Wife For A Week Part 8

"It's been a wonderful week for us, Barbara," Angela said. Hank nodded his agreement, as always pleased by Angela's natural graciousness.

She would make some man a wonderful wife, he thought, fighting a pang of regret. She would be an a.s.set to any man's life. But, he didn't want her as his wife. He desperately needed her as his secretary.

"Okay." Barbara clapped her hands together and smiled. "Today we're going to experience something fun. It doesn't take long for married people to take s.e.x for granted. The nights of long caresses, of endless foreplay usually end quickly after the wedding vows are said."

Hank felt a nervous knot form in his stomach. What did Barbara want them to do? Indulge in intimate foreplay right here in the library... right here in front of her? Surely not. He looked at Angela, saw the anxiety that darkened her eyes. Apparently her thoughts were much like his own.

Barbara laughed. "You should see your faces. Don't worry, I'm not some voyeur intent on sharing intimate moments with you. On the contrary, I don't want you touching each other in a s.e.xual manner at all, but I do want you to touch each other."

"What do you mean? Touch each other?" Hank tried not to radiate the apprehension he felt. Touching Angela, in any way, shape or form, had become an exquisite form of torture. He'd definitely prefer to skip this particular exercise, but there was no way he could tell that to Barbara.

"Okay, Hank. We'll start with you. I want you to explore Angela's face with your hands." Barbara looked at him expectantly.

Hank looked at Angela, wondering if anyone else in the room could hear the thunderous beat of his heart. He didn't want to touch her...because he wanted desperately to touch her.

He framed her face with his hands, then looked at Barbara. "I'm not sure what you want me to do," he said.

"Close your eyes. Pretend that the only way you can see her is through your fingertips," Barbara instructed. "Start with her hair, then work your way down all the features of her face."

Hank closed his eyes, his fingers working to untie the scarf that held her hair at the nape of her neck. As the scarf came undone, her hair sprang free and he tangled his hands in the length of it.

The silky strands felt wonderfully erotic against his palms, across the back of his hands. He realized he'd dreamed of doing just this... luxuriating in her beautiful hair, ever since he'd seen it loose and flowing around her shoulders on the morning he'd picked her up at her house.

He left her hair and smoothed his fingertips across her forehead, over her perfectly arched eyebrows and down the length of her nose. Her skin was smooth, softer than Hank had ever imagined.

Her cheeks were warm, her lips warmer and when Hank's fingertips danced lightly across her lips, he opened his eyes and looked at her.

Why had he ever believed her to be plain? Her amber eyes shone with a brilliance that stole his breath away. Long, gold-tipped lashes cast faint shadows as she broke his eye contact with a selfconscious blush.

And then it was her turn to examine his features. Her fingertips were cold and trembled slightly as she stroked across his brow and down his cheeks. When her fingers touched his mouth, he felt the fire that had been simmering in the pit of his stomach burst into flame.

He felt her breath on his face. Warm and sweet, her breaths came a little faster, a little deeper than normal, letting him know that she, too, was affected on some primal level by this exercise of touch.

"Okay," Barbara's voice broke the spell. Angela pulled her hands away from him and Hank drew a deep, steadying breath.

"Now your hands," Barbara said. "I want you to explore each other's hands."

Again Hank's heart pumped erratically in his chest. He wanted out...away from here, away from Angela. But, instead of jumping up and leaving, instead of making any sort of scene, he reached out for her hands.

Small. Dainty. Hank had never known that hands could be so d.a.m.ned erotic. Her fingers warmed as their hands clasped, reclasped, entangled and enfolded each other.

"I have one last a.s.signment for the two of you," Barbara said after several moments had pa.s.sed. Hank released Angela's hand, grateful for the interruption.

"Tonight, I'd like for the two of you to explore each other's bodies. I want you to touch and caress everywhere except the usual s.e.xual places. Arms... legs...knees...shoulders...I want you both to realize that making love isn't just about touching s.e.x organs. Take the time to discover those secret erogenous zones you each have. And that's it." Barbara stood.

Hank shot up from the throw rug as if he'd been kicked up from some invisible foot. Angela also rose to her feet, her cheeks flaming a brilliant red that matched the T-shirt she wore.

"I'll see you both at dinner," Barbara said. With a nod and a smile, she left the two of them alone in the library.

"Well," Hank said, forcing a lighthearted smile. "That was certainly intense," he said.

"A little too intense for me," Angela said, her gaze not meeting his. "That's one homework a.s.signment we won't be completing."

Remorse shot through Hank. As Angela started to leave the library, he caught her arm. "Angela, I'm sorry. I had no idea what I was getting us into when I hatched this scheme."

She stepped away from him and shrugged. "It's all right."

"Yeah, but you didn't exactly agree to being pawed by me when you agreed to be my wife." He searched her face, looking for an indication that she wasn't angry, that it would be all right. "I need to know that we can put this all behind us when we get back to the office," he finally said.

"Of course we can," she said, although her gaze still didn't meet his.

"Are you sure?"

She finally looked at him, her eyes calm and clear. "There's no problem, Hank. When we get back to the office, the ring comes off my finger, you go back to being Mr. Riverton, and I get a bonus that makes it all worthwhile."

Hank felt a curious disappointment at the mention of the bonus, although he had no idea where the disappointment came from. He'd known all along she was going along with the marriage conspiracy for bonus money.

Her smiles, her laughter, even the kiss they'd shared had all been part of a role...a role to help him maintain the Robinson account and win her a big bonus check. The bottom line was that their entire pretend marriage was all about money. For just a moment he'd almost forgotten that fact.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll lie down for a little while before dinner. I have a headache," she said.

Hank smiled. "Our first headache," he said, trying to find the humor that had guided them through the past five days.

"I guess so," she agreed, but there was no responding smile, no glint of humor lighting her eyes. Without saying anything else, she turned and left the room.

When she was gone, Hank sank down on one of the chairs, wondering why in the world he felt so low. They'd made it through the week, pulled the wool over everyone's eyes. He'd retain the Robinson account and when they got back to Great Falls, nothing would be different than it had been before. So, why did he feel so bad?

Angela dressed in her pajamas, grateful that tonight was the very last night she would sleep in a bed with Hank Riverton. Tonight was the last night they would pretend a relationship that didn't exist, that would never exist.

She was relieved that the experience was almost over, relieved that by this time tomorrow she'd be back in her own bed, at home with her mother and Brian.

Making sure her pajama top was b.u.t.toned up, she turned away from the bathroom mirror. She'd been in here long enough that Hank had probably already fallen asleep.

He was probably relieved that the week was almost over, too. The first couple of days they'd been here, the game had been almost fun. Hank had teased and joked with her, they'd talked and she'd learned more about him. Then, he'd clammed up, stopped teasing and grown distant. She didn't know exactly what had caused his change, but she suspected it was their kiss.

He'd probably withdrawn to make sure she didn't get any crazy ideas that he cared about her. He'd probably been afraid she'd somehow believe their little game of make-believe, afraid that the poor, little plain secretary would become delusional.

She left the bathroom and went into the bedroom, where Hank appeared to be sound asleep. She shut off the bedside lamp, then crawled onto the bed with her back facing Hank. Every night she clung to her side of the bed as if hanging from a precipice and every night when she fell asleep, she fell into the middle of the bed and Hank's arms.

The room was silent, except for the sound of their breathing. Angela closed her eyes and tried to still her mind so sleep could overtake her, but her mind refused to be still.

All she could think about was the exercise Barbara had led them through that afternoon. Touching Hank's face, exploring his handsome features with the tips of her fingers had created a wave of desire inside her...a desire she'd never felt before.

She'd looked into his eyes and had wanted to drown in the midnight-blue depths. For the rest of the day she'd felt as if she were in water over her head, making it difficult to breath, impossible to focus on anything else but Hank.

"Angela?"

His deep voice startled her. For a split second she thought of not answering, of pretending she was asleep.

"Are you asleep?"

"No," she finally answered and rolled over on her back.

He was on his side, facing her. He braced himself with his elbow and gazed at her, his eyes silvery in the moonlit room. "I'm thinking about buying some land when we get back to Great Falls," he said. "Nothing major, just enough for a house, a barn and a couple of horses."

Angela turned over and faced him in surprise. "What about your business?"

"Oh, nothing will change there, except maybe I'll start working less hours, give myself a little more free time." He turned over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. "I've been doing a lot of thinking in the last couple of days." He plumped his pillow beneath his head, his gaze thoughtful.

"Thinking about what?" Angela asked.

"The day I watched them auction off our land, our belongings, I swore that I'd work hard enough, get rich enough that n.o.body would ever take from me again." He turned back to look at her. "I realize now that I could have lost the Robinson account and the business would have been fine."

"Are you telling me that this entire week wasn't really necessary?" she asked.

"For the reasons I originally told you, no." He was silent for a moment. "But maybe necessary for other reasons. Without this week, I wouldn't have realized that I've been driving myself so hard I've lost track of my original goal."

"And what was your original goal?" Angela asked. Their voices were soft. It felt oddly intimate, lying next to him, whispering together in the darkness of the night.

"Happiness." Hank drew a deep breath. "When I first started the agency, my plan was to get enough money to buy some land and get a horse like the one I lost. Yes, as soon as we get back, I'm going to buy me a nice ranch house with a couple of acres." His eyes gleamed with antic.i.p.ation.

"It should be a house with a big front porch," Angela said, easily able to envision such a place.

"Yeah...a front porch big enough for a swing or a glider so I can sit and watch the sun set each evening."

"Or enjoy your first cup of morning coffee as you watch the sunrise," Angela added.

Hank nodded, a soft smile curving his lips. "The barn has to be a traditional red, and the house will have a white wooden fence around the immediate yard."

"With flowers planted everywhere, blooming at various times of the year."

"It's going to be great," he said.

"Sounds perfect," she agreed with a touch of wistfulness, wishing it could be their shared dream, instead of just his own. But she had to remember, he wasn't talking about her sharing in his dreams, in his future.

"Ir's what I've always wanted... what I lost track of. I figured eventually I'd get married, then have some kids. And I'd be successful enough that my children would never know what it was like to lose a home."

The thought of Hank marrying somebody, setting up a family on a little piece of land, filled Angela with a wistful yearning. "That's nice, Hank. I hope you reach your goal." She hoped he didn't notice that her voice was deeper, fuller than usual.

"If I do, it will be because of you. If you hadn't agreed to come with me this week, then I wouldn't have realized how off course I've gotten. This week and you have reminded me of all the things I want in life. And for that, I thank you." Before she knew his intention, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Chapter Eight.

His kiss didn't surprise her so much, but his hunger did. His mouth covered hers with intense heat, with ravenous need, at the same time he moved closer and wrapped his arms around her.

She had no time to prepare for the overwhelming onslaught, no time to arm herself against the sensual a.s.sault of his embrace, the utter possession of his kiss.

As his tongue danced and tangled with hers, desire washed over her, through her...a desire she'd never experienced before, desire that made rational thought nearly impossible.

He rolled over on his back, bringing her with him so that she half lay on his chest. Still, he claimed her lips with his, the deep kiss continuing as his hands moved up and down her back.

Angela felt as if she had plunged into a dream. A dream of pa.s.sion, and love... and Hank. Her head spun with the magic of his touch. She felt her blood heating inside her veins, her body electrifying as his kiss lingered on and on.

After several stroking motions on top of her pajama top, his hands moved beneath, caressing her bare back with his fevered movements. Every place his hands and fingers touched sang with pleasure.

Angela smoothed her hands over his bare chest and shoulders, feeling the strength, the sinewy muscle that lay beneath his skin. She loved the way his flesh felt, the way his chest hairs curled and sprang around her fingers. Never had she touched a male so boldly, and never had she felt so utterly female.

With a deep groan, Hank rolled them over again, this time so he was fully on top of her. Angela had never been in such an intimate position with a man, and the spinning of her mind intensified, whirling with dizzy intoxication as she felt his desire for her.

He moved his mouth from hers, and instead kissed across her cheeks, along her jaw and finally down the length of her neck. Angela gasped with sheer pleasure as his lips nipped and teased.

His lips found the sensitive place behind her ear. His rapid breaths spoke of his desire for her and increased her delight As his mouth moved down her neck, sweetly teasing her with fiery kisses, she tangled her hands in the thick of his hair and a soft moan escaped her.

His hands moved up and down her back, then slid down her sides, lingering momentarily on the swell of each breast. Angela closed her eyes, knowing they should stop, she should stop him, but not wanting to halt what had seemed destined to happen since the moment she'd agreed to be his pretend wife.

As his hands finally touched her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, she moaned with pleasure. Once more his mouth possessed hers, drinking deeply as his hands cupped her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, his fingertips rolling across their hardened peaks.

Again he rolled them over so she was beneath him. He broke the kiss and looked down at her. His eyes glittered darkly, hypnotically as one by one, he unfastened the b.u.t.tons on her pajama top.

Angela didn't move. She was transfixed by the desire she saw in his eyes, enthralled by the contagious fever that seemed to engulf them both. She wanted him to look at her like this forever. When he gazed at her with such want, such need, she felt like the most beautiful woman in the world. She wanted to feel his hands on her, his lips on her forever.

"I want you," he said as he unfastened the last b.u.t.ton. He didn't move the material aside, instead he continued to hold her gaze, as if giving her a chance to stop him now, before things reeled out of control.

"Say my name," she whispered breathlessly, needing to know that he was seeing her, wanting her, not some fantasy woman in his head.

She felt as if she were in a dream, but she wanted to make certain that he was not. "Please, say my name...say it."

"Angela. Angela." Her name sang from his lips. "My sweet Angela. I want you."

She'd believed she would never hear those words from a man. She'd never believed she would ever inspire great desire, that any man would ever say her name with such barely controlled pa.s.sion.

As her gaze remained locked with his, she moved the material that covered her, exposing her b.r.e.a.s.t.s to him.

"Sweet Angela," he whispered, then bent his head and kissed first her lips, then her neck, then he captured the tip of one of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s with his mouth.

Desire, sharp and intense, swept through Angela, a novel emotion that both frightened and electrified her. She wrapped her arms around him, smoothing her palms down the width of his back. She could feel the taut muscles beneath, felt the heat that emanated from his skin, a heat she wanted to crawl into forever.

His hips moved against hers, an intimate rhythm that created a well of want inside her. Her hips matched his rhythm, unable to do anything but respond. She felt his heartbeat, a frantic flutter that matched her own as they moved sensually together.

She'd never felt the sensations her body felt at this moment... wild desire, crazed excitement and still more than a little touch of fear.