My Favorite Husband Read online

  “I couldn’t,” he protested. “There’re no phones in the Amazon jungle. Besides, I wanted to surprise you.”

  “Well, you got more of a surprise than you bargained for, didn’t you? Do you realize that if you had come home immediately, none of this would have happened?”

  “Are you blaming me for the mess you got yourself in to?” he asked incredulously. “Hey, I’m the injured party here.”

  “Men!” Kelly exclaimed in disgust. She leaned forward and tapped on the glass to get the driver’s attention. “Could you pull over, please?”

  The woman complied and Kelly slid toward the door.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Chaz asked.

  “To the front seat. There’s too much testosterone back here.”

  “But—”

  “Keep your mouth shut, Chaz,” she warned him. “Or you’ll just dig yourself in deeper.” She got out of the limo and glared back in at him. “Don’t talk to me again until we get to the hotel. I need to think.”

  Alarmed, Chaz asked, “You are still gonna get rid of that other guy, aren’t you?”

  His only answer was to have the door slammed in his face, then she had the driver roll up the privacy glass separating the back seat from the front.

  Hell, now what? Turning to Scott, he asked, “What did I do wrong?”

  Scott’s expression was half amused, half sympathetic. “What didn’t you? Did your attitude ever strike you as say, a tad selfish?”

  “No,” he said bluntly. “It was a matter of honor. I gave my word that I would search for the lost city. I couldn’t just return home empty-handed. You know that.”

  “I understand,” Scott said sympathetically. “But to Kelly, it looks like selfishness.”

  He knew that. He just didn’t understand why. But since Scott was her brother, maybe he had some more insight into her convoluted female mind. “Do you think she’ll tell that other guy to take a hike?” Chaz asked. Then he answered his own question. “Of course she will—she’s always been loyal.” It was one of the things he loved about her.

  But sudden doubt assailed him. “Unless that’s changed, too?”

  “No, that hasn’t changed,” Scott said softly. “But the question is, who will she be loyal to? The man who left her to her own devices while he had adventures all over the world . . . or the man who stayed here by her side?”

  Good Lord, was there any question?

  From the look on Scott’s face, maybe there was. . . . Suddenly, Chaz wasn’t quite as sure of Kelly as he had been.

  * * *

  Kelly stewed the rest of the drive to Colorado Springs. Chaz hadn’t changed. Even after his captivity, he was still a thrill-seeker, still focused more on his wants and needs than hers, still irresponsible when it came to matters of the heart. She doubted he would ever grow up.

  Spencer, on the other hand, was totally grown-up—loyal, responsible, caring, and very attentive. Instead of getting rid of Spencer, maybe she should ditch Chaz.

  Then again, though Chaz had his faults, he was also charming, boyish, and adorable . . . most of the time. More like a playmate than a husband.

  Or a child?

  She shook her head, now totally confused. She wasn’t sure how the courts would rule on her marital status, but she doubted they would think her marriage to Spencer legal. Chaz was her husband. Legally, Spencer was . . . extraneous. At least, that’s how she thought the law would view it.

  But is that the way I want it?

  She had no idea, but she had to get one soon, because they had already pulled up to the hotel. Nestled at the bottom of Pikes Peak and surrounded by the grandeur of the Rocky Mountains, the Pourtales was covered with local peachblow sandstone and dotted with ornate white wrought iron balconies. It looked like a classy, understated wedding cake.

  The setting was perfect, too. Though normally lush and green during spring and summer, it glittered in pristine white splendor with yesterday’s snowfall, lending it the air of a picture-perfect postcard. Kelly sighed. Too bad she couldn’t enjoy the scenery.

  The chauffeur, who had thankfully been silent throughout the trip, brought the limo to a halt outside the Pourtales and cast Kelly a questioning look. Though the woman didn’t say a word, Kelly had the feeling that she was prepared to do whatever Kelly wanted, including ditching the men and taking off for parts unknown.

  It was tempting. . . .

  But that was Chaz’s modus operandi, not hers. Sighing, Kelly exited the car. Reluctantly.

  The driver opened the trunk and Scott and Chaz each grabbed one of Kelly’s small suitcases—in her favorite shade of lipstick red—and followed her to the registration desk inside the plush gold and white lobby.

  But once she got there, flanked by the two men, Kelly wasn’t quite sure what to say. She stared in consternation at the tall, thin man behind the counter, whose name tag read “Bernard Billings, Assistant Manager.”

  When she remained silent, he smiled with a mouth full of perfect white teeth and prompted her with, “May I help you?”

  She supposed she had to say something. “Uh, yes. Has my— Has Spencer Preston checked in?”

  With any luck, he’d taken off to the Amazon jungle as well.

  “Oh, yes.” No such luck. “You’re Mrs. Preston?”

  She said, “Yes,” Chaz said, “No,” and Scott said, “Sort of.”

  Mr. Billings raised both eyebrows, and Kelly shot Chaz and Scott warning looks. This snooty gentleman didn’t need to know the sordid details of her private life and she certainly didn’t want to explain them. It was easier just to let him assume what he wanted. “Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m Mrs. Preston.”

  Billings gave her a tight smile, his gaze flicking in silent question to the men beside her. “Very good. I had the privilege of checking Mr. Preston in earlier today to the honeymoon suite.” He handed her the key. “I wish you every happiness in your married life.”

  Chaz snorted but Kelly ignored him, saying only, “Thank you.”

  Still smiling fixedly, Mr. Billings asked, “Shall I tell him you’re on your way up?”

  Kelly said, “No,” Scott said, “Yes,” and Chaz said, “Oh, let me. . . .” with a gleam in his eye.

  The assistant manager turned to Kelly with a questioning look.

  “No,” Kelly said firmly with another warning glance at the men beside her. “I want to . . . surprise him.”

  That must have satisfied Billings, for he nodded but stared at Chaz and Scott, obviously wondering where they fit into this situation. “May I help you, gentlemen?”

  “No, that’s all right,” Chaz said carelessly. “I’m with her. I’m her husband.”

  Billings frowned as he took in Chaz’s khakis and beard. “And the gentleman in the suite would be . . . ?”

  “This is my first husband,” Kelly said with a quelling look at Chaz. “Mr. Preston is my second husband.”

  “I . . . see.”

  Ignoring him, Kelly turned to Chaz. “Didn’t you want a room?”

  “Oh, yes,” Chaz exclaimed. “A room for two, please.”

  Scott grinned at him. “Say, that’s good of you, Chaz.”

  “Not you,” Chaz said. “For me and my wife.” Then he draped a proprietary arm around Kelly’s shoulders.

  Billings paused in his typing to give Kelly another look full of attitude.

  “He means his other wife,” Kelly explained, surreptitiously stomping on Chaz’s instep.

  Chaz winced. “Huh?”

  “Yes,” she said, putting as much ice into the single word as she could. “You know—the one who usually stays home like a good little homemaker.”

  “Oh.” Chaz dropped his arm. “Yeah. Her.”

  “She’ll be along later,” Kelly explained to Billings.

  “Guess I’ll need a room of my own, then,” Scott said.

  “You’re staying, too?” Kelly asked.

  Scott grinned. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “V
ery good,” Billings said. “And you are?”

  “Her other husband,” Scott said, and draped his arm around Kelly.

  Billings’s poker face slipped and Kelly suppressed an urge to chuckle. It really wasn’t funny. Quickly, she said, “He’s just kidding. He’s my brother—the family clown.” And his sense of humor looked like it was about to get the three of them thrown out of here. Annoyed, she elbowed Scott in the ribs.

  “Oof,” he exclaimed, but grinned at her. “Sorry, Sis.” Turning to Billings, who regarded him as if he were a particularly loathsome specimen, Scott added, “Can we all have rooms on the same floor?” At the manager’s questioning look, he confided, “We’re a very close-knit family.”

  Billings’s gaze skidded across Scott, Kelly, and Chaz, who must have looked rather cozy clumped there together at the registration desk. He raised another expressive eyebrow but said nothing. Kelly was tempted to counter Scott’s suggestion, but didn’t want to cause any more of a scene. Besides, if she argued for different floors, Chaz was liable to loiter out in the hallway on her floor and heaven knew what would happen then. Better to leave it this way.

  Soon, they all had keys, but the ordeal wasn’t over yet as Billings turned to them once more. “May I have your luggage sent to your room?”

  Kelly glanced down at her cases. Yes, but to which room? Never mind—she didn’t want to deal with that right now. “Could you store mine until I call for them?”

  Once again, Billings managed to radiate disapproval but he said nothing as he summoned a bellman and had her suitcases checked. “And you gentlemen?” he asked, pointedly not noticing their lack of luggage.

  “It’s coming later,” Scott explained.

  But irrepressible Chaz said only, “Oh, I won’t need any.”

  Quickly, before Chaz could expand on his outrageous remark, Kelly grabbed their arms and steered them toward the elevator. She glanced back over her shoulder to see Billings staring after them with a frown, and resolved to avoid him at all costs.

  They took the elevator to the third floor and found that the honeymoon suite was on one end of the hall and Chaz’s room was toward the other end, across from Scott’s. All in full view of each other. Great—just what she needed. To keep them from accompanying her, she followed them to their rooms.

  It was no use chastising them—it wouldn’t do any good. As Scott opened his door, she said, “I want you both to stay here while I . . . break the news to Spencer.”

  Chaz looked like he wanted to protest, but Kelly wasn’t going to budge on this one. “I mean it,” she told both men. “No more games, understand?”

  Scott looked contrite. “Sorry, Kell. I promise—no more games.” He glanced at Chaz. “And Chaz won’t play any, either. That would be selfish. Right, pal?”

  He gave Chaz a significant look that Kelly couldn’t interpret, but apparently Chaz could, for he just muttered, “Yeah. I guess.”

  “Your word, Chaz,” she insisted. If he gave his word, she could trust him to do exactly as he said he would.

  He hesitated and his eyes flashed annoyance, but he said, “Okay, you have my word on it. No more games.” Pushing his way into Scott’s room, he said, “I’ll just wait here with your brother.” Then, making a show of checking out what was in the little refrigerator, he asked, “How long will it take to break the news to good ol’ Spence?”

  Kelly followed him in, closing the door behind her for fear that Spencer might step out into the hall and see them. “I don’t know. . . .”

  Chaz slanted a glance at her. “Well, it better not take too long or I’ll come after you.”

  That brought her chin up. “I’m going to have dinner with him first, then I’ll tell him.” Maybe a good meal would soften the blow . . . and help her figure out which husband to keep.

  Chaz looked like he was about to protest, but a warning glance from Scott stopped him. Instead, he abandoned the refrigerator to cross to her side with a peculiarly intent expression.

  Alarmed, Kelly stepped back and found herself flat against the door. Chaz planted both arms on either side of her and leaned in until she felt breathless. Lean and hard, with a musky male scent that made her dizzy, Chaz was all man.

  “Well, just remember one thing while you’re having dinner with Spence,” Chaz whispered, his breath mingling with hers as he stared intently into her eyes.

  “Wha—what’s that?”

  “Remember what’s waiting for you afterward. . . .” He captured her lips with his in a lingering, steamy kiss that made her heart zing and her blood sizzle all the way to her toes.

  Ohmigod, how could she possibly forget? “O-okay,” she stammered once he released her lips, then she somehow managed to fumble the door open. Regaining some of her composure after leaving Chaz’s intoxicating nearness, she said shakily, “And don’t you forget to stay here.”

  Apparently satisfied with the havoc he had wreaked on her senses, Chaz merely gave her a smug smile. “All right. Hurry back.” Then he closed the door.

  Whew! Kelly straightened her clothes and checked her reflection in the hall mirror. Good Lord, her lipstick was smeared and her hair was disheveled. It wouldn’t do to go to her new husband looking as if she’d just been thoroughly kissed by another man, even if she had been.

  Especially if she had been.

  Quickly, she opened her purse, pulled out her compact, and repaired the damage, then headed toward the honeymoon suite . . . and Spencer.

  She walked slowly, hoping inspiration would strike and she would find the perfect way to tell him. Unfortunately, nothing struck but an attack of cold feet. For one wild moment, she considered bolting for freedom to that beach Scott had mentioned earlier, but her innate sense of justice refused to allow that. Just imagining the scene when Chaz told Spencer exactly what had happened made her shudder.

  Besides, she’d still have to deal with it all when she got back. No, she owed Spencer more than that. But not until after dinner. . . .

  Steeling her resolve, she knocked softly on the door to the honeymoon suite.

  Spencer opened it immediately, looking suave, handsome, and very blond. Beaming, he drew her inside. “Finally. . . .” He gathered her gently into his arms and kissed her.

  He made her feel safe and cherished, but though his kiss was very nice, it had nowhere near the sizzle quotient of Chaz’s. Damn. If only she could combine Chaz’s zing with Spencer’s dependability, she’d have the perfect man.

  Her disappointment must have showed, for he released her with a puzzled, “What’s wrong?”

  “I just feel a little . . .” Guilty. “. . . nervous.”

  With a compassionate smile, he drew her farther into the room. “There’s no reason to be,” he said softly.

  She avoided answering by looking around the elegant suite. He had certainly done it up right. The lights were low, romantic music played in the background, the tables were filled with bouquets of roses, and a magnum of champagne sat chilling by the bed—which was neither frilly nor heart-shaped, though it was covered in satin.

  The bed. . . .

  She averted her eyes quickly as she worried at her lower lip. “My stomach just feels a little . . . queasy,” she said haltingly. “Can we have dinner now?”

  “Of course,” Spencer said, his smile flashing in that smooth, handsome face of his. “I’ll call room service.”

  “No,” she said quickly. If she stayed too long in this room, she might have an unwelcome visitor in the form of Chaz . . . or end up on that bed before she could explain matters.

  When Spencer turned to her with a puzzled expression, she added, “You’re always talking about how wonderful the dining room is here. I’d really like to see it.”

  His expression softened. “You really are nervous, aren’t you?”

  Kelly gave him only a sickly smile in answer. It must have been enough, for he shrugged on his jacket and escorted her to the door. “All right. We’ll have dinner downstairs, then.”

  As
he closed the door behind them, Kelly darted a glance down the hallway and saw Chaz and Scott spying on them from their partially opened doorway. With a fierce scowl, she made swatting motions at them to get out of sight before Spencer could see them.

  They closed the door, but not all the way. They still peeked out at her, though Spencer wouldn’t be able to see them. At least, not if she distracted him.

  She turned to Spencer with a bright smile and tucked her arm in his, willing him not to look in that direction. Luckily, he didn’t. All his attention was for her as he led her toward the elevator. Once they made it there, she released her breath in a relieved sigh. She was safe. For now, anyway.

  When they arrived downstairs, the genteel beauty of the dining room with its apricot and cream decor, shining crystal chandeliers, and hushed tones helped her relax. As did the wonderful Chateaubriand and the wine Spencer chose to accompany it. She drank more than she’d intended, hoping the spirits would give her enough courage to tell him what had happened.

  But the meal was over all too soon, and Spencer led her back upstairs, all consideration. It immediately made her feel guilty. But as the door closed behind them, Spencer drew her into his arms again.

  Not wanting a repeat of the kiss that had left her comparing Spencer to Chaz—to Spencer’s detriment—Kelly backed away from him. She couldn’t do this.

  Spencer dropped his arms to his side with a puzzled expression. “What’s wrong now?”

  She twisted her fingers together and avoided his eyes. “It’s just that something . . . unexpected came up today.”

  “At the memorial service?”

  She nodded. Instead of giving her courage, the wine she’d imbibed just made her thoughts confused and muddy. She didn’t know what to say.

  “I knew it was a bad idea for you to go there.”

  He had no idea how bad.

  “What happened? Are you feeling sad because of Chaz?” he asked in sympathetic tones.

  Sad? No, that was one emotion she wasn’t feeling. “No, it’s just that—” She broke off, not knowing how to say this. “He’s . . . he’s . . .” She couldn’t say it.

  “Is it because you finally realized he’s dead?”