My Favorite Husband Read online

  “Noooo. . . .”

  “Then what’s the problem?” He reached over to take her in his arms. “Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

  “I just—”

  The phone rang and she sighed in relief. Saved by the bell.

  Then she froze, wondering who it could be. Her mother, calling to find out what happened? His friends, calling to spread the news of Chaz’s miraculous return? Or Chaz himself?

  Suddenly sober, she lurched toward the phone, hoping to catch it first, but Spencer had already answered it.

  “Hello, Scott. Yes, I’m fine. What can I do for you?”

  She relaxed a little, but not much. With Chaz’s corrupting influence, who knew what Scott would take it in his mind to do. Or say.

  She waited breathlessly as Spencer listened for a minute, then handed the phone to her. “It’s for you.”

  Releasing her breath in relief, she said, “Hello, Scott? What’s going on?”

  “Chaz is chomping at the bit here,” Scott said. “Have you told Spencer yet?”

  She gave Spencer a sickly smile. “No. . . .”

  “Well, do it soon,” Scott said. “Before Chaz does something we’ll all regret.”

  “Okay.”

  Scott hung up, but Kelly held onto the phone a while longer, not willing to give up the security it represented. But she could think of nothing else to say, so she carefully placed the receiver in its cradle.

  “What’s wrong?” Spencer asked with concern. “Did something happen to Scott?”

  “No.” But Chaz would happen to Spencer if she didn’t do something, quick.

  “Your mother?”

  She started to say no, then caught herself. What a great excuse. Given a little more time, she might even be able to find the perfect way to explain everything to Spencer without hurting his feelings. And decide what to do afterward. “There’s been . . . an emergency.”

  “What kind of emergency?”

  “I-I’m not sure,” Kelly said. The truth was, she was a very bad liar. At times like this, she wished she was as glib as Chaz. Gathering up her purse, she said, “I have to meet Scott.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Here,” she said without thinking.

  “Here? In the hotel?”

  Thinking rapidly, she said, “Yeees. . . .”

  “Why?”

  “Because . . . because he has to tell me something and didn’t want to do it on the phone.” There, that should work. “I’ll just . . . meet him down in the lobby, okay?”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  She put out a hand to stop him. “No.” That wouldn’t do at all.

  “Why not?”

  “I-I just want to do this myself, okay? I’ll let you know what’s going on right away.”

  He looked doubtful, but she knew he wouldn’t argue further. Giving him a kiss on the cheek, she opened the door and called out, “I’ll be right back.”

  Closing the door behind her, she cast a swift glance down the hallway. Good, no peeping toms. Quickly, she hurried to the elevator before they could open the door again and spot her. She just needed a little space to think, unencumbered by walking testosterone in any form.

  Once she was downstairs, she realized if she didn’t do something, Chaz might charge in on Spencer, so she called Scott’s room. Luckily, Scott answered. “I’m downstairs,” she said in a rush. “I haven’t told Spencer yet, but I need some time to think about how to do this without hurting him.” Like she hadn’t already done that by acting like a crazy woman.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I-I’m going to get a room by myself. Once I figure out what to do, I’ll call you. Wait a little while until I’m in a new room, then tell Chaz so he doesn’t do anything dumb, okay?”

  “Okay, if you’re sure. . . .”

  “I am. I just need a little more time.”

  “All right, Kell. Take care, and call me if you need anything.”

  “Thank you,” she said in real relief. It was so much easier dealing with him than Chaz.

  With a sigh, she turned toward the registration desk, then stopped. Damn. The only person on duty was that same Mr. Billings. Well, there was nothing else to do but brave it out—she couldn’t lurk here forever waiting for the shift to change. So, she marched up to the desk.

  He smiled warily and asked, “How may I help you?”

  “I’d like a room, please.” She fixed him with a glare, hoping it would deter him from asking questions.

  “Is there something wrong with the honeymoon suite?”

  “No. I’d just like a different room.” She handed him a credit card.

  “And your husband?”

  “He’ll stay in the honeymoon suite,” she said with another glare, daring him to say anything else.

  Unfortunately, he took that dare. “I . . . see. And your other husband?”

  Smart-ass.

  “He has a room of his own.” And before he could ask about Scott, she said, “And so does my brother.” Raising her chin and letting the temperature drop in her voice, she said, “I want a room of my own. Do you think you can manage that? Or do you have a problem with women staying alone in your hotel?”

  That made him lower his insolent gaze. “Of course not, ma’am.” Without any more ado, he passed over a key and her credit card.

  But as she turned to leave, she suddenly realized she needed his help. “Oh,” she said airily. “Just one more thing. You won’t tell anyone where I am, will you?”

  He raised a supercilious eyebrow again. “No one?”

  “No one,” she repeated. Then knowing that she really did need to get this man on her side, she added confidingly, “It’s just that I have the jitters and need someplace—alone—to work through them. You understand, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am. Of course,” he said with a fake toothy smile.

  Well, that was the best she could hope for, for now. She just had one more unpleasant duty to do, then she could relax. She decided to call Spencer from the lobby before he came after her. Once she got him on the phone, she blurted out, “There’s something I have to tell you, but I don’t know how to do it, so I’m going to spend some time alone until I figure out how to do it right.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll call you again in the morning, if not before.” Then she hung up before he could say anything more and headed toward the elevator once more. But once she reached the elevator bank, she caught sight of a familiar female figure coming in the door.

  Oh no, it was Candace—their boss. What was she doing here?

  Kelly hid behind a tall potted palm and peered out. Sure enough, it looked like she was registering to stay. Since two of her senior editors were taking their honeymoon, Candace had decided to close the office and let everyone have a holiday for a week, saying she was going away to pamper herself . . . but Kelly had no idea they’d end up in the same hotel!

  And she certainly didn’t want to call attention to herself or answer questions at this point. So, she darted for the open elevator, hoping Candace wouldn’t notice her. Once inside, Kelly held her fingers to aching temples.

  Ohmigod, what else can go wrong? So far, she had one husband in the honeymoon suite, one at the other end of the hall with her brother, a boss down below, and she was about to spend her wedding night alone. Could it get any worse?

  She glanced down at the key and groaned. Apparently, it could. The oh-so-helpful Mr. Billings had given her another room all right . . . on the third floor along with the rest of them.

  4

  Chaz paced around Scott’s room, anxious to get out, to do something—anything. On one pass, Chaz caught sight of Scott’s expression and scowled. Damn it, the man was amused at his expense.

  Chaz stopped dead, his voice oozing sarcasm. “I’m soooo glad you’re entertained.”

  Scott just grinned. “Does pacing help?”

  “It doesn’t hurt.” And he had to work off this excess energy someh
ow. Especially since it appeared Kelly wasn’t going to let him take care of it the way he had planned. “Tell me again what she said.”

  “She said she was going to get a room. By herself.”

  Chaz wanted to hit something to relieve his frustration, but contented himself with raking his hands through his hair. “And she didn’t say what room she was in?”

  Scott gave him a sympathetic look. “No—I think she wants to be alone for awhile.”

  This wasn’t going at all like Chaz planned. And it was all that food editor’s fault. “Damn it, why can’t she just tell him?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Scott drawled. “You think it might be just a tad difficult?”

  Chaz dropped into the other chair. “All she has to do is say ‘I can’t sleep with you because my real husband is alive.’”

  When Scott just raised an eyebrow, Chaz waved away his silent objection. “I know, I know. It’s not that easy. I’m just—” He broke off, unwilling to say it aloud for fear the actual words would give his apprehension more weight.

  “You’re afraid she’s having second thoughts and won’t pick you,” Scott said softly.

  Damn. It sounded just as bad as he thought. Fear, anxiety, and frustration all roiled through him in one big seething nauseous wave. Chaz dropped his head into his hands to keep Scott from seeing the raw emotions on his face. “Yes,” he whispered, laying his soul bare with that one simple word.

  Everyone else in his entire family had always tried to change him, make him into something he was not, something he could never be—normal, boring. Kelly was his touchstone, the one person who understood him, the one person who loved him for himself. Or so he had always assumed. Had he lost that? Had he lost her?

  “She always put me first,” he murmured. And that was one thing he desperately needed. No one else had—he always came in a poor second or tenth, his needs and desires rendered unimportant in the noisy chaos that was his family, their love forever hedged with conditions and qualifiers.

  When Scott made a small sound, Chaz glanced up. “I know what you’re going to say, and you’re wrong. It’s not selfish. I put her first, too.”

  “Do you.” It was more of a statement than a question.

  “She’s the most important person in my life,” Chaz declared. “She comes first with me, always.” Everyone deserved to have someone who felt that way about them, no one more so than Kelly.

  “Except when you’re leaving her. . . .”

  “But that’s my job. That’s what I do.”

  “No—that’s your choice, but it doesn’t give Kelly much of one, does it?”

  Don’t tell me even Scott is trying to change me now. “What the hell do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to do what’s best for my sister.”

  “And what’s that?” Chaz demanded. “Or should I ask, who’s that? Are you saying that other guy is best for her?” God, he hated to ask the question, hated to sound so damned needy. But he really wanted to know the answer.

  Scott shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s her decision. And it sounds like that’s what she’s trying to do right now—make that decision.”

  Chaz couldn’t stand it. How could she make such a huge choice without talking to him, without letting him explain how much he loved her? Hell, if he had to bare his soul to keep her, he’d do it. “If only I could talk to her.”

  Scott gave him an odd look. “What’s stopping you?”

  “The small fact that I don’t know where she is?”

  “Well, I know you’ve been out of touch for five years,” Scott said with a half grin, “but there’s this new invention called the telephone. . . .”

  “But you have her cell phone.”

  “She also has one in her room.”

  I’m an idiot.

  No, in his own defense, Chaz had to admit that his years in the jungle had made him out of practice with modern amenities. Without a word, he dashed out of Scott’s room and fumbled with the key to his own until the door finally opened. He didn’t want to talk to Kelly in front of her brother.

  Grabbing the phone, he dialed the hotel operator. “Hello, can I speak to Kelly Vincent?”

  There was a pause, then the woman said, “I’m sorry, but we have no one registered by that name.”

  Annoyed, Chaz realized she must be registered under that other man’s name. Did that mean she considered herself married to him and not Chaz? Suddenly insecure, he said, “Try Kelly—” He broke off, sinking onto the bed as he tried to remember the man’s last name. Presley? Spencer? Reston? No, it was Preston. “Try Kelly Preston.”

  “Yes, sir. Just a moment, please, I’ll connect you.”

  Chaz didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Kelly answered on the third ring with an apprehensive, “Hello?”

  “Hi, honey,” Chaz said softly. He panicked, wondering what he should do now. With no plan, he wasn’t sure exactly what to do or say, but he knew attacking her wasn’t a good idea.

  “Chaz?”

  Damn, didn’t she know her own husband’s voice? But he didn’t allow his annoyance to show in his tone. “Yes, it’s me. How are you?”

  She paused, then said, “Confused.” Before he could ask anything else, she added in a rush, “I’m sorry, I just couldn’t tell him.”

  “I knew you were too soft-hearted.”

  “What are you saying, Chaz? That you told me so?”

  “No, no,” he protested, trying to dispel the irritation in her tone. “It’s one of the things I love about you.”

  When she said nothing, he added in a softer tone, “I just want to see you, touch you, hold you.”

  “Oh, Chaz,” she breathed.

  Encouraged by this sign she might be relenting, he said, “It’s been a long time. I was faithful to you, too, you know.” And that was despite some very heavy temptation.

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “Can I come to your room so we can talk?”

  “No, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”

  Chaz scowled and punched the pillow. He wanted to demand to know why not, but knew it would get him nowhere. “I just wondered—” He broke off, discarded several other frustrated questions, then finally blurted out the one at the forefront of his mind. “Will you pick me?”

  God, that sounds pitiful. What woman in her right mind would choose such a pansy ass?

  “Oh, Chaz . . .” she said again, this time with a sigh.

  In desperation, he tried to understand her tone. Was that love and melting he heard . . . or sorrow laced with pity? Who knew? Why didn’t women and feelings come with manuals, fergawdsakes?

  Not knowing what else to do, he chose a neutral response. “Yeah?” Then hit himself in the thigh. Great, just great. She wouldn’t choose him for his intellectual brilliance, that was for sure.

  “I—I don’t know.”

  So he was wrong on both counts. That was definitely indecision mixed with helplessness. He felt for her, he really did, but there was no time to coddle her feelings right now. First, she had to make the right decision, then he’d let her wallow in any feelings she wanted. “Is there anything I can do to help? A hug, maybe? A little loving?”

  A whole lotta down and dirty sex . . . ?

  “No, no,” she said hastily. “That would be too distracting.”

  Well, yeah. That was the point. “Well, what if—”

  “No,” she said, interrupting with the word he was getting tired of hearing. “I need to figure this out by myself. With no interference from you or Spencer.”

  “But—”

  “No buts, Chaz. You’re not helping your case any. I’ll call you in the morning. And don’t call me again tonight—I’m going to tell the hotel to refuse all calls.”

  He had to try one last time. “But—” It was too late. She had already hung up.

  Now what? Accepting failure was not an option. What could he do to change her mind, to let her know he’d do anything to get her
back? He needed to think.

  He stood up to pace again, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror over the dresser. Good Lord, he looked like an utter barbarian, especially in this refined setting. No wonder she was apprehensive.

  Chaz ran a hand over his beard thoughtfully. Well, the first thing he could do was get rid of this facial hair. Kelly didn’t like it, and to tell the truth, he was rather tired of it himself. Yes, that would help.

  Jazzed by the thought of taking positive action, Chaz made a quick trip to the gift shop and picked up a range of toiletries as well as some clothes. He even made a stab at trying to pry Kelly’s whereabouts out of Billings, but the guy managed to somehow sneer his contempt and disapproval without losing his polite facade. Worse, he wouldn’t reveal a damned thing—he was about as helpful and responsive as a slab of granite. No, that was giving granite a bad name. Even it had some character.

  Chaz returned to his room and made short work of shaving off his beard. It made the lower half of his face look a little paler than the rest, but he could live with that, now that Kelly wouldn’t have to worry about whisker burn.

  Okay, now what? He tried to call her again, but she’d made good on her promise to have the hotel refuse all calls. So, that option was out. If only he could just see her. . . .

  But how could he find out where she was? He couldn’t exactly go around knocking on every door in the place. And, without knowing what floor she was on, hanging out in the hallways was bound to be fruitless.

  Unfortunately, that snob Billings was still on duty at the desk, so learning anything that way was out, too. But he could wait until Billings went off shift and hope for a more affable desk clerk. Okay, when was shift change? It didn’t matter, he’d just go downstairs and wait them out.

  As Chaz passed the registration desk, Billings gave Chaz the once-over, obviously not impressed by his fresh, clean-shaven look. Concerned Billings might call hotel security if he lingered in the lobby, Chaz veered toward the hotel’s bar across the way. Perfect. No one would question the amount of time he spent there.

  The only problem was, there was only one table where he could see the front desk, and it was already occupied by a classy-looking blonde who toyed with a glass of white wine. Chaz ordered a beer at the bar, then debated his options. It looked like the blonde had settled in for the duration.