Susan Mallery - Wife in Disguise

Embarrassment cut through her, making her face flame. She busied herself opening her own can of soda. “No. Why would that be a problem?”

“Because I said too much. I rarely talk about my marriage or my divorce. I guess once I got started, it all sort of spilled out. I made her sound like the wicked witch of the west, which isn’t fair. Plus-” He leaned toward her, resting his elbows on his knees. “The way I ranted and all, I didn’t want you to think there was still anything between us. I’m really over her.”

“Oh, good,” she managed.

Josie felt weak with humiliation. She hadn’t thought it could get worse with Del, yet here it was, falling apart even more.

He sighed. “I’m saying this all wrong. She’s not a bad person. I didn’t mean to imply that. She was always honest and prompt.”

If she’d been able to get up and run, Josie would have done it in a microsecond. Down the stairs and out of the house, never to be heard from again. Honest and prompt? Was that the best he could do? His attempts to make her feel better were falling far short of the mark.

“You make her sound like a German shepherd,” she said with a little more force than she would have liked. “Could she fetch the paper, too?”

Del straightened. “I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?”

She wanted to scream “Yes!” but didn’t. Instead she sipped her drink and tried to calm down.

“Josie was a lot of good things,” he said carefully. “She was fearless about physical danger and always pushed herself. If there was a sport she wasn’t good at, she worked until she excelled. She didn’t care about the time, the energy or the pain. She just went for it.”

Josie didn’t want to hear this, either. If she’d been physically capable of curling up in a small ball and hugging her knees to her chest, she would have done it. His words made her feel small and broken. The few things Del still admired about her were tied to a body she didn’t have anymore. She was an idiot to have come back to Beachside Bay. Better to have stayed in Los Angeles and forgotten all about him.

But she couldn’t curl up and she couldn’t run. So she forced herself to shift so that she was sitting on the side of the bed. She put her can of soda on the nightstand.

“She sounds like quite an athlete,” she told him. “All that exercise. She must have been in great shape.”

“She was. Josie probably could have taken me if she’d tried.”

He grinned as he spoke. She tried to smile, as well.

“At least your sex life was great,” she said, thinking it was a small consolation, but at this point she was going to take whatever she could get.

Del didn’t say anything. It took her a couple of seconds to realize he seemed very interested in his soda and wasn’t responding to her statement. Her stomach dropped to her toes and every last ounce of self-worth evaporated like mist in the sun.

“Don’t tell me that was horrible, too,” she blurted before she could stop herself.

“Not horrible,” he said quickly. “It was fine. At times it was even amazing. It’s just…” His voice trailed off.

She wanted to die. Right there, sitting on the side of the bed. She wanted the world to end and take her along. She wanted to be anywhere but here, hearing anything but this. It was too much. How could he be saying the sex hadn’t been fabulous? Didn’t he remember all the things they’d done together? She’d always been open to new positions and new places. She’d been strong and limber, a combination he’d claimed to appreciate. Had he been lying?

“I’m not sure how to explain this,” he said slowly, avoiding her gaze.

She wanted to tell him not to bother, but she was afraid if she spoke, her voice would crack. Then he would want to know what was wrong, and she couldn’t think of any response to that.

“Josie was physically perfect and we had sex a lot. Most of the time it was everything a man could ask for. But sometimes it was empty.”

She blinked. “Empty? I don’t understand.”

Del shifted uncomfortably. As if he were embarrassed. “I know guys are supposed to be into quantity rather than quality, but it wasn’t like that for me. There were times I wanted to be tender and she didn’t. Josie wasn’t one to cuddle. She wasn’t into emotional connection. We had sex a lot, but we rarely made love.”

Worse and worse, she thought, too stunned to do more than keep breathing through the pain. He’d laid her bare and found her wanting in every aspect possible. For the first time in a long time, she found herself fighting tears. She who never cried. But this wound went too deep. It cut down to the very essence of her being, hurting her more than any of her surgeries. She had nothing left. She’d been an awful wife, a lousy lover and a horrible person. Why had he ever married her?

She wanted to excuse herself, but she knew she didn’t have the strength to walk away. Even her cane couldn’t help because her legs felt as if they would never support her weight again. She’d been so incredibly stupid to come back. She’d been harboring secret fantasies about her ex-husband while he’d been counting his blessings at getting rid of her.

Del watched the play of emotions across Rose’s face. She looked unnerved by what he’d said. Smooth, he thought grimly. Once again he’d blown it. Here he was with a beautiful woman, and how was he spending his time? Trashing his ex-wife. Could he be any more stupid?

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “That was insensitive and probably more information than you wanted.”

“No,” she said, her low voice a little thick. “It’s not that. I was just wondering what my ex-husband says when he talks about me.”

“I’m sure his opinion is completely different,” he assured her. “Because you’re different. I know we haven’t known each other long, Rose, but you’re nothing like my ex. You’re warm, caring, funny, gentle and very beautiful.”

She looked at him. Surprise filled her blue eyes. “You can’t mean any of that.”

“I mean every word.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then motioned to her legs. “I use a cane. I limp. There are scars everywhere. That’s not beautiful.”

Without planning the movement, he set his soda can on the floor and crossed to the bed. After sitting next to her, he turned so he could touch her face. As he stroked her cheek, he smiled.

“Can’t you see your injuries don’t matter? You are beautiful. It’s not just your face, but all of you.”

She parted her lips, but didn’t speak. They were so close. Her scent, the promise of her curves all called to him. He told himself to get away before he did something stupid. Not something he would regret, but definitely out of line for a contractor-client relationship.

But he didn’t want to stand and walk away from her. He wanted to be closer. He needed to feel her against him.

Slowly, so she would know what he was doing and have time to protest, he slipped his free hand around to rest on her back. He gently urged her forward, leaning into her at the same time. Carefully, deliberately, he lowered his mouth to hers. At the last second he paused, waiting for her to push him away.

Instead she touched his lips with hers.

She was soft and sweet, and he wanted to claim her instantly. Instead he forced himself to hold back. He kissed her gently, brushing against her tenderly. As he wrapped both his arms around her he was careful not to make any sudden movements. He knew that she spent a lot of her day in pain, and he wasn’t sure what parts of her might be tender.

He inhaled, breathing in the scent of her shampoo and floral perfume. There was another fragrance. Something subtle he couldn’t identify. It tugged at the corners of his mind in an almost familiar way. Something…

He forced the questions away. He didn’t want to think about anything but Rose. He brushed his mouth against hers, back and forth, exploring her, feeling her respond to him. Her breathing quickened. Her hands rested on his shoulders, then slid down his back. When she pulled him against her, he went willingly, wanting to feel her full breasts flatten against his chest.

With his eyes closed, his other senses sharpened. Desire grew inside of him. He lightly licked her bottom lip, testing to see if she wanted the kiss to continue. When her mouth parted for him, he felt a jolt of heat in his groin. Blood rushed south, making him uncomfortably aware of his need.

He slipped his tongue between her lips. As he did, he found his hands moving up and down her back in a way that was almost familiar. One of her hands moved up until her fingers tunneled through his hair. There was a rhythm to their movements. A familiar rhythm. Although he knew he was kissing Rose he was suddenly reminded of Josie.

Damn. Del opened his eyes to orient himself. He was with Rose. He was in her bedroom, kissing her. What the hell was Josie doing in his head?

He deepened the kiss in an effort to chase his ex-wife from his mind. In the three years she’d been gone, he’d never once thought of her while kissing another woman. But he was thinking of her now.

Rose, he told himself. Only Rose. The bodies were completely different. Rose was all curves-full breasts and hips. Her face, her hair, all of her. Rose.

Josie.

The thought intruded, breaking his concentration. Suddenly it was Josie’s taste, her scent, filling his mind. He broke the kiss and stumbled to his feet. Rose opened her eyes and looked at him. Those eyes. So blue. So much like Josie’s.

Anger and confusion filled him. Nothing made sense. He stared down at the woman in front of him, taking in her long, blond hair, her full, suddenly familiar mouth.

“Who are you?” he growled. “Who the hell are you?”

The question echoed in Josie’s ears. Who are you?