The Secret Wife (2 page)

“You win.” He moved into the room. “Three months.” He fixed his gaze on Millie, but his words were for Elissa. “But if she makes one mistake, breaks one rule, she’s out of here.”

“Agreed,” Millie said. “Come on, Elissa, let me show you around.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cole told his assistant. “It’s getting late. Why don’t you head out and I’ll show Elissa to her quarters?”

Millie’s gaze narrowed. “Can you be trusted?”

“No,” he said curtly. “But I won’t hurt her.”

“Or fire her?”

“That either.”

At least not until he found out why she was back.

Millie turned to Elissa. “Is this all right with you? I’d insist on showing you around myself but I have a committee meeting for the art auction and—” She glanced at her watch, then shook her head. “He’s really not so bad once you get to know him.” She laughed. “Look who I’m telling. Of course you know that. Okay, kids, have fun. I’ll be back tomorrow at the regular time.”

She returned to her desk, pulled out a drawer and picked up a small handbag. “The application is filled out. We can do all those pesky government forms in the morning. Night.”

With that, she sailed out of the room. Elissa looked a little shell-shocked. Cole was more used to Millie’s ways. He knew when Millie was actually running late and when she was ducking out to avoid trouble. It wasn’t tough to guess which she was doing this afternoon. He couldn’t blame her. If he had an excuse, he would cut out, too.

“Have a seat,” he said when they were alone.

As Elissa sank into the visitor’s chair, he settled on a corner of the desk and stared at her. Stunned didn’t begin to describe what he felt right now. His whole world had shifted, as if gravity had suddenly started working the other way, making things adhere to the ceiling instead of the floor.

He searched his heart, probing at emotions, trying to figure out what he was feeling. There was anger, a little disbelief, equal measures of desire for Elissa and disgust with himself. Maybe when the shock wore off he would feel more. Right now the dominant emotion was curiosity. Why had she come back? What did she want?

He answered that question himself, not wanting to think it was the truth, but knowing it must be. They could avoid the issue for days, or he could bring it out in the open right now.

“Are you here about a divorce?” he asked, telling himself he didn’t care about the answer.

Her eyes widened. “No. I really just wanted the job.”

The relief was instant, and annoying. He ignored it. “I don’t believe you.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to.” Her gaze slid away from his. “Do you want a divorce?”

Yes, his mind answered forcefully. Of course he did. They’d continued their farce of a marriage for far too long. It didn’t make sense to stay connected legally when there was nothing between them emotionally or physically.

“That’s not the point.” He waited for her to call him on his evasive answer, but she didn’t. Instead she studied the toes of her shoes as if they were fascinating. Her fingers twisted together on her lap and she shifted in her seat. Thank God he wasn’t the only one feeling uneasy.

“You need to tell me—”

“I just wanted—”

They spoke at the same time. “Go ahead,” he said.

She nodded. A loose curl jumped with the movement, caressing the back of her bare neck. Without wanting to, he remembered the feel of her skin against his fingers and his mouth. He recalled the taste of her, sweet and cool on the surface, hot and tempting just below.

Long-checked passion roared to life, searing him, leaving him nearly doubled over in pain and angling away from her so that she wouldn’t see the instantaneous physical manifestation.

“I just want to let you know I didn’t come here to cause trouble,” she assured him, her voice low and quiet. “It’s been a long time, Cole. Once, we meant something to each other. Now you ask me if I want a divorce and I can honestly answer that I don’t know. I suppose I’m looking for closure. I thought spending some time together would allow me to do that.”

She glanced up at him. Sincerity darkened her eyes to the color of summer grass. He didn’t want to believe a word she said, yet she’d never been much of a liar. “There have been some changes in my life,” she continued. “I don’t want to work in an office forever. I’ve been thinking about going back to college and finishing my degree. Working here for a few months gives me the best of both worlds. I can get involved with some work that really makes a difference, and I have a chance to regroup.”

Emotions shifted inside him, anger taking dominance over curiosity. She talked of recent changes in her life. He knew what that meant. A man.

The fact that neither of them had contacted the other in over four years didn’t matter. The fact that he’d considered dating, had even thought about a divorce, was unimportant. Assumed betrayal fed rage.

“You played at your supposed acting career while you were growing up,” he growled. “You played at being a wife, now you want to play at Lady Bountiful. We don’t need you here. Get out!”

“No.” Her low, calm voice was a contrast to his heated tones. She relaxed in her chair as if his outburst had eased her nervousness. “You agreed to let me work here for three months. You’re many things, Cole Stephenson, but you’re not a man who goes back on his word.”

“If you’re looking for a reconciliation—”

“I don’t know what I’m looking for,” she interrupted. “If you’re so angry, why didn’t you divorce me? You don’t have an answer, do you? We were both young and we made a lot of mistakes.”

“You walked out on me.”

“You left first.”

The unfair accusation drove him to his feet. “What the hell are you talking about? I never left you.”

She leaned toward him. “You left me every day when you ate, slept and breathed work. I didn’t exist for you except as a hostess and maid.”

He noticed she didn’t say bed partner. Just as well. In the end— He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about any of it.

“Justify your actions any way you like,” he said. “The bottom line is, I came home from work one day and you were gone.”

He still remembered the shock of the quiet, the few words on the note, the stark emptiness of her half of the closet. She’d disappeared so completely, it was as if she’d never been there at all.

Elissa stood and looked at him. Late-afternoon light illuminated her pale skin. The last vestiges of childhood were gone, leaving her face hauntingly beautiful. He’d dreamed of her every night for a year, waking up aroused and alone. Then he’d forced himself to forget her. He’d nearly succeeded, too. He’d learned to live with the perpetual emptiness.

And now she was back.

“I’ll accept half the blame,” she said. “Maybe a little more. But not all of it.”

“I’m not interested in reliving the past.”

“Me, either.” She gave him a faint smile. “Don’t you want a chance to put it all behind you? We used to be friends. Maybe we could be again.”

Yesterday if anyone had asked, he would have sworn his brief marriage was in the past. That he’d forgotten all about her. Now he wasn’t so sure.

“We can’t have changed that much,” she said. “Look where we ended up. Right back where we started. At the orphanage.”

She had changed. She’d learned to stand up for herself. Five years ago his anger would have sent her sobbing to the bedroom. Afterward, she wouldn’t have been able to look him in the eye for a week.

But despite the changes, he couldn’t do what she wanted. He couldn’t be friends. He’d never been her friend. He’d despised her until he’d known her, and then he’d loved her. In the past few years he’d grown to hate her. There was no middle ground.

“Three months,” he said at last. “That’s what I agreed to. Millie will explain your responsibilities. She’s your boss, not me. Our first priority is the children. I don’t want them confused or hurt. Therefore, as far as they’re concerned, you’re just Elissa Bedford. They don’t have to know we’re married.”

She squared her shoulders. “If that’s how you want it. I meant what I said, Cole. I want answers, but I’m not here to make trouble.”

“Too late. You already have. And while we’re reaffirming ourselves, let me remind you you’re here on probation. One screwup, one false move and you’re out. I wouldn’t want to have to make this place work without Millie, but if that’s my only option, I’m willing to risk it.”

“Fine.”

He forced himself to walk toward the door. “Your quarters are downstairs in the main building. Third door on the right. I’m sure you can find it yourself. Do you need help with your luggage?”

“I can manage.”

“Good. Dinner is at five-thirty. Don’t be late.”

He made it into the hallway before she called him back. “Cole?”

He paused, but didn’t turn toward her. “What?”

“Can’t we try to be friends?”

He heard the plea in her voice, the tone that told him she didn’t think her request was so awful. He thought about the weeks he’d tried to drink himself into forgetfulness, the endless nights he’d spent staring at the few pictures he had of her, tracing the flat, cold paper, wondering what he’d done that had made her leave. He recalled the gaping hole in his chest, the one left after she’d ripped out his heart.

He who had sworn never to love, never to trust, had loved and trusted only one. Elissa. And she had left him.

“No,” he said quietly. “We can’t be friends.”

Chapter Two

E
lissa placed her suitcase on the bed and glanced around the room. Even though she’d visited the orphanage several times in the past and knew better, she’d assumed her living quarters would consist of a narrow bed covered by a clean but worn bedspread, a single nightstand and maybe a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Obviously she’d been watching too many productions on Masterpiece Theatre. She might be the most recent resident at the Grace Orphanage, but this was the 1990s, not the 1890s, and she was a new employee, not a newly orphaned Sara Crewe.

She actually had two rooms, including a small but pleasant living area complete with a sofa, wing-back chair and a window that overlooked the rosé garden. Her bedroom was spacious and airy, with light walls and drapes. A pale blue comforter covered the double bed. There was an oak dresser, two nightstands and a reading lamp. One door led to a good-sized closet, the other to a small private bath.

“I like it,” she said aloud, then glanced at her suitcase. She’d left most of her belongings back in her apartment in Los Angeles. The odds of Cole actually letting her stay had been so remote, she hadn’t bothered to pack much. “Rather bring too little than cart it all back.”

The homey wisdom made her feel better. Although right now, it wouldn’t take much. She opened the suitcase and pulled out the three dresses folded on top. After shaking them out, she walked over to the closet and hung them up.

As she smoothed the soft cotton fabric, she tried to tell herself it hadn’t been so bad after all. At least he hadn’t thrown her out.

But he hadn’t wanted her here, either.

Elissa sighed and closed her eyes. Why was she surprised? In all the time they’d been apart, he’d never once tried to contact her, had never once tried to reconcile. The fact that he also hadn’t bothered to ask for a divorce was a small comfort.

Maybe he’d forgotten all about her. Maybe coming back would remind him and he would want to end the marriage as quickly as possible.

That thought sent a flash of pain through her. Her breath lodged in her throat and she had to force herself to inhale slowly until the discomfort eased. She opened her eyes and squared her shoulders. For now, she was here. Unless something horrible happened, she had three months to figure out what she wanted from her life and from her husband. They’d kept things on hold for too long. One way or the other, by the time she left, she was going to have made a decision.

“You are,” she told herself as she continued unpacking, “quite insane. Fallon and Kayla would be happy to tell you so.”

She smiled at the thought of her sisters. Both women had tried to talk her out of her plan to show up unannounced at the orphanage. They’d felt Cole would react better if he’d had some time to get used to the idea of seeing her again. What she hadn’t explained—mostly because it was just too humiliating to admit—was the fact that if he was given notice, he might refuse to see her altogether. At least by arriving without warning, she had surprise on her side.

“You look nice. Millie must have hired you. Cole usually hires people who don’t smile much.”

Elissa turned toward the sound of the voice. A tall, slender girl stood in the doorway to her bedroom.

“I’m Tiffany,” the girl said, and grinned. “I knocked but you didn’t hear me.” The grin faded. “Do you want me to go away?”

“Of course not.” Elissa walked toward her. “I’m Elissa Bedford, and you’re right. Millie did hire me.”

“We can always tell.” Tiffany was nearly as tall as Elissa’s five feet five inches, with long, curly dark hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. Cafe-au-lait skin emphasized high cheekbones. A wide, mobile mouth curved up.

“I’m twelve,” the preteen announced. “I’ll be thirteen in less than four months. I’m a Christmas baby.” Tiffany leaned against the door frame. She wore white shorts and a peach T-shirt. She had long arms and legs, smooth with a hint of muscle moving under perfect skin. She was already beautiful. In a couple of years Tiffany was going to cause traffic accidents just by walking down the street.

“Gee, my birthday’s about as far from Christmas as you can get,” Elissa said. “It’s July first.”

“Being a Christmas baby is special, of course, but I’d rather be born in the summer. At least then you get presents twice a year.” The girl walked to the bed and sat down. Brown eyes fixed on Elissa’s face. “I’m not really an orphan. My mother’s a junkie. She’s tried to kick it, but she can’t. This is a more healthy environment for me. While I’d like her to straighten out, it’s not likely. I’m dealing with that. Everyone thinks because I’m really smart and mature enough to understand I’m going to be a psychologist.” She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think so. I’d prefer one of the hard sciences. Where things are concrete. You know, like quantum physics.”