Wife by Wednesday
"It didn't feel right."
"But it does now? What's changed?" Eliza flopped down on an overstuffed sofa and crossed her legs.
Samantha lowered her voice even though the cook was busy preparing their lunch and the maid was upstairs doing god-knows-what. Blake needed to spend the day in his office, which left Sam with little to do. "We're getting more comfortable together, I guess. The security here isn't something I could manage in Tarzana."
"You got that right. That Neil guy is kinda scary if you ask me." Eliza walked around the bulky man when he met her at her car.
"He doesn't say much."
"He didn't say anything to me. Just stared at me."
"Blake insists he's harmless to those who aren't messing with him." Samantha found herself in one of the Queen Anne chairs facing her friend. The soft silk pantsuit she wore drifted over her skin and made her feel like she wasn't wearing anything at all. With the extra time on her hands, Sam took more time getting dressed in the morning, more time preening for her day.
When Blake joined her at Moonlight, Samantha was faced with the full force of her marriage to a man as rich and handsome as her husband. He charmed the staff and won more than a few smiles from Jordan. Ever since Jordan's stroke, her ability to express her needs had been difficult. Expressive aphasia was what the doctors called her condition. Sam often finished Jordan's sentences to keep her sister from being overly anxious and frustrated. Blake seemed to understand the situation and worked hard to ask yes and no questions and avoid subjects that would bring on stress.
Yet when they were working their way out of the home, Blake found an administrator and like a switch, his charm turned off and the business side of him shone through. He wanted to know about security in the home. How did they keep Jordan safe from strangers walking into her room? Who was by her side when it wasn't mealtime? A rapid stream of question he could have asked Samantha were fired off and answered before she could interrupt. His sincerity over her sister's care and safety kept Sam from being upset with him. Yet after they'd left the home he started to question Moonlight's ability to care for Jordan, and Samantha became defensive.
"It's the best home for people in Jordan's situation. Most homes are geared for older, Alzheimer's-type patients. Moonlight specializes in younger patients with developmental problems."
"Why not care for her at home?"
Of course, that would have been ideal, but Samantha couldn't afford that kind of round the clock, in-home care. She'd tried to do it on her own but failed. Blake had realized how upset the conversation was making her and had dropped the subject.
"I'm glad Neil is on your side. I wouldn't want to be that man's enemy," Eliza said, snapping Samantha out of her thoughts. "So, what are we going to do with Alliance?"
She'd given a lot of thought as to how to proceed with her business. The fact was, taking on the role of being Blake Harrison's wife was going to take up the majority of her time and leave her jet setting all over the globe. As it was, her passport had arrived first thing that Monday morning and she and Blake were arranging their departure for early Wednesday.
"I have a proposition for you." She waited until Eliza turned her eyes to her before starting. "I've worked too hard to lose everything I've worked for with Alliance, but I'm obviously going to be unavailable over the next few months."
"I thought you guys were going to live on different continents."
Sam shook her head. "Our original plan isn't going to work like we'd hoped. In light of the bugs and surveillance cameras, we think it's best to stay close to each other." Samantha's mind shifted to Blake's proposal. He hadn't pushed her to sleep with him since their time in her bathroom, but he'd sent her several heated glances and sexy comments to let her know he still wanted her in his bed. As it was, Samantha slept in the room beside her husband's and they told the staff that she wasn't feeling well. The excuse was lame, but no one commented about it.
"Where does that leave Alliance?"
"What would you say to coming in as my partner?"
Eliza's eyes widened and a smile formed on her lips. "What would that look like?"
"I'd need you to do some of the field work." They both knew that meant Eliza would need to attend gatherings where women searched for rich husbands, high profile events where those with money played. Socializing was the best way of gathering prospective clients. Word of mouth worked better than any ad in the paper. "Karen already agreed to introduce you to some of her old friends to set you up."
"Karen is the one who runs Moonlight, right?"
The knockout gorgeous blonde who Blake didn't look at twice. Sam nodded. "When you have a new contact, fax the information to me and I'll start the background on them. I can initiate that anywhere in the world. What I can't do is meet with people until my time becomes my own again."
"When do you expect that?"
"A few months. Maybe sooner."
Eliza seemed to juggle the new prospect in her mind. "I guess it would be bad form to be talking about temporary marriages after your Vegas wedding to Blake. People might ask questions."
"It wouldn't look good. I'll place things in your name so it looks like I'm your employee." Because any lawyer worth a damn would figure it out otherwise.
"You'd do that?"
"I trust you. And when I offered a partnership, I meant it. If things become too difficult for you when I'm away, we'll hire a temporary secretary. If things pick up, we'll hire a full time one. We'll split the profits down the middle and while I'm playing Duchess, I'll pay for the expenses."
Eliza's eyes lit up. "As in fancy dresses and dinners with clients?"
Samantha laughed. "I'm sure we can come up with a reasonable budget."
"I'm not sure what to say?"
"Say yes."
"But this is your baby. You've worked hard and I'm new on the scene."
Uncrossing her legs, Sam sat forward and placed a hand over her friend's. "You helped me when times were hard and never bitched when money was tight."
"You offered me a room at your house. Kinda hard to bitch when you let me live with you for nothing."
Sam waved her off. "I may have started this business, but it's taken both of us to get it where it is today. I don't trust anyone else but you, Eliza."
The slow movement of Eliza's head ended in a full nod and a smile. "How can a girl say no to that?"
"Good."
"Mrs. Harrison?" the cook called from the entryway to the living room.
"Yes, Mary?"
"Your lunch is ready. Would you like it in here, or should I leave it in the dining room?"
Eliza's sly smile told Samantha how impressed she was. "We'll take it in there. I hope you'll join us."
Mary's eyes widened in alarm. "Oh, no, I couldn't do that."
Samantha and Eliza both stood and walked toward Mary. "Oh, yes, you can," Sam laughed as she spoke. "I don't expect you to cook lunch then eat alone."
"But – "
"Besides, Blake's birthday is in less than a week and to tell you the truth, I've absolutely no idea what to buy him. Maybe you can help."
Mary's mouth rounded to a perfect 'O'. She stopped arguing and followed Sam and her new business partner into the dining room.
Halfway through their meal, Samantha realized how quickly she'd fallen back into the role of a woman with money. She stalled as she ate, and remembered how quickly it could all collapse.
In her situation, she knew it would. Hers and Blake's was a temporary arrangement, with a definite beginning and a specific end. She'd have to lock those thoughts away for another year, or risk exposing her short-term marriage to anyone who looked.
And in order to lock it away, she needed to start acting like a married woman, she mused.
A happily married woman.
****
Blake drove through the gates of his Malibu estate two hours past the time he'd told Samantha he'd be home. With the upset in the Middle East, a few of his shipping routes needed to be diverted to avoid the international turmoil. It would have been easier handling the current crisis in his company if he'd been in Europe, but Blake had grown used to shuffling things between both Continents. Now with Samantha in his life, he had an even better reason to filter more of his work to the States.
When he'd called her at five thirty to tell her he'd be late, she'd sounded disappointed. That disappointment prompted him to move faster so he could manage a little time with her before she retired for the evening. He had a genuine desire to get to know Samantha better.
There weren't any games with his wife. Blatant honesty, right down to the 'I want to sleep with you' words, were refreshing.
The memory of her shedding her shirt and kicking off her jeans left him hard every time he thought about it. The urge to have his wife in his bed and begging for his touch was strong. Blake had promised to give her time to think about his offer but that didn't mean he wouldn't try seduction to get what he wanted. Hell, she wanted him, too. He saw it in her sideway glances when she didn't think he watched, in the way she licked her lips while staring at his.
Blake purposely avoided kissing her since she'd moved in. Yet every touch, every time he helped her out of a car, or placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her though a door, was torture.
He couldn't wait to explore their volatile attraction and see just how high it would explode.
Walking inside his home, Blake had a strong urge to yell, 'Hi, honey, I'm home.' He smiled at the thought and walked through the quiet halls until the soft glow of candlelight caught his attention from the dining room.
Samantha sat at the table wearing a delicate ruby silk dress and a smile. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in a soft curtain. Her eyes sparkled as she watched him walk into the room.
The smell of succulent beef met his nose and reminded him that he hadn't eaten since noon.
Samantha lifted a glass of red wine and rose from her seat before walking toward him.
"What's all this?" he asked as his gaze followed the slim lines of her figure. Her breasts pushed up against the neckline of her dress, exposing her creamy flesh. Her legs, the ones she always complained were too short, peeked through the slit of her dress and fell to four-inch heels that did amazing things to her calves. He liked women's shoes, he decided. A second closet was a small price to pay for the sexy view.
"I thought it would be nice to dine alone while we could. Your home in Europe sounds very… full."
Blake took the glass she offered and listened for the sounds of Mary in the kitchen or Louisa in the hall. He didn't hear anything other than the faint sound of the ocean through an open window. "We're alone?"
"I gave Mary and Louisa the night off."
He liked the sound of that, and the sultry look under Samantha's hooded gaze brought several questions to the tip of his tongue. He tabled them and followed her lead. If she'd decided to take him up on his affair offer, he'd find out soon enough.
"I'm sure they didn't argue."
Samantha pulled out his chair and encouraged him to sit.
"All they asked is what time they should be here in the morning."
"In the morning? They live here."
Samantha removed the lid from one of the serving plates and steam escaped. She piled the plate in front of him with roast and trimmed it with scalloped potatoes and asparagus tips. "Louisa has a boyfriend, who was more than happy to put her up for the night."
"I didn't know she had a boyfriend."
"And Mary was happy to visit her grandson and daughter."
Samantha finished serving them both and sat beside him before picking up her fork. His concentration on his food was non-existent with the lavender smell of her skin so close. "And Neil?"
"He's in his cottage. I asked him to give us some privacy."
Blake felt his stomach rumble and his body heat up. "Why do we need privacy, Samantha?" He slid a sly glance out of the corner of his eye and picked up his fork.
"I thought it would be a nice change." She speared her vegetables with her fork and brought them to the tip of her tongue for a taste. As the asparagus disappeared into the cavern of her mouth, and her eyes caught his, all concerns of where their night would end escaped.
The question was… would they eat before… or after.
Blake moaned as she delicately bit the tip of her food and worked her jaw in a slow chewing pattern.
Moisture fled his mouth. Blake kept his eyes glued to his wife as he reached for his wine.
Forcing his fork to pick up food and his mouth to open, he took two bites to her one.
"How was your day?" Her innocent question was asked after she'd licked the rim of her wine glass before taking a drink.
"Fine." Was that his voice?
She smiled, knowing damn well her effect on him, then took a sip of her wine, and a bite of her food. Her lips moved slowly, reducing Blake's brain to rubble. Eating a meal had never been more seductive.
He ate quickly.
Unable to put one more bite in his mouth, Blake tipped the rest of his wine down his throat and set the glass down hard.
Samantha's innocent smile and mock surprise added to the sexual tension surrounding them both. "Is everything okay?"
He stood, his chair slid back without ceremony. "Oh, everything is perfectly fine."
She reached for her wine but he caught her hand midway and pulled her to her feet. He didn't offer her any escape before crushing his lips to hers. Like him, she greedily accepted his tongue in her mouth and offered up hers as well.
She tasted like wine and smelled like spring. Blake angled his mouth and deepened their kiss. The feel of her hands clutching his shirt soon opened and spread over his chest before circling his back. Samantha whimpered and melted into his arms. Every touch from this woman was so real and alive with desire. She matched him perfectly. Her fight for control, even now, was exciting and new. No one ever drove his relationships. Blake never gave them the reins. With Samantha, he could loosen his grip and trust that she'd drive them both in safe waters.
As Samantha pushed his jacket off his shoulders and he moved his lips from hers so he could breath, he allowed himself a glance into the passionate green eyes of the woman in his arms. "You're beautiful."
Unlike any other time he'd offered her a compliment, he thought this time she believed him.
Nimble fingers started to tug at his tie as Blake backed her to the far end of the dining room table, away from their plates and food. His tie fell to the floor and Samantha leaned forward and licked and nibbled her way over his chin and neck. Her sexy bedroom voice spoke between bites. "I've thought about your latest proposal."
More than thought about it.
Running his hand over her shoulder, he loosened the sleeve of her dress and pressed his lips to the flesh between her shoulder and neck. So sweet. "Come to any conclusions?" he asked, playing her game, but knowing the score.
His teeth caught the lobe of her ear and her body shuddered. In his mind, he filed the spot on her body as one that gave her a bolt of pleasure. He'd find more places before the night was finished.
"I-I decided I'm a mercenary and not a masochist."
He licked the back of her ear.
"Oh, God, do that again."
He smiled over her neck and did as she asked. The feel of her leg rubbing against his, of her hips searching for friction caused every muscle in his body to strain for her touch. Had he ever been so in need of a woman before? Even in his sex-coated brain, he wanted to be absolutely sure Samantha wanted the same things he did.
Blake buried his hands in her hair and forced her eyes to his. "Are you sure about this, Samantha?"
Her eyes searched his. "Yes," she whispered.
His heart kicked in his chest. "I'm asking for more than one night."
Leaning back, she lifted a hand to his cheek. "One night won't be enough. I want the full year."
With his gaze zeroed in on the green depths of her eyes, Blake sealed their newest, crazy deal with a slow, sizzling kiss.
Blake lifted her hips and set her on the table before moving between her thighs. He found the bare flesh at her knee and traveled up the silky span of her leg. Everywhere he touched, he wanted to taste, to feel her response. She tugged his lower lip into her mouth and his mind envisioned her using her mouth on much more pleasurable parts of his body.
Samantha clawed at his shirt until she had every button undone and her hands fanned over him. Her fingers flicked his nipples before she released his mouth and bent down to taste him there. His mind grew dizzy as she played with his body. Her legs wound around his waist and the heat of her core pressed against his erection. With a long breath, Blake drew her scent deep inside him.
As he started to slide the zipper of her dress down, he opened his eyes and noticed the hard surface of the table she sat on. It wouldn't do for their first time together to happen along with their dirty dishes.
With Samantha licking and kissing his flesh, he easily lifted her off the table.
She giggled and wrapped her legs around him and clasped her hands around his shoulders. Walking to the nearest couch was more erotic than he thought possible. Every step brought the heat of her body sliding a jolt of pleasure through him.
Damn house was too big, it took entirely too much time to press her into a soft couch and cover her body with his. His shirt went in one direction, her dress in another. Blake stared on at the swell of her ample breasts pushed against a black, lacy bra. "So beautiful." He played with her breast through the fabric, making her nipple pebble under his touch. He hesitated before revealing her tender flesh and dipped in for his first taste. Samantha arched into him, pushing her breast deeper in his mouth.
"Please, Blake." Her hips tilted higher, reaching for him.
He wanted to learn her body, find every spot, and worship it. But Samantha was tugging at his pants, finding the zipper and reaching inside. When she wrapped her hand around his hot erection, she stole his breath. He forgot about her breast, about the fact she still wore panties, and thought of nothing more than plunging deep inside her folds.
The soft texture of her hand held him firm. Her lips kissed his neck. "I need you," she whispered with her deep, sexy voice.
"You'll have me," he promised as he forced his body away from hers long enough to kick his pants free, his shoes, and boxers. While he scrambled to disrobe, Samantha wiggled her slim hips and twisted her lace panties off.
Blake found a condom in his wallet and quickly covered himself. When he turned back, Samantha had bent her knee and rested her leg against the back of the couch, her arms reached to pull him back into her embrace.
He wedged himself between the comfort of her legs and found her lips for another kiss. She drove her tongue deeper, not letting him gain a breath. Blake knew she'd be passionate, had fantasized about her in bed since they met, but this was more than he could ever want.
The tip of his need pushed close to her wet core, hungry for her. When Samantha wrapped her leg around his waist, giving him all the room he needed to please them both, he slid home.
The mewling noise she made when he was buried deep inside her tight body pumped his ego high.
"So good," she said after tearing her lips away. Hot, fast breaths escaped her lungs and her hips started to move.
Better than good. Being in her arms was perfect. Blake's desire to make Samantha writhe with pleasure, pleasure he would bring her forced him to hold back all thoughts of his own release.
"You're tight," he told her.
His gaze caught hers, her lips parted with passion, her heart beat pulsing at her neck. "Advantage to being small."
But it was more than that. And after, once they were both sated, he'd ask about her past, about the men in her life. Right now, it was all about touching her, pleasing her.
When her breath kicked higher, and her fingers dug into his shoulders and rounded over his ass he knew he'd found the rhythm she needed. "Yes," she moaned. "Right there."
Hips rocking, he forced his release back, waiting for the moment Samantha plunged over the cliff. When she did, she called out his name and strained closer, her body pulsating him in a tight cocoon. Blake released the tight hold on his control and followed her into heaven.
****
The weight of Blake's body pressed her into the sofa, his breathing as ragged as hers. She stretched her leg and ran it down the backside of his. She couldn't stop smiling. Even when the tremors of pleasure simmered to a twitch, she held him close.
Yeah, like she could have said no to this. And to think, she'd have access to his amazing body and sexual talents for an entire year. The eventual end to their relationship made her pause, but she pushed the images of saying goodbye away and focused on the scent and feel of the man still buried inside her body.
"That was – "
"Incredible," he finished.
Was it for him? He'd had more lovers than her by far. Hell, she could count hers on one hand and still have three fingers left over. But Blake, he'd have score sheets to compare notes. She wanted to ask but her own insecurities stopped her.
"What's that look," he asked, staring down at her face.
"What look?"
"The one of uncertainty, the one you have whenever you tell me you're too short or some such nonsense."
Theirs was a relationship based on honesty, but how much could she ask and not sound like a needy, emotional fool. "Was it? Incredible for you?"
"Samantha," he said on a breath. He lifted a hand to her face and stroked her chin with the back of his finger. His hips were still planted firmly against hers. "Do you notice how well your body fits against mine?"
Her breasts were flush with his chest, her legs wrapped around his hips. Their lips so close she could taste him still. "Yes."
"You're perfect. More passionate than I ever imagined. And although I'm beyond satisfied right now, I don't think I'm finished with you tonight. This," he kissed her softly as he spoke, "is the start of a wonderful thing."
Well, he certainly knew how to make a woman smile, even after her orgasm.
Blake unfolded from her arms long enough to stand. Then he picked her up and started walking from the room.
Samantha glanced at the floor with horror. "Blake, our clothes."
He chuckled, ignored her words, and carried her up the stairs to his room where he made good on his earlier threat.
****
By the time she'd made it downstairs the following day, it was late morning. Their clothes had been cleaned up, the dishes done. A picture of the two of them caught in the act of making love would have been the only thing plainer than the message left for the staff to find. Her face was hot with embarrassment and she lowered her gaze every time she passed Mary or Louisa the next day. The women were terribly polite. In fact, Samantha would have rather they nudge her arm and give her a thumbs up than act as if they cleaned up after Blake and his lovers every week.
As it was, Samantha broached the subject of previous lovers to Blake as they packed their clothes. "So, Blake," she started all-innocent like. "Tell me, will I find any remnants of lovers past hidden in any of your dressers?"
He stopped and stood to stare at her, but she didn't skip a step while packing. After all, she was the one who needed to pack clothes. Blake had all he needed on two continents.
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"You know… did Vanessa have a drawer of her own here, or Jacqueline?"
His stare bored holes into her back, but she refused to look him in the eye. She shouldn't care, but she wanted to know if he entertained his lovers in his home often.
"I never found anyone drawer-worthy," he told her.
Well, that was something. "Not even one panty left behind?"
She kept packing, not looking his way. I'm pathetic.
"Samantha?" He'd moved to stand behind her. His hands reached out and touched both her shoulders to turn her toward him. His grey eyes caught hers. "I've only had this home for four years. You're the only woman who's slept in my bed."
An inner smile blossomed deep in her chest but she held it from spreading over her lips, not wanting him to see how much his words pleased her.
Samantha nodded.
He placed a soft kiss on her lips. "Would it bother you if there had been a drawer full of another woman's things?"
It shouldn't. Three weeks ago, they were strangers. "Well, I guess not…" Hell, yes.
"Samantha?" Her name was drawn out in a slow knowing slide.
"Okay, yes," she confessed. "Because…" She searched for a valid excuse and found one within easy reach. "Your staff will think better of me, or us… as a couple, if I'm not just a number here at the house."
Pathetic. She shouldn't be trying to be more than a number. She should, however, be trying to build barriers around her heart, her feelings, and avoiding any emotional attachment to the man staring deep in her eyes.
"You're not a number, Samantha. If you ever feel like the staff here, or in Europe, are treating you otherwise, you need to let me know."
She shook her head. "Everyone's been wonderful."
Blake's eyes narrowed briefly, as if trying to solve a riddle, then he turned away to finish his minimal packing.
When she turned back to her suitcase, she allowed a tiny smile to cross her lips. It was wrong of her to romanticize what was happening between them. They were only having a mutually satisfying sexual relationship and just happened to be married. No big deal.
"So, Samantha?" Blake forced his way into her thoughts.
"Yeah?"
"Have you ever had any drawer-worthy men in your life?"
Her hand hesitated. "No." Was the short answer to her lack of a personal life.
They continued packing.
"Any recent boyfriends who might knock on the door?"
Samantha slid a glance over her shoulders. Blake had his back to her while he fiddled with something in his hand. Okay, so her husband was curious about her past. It wasn't as if hers was splattered all over the tabloid news like his.
"The boyfriend well has been dry for some time," she offered.
"How dry?" he asked as the last word left her lips.
She turned and waited for him to feel her eyes and return her stare.
"When my father went to jail, I didn't allow myself to get close to anyone."
"You were twenty one when your dad was convicted."
"Right."
"There's been no one since…"
"None."
He pondered that for a minute, gaze drifting toward the ceiling. "So that means…"
"I've had two lovers besides you," she gave him, knowing that was where this conversation was going. It was strange, knowing exactly where his thoughts were. "One in high school, because everyone goes to senior prom, and another in college." The one who twisted her mind in two and ruined her trust in men.
There must have been something that crossed her face, because Blake dropped the questions and walked toward her again.
"Call it a male thing, but I like knowing I'm in a very exclusive list."
Thoughts of her college years, of the turmoil and pain of that time were hard to push away. She forced a smile on her lips and a flip comment from her tongue. "Well, if a girl can't sleep with her husband, who can she sleep with?"
Blake's eyes narrowed. "Right."
He started to turn away, but a wedge had somehow formed between them. "Blake?"
"Yeah?"
"I like knowing I'm the only one who's been here."
Silence stretched before them. Both staring at each other and saying nothing. When Blake turned back to his task, Samantha finished hers.