His E-Mail Order Wife Read online

  She settled on the sofa in the den; he took the lounge chair across from her. Avoiding his gaze, she surveyed the silent room, allowing him to assess her unassuming attire of plain white sandals and sleeveless coral dress that revealed not much more than arms and ankles. Her skin was bronze in coloring, surprising, considering her long dark auburn hair. She was tall, probably close to six feet, and nothing at all like the women he usually dated.

  Kristina Simmons was a throwback to a time when women were women, with ample breasts and generous curves that left no doubt about their gender. However, she tried to conceal those attributes behind loose-fitting clothes, probably because that look was no longer in vogue, thanks to the assumption that a woman had to be emaciated to be attractive. But Drew could imagine every fine detail. Man, could he imagine, and he needed to stop doing that immediately before he embarrassed himself.

  Kristina’s big brown eyes proved to be one of her most notable features, eyes that had frozen him in his tracks when he’d first seen her standing in his foyer. Eyes that assessed him now and then while he considered what he needed to say.

  “Did you have any trouble finding the house?” Lame, but he couldn’t think of anything beyond small talk at the moment, especially when his gaze kept drifting to her full lips.

  “Not at all. You give great directions.” Her sudden smile revealed white teeth that contrasted with her golden coloring. It was also wan, self-conscious. “Your house is beautiful. So is your daughter.”

  So was Kristina Simmons, in a natural, unsullied way, Drew decided. She didn’t wear much makeup. She didn’t have to. Her skin was flawless, her lashes thick and long, fanning against her cheeks when she lowered her eyes, as she did at that moment.

  “Mandy’s a great kid,” he said. “Precocious, I guess you could say.”

  “Intelligent, I’d say.” She grabbed up the decorative pillow next to her and hugged it to her chest, her eyes fixed on some focal point to her right. “Okay, so what did you want to tell me?”

  He knew what he needed to tell her—this whole ridiculous scheme had been masterminded by his grandmother. But the way Kristina looked at the moment, unsure and circumspect, he didn’t have the heart to blurt out the revelation. He’d have to ease into it gradually. “I think we should talk about this arrangement.”

  She tossed the pillow aside and scooted to the edge of the sofa, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, and met his gaze head-on. “Look, I’ll make this easy on you. I realize you’re surprised by my appearance, and I know you said in your e-mails that it didn’t matter. But I can certainly understand why you might not find me suitable.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, a good-looking rich guy like you could have any woman he pleases. A woman who would be, shall we call it, more svelte, delicate. Thin.”

  That didn’t set well with Drew. Inaccurate assumptions about him never did. “Do you really think I’m that superficial?”

  “I really don’t know what to think. I wasn’t exactly expecting you.”

  That made two of them. He hadn’t counted on her either, a woman who had his imagination working overtime. “What were you expecting?”

  “Honestly?”

  “I think that’s probably best.” Although he had yet to be honest with her.

  “I was expecting someone a little more—”

  “Homely?”

  “Plain.”

  “So was I.”

  A slight splotch of pink colored her cheeks and she grabbed the pillow again. “At least one of us wasn’t wrong.”

  How could she say that? Didn’t she realize that she had a simple beauty a man would have to be dead not to notice? Not to mention she’d made a connection with Mandy immediately. How many times had he hoped to see that happen with any of the women he’d introduced to his daughter? More times than he could count, and it hadn’t happened—until now. Maybe Lilly was right. Maybe he’d been looking in the wrong places. But the Internet?

  Regardless, he had no intention of getting caught in the matrimony trap any time soon. He’d tried that once and it had been one of the most devastating experiences of his life. Amanda was the only good thing to come out of it.

  But how could he tell Kristina Simmons that he wasn’t interested without making it seem as though her looks had something to do with it? How could he explain it to his daughter, who had looked at Kristina with open worship, without destroying her completely?

  Damn Lilly for putting him in this predicament without regard to Amanda’s feelings. Or Kristina’s. If he sent Kristina on her way now, he might lead her to believe that he was as superficial as she’d assumed. Not to mention he’d have to deal with his grandmother’s and his daughter’s wrath. Now what was he going to do?

  Then something occurred to him. Maybe he could subtly convince Kristina that this wasn’t going to work out. Maybe he could totally turn her off, let it be her idea to leave. That was a better plan. A great plan.

  First, he’d start with a leer. God knew he’d seen it done enough times in the office when one of the male staff members had the hots for one of the secretaries. If that didn’t scare her off, then she was a lot tougher than he’d presumed. “Well, Kristina, I think you’re an exceedingly attractive woman.” Hell, he sounded like a bad impression of Dudley Watts, Connelly Corporation’s resident lecher.

  Unfortunately, Kristina found the fringe on the pillow more interesting than his attempt at being seedy. “Thank you.”

  “And I’m looking forward to us getting to know each other better.” At least he sounded a little more suave. Less Dudley, anyway.

  She glanced up from the pillow, surprise in her expression. “Then you’re saying we should go ahead with this arrangement?”

  “Unless that’s a problem for you?”

  Her gaze faltered once again. “No. I agreed to do this, and I think we should give it a try.”

  So much for his first attempts to discourage her. He would just have to try harder to convince her that he had questionable intentions. “Do you need help moving your things?”

  “Everything I own is in my car.”

  “You’ve been living in your car?”

  That earned Drew a smile. “Not hardly. My lease ran out on my apartment this week, so when you asked me to move in, I decided not to renew. I guess you could say that this couldn’t have come at a better time.”

  Now Drew felt even worse. If he put her out, she’d be—for all intents and purposes—homeless. Back to plan A—dubious overtures. He leaned forward and attempted a come-on look, although his face felt stiff with the effort. “I think you’ll find my bed more than comfortable.”

  She leaned forward, too, seeming oddly relaxed. “Really, Drew, you don’t have to give up your room. As I told you before, the guest room will be fine.”

  He sat back. “You think we should have separate bedrooms?”

  “Of course, exactly what you proposed in the e-mail. I agree with you that we shouldn’t even consider that kind of intimacy with Amanda living in the house.”

  Lilly had obviously set him up for sainthood. If he told Kristina he’d changed his mind, that he wanted her in his bed—not exactly an unappealing thought—then he’d definitely look like a class-A jackass. He couldn’t go quite that far…yet. “Just checking to see if we’re on the same page with this.”

  “We are,” she said. “I believe we need a lot more time before taking that step in our relationship.”

  So much for plan A. “Tell me more about yourself,” he said in hopes of coming upon something else to convince her to steer clear of him.

  “I’m not sure what I can say that I haven’t said in my e-mails.”

  Drew realized she had a definite advantage there. “I’m sure you can think of something. You can’t know everything about someone in a few e-mails.”

  “We exchanged fifty.”

  Fifty? His grandmother seriously needed to find another hobby. “That many, huh?”
<
br />   “Yes, I counted them. I also kept them.”

  Drew made a mental note to try and retrieve them from his inbox later, if Lilly hadn’t destroyed the evidence of her deceitful doings. “Which was your favorite e-mail?”

  Her great smile traveled all the way to her coffee-colored eyes. “Let me think. I believe it’s the one where you told me one of your favorite books was Wuthering Heights.”

  “I bet that surprised you.” Sure as hell surprised him since he’d never read the book. But Lilly had. His grandmother knew no shame.

  “To be honest,” Kristina continued, “I think Heathcliff was a bit too tortured.”

  Heathcliff had nothing on Drew at the moment. “He was, uh, unique.”

  “And tortured. That’s why I’m surprised you also like romantic comedies.”

  Drew nearly choked on that one, yet it also led to another idea. Maybe if he could convince her that he hadn’t been forthcoming with the truth about his tastes, she’d decide to leave immediately. “Actually, I was only trying to impress you. I really prefer Tom Clancy.”

  Her grin widened. “Really? So do I. I love military thrillers.”

  So much for that strategy. “Did I tell you that I like sports?”

  “No, we didn’t discuss that.”

  Finally, something to work with. “Well, I do. Friday through Sunday when I’m home. Whatever’s on the tube. But my favorite is wrestling.” That ought to do it.

  It didn’t. Kristina looked pleased, excited even. “I am so glad to hear that. I adore wrestling. The Mangler is my favorite. Don’t you just love that crazy hat he wears? And when he takes on that woman, what’s her name?”

  Drew had no clue. He’d never watched wrestling, either. “I can’t remember at the moment. I’m still pretty jet-lagged.”

  Kristina’s dark brows drew down into a frown. “Jet-lagged? I didn’t know you’ve been out of town.”

  “Europe. For the past month.”

  “You sent all those e-mails from Europe?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  The lies were getting deeper and deeper. If Drew knew what was good for him, for her, he’d put a stop to this now. He’d tell Kristina the truth. He’d quit staring at her dark eyes, her fingers dancing over the pillow, her tempting lips now parted in surprise, and just blurt it out.

  Then she added, “That’s so sweet, Drew. I had no idea. Surely that cost you quite a bit of money, connecting to the Internet in Europe. You shouldn’t have gone to all that trouble for me.”

  She sounded as if he’d sent her a Monet, not an e-mail. How could he tell her the truth now? He couldn’t.

  Besides, after seeing the nanny off at dawn with good riddance, he had no one to care for his daughter. It might take the better part of a month to find a decent replacement. Kristina was obviously good with kids, and Amanda liked her. In the meantime, he could pretend he was going along with this arrangement and try to come up with more ways to discourage her. Simple enough, except for one minor problem: He was more than a little attracted to her. However, he didn’t intend to let that deter him from his goal.

  Standing, he said, “Let’s get you settled in.”

  Kristina rose from the sofa, spanned the distance between them, and drew him into an unexpected hug. Her full breasts pressed against his chest. She smelled fresh, clean, felt warm against him. Good. Too good. His hands traveled to the dip at her spine. It took all his strength not to travel lower, mold his hands to her hips, pull her closer, kiss her thoroughly.

  Then she said, “Thanks, Drew,” in a silky voice, deep and slightly raspy. Drew immediately reacted to the sound, becoming steel-hard below his belt, and he wondered what she would sound like when he made love to her.

  When he made love to her?

  He quickly stepped back, out of her inviting embrace, away from dangerous thoughts. He had no business entertaining those fantasies, not if he wanted to put an end to this charade. He had to be strong, keep his hands and mouth to himself. No problem. He could do that.

  “Let me show you to bed, Kristina.” Damn. “Your bedroom, I mean.”

  After settling in to the guest quarters downstairs, a rose-colored suite straight out of a designer’s dream, Kristina sat cross-legged on the floor in Amanda’s lavender, frill-filled room surrounded by enough toys to stock a department store. She and Amanda were dressing two fashion dolls while Drew showered and dressed in the room down the hall, something Kristina dared not think about.

  Not after that hug. Not after her unexpected reaction to Drew Connelly’s arms wrapped around her.

  For the first time in years, she’d experienced true chemistry. And she couldn’t help but think Drew had experienced it, too. Or at least she thought he had.

  Heaven help her, one innocuous hug and she was already considering things she had no cause to consider. Not until they knew each other better. Then whatever happened, happened. Still, she couldn’t stop thinking about him, what it would be like to kiss him…

  “Do you like my daddy?”

  Amanda’s sudden query drew Kristina out of her stupor. “Well, honey, so far I like your daddy, but we don’t really know each other all that well. That’s why I’m here.”

  Amanda nodded. “And to play with me.”

  She touched the tip of Amanda’s upturned nose. “Yes, sweetie, and to play with you.”

  Amanda brought out the second case full of doll clothing and rummaged through it. “My mommy died,” she said, sounding almost matter-of-fact.

  Drew had told Kristina in the e-mails that he was a widower, but he’d provided no details other than that his wife had passed away years ago. “Do you remember your mommy, Mandy?”

  She shrugged. “No. But Nana Lilly says I look like her.”

  Kristina reached out and brushed back the fringed bangs resting on Amanda’s forehead. “Do you think so?”

  She shrugged again. “I don’t know what she looks like.”

  “You haven’t seen any pictures?”

  “Daddy doesn’t have any pictures.”

  Kristina’s chest constricted with sadness. Obviously Drew’s wife’s death had been so painful that he’d tucked away the reminders. But had he tucked away the memories? Was he still pining for Amanda’s mother? Was that the reason for his loneliness?

  Still, Amanda deserved to know such an important part of her history. Not knowing couldn’t be good for a child, yet Kristina realized it wasn’t her place to remind Drew of that fact. Not yet, anyway. “Maybe you should ask Daddy to see a picture, Mandy.”

  Amanda handed Kristina a tiny wedding dress. “It’s okay. You can be my mommy now.”

  Kristina sighed. What had she gotten herself into? What if this didn’t work out with Drew? A woman Amanda considered to be a mother figure, when she seemed to need one so badly, would once again leave her.

  But it didn’t have to be that way.

  Despite her concerns, Kristina chose to be optimistic and hope that things would work out between her and Drew. And if they did, then perhaps she could be a mother for Amanda and a wife to Drew. If only she felt more confident that would happen.

  Amanda held up the boy doll, now dressed in a miniature tuxedo. “This is Drew.”

  Amanda was a daddy’s girl, through and through, Kristina realized. Not surprising since he was all that she had, and vice versa.

  Kristina finished dressing her unrealistic curvaceous doll in a white satin bridal gown. “And what shall we call her?”

  “Kristina. She’s going to marry my daddy.” Amanda made the declaration with certainty and a sweet smile, with optimism afforded by her youth. If only Kristina could be so sure.

  Amanda took both of the dolls, held them up, and said, “I announce you man and wife,” then pressed them face-to-face and made kissing noises.

  “Short ceremony,” Kristina said with a laugh.

  “Maybe Barbie and Ken are ready for the honeymoon.”

  Drawn to the sound of the compelling voice, Kristina glanced
toward the door to find Drew leaning against the frame wearing a navy polo shirt and white casual pants, his wavy dark hair combed neatly into place. He also wore a grin, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. Kristina immediately responded to his presence with warmth, with wistfulness when she realized his smile was for his daughter, not for her.

  “They’re not Barbie and Ken, Daddy,” Amanda said, sounding thoroughly put out. “It’s Drew and Kristina.”

  Drew strolled into the room, hands in pockets. The scent of woodsy cologne caressed Kristina as he crouched beside Amanda. “I’ve got to go to the office for a while, so give Daddy a kiss, sweetheart.” He pointed at his now clean-shaven cheek, and it took everything in Kristina not to comply, though she knew he was talking to his daughter.

  Amanda frowned. “Can’t you play with me and Kristina, Daddy?”

  He centered his blue-flame eyes and knowing grin on Kristina. “Maybe we can play later tonight.”

  Kristina’s pulse did double time over the double entendre. He kept staring at her, as if awaiting a response she wasn’t capable of giving. From the sexy look on his face and the sensual promise in his voice, she could tell his idea of playing had nothing to do with dressing dolls. More like undressing each other. Or maybe she was simply wishing…

  He finally broke their shared gaze and turned his attention to Amanda. “I’ll be back after lunch.”

  “Okay, Daddy. But hurry.” Amanda finally gave in and gave him a loud smack on his cheek.

  Drew straightened and addressed Kristina again, this time with a noncommittal expression. “If you don’t mind feeding her lunch, there’s some sandwich fixings in the fridge. Make yourself at home.”

  “I will,” she said, although plain Kristina Simmons from Wisconsin doubted she’d ever feel at home with the oh-so-sexy Drew Connelly.

  This was the one time Drew had had no choice but to leave for the office when it wasn’t completely job-related.

  Blowing out a frustrated sigh, he kicked back in the chair at his desk in the seventeenth-floor office at Connelly Towers, home to the textile-manufacturing corporation his grandfather had established and his father had molded into a prestigious multi-million-dollar business. Two hours before, Kristina Simmons had given him a simple hug that had set his body to blazing. One hour before, she’d looked entirely at home in Amanda’s bedroom, playing dolls with his daughter. She’d also looked entirely too sexy with her legs crossed and her skirt hiked up, inadvertently giving him a nice glimpse of tanned thigh, the reason why he’d hightailed it out of there at breakneck speed, trying hard to escape the images of running his hands up those thighs—and higher.