purr. “Want to wash my back?”
“No!”
“Sure you do,” she said, gazing up at him and seeing the truth of his desire plainly evident in his expression.
“I’m just concerned about your safety,” he alibied. “What if you fall down and hit your head again?”
“There’s no problem as long as you’re there to catch me.” Taking a step backward, she sank heavily onto the foot of the bed and cradled her head in her hands. “Boy, am I beat.”
“You can’t go to sleep,” Wade insisted.
“I know. I just need to lie down and rest for a couple of minutes to get my strength back. Then I can take a bath and wash my hair, okay?”
It was not okay. None of this was. He was beginning to feel far too protective toward his injured ex, and that, in turn, was evidently affecting his physical reactions, because his body was more than ready to forget the past and step wholeheartedly into whatever trancelike world Sandy was inhabiting. He had to get rid of her before he did or said something he would be eternally sorry for.
Turning on his heel, Wade stalked out of the room to make the necessary phone call.
As soon as the clinic’s receptionist answered, Wade got right to the point. It occurred to him he might have more luck obtaining an appointment if he didn’t get too specific about his and Sandra’s current marital situation, so he simply avoided it.
“My wife has fallen off her bicycle and hit her head,” he said. “I need to bring her in right away.”
“Yes, sir. How long ago did this accident happen?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. I didn’t witness the fall.”
“I see. One moment, please. Let me connect you with Dr. Simmondson.”
Uptight about Sandy in spite of their rocky past, Wade felt the short wait for the physician was far too long. When he finally did get the doctor on the line, the man’s apparent lack of serious concern and matter-of-fact attitude were not at all comforting.
“Simmondson. How can I help you?”
“As I told the woman who answered the phone, Sandy fell off her bike.”
“I see. And who is Sandy?”
“My wife—ex-wife—oh, hell, what difference does it make? She needs to see a doctor.”
“Is she conscious?”
Wade nodded. “Yes. She drove home from the mountains by herself.”
The doctor sounded even less concerned than before. “What are her symptoms?”
“I don’t know exactly. She’s been acting crazy.”
Simmondson chuckled. “So has my ex. That doesn’t mean she needs medical attention.”
“There’s a bump on her head.”
“Where exactly?”
“On the top, to one side of the center. Why?”
“Because there are head injuries and there are head injuries. The location of the trauma can make a lot of difference in its severity. If your wife is conscious and her pupils are equal and reactive, I wouldn’t worry about her. A little disorientation is normal.”
Wade remembered looking deeply into the golden green depths of Sandy’s bewitching eyes, but he’d been so mesmerized by the experience he couldn’t be sure both her pupils had been the same size. “How do I tell for sure?”
“Shine a flashlight into her eyes and see if the pupils contract evenly. If they do and the size doesn’t become unequal later, you can let her recover on her own.”
“She wants to sleep. Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Not necessarily. Since you say she drove a car, apparently successfully, it’s my guess she’s fine. If you’re worried, just wake her up every couple of hours and check her eyes.”
Wade grimaced. Wake her every couple of hours? That sure precluded taking her home, didn’t it? “In case there is a problem later, can I reach you during the night?”
“Someone will be on call, yes. Just tell the nurse you already talked to me and I gave you instructions about what to watch for.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Wade hung up the receiver and stood there, thinking. Seeing Sandy again, especially when she so obviously needed him, was causing havoc with his usually staid emotional state, but he supposed one night of caring for her wasn’t going to kill him. He couldn’t very well deliver her to wherever she was now living and simply dump her there, could he? In her confused frame of mind there was no telling what she would do or where she might go. Besides, who would check on her physical condition during the night if not him?
Maybe she had a roommate, he thought with a surge of relief. Sure. He would call Sandy’s place, find out, and if there was someone living with her, ask the person to be waiting for them when he drove her home.
Suppose it was a man? Wade asked himself. He made a face. So what? Who cared? As long as he got her out of his house and out of his bed, it didn’t matter if she was bunking with an entire water-polo team complete with Speedo trunks and bulging muscles.
Not that he was less of a he-man than that, he reminded himself. He worked out with weights almost daily and could hold his own with practically anyone. Except Sandy, he added ruefully.
Grumbling to himself, he walked to the hall table where she had left her purse and looked in it for her wallet and driver’s license, returning to the phone as soon as he located her current address.
Ignoring his inner compulsion to abandon the quest for someone else to relieve him of the alluring woman in his bed, he dialed her home number, disgusted at himself for hoping no one would answer.
A generic answering machine message was all the response he got. He hung up and headed back to the bedroom.
Sandy had lain down just where he’d left her, clothes and all, thank goodness. She appeared to be asleep.
The first thing Wade did was slip off her shoes, then her socks. There were pine needles in the cuffs of her socks. Nevertheless, that was the end of the disrobing as far as he was concerned.
Lifting her gently, he drew her all the way onto the comforter and laid her head on a pillow, making sure she was as cozy as possible before covering her with a spare blanket.
Ready for the big California earthquake the local scientists and newspeople kept insisting was imminent, Wade kept a flashlight in the bedside table. He retrieved it and spoke softly to Sandy.
“Wake up. Come on. Open your eyes. I need to look at your pupils.”
She made a mewing sound, curled closer to him and reached out. Her eyelids fluttered, then lifted. The moment she focused on his face her lips lifted in a provocative smile. “Hi, honey. You coming to bed soon?”
Wade blushed and fidgeted in spite of the righteous indignation he was trying to nurture. “No, Sandra, I’m not. You hit your head, remember? I called the doctor and he said I should check your pupils. Open your eyes and look at this light.”
She tried. “Ooh. That hurts.”
“What does?”
“My head. My eyes.” She wiggled slightly and grimaced. “Just about every bone in my body.”
“Well, you don’t seem to have a serious injury,” he said, relieved to have seen the naturally healthy reaction of her eyes.
“Good. Then let’s cuddle.”
“Later,” he said, deciding a white lie was better than arguing with her when she was still so confused. If she recovered her senses and awoke to find him in the same bed, she was likely to have him arrested, considering the mutual animosity left over from their divorce proceedings.
Don’t think about that, he lectured silently. It’s over. Done. Nothing either of us can ever do will change that so we may as well stop wishing.
Wade watched her eyelids droop, her breathing slow and even out as sleep overtook her once again. Long, dark lashes dusted a shadow over her soft cheeks. Unbidden, Wade cupped her cheek with his hand, caressed it. There was a time when his wife had seemed like the perfect mate, the perfect woman. As he looked at her lying there, so innocent and so at peace, it was easy to forget the bad things and remember all the good.
It was also dangerous and foolhardy, he added, pulling away and getting to his feet to put more distance between them. He would allow her to spend one night, then ship her off to the hospital if she wasn’t better. With Sandy in the house it was far too easy for his heart to command his mind. He had let that happen once, with dire consequences. It wasn’t going to happen again.
