Weekend Wife by Carolyn Zane Read Free Book Online Page B

yelped as she reached up and clobbered him in the eye with his alarm clock.
    “Why, you surprise me,” she grunted sarcastically, trying to free her ankle from his death grip. “I thought you sex fiends were into pain!” Flailing her arms like a windmill in a hurricane, she proceeded to send his lamp crashing to the floor, along with the contents of his nightstand.
    “Oh, for the love of—” No wonder she was homeless. She’d probably torn her home down. And, at the rate she was going, he’d be out on the street with her in no time. “I’ve been trying to tell you... I’m not a pervert!” he roared, hauling her back up onto the bed next to him.
    “Sure!” she yelled. “Just don’t get into an accident. The doctor might not understand your taste in underwear!” Rolling over to the opposite side of the bed, she kicked his other nightstand over.
    Growing infinitely weary of her American Gladiator act, Ty decided he’d had enough. He couldn’t begin to imagine what his neighbors must be thinking. “Shut up!” he growled. “Now!” He clamped his hand back over her mouth and hoped she wouldn’t bite again.
    Looking down into her fear-filled, liquid brown eyes, he shook his head and exhaled heavily. She was terrified and he didn’t blame her. But he had to admire her spunk. Something about this little spitfire turned him on.
    “I’m not going to hurt you. Honest.” He didn’t know what else he could say to convince her.
    Exhausted, he sank down on the bed next to her, his hand still firmly pressed against her soft lips. Oh, man, he groaned inwardly. She smelled good. She felt good. She looked good. He drew his eyes away from his dancing-pickle boxers and over his misbuttoned dress shirt to her eyes.
    Even though Ty wished he could lie here with his nose buried in her soft, sweet-smelling hair all night, he knew he had some explaining to do. Propping himself up on one elbow beside her, he asked, “Will you be quiet now?”
    He felt her quick and silent nod beneath his hand, and slowly pulled his fingers from their firm grip over her mouth.
    “That’s better.” He sighed, collapsing on his back next to her. “Now then. If you’ll promise to shut up and hear my side of the story, I’ll let you up,” he said.
    As she nodded again, he lifted his leg from across her body and sat up, pulling her with him. She was frantically tugging at the shirt she wore, trying to cover the delicious dips and curves that still had his blood pounding in his ears.
    “Here,” he said, pushing off the bed and striding to his dresser. Pulling out a pair of running shorts with a drawstring and some white sport socks, he tossed them over at her and ordered gruffly, “Put these on and meet me downstairs in the living room. I promise I’ll explain everything. If you don’t like what I have to offer you, you’re free to go whenever you like. And,” he added, stepping gingerly over the broken champagne bottle on his way out the door, “watch out for broken glass.”
    * * *
    Ty ran down to the kitchen and pulled a bottle of brandy out of a cabinet. He needed a drink. Totally thunderstruck by the difference in her appearance, he pondered how amazing it was that a simple shower could transform someone so completely. He was still reeling from the impact of their wrestling match on his bed.
    She was incredible. Fiery, passionate, beautiful. And those legs. Slender, shapely legs that seemed to go on forever. He just had to convince her to stay. With that sweet, innocent face and those huge, sparkly brown eyes, his heart leapt with excitement. All she needed was the right clothes and hair, and this woman could give Roxanne a run for her money anyday. If he could only get her to cooperate.
    For some reason, he had the feeling that under her false wall of bravado, she was a lady. Somewhere along the way—before something had gone terribly wrong—Ty was sure that she’d lived a much better life.
    * * *
    Sensing that Ty was