WIFE FOR HIRE Read online

  Nash paused long enough to issue orders before he strode into the breeding barn. The Thoroughbred auction was a week away, and his stock had better be in prime condition to sell. Briefly he checked on a mare about to foal, thinking how this addition was going to help stock his lands with good Thoroughbreds. Anyone for miles around this country knew it wasn't the horses a breeder had, but the land they had to graze and raise them. This land had been under the guardianship of a Rayburn since before the American Revolution, and Nash had always felt there were generations of his ancestors staring down at him the day he took over the reins. He had a reputation and tradition to maintain, but with the girls growing and needing more of him, it was getting harder to divide his time and do the things he needed to make their life better.

  Nash muttered a curse and knew he was just avoiding any thoughts of Hayley. She still made him breathe hard, and he knew he hadn't been very congenial to her. It wasn't her fault he couldn't control his emotions around her. She stirred up every memory he'd suppressed since he'd broken up with her—and married Michelle.

  Walking into the stall of the horse he usually rode, Nash saddled the animal. Then he paused with his hand on the pommel. He couldn't tell Hayley the truth, even if it was to ease the old hurt she tried to deny she felt. It would just make the entire situation worse. Mounting his horse, he rode around the rim of the paddock before leaping the fence and taking off across the pasture, trying hard not to think that the one woman he'd wanted in his house was now there. Or that his first honest, totally masculine reaction when he saw her was to wonder whether she still looked as good naked as she did fully clothed.

  Hayley hefted the picnic basket, walking down the long stone-scattered driveway and heading off on the side road, under the drape of willow and sweet-gum trees, to the barns. Beside her, Kim and Kate each carried a big thermos and struggled to keep up. She veered in the direction of voices. Male voices. When she rounded the edge of the barn, she gave a shrill whistle, bringing heads around.

  "Hey, fellas," she called, holding up the basket. "Hungry?"

  Six men dropped their pitchforks, lashed leads to posts or set shovels aside and came to her like foxes after bunnies as she set the basket on the tailgate of the truck and opened the lid. She introduced herself and each ranch hand tipped his hat a fraction and nodded cordially. Jimmy Lee was long and lanky with a big smile and deeply tanned skin. He had an intense stare and wasn't above having a look-see of her from head to foot, until Beau nudged him. Beau was young, just out of high school, she imagined, and blushed when she shook his hand. There was Ronnie, about forty, with hair too long for his age and tied back in a ponytail, his straw cowboy hat crimped to fit his head just so. He didn't talk and just eyeballed her, accepting a cup of cold water. Then there was Bubba.

  "Just what name does Bubba replace?" she asked the older man, gray-haired with weathered features and a sweat-dampened dark T-shirt.

  "Robert. Bob."

  Hayley decided Robert fit him better, despite the muscled chest, John Deere hat and overalls. Seth moved closer, lifting Kate and Kim onto the tailgate and peering into the basket.

  "Miss Hayley made sandwiches, Mr. Seth. Big hulking ones," Kate said, glancing at Hayley.

  She winked, then motioned to the twins with a stack of paper cups to pour some water for the men first. "I've got roast beef, ham and cheese, turkey and plenty of everything." Hayley fluffed out a tablecloth, then hitched her rear on the tailgate to lay out the meal with chips and fruit. "There's coffee for you, Ronnie," she said. "Kim mentioned you favored it, even in this heat."

  "Yes, ma'am, I do." He took the thermos and poured a steaming cup.

  Hayley felt perspiration trickle down her spine at just the thought of drinking it right now.

  She served up a plateful for each of the men, then pulled out the peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches the girls had requested. Sitting atop hay bales in the truck, Kim and Kate were in heaven over the outdoor break. As she munched, Hayley studied the house. It was a massive structure in the low-country, two-story style, with a porch that wrapped completely around it. And this one, she'd discovered while vacuuming earlier, went on forever. There were six bedrooms in the place, and there was also a guest cottage out back near the pool. Beyond the two huge barns was a bunkhouse. The whole place was beautiful, and Hayley relaxed just looking at it. River Willow. She'd forgotten the name over the years, but as with Nash, that was all she'd forgotten.

  The distant sound of hoofbeats came to Hayley, and she glanced around just as Nash came riding over the hill from the west side of the house. The girls waved and he waved back. He paused on the hill, shadowed beneath a tall willow tree, and her heart did a strange leap in her chest. That was just too much man for one body, she thought. He looked magnificent, exuding strength and masculine power, and for an instant, the image of a man, a hundred years ago in a billowy white shirt and knee breeches, flooded her mind. Old family, a Southern gentleman, even if he'd grown sharp around the edges. He met her gaze, and even at this distance she could feel it glide over her skin, pause where it shouldn't, yet flattering her that it did.

  He still turns me inside out, she thought.

  His horse pranced delicately before he bolted toward the barns. Hayley turned back to the truck, resisting the urge to fan herself. The girls wadded up the sandwich wrappers and tossed them in the basket. She sent them off to collect the trash from the men as she packed up. When she looked up again, Nash was a few yards away. But she'd heard him, felt her pulse quicken when she knew he was riding closer. It was disgusting, this chaos she felt around him still.

  "What are you doing out here?" He slid from the horse's back and stormed toward her.

  If he thought she'd run for cover, he was wrong. She had to stick with this, finish this job. And nothing, not even his intimidating glare, was going to make her back down. "Y'all need to stiffen up a bit." She gestured to the ranch hands and Nash. "You're just too loose and happy-go-lucky. I'm surprised you get a lick of work done." The hands snickered, moving quickly off, and Nash stopped, his blue eyes narrowing.

  "Does it hurt?" she asked.

  He looked at her from beneath the brim of his hat. "Does what hurt?"

  "To smile."

  Disarmed, his lips twitched. Behind her, the twins giggled.

  "Guess not." Nash wondered now why he was so angry. Was it that his ranch hands were flirting with her, or was it that she was simply here, winning everyone over but him?

  "Thanks a heap, Miss Hayley," Jimmy Lee said as he sauntered back, handing her his cup and letting his gaze slide up and down long enough to make her blush.

  "You're a rascal, Jim."

  Nash gritted his teeth at the smile she gave the man.

  "That's what my mama keeps saying."

  He walked away and Hayley flipped open the basket and held out a sandwich to Nash. "Would you like one?"

  He looked between her and the sandwich.

  "This doesn't take a lot of brain power, Nash. A simple yes or no will do."

  Nash took the sandwich. She tossed him a soda, forcing him to catch it.

  "Come on, girls." She slapped the basket lid shut and inclined her head. Kim and Kate scrambled down, stopping before Nash. He squatted to meet their gaze and gave each of them a quick kiss.

  "What have you been doing all morning?" he asked.

  "Laundry," they said, smiling.

  "You never liked doing it with me."

  "But with Miss Hayley—" the girls looked at her adoringly "—it's fun."

  "Well, we still have a ton of chores before party time, ladies." She hooked a thumb toward the house and the girls skipped on ahead.

  Nash straightened, the motion bringing him inches from her. He caught the scent of jasmine again, felt the heat of her body. He took a step back. "Party time?"

  "I've promised them a game or two. Is it all right if they go in the pool?" At his hesitation, she added, "I'm an excellent swimmer."

  He knew that and
hated to deprive the girls. "Sure, just let me know before you get in so I can check the chlorine."

  "I already did." She turned away, not seeing his brows shoot up.

  "Thanks, Miss Hayley," the men chimed.

  "You're welcome, guys. Don't work too hard." She walked toward the house.

  "Yeah, thanks," came a deep drawl, and Hayley sent a look over her shoulder.

  "No sweat, boss. Just doing my job."

  She wasn't. She didn't have to take the time to make the hands a midafternoon snack and certainly not bring it out here to them. They'd all had a decent lunch at noon. And Nash knew there was more than one person's share of work to get done in the house. He didn't like her calling him boss, either, then decided it would certainly remind him of the boundary between them.

  Regardless of his thoughts, Nash watched her round behind shifting inside her short skirt, then dragged his gaze to his daughters. A little tinge of jealousy worked beneath his skin when the girls raced back to help her carry the basket.

  "Sure was nice of her," Beau said, and Nash glanced at him. Great. The kid had a crush on her already.

  Yet in the back of his mind a little voice whispered that she was going into the pool and that meant a bathing suit. Nash turned away, swinging onto his horse and riding down to the south fence. He'd be there for a couple of hours making repairs, he told himself. Anything to keep from seeing Hayley, half-naked, in a swimsuit.

  Because then he'd remember what it was like to make love to her.

  * * *

  Two

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  Strike three. She could cook.

  Nash stood in his formal dining room and stared at the spread on the table. He wasn't sure what it was that smelled so good, yet the minute he'd entered the house, his mouth had started watering. The Hayley he'd known before couldn't boil water and had eaten food that came out of a can or could be nuked in a microwave. Unless he'd taken her out.

  It was another reminder that she wasn't the same woman.

  Behind him the ranch hands filed in, washed and shirts changed. His daughters were already sitting at their places near his, their plates prepared, beside them tall glasses of chocolate milk. He'd have to remind Hayley he preferred they didn't overdo it with the sugar.

  "Have a seat, gentleman. Dinner is served."

  Nash turned as she entered the area from the kitchen with a huge platter stacked with breaded chicken. The men scrambled for their seats as Nash slipped into his.

  "I know your mamas taught you better, or am I going to have to hold this food hostage for y'all to take off those hats?" she said, eyeing them all except hatless Nash and Seth. Caps and cowboy hats disappeared under the table, and smiling with approval, she held the platter so they could serve themselves.

  "What is it, Miss Hayley?" Beau asked, giving the platter a speculative look before stabbing a portion.

  "Chicken Castellana. It's a recipe from an old friend's Sicilian nana. See, her husband, Angelo, was a barber, and during the depression people didn't have cash, so they paid him in day-old bread, chickens, potatoes, whatever." She shrugged, talking as she moved from man to man. "People had to have a haircut to get a job." Her glance slid meaningfully to Ronnie and he smirked. "Anyway, Nana Josie created this recipe from the payments. It's been cooking all afternoon."

  She stopped beside Nash and bent to offer him the platter. He served himself, avoiding looking into those eyes.

  "Don't be shy, Nash. There's plenty more still in the oven."

  She was so close Nash felt the whisper of her breath skate down the side of his throat. He turned his head slightly and met her gaze. Her lips curved as if she knew her effect on him, and he focused on the platter, adding another piece to his plate. "Happy?"

  "Ecstatic," she said, then set the platter down. "The gravy is there, and help yourselves to seconds." She went to the hutch, picking up the water pitcher and refilling the glasses before stopping beside the girls, bending to their level. "You two doing okay?"

  They nodded vigorously, their mouths full. "Vegetables, too," Hayley said. They made faces, then after a glance at their dad, nodded. She tipped her head to Nash. "How is it?"

  "Incredible." He didn't look up.

  "Sorta ticked you off, huh?"

  Now he did look at her. He stared, dumbfounded for a second as he chewed.

  "Admit it. You didn't think I could handle it."

  He swallowed. "I admit to nothing."

  "Careful, Nash, your testosterone is dripping." His gaze narrowed and she blinked sweetly, then straightened, accepting compliments as she left the room.

  Nash gazed down the length of the table, realizing there was no place setting for her. He left his chair and went into the kitchen. She was seated at the worktable on a high stool, her face in a medical book as she ate. She looked like a pixie figurine, her head bowed, the fork poised. The lonely picture made his heart drop, and forced him to see how little family she'd had in her life. How many times had she dined alone? Spent a holiday alone?

  "Hayley."

  She looked up.

  "Aren't you joining us?"

  She gave him a patient smile. "I'm the hired help, not a regular one at that." She'd done this kind of work enough to know it just wasn't wise to include herself at the dinner table.

  "I'm sure the girls would like it."

  "But I wouldn't."

  His brows drew down and he stepped closer.

  Her heart immediately picked up its pace. "I'm temporary, Nash. I don't want to give the girls any ideas just because you and I knew each other once."

  "Know each other," he corrected, his eyes speaking volumes.

  In the biblical sense, the long nights they'd spent exploring each other. It was hard to erase those images and even harder right now to remember the heartache she'd suffered. Especially when he looked at her the way he was now. With heat and memory.

  She put the fork down, shaking her head. "Don't go there, please."

  He moved closer, his broad-shouldered presence blocking out the light. "Hayley."

  "No, Nash." She tipped her head back and met his gaze.

  The sheen in her sable eyes knocked the breath from his lungs.

  "I can't look at you across a dinner table without remembering that you walked away from me without a word." Her voice lowered to a heart-wrenching whisper. "Without remembering what it was like to be loved by you." Her lower lip quivered.

  Nash felt sliced to ribbons. "Hayley. I need to tell—"

  "No. You don't. Michelle told me all I needed."

  His eyes darkened with suppressed anger. "I can just imagine."

  "It doesn't matter. I'm a stone's throw away from my residency."

  He straightened. "And like before, nothing is going to stop you."

  She reared back a bit. "Can you blame me? I've worked hard for my degree."

  "I know you have. But we both can see there's still something here between us."

  "We can't relive the past. Too much has gone on."

  "I know I've hurt you—"

  She laughed, a short bitter sound. "Don't assume to know how I feel, Nash. As I recall, you never bothered to ask that seven years ago." He started to speak and she put up her hand. "It makes no difference to me now."

  Nash ground his teeth. It did matter. Even if she was too stubborn to admit it. His daughters' and the ranch hands' voices filtered to the kitchen. This was not the place or the time to discuss this. But they would, dammit. They would. And are you prepared to tell her the truth? a voice pestered.

  "Spend the time with your children, Nash. Ask how long they treaded water." She focused on the book and again Nash felt dismissed in his own house. He turned to the doorway. "And they helped make supper, too," she added.

  That was a hint to praise them, and Nash felt like a heel for leaving the girls all the time. But that couldn't be helped and was the singular reason Hayley was here. He stepped back into the dining room.

  Hayley bowed her head, clutch
ing the book to her chest and swallowing the tears threatening to erupt. She thought she'd dealt with this years ago. Hadn't she gone on with her life? Hadn't she focused ever bit of energy on her education? Yet she was here, in his house, working for him and she hated it. Hated the reminders that said she'd never let him out of her heart. Oh, Lord. How could she ever forgive him when it hurt so badly just to see what she'd lost? The worst of it was that she'd loved him back then very deeply, and when he'd asked her to put her education on hold, to marry him and raise a family, she'd almost conceded. They'd fought over it. He just couldn't understand that she'd dreamed of being a doctor since she was a child. She couldn't let anything stop her then, and he was unwilling to compromise. Besides, she didn't know a thing about having a home and family. She'd had little of that herself. She'd wanted her career and knew if she'd given in to him, she'd never have gone back to school, and she would have resented him for it.

  However, she never expected him to go straight into Michelle's arms.

  Michelle had had her sights on Nash the instant he and Hayley had stalled dating. Hayley had known that, but she'd just never believed her own sorority sister would betray her or that Nash would fall for Michelle's helpless-Southern-belle bit. But that was only part of it. Hayley wasn't good enough for him. She didn't have the social graces, the impeccable background that Michelle Criswell had. Michelle was a socialite; she traveled in Nash's social circles, possessing all the proper qualities a man like Nash needed in a wife. Hayley, on the other hand, was nearly poverty-stricken, on scholarships and working two jobs to survive. She could never measure up to the Rayburn two-hundred-year-old lineage.

  Michelle had flashed her indecently large engagement ring in her face and victoriously said just that.

  Hayley sniffled and swallowed, reaching for a napkin to dry her tears. Then, she couldn't have made plans till she had her MD, and she couldn't now.

  Nash's deep voice rumbled through the distance to the kitchen, making her heart skip and she looked up at the wall separating the kitchen and dining room. It's too late to go back, she thought.