Wife by Wednesday (9 page)

“All right. I’ll see you in the morning.”

His finger tapped along his phone after he hung up. The image of Samantha curled up in a tight little ball on his bed, her eyes wide with fear, choked him. His fingers clutched hard against his palms. Whoever did this had made a huge, costly mistake. He would crush the person who violated his wife’s privacy on this level. Paparazzi on public streets, eavesdropping while standing in line at a store, fine, but this? What if there was a camera in her bedroom? What if someone watched her dress, watched her bathe?

No wonder she sounded scared.

The more he thought about it, the harder it was to see anything but red.

****

Half memory, half dream, Samantha’s sleep-filled brain filtered images of her walking through campus, a backpack slung over her shoulder.

Someone followed behind her. She’d seen him before, but couldn’t place his face. The panic in her blood started after she’d revealed her deepest thoughts to her business professor.

In the back of Samantha’s mind, she knew she was dreaming. Knew where the dream was headed and tried desperately to stop it.

A picture of her childhood bedroom flashed in her mind. A candid conversation with a trusted friend. Her mother, alive, telling her to mind her mouth.

Jordan, just into her training bra, laughing at something their dog, Buster, was doing.

All these images mixed and coiled tight in Samantha’s chest.

Two men wearing dark suits and holding a badge removed her from her classroom and questioned her. Only instead of asking about where her father was, what he was doing, they asked about Blake.

“What he’s doing is illegal, Samantha. Thousands of people suffer because of him.”

No! She fought the dream, willing the images to change.

They pressed forward and fear gripped her heart.

Samantha shot up in bed, her breathing rapid and her heart rate soaring. In a flash, Blake pushed out of the chair he’d been sleeping in and rushed to her side.

“Sam, are you okay?” His hands captured her arms to steady her.

Forcing her breath to slow, she nodded. “Bad dream.”

“You’re shaking.” The words left his mouth and his arms circled around her and pulled her into his chest.

She probably should have pushed away, but couldn’t find the energy. She sucked in the deep pine scent of masculinity that always followed Blake around. This close it was more potent, powerful. Samantha leaned into him and closed her eyes.

He ran his hands over her back, and smoothed her hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered.

The force of her dream left an imprint on her heart. The memories of her mother alive, her sister whole. All gone.

It was her fault.

Blake held her for what felt like forever. When she lifted her head from his chest, she noticed for the first time he still wore a dress shirt and slacks. His jaw held a day’s worth of stubble and his eyes were heavy with concern. Always sinfully handsome, he still looked tired.

“I’m okay now,” she told him.

Even though he moved back, he didn’t let go. His hands traced the outer edges of her arms before grasping her fingers to his.

A strong sense of being anchored, of belonging, washed over her. Blake’s eyes rounded over her face as if searching for physical signs of abuse. His worry for her caught in her throat and the attraction she’d felt for him swelled inside. As vulnerable as she felt, she knew better than to flirt with him or bring to his attention that she was in his bed and wearing only a light nightgown.

Breaking eye contact, Samantha glanced across the room. “You were sleeping in the chair?”

“I only meant to check on you. I must have drifted off.”

But his shoes had been kicked off by the chair, his coat folded over the back of it.

“What are we going to do? Someone is taking desperate measures to catch us in this lie.”

“They took it too far.” His hand tightened on hers.

She squeezed back. “So what do we do now? Leaving the house will only push whoever is behind this away for so long. The Fed’s cased our house for over a year while building their case. We’ve no way of knowing if someone is watching, listening, all the time.” The thought of dodging cameras and bugs on phones for a year gave her a headache.

“I’ll find out who did this. It’s still illegal to penetrate someone’s home and record them.”

“It might be illegal, but it won’t stop them. We need to convince them they’re wasting their time. Otherwise, somewhere, somehow, one of us is going to mess up and reveal just how temporary this marriage is. Then you’ll lose everything you stand to gain and it will somehow be my fault.”

His eyes narrowed and he tilted his head in question. “Why your fault? We both said ‘I do’ for the wrong reasons.”

Afraid he’d see her past sins in her eyes, Samantha removed her hands from his and pulled her knees into her chest. Staring at the opposite side of the room, she said, “Maybe it won’t be all my fault…”

Blake shifted into her line of sight and placed a hand on her knee. The heat of his palm radiated up her leg and snapped her attention to the man sitting beside her. “Now that we know how dirty we’re being played, we need to win on their terms. We’ll use their cameras to show them how wrong they are about us.”

“How do you suggest we do that?”

A tilt of his lips hid a grin. The worry in his eyes started to fade. “You and I’ll go to your house and pack your things. Before we get there I’ll send over a team to find any other cameras that might be hiding.”

“Won’t that be obvious?”

“Was it obvious when whoever planted them did it?”

She’d wondered about that all night. The phone repair guys were the only ones in her house since she and Blake married. “No.”

“We’ll find the cameras and play to them.”

Her pulse picked up speed. “Play to them?”

Blake reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. The feel of his fingers on her skin sizzled. He felt the current too; she could see it in his beautiful grey eyes. “Would it be so hard to kiss me again? For the camera?”

She licked her lips and watched his as he spoke.

“A kiss?”

His palm cupped her cheek. “Maybe some heavy petting. There has to be a room void of cameras that we can escape to… let the person watching wonder.”

Oh, she wondered. Wondered what it would feel like in his arms. She’d thought of kissing him again ever since their wedding day.

“What would that prove?” she asked, ignoring how his thumb stroked her cheek and brought erotic images of his hands on other parts of her body.

“It would prove we’re intimate, that we enjoy each other outside of the public eye. As long as they think we’re oblivious of their surveillance, it should work. What do you say, Samantha? Are you up for the challenge?”

She stopped staring at his lips and found him staring at her. He already knew how to get her riled and ready for a fight. “I’m up for it.”

His grin turned into a huge smile. “Atta girl. Now, why don’t you have the cook make you breakfast while I try to catch a couple hours sleep. Then we’ll take a trip to your place. That should give my men the time they need to find all the bugs.”

He dropped his hand to his side and pushed off the bed.

“Blake? What about tomorrow? The next day? How are we going to keep this up for a year?”

“One day at a time, sweetheart. We’re two intelligent people with the same goal. We’ll figure something out.”

There were cameras in her living room, kitchen, and both bedrooms. They knew about the phone line already. According to Blake’s men, her car was clean.

But dammit! Someone had watched her dress, watched her sleep. Samantha revealed to Blake the conversation she’d had with Eliza, the only one that might hold a hint of their deceptive marriage. The cameras were most likely planted by the guys posing as telephone repairmen. Or perhaps someone had snuck in while she’d been out jogging.

After that, the conversations were on her cell phone and usually when she was out. Not that it mattered, they’d only talked about the reception and the people she’d meet. Admittedly, they talked like an old married couple, which was surprising considering they hardly knew each other.

Blake drove the town car with Sam guiding the way to her house.

As the townhome drew closer, the reality of what they were doing spread worry throughout her limbs.

“You’re wringing your hands together,” Blake told her. “What’s wrong?”

“Honest answer?” she asked him, knowing what he’d say.

“Always.”

“Kissing you.”

He snuck a glance behind his glasses and returned his eyes to the road. “Kissing me is wrong?”

“Yes,” she blurted out. “I mean, no.”

He chuckled. “Which is it?”

“Ugh. What if I choke? What if I don’t look convincing?” What if she screwed up and gave the camera exactly what they wanted and Blake lost his inheritance?

Blake removed one hand from the steering wheel and placed it over her cold ones. “Samantha?”

“Yes.”

“Relax. Let me take charge here.”

She shook her head. “I’m not used to men taking charge in my life.”

“I know that. But you can trust me.”

She wanted to trust him. But her hands shook as they pulled into her driveway. He removed the key from the ignition and shifted in his seat. “Let’s just go inside and start packing.”

“Are you going to kiss me the minute we’re inside?” God, she had to know… so she could prepare herself.

Blake leaned forward and removed his sunglasses. “Come here,” he whispered, staring at her lips.

She inched forward, thinking he wanted to whisper something important.

Instead, he leaned over the seat and placed his lips softly on hers. The heat was instant and sizzled all the way to her toes. Her eyes fluttered shut as she eased into his kiss. Then he moved away. “Kissing will be the easy part,” he said over her opened lips. “Pulling back will prove much harder.”

Blake bushed his thumb over her lower lip before turning and opening his door.

Samantha stepped on wobbly legs and allowed Blake to hold her arm for support.

He glanced up and down the block with an obviously disapproving glare. “This neighborhood doesn’t feel safe to me. How long have you lived here?”

“Two years,” she told him as she placed her key in the lock and opened the door.

They stepped inside the foyer and Samantha placed her purse on the table. “I have some boxes in a shed out back.”

“I’ll get the ones from the car.”

As they went in opposite directions, Samantha found her eyes traveling to the camera she knew was hidden in her bookcase. Walking by it, she headed out through her kitchen to the shed and came back with several dusty cardboard boxes in various sizes. She dumped them on the coffee table and glanced around the room.

Blake brought a half dozen boxes still folded up and a roll of packing tape.

“Why don’t we use those for my clothes since they’re clean,” she suggested.

“Okay,” he said glancing up the stairwell.

Samantha led the way to her bedroom and had Blake dump the boxes on her bed. He picked them up one by one and tucked their edges together. After a little tape, the boxes were ready to go.

“Where do you want me to start?” Blake asked.

“In the closet.”

After several minutes of packing, Samantha forgot all about the cameras and found her head deep inside her dresser. She grabbed a simple band and tied her hair back out of the way.

“Should I be worried about all these shoes in here?” Blake asked from her closet.

She laughed. “You’re the one who told me to go shopping,” she teased.

“Looks like I’ll be hiring a handyman to build another walk-in just for you.” There was laughter in his voice.

“Women love clothes.”

“And shoes, apparently. God, I didn’t think anyone needed this many.”

Samantha tucked her panties into a box and reached for more. “I’m short, in case you haven’t noticed. I need heels to see how the rest of you live.”

Blake’s voice moved closer. “You’re not short,” he said.

She turned to see him holding a pair of four-inch pumps.

“Vertically challenged, then.” She stood to prove her point. “See?” Beside him, the top of her head met his chin. “Short!”

His eyes seemed to drag her into his frame. “I wouldn’t change anything about you,” he told her. Blake reached out and tugged the band from her hair. His fingers brushed over the ends and Samantha forgot to breathe. The closer he moved into her personal space, the less air was available for her lungs. She tilted her head as he moved in and allowed his mouth to move over hers. Blake’s hand dropped the shoes and wrapped around her waist, holding her close.