Wife By Contract. Raye Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ her coming back into the kitchen.

      “They’re down for their naps,” she said simply, giving him a quick smile. “We can talk.”

      “Nice work,” he said, complimenting her, his head tilted to the side as he looked her over. Nice work, he repeated silently to himself, but this time his comment was related to the state the woman was in herself. She still looked crisp and efficient in her blouse and skirt, but her hair had come undone just enough to leave wisps flying about her face in a very fetching way. She was one attractive woman.

      “Shall we sit?” he offered, gesturing toward the chairs at the table.

      She nodded and preceded him, glancing up in surprise when he helped her with her chair.

      He took his place opposite her and narrowed his gaze, ready to lay down the law as he saw it.

      “Let me see if I have this straight,” he began. “You put yourself in a catalog for men who want mail-order brides. Greg answered, selected you and sent you money to come to Alaska. You brought along two kids you hadn’t told him about, hoping he would take them as part of the bargain. But Greg wasn’t here when you arrived. Is that about it?”

      She stared at him for a moment, wondering how long he was going to try to keep up this pretense that he wasn’t Greg. She was sure he was going to try to use it as an excuse to get out of their contract. He’d taken one look at the kids and panicked. That had to be it. Now he wanted to get rid of her so he could order himself up another woman, someone who would come unencumbered with little ones.

      Well, she understood his angle. She’d been afraid something like this might happen. But she wasn’t going to give up quite that easily. What she needed was time...time for him to get to know the children, time for him to get to know her and what kind of person she was. Once that happened, surely she would be able to talk him into taking them as a set. All she needed was time.

      “That’s about it,” she said evenly. Leaning forward on her elbows, she decided to let him have his game without protest at this point. “The only part you left out was how committed I am to making this work out for all of us.”

      He gazed into her dark eyes and found only sincerity, but he couldn’t hide his smile of skepticism.

      “Hey,” he said softly. “I didn’t just fall off the turnip truck, you know. This doesn’t make any sense, and you know it.”

      She raised one delicately molded eyebrow. “Do I?”

      His short laugh said it all. “Sure. Look, Chynna, you’re a beautiful woman. I can’t believe you’ve ever had any problem getting a man.” He turned his hand palm up on the table. “What would a woman like you need to resort to these measures for?”

      For the first time, her gaze wavered. “I never claimed I had problems getting men,” she retorted stiffly.

      He shrugged as though that proved his case. “Then why did you do it? Why did you make this contract with my brother?”

      She hesitated, her eyes cloudy. “I have my reasons,” she said at last. “I’ll explain it all to you at some point. But I’m not quite ready to open up on every private hope and dream I have. Not yet.”

      His mouth twisted as he studied her. “Why didn’t you tell Greg about the kids?” he asked.

      She wet her upper lip with a quick slip of her tongue. “I knew what your first reaction would be,” she said simply. “I wanted you to get to know them before you turned them down.”

      “I’m not Greg,” he said automatically, but he wasn’t really thinking about that. He stared at her. Nothing she said added up. There had to be something else going on here. But what?

      “Sorry. ‘Joe,’ isn’t it?” she amended, rolling her eyes only slightly but letting the tone of her voice emphasize the way she felt about this masquerade she thought he was playing.

      “‘Joe’ it is,” he stated flatly. “Always has been and always will be. And Greg...” He hesitated, then leaned forward, determined to get this cleared up and out in the open once and for all. “Listen, Greg is my brother. I know him well. And believe me, he’s not husband material in any sense of the word.”

      She lifted her chin and met his gaze steadily. She had to admit, she liked what she saw. His face was tan, with grooves where dimples had probably once been, and tiny laugh lines around his eyes. From what she’d seen so far, she would say he was a very nice guy, and one who seemed to see the humor in most things. A man like that should be ready to love children. Why wasn’t it happening?

      “Not husband material?” she repeated. “I see. What’s wrong with him?”

      He shrugged, feeling uncomfortable to be spilling family secrets. But in this case, he didn’t see any alternative. “It’s not that there is anything wrong with him, per se. It’s just that he’s...” He narrowed his eyes, trying to think of the right words. “He’s a real Alaska guy, you know what I mean? If this were ninety years ago, he’d be digging for gold in the mountains. If this were a hundred and fifty years ago, he’d be living off the land, tromping around in snowshoes and only coming down to civilization once a year for supplies. This is not a man who is set up, either psychologically or emotionally, to take care of a family.”

      “Oh?” She narrowed her eyes, too, staring right back at him. “Then why did he pick me? Why did he send me the money to come join him?” She picked up the envelope that was lying on the table between them and pulled out the photograph, dangling it from her fingers. “Why did he send me this picture of himself? And why did he say the things he did?” She shrugged delicately. “Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think you do,” she suggested.

      He frowned, watching her wave the picture around and feeling like punching his brother in the nose once he found him again. This would have been a lot simpler if Greg had sent a picture of himself instead of using Joe as bait. “I can’t really explain why he did those things,” he said shortly. “Maybe he was playing around with a dream and then got cold feet when it looked as though it might actually come true.”

      She snapped the photo back into the envelope. “Yes, that’s the thing, isn’t it?” she said sweetly. “This has come true. Here we are. So let’s make the best of it.” She rose, starting toward the kitchen sink, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm.

      “Listen, you don’t seem to get it. I think you should pack up your kids and get while the getting’s good. Leave. Take a plane and head out. Go back to where you came from.”

      Staring down at him, she slowly shook her head. “The pilot of the little plane that brought us from Anchorage said he wouldn’t be back this way for four days,” she noted. “We can’t leave, even if we wanted to.”

      He swallowed hard. This was a reminder of what it was like to live out in the boonies. That just showed how quickly one could get used to modern life in a big city, where every convenience was at beck and call at any moment of the day or night.

      “Oh,” he said, letting his hand drop. “Well, I suppose I could drive you to Anchorage.”

      The lack of enthusiasm for that idea was evident in his voice, and she smiled suddenly, shaking her head again. “Don’t bother,” she said crisply, turning back toward the sink. “We’ll stay. You need us.”

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