Husband for a Year

“I hired her to be the cook, but she’s also in charge of the main house.”

“I see. Do you live in the main house?”

His jaw hardened. “Yes. Provided I can find a spare cot, you’ll stay by her tonight and share her bathroom. Tomorrow morning will be soon enough to figure out what to do with you.”

Her body shifted on the seat. “Please don’t go to a lot of trouble for me. I don’t take up much room and would be h-happy to sleep anywhere,” she stammered.

He knew she wasn’t being intentionally provocative, yet the word “anywhere” disturbed him. Under normal circumstances Gabe would offer her his king-size bed and take the couch downstairs in front of the fireplace. But the way he was feeling right now, he’d probably join her before morning without her permission.

To add to his guilt, she’d come begging to him like a homeless person in need of food and shelter. For all intents and purposes she was homeless, given the terms of their contract and his desire for both of them to remain out of touch with their old lives.

Six months.

He’d decreed it himself.

“Gabe?” She said his name hesitantly.

“What is it?”

He heard her pained little gasp before she said, “I know I’m a horrible inconvenience.”

You’ve got that right.

“How do you want me to address you when we’re not alone?”

After a year of marriage the question was so ludicrous, it went beyond the absurd.

“Like you would anyone else you’d just met.”

More silence ensued, then, “Are you going to keep my identity a secret from everyone?”

With that searching question he flashed her an oblique glance. “If you’re including Clay in your question, then yes. On the drive out from the East Coast, he mentioned that he’d seen a picture of you in the Newport paper. For the time being, it might be best if you stayed in disguise.”

The troubled boys in his charge had been sent to this ranch to get away from worldly distractions. They, along with the staff, would do better not knowing that Gabe’s beautiful socialite ex-wife was on the premises.

“Of course.” Her head lowered. “He must be thrilled to have you around all the time. A boy needs his dad.” Her voice shook.

“I agree. It’s a shame Clay’s father is dead.”

CHAPTER THREE

STEFANIE was convinced she hadn’t heard him right. “But I thoug—”

“You jumped to a wrong conclusion,” he cut in on her. “Two years ago he got into serious drugs and did a lot of vandalizing. When the law caught up with him, his mother retained me. Since then I’ve been working with her to try to help him.”

For two years Gabe had been seeing Clay’s mother on a regular basis?

Any euphoria Stefanie had experienced over the news that he didn’t have a son evaporated in light of that revelation.

“Does she live in Providence?”

“That’s right. But I’ve arranged for her to fly out for regular visits.”

Another dagger to her heart. “Why didn’t she come all the way to the ranch this time?”

He sucked in his breath. “Because she wasn’t feeling well.”

“I see. Does she have other children?”

“No.”

Stefanie stifled a moan. Now that Gabe was a divorced man, he didn’t have to hide his relationship with the other woman who was closer to his age than Stefanie.

Naturally they’d been sleeping together from the outset. With Providence so close to Newport, it would explain his contentment while he’d been married to Stefanie.

The P.I. had said she was attractive.

Afraid one more question would give away her uncontrollable jealousy, Stefanie forced herself to look out the window and remain quiet for the rest of the drive to his ranch.

Clouds moved through the nighttime sky, obscuring the moon. Beyond the fences that lined the road, all she could make out were fields of snow and pines. The scene looked lonely and desolate.

More than ever she wondered why Gabe had turned his back on his former life. Something earthshaking must have driven him to leave, but why come all the way out to this inhospitable place? How did he even find it?

No doubt he was hoping Clay’s mother would like it. Even if she didn’t, she would never let him know. No woman fortunate enough to be loved by Gabe would consider letting him go.

Was it her maturity and experience, her worldliness that had kept him interested all this time?

Stefanie had never slept with a man so she could hardly compete. By the time she’d reached the age where kissing boys helped her understand the meaning of physical desire, she’d met Gabe out sailing.

Of course he’d only looked upon her as one of the teenage girls in her flirtatious group of friends. But for Stefanie, those hours she spent as a guest on the Wainwright yacht had proved to be the defining moment of her life.