Weekend Wife by Carolyn Zane Read Free Book Online

luxurious, silky, shiny, golden brown hair now hung in greasy strings at the sides of her face. And the face. Gaunt and drawn were two words that came to mind as she took in her sallow complexion. She looked like a chimney sweep.
    The clothes that had fit perfectly when she’d started this project now hung in filthy tatters on her slender frame. It was amazing what a week or so of eating beans could do for those excess curves, she thought.
    Unable to stand the dirt and grime for another second, Emily quickly strode to the inviting walk-in shower and turned on the hot water. This would only take a second, she decided, stripping out of her grubby clothes and tossing them onto the floor. Besides, hadn’t he said for her to make herself at home? Hopefully he would stay on the phone for a few more minutes.
    Glorious hot water cascaded over her head. Loading her hair with scented shampoo, Emily lathered it into a mountain of suds. Oh, how wonderful the warm, penetrating spray felt on her shoulders and back as she ran the soapy washcloth over her frame. She scrubbed at her flesh until she could feel it squeak with cleanliness, then rinsed her hair thoroughly and shut off the faucet. Grabbing a huge, fluffy bath sheet, she hurriedly dried off and wrapped it around herself. She found a brand-new toothbrush in his medicine cabinet and brushed her teeth.
    Looking down at her filthy pile of rags in dismay, she decided that there was no way she could put her clothes back on until they’d been washed. Tyler probably wouldn’t mind if she borrowed some of his clothes. Anyway, at this point, she didn’t really care what he thought of her.
    Tiptoeing into his bedroom, she discovered one of his dress shirts hanging over a bedpost. It would do for now. Donning it, she rolled the sleeves up to her elbows and was glad to discover that it covered her somewhat modestly.
    Fear that Ty would probably come looking for her as soon as he finished his business on the phone had her nerves jangling as she tried to button his shirt with shaky fingers. When she was halfway done, she knew she’d missed a hole and gave up. No time.
    After a rapid search of his dresser drawers, she finally found his underwear and pulled out a pair of silly boxers sporting dancing pickles. They would have to do. Pulling them on, she plunged her hands deeper into his tidy drawer and groped around for a pair of socks.
    He was a bit of a neat-nick, she noted, quite unlike herself. She had always felt that orderly drawers were the sign of a boring mind. Well, Tyler Newroth blew that theory all to heck. With his intense good looks and that powerful build, not to mention his insane ideas about marriage, Ty was anything but boring. No, most certainly not...boring.
    What on earth was this? Pushing aside a pile of socks, Emily was stunned to find a bottle of champagne wrapped in what looked like lacy women’s underwear and tied with— handcuffs?
    Was this the proposal he’d had in mind? Well, he could just take her back to the freeway where he’d found her. She was no man’s terminator, or dominator, or whatever the heck it was one did with handcuffs and the like. No, thank you. If he wanted to wear women’s undies, he’d have to do it on his own time.
    Her heart thundered fearsomely in her ears as she lifted the handcuffs off the bottle and let them dangle from her fingertips. Why would he seek her out? She had neither the looks nor the talent for this type of thing. And how on earth would she ever fit this juicy tidbit into her thesis?
    No way. She’d better grab Helga and Carmen and make a run for it. Now. If she were lucky, they could all be back out on the highway before Ty could say ��Spank me.”
    “I see you found my room.”
    “Argh!” Emily screamed, and whirled around. Handcuffs in hand, she faced Ty, who stood squarely in his doorway, watching her.
    Ohmagoshohmagosh. Her heart bounced around in her rib cage, building centrifugal force and threatening to