Maureen Child: An Officer And A Millionaire

“You just keep your distance, you… pervert .”

“Pervert?” He snorted a laugh and wiped the water from his face with one hand. “I’m just a husband trying to greet his wife .”

“There’s no greeting going on here. At all.” Sidestepping fast, she snatched a navy-blue towel off the closest rod and wrapped it around herself in the blink of an eye.

Too bad. Hunter had enjoyed the view and the glimpse of peaked pink nipples he’d had just before she’d covered up. If nothing else, his “wife” had a body designed to make a man want to spend some time exploring those curves.

Now, though, she was managing to look down on him even though she was a full foot shorter than he was. The ice in her emerald-green eyes was enough to give a lesser man frostbite. But Hunter had the fires of righteous anger on his side, so he wasn’t moved. Meeting her stare with an icy glare of his own, he demanded shortly, “Who the hell are you?”

“Who am I?” She whipped her head to one side, and her soaking wet hair swung back and out of her eyes, spraying Hunter with another spill of droplets. Frantically, she tucked one end of the towel into the valley between her breasts. But she was breathing so hard, the terry cloth shield she was obviously depending on didn’t look any too stable. “I’m in my bathroom taking a shower, minding my own business when-Oh, God.” Her eyes widened. “You’re…I can’t believe I didn’t recognize you right away. But you scared me and-”

He flicked another lazy glance at her now scantily clad body. “Babe, if I scared you, you had it coming. Imagine how it felt for me to find out from every-damnbody in town that I have a wife. ”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake…”

“That about covers it,” Hunter snapped, taking another step toward her. His voice was deceptively quiet. “See, I’ve got a month’s leave coming. Decided to head home, do some recuperating, check in with my grandfather…” He walked a small, tight circle around her and enjoyed the watchful look in her eyes as she slowly turned in place to follow his progress.

“Imagine my surprise when everywhere I go in town, people are telling me how excited my wife is gonna be to see me.”

“Well, I’m not. Excited,” she added, as if he’d missed that. “More like irritated,” she said. “Annoyed, really.”

“Now that’s a damn shame.” Hunter stopped directly in front of her and did his best to loom. Wasn’t difficult. Since he was taller than his “wife,” forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at him was all too easy. “You think you’re annoyed?”

“Wouldn’t you be, when a perfect stranger sneaks into your shower like a scene out of the movie Psycho ? All that was missing was that hideous, screechy violin music.”

If she had been scared, she’d recovered now, Hunter thought. “I’m not the one in the wrong here, babe. You’re the liar. You’re the intruder.”

“Is that right?” She sniffed, plopped both hands on her towel-covered hips and started tapping one bare foot against the bathroom rug.

“Straight up, that’s right. You know damn well we’re not married, so why don’t you tell me what your scam is? And how the hell did you convince my grandfather to let you into the house?” The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. “Simon’s nobody’s fool, so you must be the queen of con artists.”

“Con artist?” She slapped both hands against his chest and shoved. He didn’t even sway in place. But her towel slipped a notch. He had hopes of another good look at her.

“If you think you’re scoring points by acting all outraged,” Hunter told her, his gaze dropping briefly to the slippage of her towel, “you’re wrong.”

She fumed silently for a second or two, and Hunter could have sworn he actually saw the wheels in her brain turning, calculating, figuring.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she muttered.

“Oh, that’s a good one, babe. I’m the one who’s not supposed to be here?”

“You didn’t tell Simon you were coming.” She scowled at him. “And stop calling me ‘babe.’”

“I’ll call you whatever I damn well please. And you’re lucky I’m not calling the cops.”

Her mouth dropped open.

“As for my not letting Simon know I was coming, I consider that a good thing,” he told her, meeting those hard green eyes with a cold look that should have frozen her on the spot. “Hard to catch a liar and a cheat if she knows you’re coming.”

“I am not a-you’re really a very irritating man, did you know that?” She cocked her head to one side, and her wet hair hung in a curtain behind her. “No one in town ever mentioned that part of your personality. But then,” she added, “you’re scarcely here, so they’ve probably forgotten.”

“I’m here now,” he pointed out, ignoring the slight twinge of something uncomfortable. No, he didn’t get back to Springville very often. He spent most of his time on base or being shipped out for various highly secret operations. Was he supposed to take a rare weekend off and drive all the way upstate only to turn around and drive back down again? He didn’t think so. Besides, how he lived his life was none of this woman’s business.

“This isn’t about me, babe. ” He used the word deliberately and enjoyed watching her cringe at it. “Let’s get to the real questions. What the hell are you up to? Why are you here? In my suite? Why are you telling everyone in town that we’re married, and how the hell did you fool my grandfather into believing you?”

“Your suite,” she muttered, inhaling so sharply she loosened the towel enough that it opened wide and swished silently down her body.

Hunter got one more good, long look at full, high breasts, perky pink nipples and soft brown curls at the apex of her thighs. His own body sat up and howled. Then she muttered a curse, grabbed the towel and wrapped herself up again.

“Your suite? That’s a good one. I’ve been living in this suite for a year now, and, funny,” she added with a touch of sarcasm, “but I don’t remember seeing you.”

Screw her snide tone. He was concentrating on the words. “A year? You’ve been pretending to be my wife, living in my house for a year?”

Had it really been that long since he’d been home? Damn, guess it had been. But he’d talked to Simon every couple of weeks over the last year, and the old man had never once mentioned the woman masquerading as Hunter’s wife. Not one syllable. Not a noun. Nothing. What the hell was going on around here?

Had she done something to his grandfather? Threatened him in some way? Hard to believe. Simon Cabot was as tough as three old boots. But he was older now. Maybe…

Hunter moved in even closer, riding a tide of fury that had the edges of his vision blurring. He looked down at her and had to admire the fact that she didn’t back up. She didn’t cower, even though she was far smaller than he, not to mention naked and all kinds of vulnerable. Her eyes flashed at him as if daring him to try to hurt her. It was almost like watching a toy poodle transform into a pitbull.

But admiration aside, he had to know what she was up to. “Play time’s over, honey. Whatever scam you’ve been running, you’re done. And if I find out you’ve stolen so much as twenty bucks from my grandfather, your cute little ass is going to wind up behind bars.”

Steam was slowly sifting out of the room, and the air was chill enough to bring goose bumps to her stilldamp skin. If she was feeling the cold, though, she ignored it. Lifting her chin, she said, “I’m not going to continue this conversation naked.”

“Well, you’re not leaving this room till I get some answers.”