Two-Week Wife Read online

  Bianca frowned. Since that had always been the case, then why should what she was feeling for Adam be any different? Maybe it, too, was just a sexual attraction and would wear off after a while?

  She could not deny that seeing Adam on the television in that dashing tuxedo and on the arm of the stunning Sophie had lifted the wool from her eyes where his physical attractions were concerned. She’d begun looking at him with new eyes last night, and discovered an Adam she’d had no idea existed—an Adam who was more like the type of man she usually went for. Tall, well-built, strong and very macho.

  Bianca sighed and switched off the shower. Even to her own ears that sounded awfully shallow. Yet hadn’t she already decided this week that she was shallow? It was no wonder Adam no longer loved her. Living with her this past year had probably opened his eyes to the real Bianca, with all her shallowness and sexual superficiality.

  Still, he didn’t seem to mind sampling that sexual superficiality, did he? she thought savagely as she rubbed herself dry. He had taken outrageous advantage of her last night. He’d taken outrageous liberties as well! No doubt he expected more of the same tonight, and for the rest of her mother’s stay.

  Bianca’s heart began to pound at the prospect. As much as she would have liked to feel outrage, all she felt was an excited anticipation. Tonight could not come quickly enough.

  Bianca was not a girl to keep lashing herself over her own faults. Very well...so she was sexually shallow—weak as water where the pleasures of the flesh were concerned. It wasn’t entirely her fault this time. Who would have believed that the gawky boy who’d taken her virginity with such appalling ineptitude would develop into such a fantastic lover?

  Jealousy re-erupted when she thought of him doing all those things he’d done to her with Sophie. She could just about tolerate his not loving her, but she was not going to tolerate another woman in his life. Not while she was in his bed. No way!

  Bianca sashed a huge cream towel around her and stormed back out into the bedroom, her hands coming to rest on her hips as she ground to a halt.

  ‘I want to know about Sophie!’ she demanded hotly.

  Adam glanced up from where he was still sitting on the edge of the bed, sipping her glass of orange juice. ‘What about her?’ His bland tone infuriated her.

  ‘I hope you don’t think you’re going to be juggling the two of us. When I take a lover, I demand his exclusive attention.’

  His eyebrows lifted, but his expression remained irritatingly casual. ‘How nice for you. But I’m not your lover. I’m your pretend husband.’

  ‘Same thing.’

  ‘Oh, no, Bianca. Not at all. But, if it makes you feel better, be assured I won’t be sleeping with Sophie during these two weeks. I don’t think your mother would approve of my being absent from our marital bed at night, do you? And Sophie is not a day-time person. Besides, why would I want Sophie when you’re being so accommodating?’

  Bianca squirmed a little as she recalled just how accommodating she’d been. But any embarrassment was quickly replaced by a burst of defiance. Why should she feel ashamed of what they’d done together? Adam clearly didn’t.

  Bianca had never been one to abide by those double standards where sex was concerned, and she wasn’t about to start now. Being a hypocrite was not her style.

  She’d wanted Adam to make love to her last night and wasn’t going to pretend differently this morning—even if he was turning out to be a very different Adam from the one she’d always thought she’d known so well. This new Adam was not at all sweet, or touchingly in love with her. She doubted he was in love with any woman, the selfish, sexy rat!

  This realisation brought with it a sudden thought, and she eyed him suspiciously. ‘You never did intend asking Sophie to marry you, did you?’

  ‘No.’

  Just as she’d thought! “Then why did you say you were?’

  He stood up, shrugging. ‘It suited me to say so at the time.’

  ‘You mean you lied to me!’

  ‘Mmm, yes, it seems I did.’

  Bianca was shaken by his cool confession, and the small smile playing on his lips. Had she ever really known Adam? Where would the shocks end? Still...she had to admit that he’d suddenly become a very intriguing man to be around. And very exciting.

  ‘Will you be going back to her after this fort-night is over?’ she asked, shaken by how dreadful such a prospect made her feel.

  ‘Who knows? Maybe. It all depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘On you, Bianca. On you.’

  She stiffened when his hand snaked around her neck. He drew her slowly against him, his mouth covering hers with a confident possession which brought a moment’s indignant rebellion.

  But only a moment. She’d always been a sucker for aggressive lovemaking from men she wanted. Her lips parted beneath his as her pulse-rate kicked into overdrive.

  Yet, strangely, his kiss gradually grew gentler, and the soft sipping at her lips brought a sweet yearning to her soul which had her clinging to him and wanting him to just go on holding her and kissing her like that. There was no urgency for more. It was just him and her, together, in each other’s arms, loving each other with great tenderness. Bianca had never felt anything like it. It was just so beautiful.

  ‘Adam,’ she whispered shakily when his mouth finally lifted.

  ‘Mmm?’

  ‘I...I...’

  She stopped herself just in time from saying the silliest things. Lord, she really had to stop mistaking these warm, squishy feelings she was feeling for love. It was just another side to sex, she supposed, a softer side which she hadn’t explored as yet.

  Adam—especially this new Adam—would laugh if she started telling him she loved him, or promising she would always be there for him. She almost laughed at herself. Silly Bianca. As if she could ever promise a man that anyway.

  ‘Bianca? What were you going to say?’

  She ignored the sudden stab of dismay in her heart and smiled brightly into his suddenly watchful grey eyes.

  ‘I was just going to ask if Mum and I could come to the races with you today?’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘OH, NO I couldn’t possibly do something as energetic as go to the races today,’ May said when she finally surfaced around ten. ‘I’m wrecked. But you two go. No, I insist,’ she went on when Bianca started to object to that idea. ‘I’ll be fine here on my own. I’ll loll around watching TV, and then I’ll have a nap after lunch. What time do you think you’ll be home?’

  ‘The last race is at four-thirty,’ Adam said, ‘but I always leave before that. I’d say six should safely see us back. Would you like to go out for dinner tonight, May?’

  ‘Not tonight, thank you, Adam. But I’ll tell you what I would like...’

  ‘Your wish is my command.’

  ‘Some Chinese takeaway. No particular dish. I like just about everything Chinese.’

  ‘Done! We’ll bring a selection home with us.’

  May smiled at him. ‘That would be lovely.’

  Adam felt quite pleased at this outcome, though actually he’d had no intention of going to the races that day at all before Bianca had asked about his coming home last night. The previous Saturday’s results had taught him to give his system a rest for a while. It only worked well with top-class horses, it seemed, and they were all out on spells after the recent conclusion of the spring racing carnival, both in Melbourne and Sydney.

  But he rather fancied taking Bianca to the races, he thought as he got dressed. He often saw wellheeled businessmen there on a Saturday afternoon, with their latest dolly-birds on their arms. Most of them mistresses, no doubt. They just didn’t have that wifely look about their model figures and perfectly painted faces.

  He’d imagined Bianca as his mistress more than once in his darker moments. He’d fantasised about becoming filthy rich and buying her for himself with the sheer power of his millions. Her lack of desire for him hadn’t mattered in that
scenario. She would do whatever he wanted because he was paying her exorbitant amounts of money, dressing her in designer clothes and giving her lavishly expensive gifts of jewellery.

  Unfortunately, in reality Bianca was not too impressed with money, or designer clothes, or jewellery. The girl went around most of the time in shorts or jeans, her only jewellery a clunky black sports watch with which she could time her jogging. She had two androgynous-looking suits she wore to work—navy and black—mixed and matched with various cheap blouses and T-shirts. It was no wonder he had been startled to see her in something soft and feminine last night.

  Still, the present pretend situation allowed him some leeway when it came to buying her things, and he didn’t have to buy her desire now. He already had that. Amazingly.

  This thought brought with it an elation and a boldness which, quite frankly, he was having difficulty in controlling. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t dare to do. There wasn’t anything he could not do, he decided as he pulled on a shirt.

  Except win her love, came that sly voice, and he stopped buttoning his shirt for a moment, a scowl sweeping his face.

  For a moment, this morning, he could have sworn Bianca had been going to tell him she loved him. He’d thought she’d felt the magic between them. But the magic had only been on his side, obviously.

  All she wants from you is sex, that rotten voice went on. You’ll go the same way as all the others eventually. Tossed in the garbage like a used tissue.

  Adam straightened, scowling some more.

  ‘I will not listen to you today,’ he muttered to himself. ‘You’re destructive. And depressing. I’m happy this morning, dammit. Just shut up.’

  ‘Talking to yourself, Adam?’

  Adam whirled, his expression wryly amused when he saw that Bianca had dressed in her usual weekend garb of jeans and sleeveless T-shirt. Since he himself always wore jeans to the races—hell, he was usually there to work at winning money, not a fashion-onthe-field award—he could understand her mistake. But that was not how they were going to arrive at Randwick today.

  ‘Just making a deal with the devil, darling,’ he told her, and her eyebrows lifted.

  ‘So that’s how you win at the races, is it? By the way, Mum thinks it’s rather odd that all my clothes are in the spare room, but I told her you had so much musty old junk in your wardrobe there wasn’t room for mine. Now, why in heaven’s name are you smiling at me like that? Is there something wrong with the way I look? You’re only wearing jeans!’

  ‘Too true. But I keep my racing clothes elsewhere. I’m going to change on the way, and you, my dear wife, will be changing with me.’

  He was delighted to see she was totally flummoxed at this announcement. He was also delighted that the presence of her mother in the flat precluded Bianca launching into an Aussie version of the Spanish inquisition.

  But peace only lasted till he bundled her into the BMW around eleven. No sooner had he pointed the car south, in the direction of the city, than she started.

  ‘Adam, I don’t like it when you keep secrets from me. I want to know—’

  ‘Why aren’t you playing netball this afternoon?’ he broke in, determined not to satisfy her very female curiosity.

  Her sigh was heavy. ‘If you’d been around lately, you’d know I played the finals of the netball season two months ago! And my team happened to win.

  Haven’t you seen the trophy on top of the television?’ she asked in a miffed tone.

  The place was full of sports trophies Bianca had won. He was proud of her achievements, but jealous at the same time. He would rather she played with him than a silly old netball.

  ‘Congratulations,’ he said drily. ‘But that doesn’t answer my question. Isn’t there a summer season?’

  ‘Yes, but it’s played at night because of the heat. I don’t like playing sport at night. Night-time is for other things.’

  ‘I’m sorry I asked,’ he muttered, though not sorry she wasn’t playing netball. He had other plans for Bianca this afternoon.

  ‘Adam, you still haven’t explained what you meant when you said we were going to change clothes on the way to the races. That is what you said, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Tell me, Bianca, do you ever regret not doing a degree in Physical Education, as you always planned to do?’

  She frowned her frustration at his changing the subject again. ‘No,’ she grumped, and folded her arms, obviously giving up on getting answers to her questions.

  Adam smiled. Bianca not getting her own way with him had an undeniable appeal. He didn’t think he would ever get tired of it.

  ‘You don’t miss being a sports mistress?’ he asked, before realising what he’d said. ‘Sports mistress’ rather described her to a tee.

  ‘I was very happy doing a business degree, thank you very much,’ she retorted. ‘If you remember rightly, there was no scholarship I could win for PE like I managed with business. Dad was dead by then and Mum was just making ends meet. A scholarship plus my part-time job at Franklins meant she didn’t have to spend every cent on my education and she had a bit left over for luxuries for herself for a change.’

  Adam sighed to himself. Just when he started thinking Bianca was a selfish chit he came face to face with her good qualities. She did so love her mother. And she wasn’t at all mean and selfish when it came to material things. To be honest, she was a good friend too. When she’d said she would have pretended to be his wife, if he’d asked her, she’d been quite sincere. She would have. Without giving it a second thought.

  ‘I was disappointed at first,’ Bianca admitted, warming to the conversation. ‘But I soon realised it didn’t really matter what degree I did. I could still indulge my passion for sport in my spare time. And uni life was fantastic! I’ve never had such a good time as I had during those three years. It was such fun, Adam, wasn’t it?’

  Fun! Adam scoffed silently. That was the bottom line where Bianca was concerned. Fun! Well, he was going to have fun this afternoon, and he just couldn’t wait!

  ‘Indeed it was,’ he agreed suavely, hiding his wicked intentions behind a wolf-like smile. ‘And we’re going to have more fun this afternoon. Trust me.’

  Bianca fell into a blinking, wide-eyed silence while Adam simply kept smiling, neither speaking till they arrived at North Sydney and he swung off the road, driving down a ramp into the underground car park of the high-rise building which housed the penthouse unit he owned.

  ‘I hope you’re finally going to tell me what on earth we’re doing here?’ she demanded to know, her silence quickly giving way to angry exasperation. ‘Unless Randwick Race Course has been dramatically picked up and moved indoors, I don’t think we’re at the races yet. Or is this the mysterious place where you keep your racing clothes?’ she asked tartly. ‘In a basement car park?’

  ‘Did anyone ever tell you, Bianca,’ he said smilingly as they both climbed out, ‘that you’re beautiful when you’re mad?’

  She rolled her eyes at him over the roof of the car and he laughed.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, and walked round to take her hand. ‘We haven’t got a lot of time.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For getting My Fair Lady ready for the races!’ he pronounced, and, totally ignoring the bewilderment on her face, he started dragging her towards the basement lift.

  The next hour was one of the best in Adam’s life.

  The building above them was not just an apartment block; it housed offices on the first few floors, with the ground floor being devoted to shops of all kinds. Most of these shops catered to the wealthy yuppy career woman, who possibly lived in the building or worked there.

  Adam headed for the most expensive and largest boutique, which had a make-up and hairdressing section attached, told one of the superbly groomed sales-ladies what he wanted done with Bianca—amazing how helpful the woman became when he slipped her a hundred-dollar bonus for herself—then left a still stunned Bianca in her undoubtedly capable hands
while he dashed upstairs to change into his grey silk-blend Italian suit.

  He returned just in time to see a strikingly madeup Bianca emerge from one of the dressing rooms, hair sleekly up.

  She did a double-take when she saw him standing there in his suit, but after a couple of frozen seconds she shrugged acceptance of the craziness of it all and started to parade herself for his inspection and approval.

  The cream trouser suit she was wearing was elegant, but not at all what he’d had in mind.

  ‘Well, Adam, darling?’ she said in a breathy voice as she catwalked her way around the heavily mirrored display area. Wickedly laughing blue eyes showed him she’d decided to join in the spirit of the dressing-up game. ‘What do you think?’

  He cocked his head on one side, looked her up and down, then coolly shook his head. ‘No. Cream doesn’t suit you.’

  She pouted prettily and gave the sales-lady a mock desolate look. ‘My husband doesn’t think cream suits me. Oh, dearie me, whatever will we do? Off with the cream and on with the new,’ she tossed back airily as she sashayed off to the dressing room.

  Adam smiled to himself. What a wicked little minx she was! But what a woman! It was no wonder he loved her. No other female he’d ever met compared with Bianca.

  She came back five minutes later in a slender red silk dress with a Chinese collar and slits up the sides. She looked exotic and pretty, yet oddly innocent, almost childlike as she paraded around in her bare feet, beaming at him. Clearly she liked herself in this dress, but it was not the look he wanted.

  He shook his head again. ‘Very nice, but I’d like to see her in black,’ he ordered. ‘Something short and tight. And some high heels, please. Black, with an ankle strap.’ He’d noted they had a pair like that in the small range of expensive and very sexy shoes on display in one corner of the shop.