Bride On Loan. Leigh Michaels
play of expressions cross her face. Now, he thought, they were getting somewhere.
“Face it, Sabrina—since it’s entirely your fault that I’m being subjected to this siege, it’s entirely your responsibility to do something about it.”
She slapped her hands against her thighs and stood up. “You know,” she said, “I think you’re right. Goodbye.”
Caleb blinked in surprise and tried to struggle into a sitting position. “Where do you think you’re going?”
She barely paused. “To the animal rescue league to see if they happen to have a Rottweiler with misogynistic tendencies. I’ll sign the adoption papers, deliver him to Jennings, and your problem will be solved by noon.”
“Sit down, Sabrina.”
“But it’s the perfect—”
His voice was silky. “Let’s talk about this business of yours.”
“Rent-A-Wife? What about it?” She sounded ever so slightly apprehensive.
“Do you and your partners want to continue to work with Tanner Electronics employees?” He saw the flicker of discomfort in her eyes and smoothly pressed his advantage. “Or shall we just call it one of those trial runs that unfortunately didn’t work out?”
She stopped in mid-step. Very slowly, as if she were walking to the guillotine, she returned to her chair and sat down. “When do I start?”
Satisfaction sizzled through Caleb. He hadn’t realized that being on the receiving end of total capitulation could be so enjoyable.
“Right now will be fine,” he said. “But I hope you don’t mind if we don’t shake on the deal, Sabrina. I’m going to need the use of both hands, and I really don’t want to take the chance of you messing one up.”
Sabrina’s fingers moved automatically, arranging the sheaf of flowers she’d brought in a tall glass vase, while she told herself that of course she’d done the only thing she could.
Faced with the threat of Rent-A-Wife losing its newest and single most substantive client, she hadn’t been left with much choice.
In fact, she thought, instead of growling over the idea of spending the foreseeable future waiting on Caleb Tanner hand and foot, she should probably be thanking her lucky stars that a maidservant was all he wanted. How stupid it had been to feel that flash of resentment at the idea that he didn’t find her physically attractive—for even though he’d sidestepped the question, there was no doubt in Sabrina’s mind that if he’d really found her desirable, he wouldn’t have hesitated to act on that feeling.
Her irritation had been almost an automatic reaction, of course—the kind of thing she would probably have felt for an instant no matter who had made the statement. Her momentary fury really had nothing to do with Caleb Tanner.
In fact, she decided, it had nothing to do with men at all; it was more likely a psychological warning buzzer. If she couldn’t laugh off the notion that a man—any man—might not find her appealing, then perhaps her ego was getting out of line and needed a serious pruning.
In any case, she should be celebrating the fact that Caleb hadn’t tried to force her into his bed. Because if he had…
She squashed a momentary vision of Caleb Tanner’s face looming above her, his handsome features honed by desire.
Rent-A-Wife would just have had to cope with the fallout of losing an important client, she told herself.
The loss would have been monstrously unfair to Paige and Cassie, of course, but there was nothing Sabrina could have done about that. And they would have understood; there were prices that no one should be expected to pay, and sleeping with Caleb Tanner was one of them.
Obviously there was no shortage of women who didn’t agree with that philosophy, Sabrina admitted. But she’d never made a habit of following the crowd, and she wasn’t about to start now just because Caleb was involved. The fact that there were women standing in line hoping to be his bimbo of the week was no recommendation where Sabrina was concerned.
However, it looked as if Cassie had been right, after all, when she’d said Angelique’s time in the spotlight had expired. Perhaps the rest of the feminine crowd had sensed that Caleb was getting restless and ready for a change; that would help explain why women had started to swarm around him as soon as they’d heard he was hurt.
That thought provided a little comfort to Sabrina. Not that she much cared what happened to Angelique, but it gave her a little more hope for her own situation.
It appeared, from everything she’d ever heard about him, that Caleb Tanner was constitutionally incapable of sticking with any one woman for long. Implying that whichever lady he was currently seeing would last no longer than a week might be a trifle exaggerated, but the description hadn’t come out of nowhere.
Therefore, Sabrina thought, it wasn’t unreasonable to hope that he’d soon get tired of her, too—or at least grow weary of the idea of exacting revenge for his injury by keeping her dancing attendance on him. And, wildly improbable though it sounded, if she was actually successful in keeping all of his women away…
Well, Sabrina thought, he could talk all he wanted to about not wanting them around, but she’d bet her convertible that Caleb would soon be bored without his harem. In fact, she calculated, she’d give him three days maximum.
Feeling considerably more cheerful, she stuck the last flower into the vase and was starting to wipe up the water drops that had splashed everywhere when Jennings came into the kitchen carrying a cordless phone, which he held out to her without saying a word.
Sabrina took it and tried to brace herself. “Jennings, did Mr. Tanner tell you to pass his calls on to me?”
“The lady asked for you, miss.”
Relief whispered through her. “Oh, that must be my partner. She wasn’t answering her phone a few minutes ago so I left a message on her voice mail.” And you’re deliberately delaying, she told herself, because you aren’t looking forward to reporting this morning’s change of plans. “I’ll be out of your way here in a minute, Jennings. Where will I find the garbage can?”
He pointed at the far corner of the room. “I’ll take care of the debris, miss.”
“Way over there? Why? It isn’t even next to the back door, much less convenient to anything else. I don’t know a lot about kitchens—”
Even though she hadn’t yet put the phone to her ear, Sabrina could hear laughter from the other end of the line. She tucked the phone between shoulder and ear and said, with mock hauteur, “I don’t recall asking for your opinion, Cassie.”
“What you know about kitchens would fit on the head of a pin with room left over,” said her unrepentant partner.
“That may be true. But I know an inefficient one when I see it.”
“Whose kitchen are we talking about, anyway?”
“Well…this could require a bit of explanation.” Sabrina took a deep breath. “It’s Caleb Tanner’s.”
The long silence on the phone was the loudest Sabrina had ever heard. “No wonder the phone number looked vaguely familiar. Why aren’t you using your cell phone, by the way?”
“It’s not working. It seems to have been a casualty of the fall last night.”
“That figures,” Cassie said. “So about Caleb…Please tell me he invited you.”
“No, Cassie, I crashed my way in.” It was true, of course, but Cassie would never believe it—and what her partner didn’t know, Sabrina told herself, wouldn’t hurt her. “Actually, I came to apologize.”
“So what’s keeping you? Sabrina, do us all a favor and get out of there before something else happens.”
“Now