Semiautomatic Marriage

“The natives call it liquid sunshine,” she informed him with a faint smile.

“I grew up in New Mexico. Ever been there?” he asked, hoping to make the situation seem casual and friendly.

“No, but I don’t think I’d like it,” she said frankly. “I’d miss the water.”

He could tell from her pensive expression that her thoughts were beyond any casual chitchat. Not that he could blame her. She’d been given a double whammy. Learning the identity of her grandfather would have been shock enough, but the inheritance on top of that would knock anyone for a loop. He knew from her case history that she possessed a dogged will that had obviously shaped her life. The vulnerable innocence about her was utterly deceptive. She wouldn’t be easily persuaded to fall in line with his plans.

As she sat in the seat beside him, he was aware of her appealing femininity, the lines and curves of her body. Her summer blouse molded the fullness of her breasts, and its open collar revealed the smooth lines of her neck. A faint floral scent teased his nostrils, and he realized that he’d been without feminine company far too long.

She told him the address of her apartment and gave him directions. He related a couple of humorous experiences he’d had trying to find his way in foreign countries and was rewarded with a slight smile.

“Have you traveled abroad quite a bit?” she asked.

“Not really. South America, mostly. I lived in Brazil for a couple of years. I served as the judicial attaché at the United States Embassy and coordinated evidence of drug-related activities.”

“I see. And when you came back to the States, you became an FDA agent?”

“Yes.”

As he fell silent, Carolyn was aware of the change in him. A shadow passed over his eyes, and she sensed that for some reason the subject was painful for him. What had happened in his career, she wondered, to put that kind of pain in his expression? She remembered how very intense he’d been in the lawyer’s office. Obviously Bancroft had asked him to be there, and she had cut him off when he tried to explain his interest in her sudden legacy.

“Is this the place?” he asked as he pulled up in front of the large house owned by an elderly widow from whom she rented an upstairs apartment.

“Yes, this is…home.” She hesitated slightly over the word as she reached for the door handle. She was still feeling overwhelmed, but a blessed detachment had begun to ease her bewilderment.

“Carolyn, could we talk a minute? I know your head must be swimming with all this, but I really need to share some things with you. Would you just hear me out? It’s important. There are some decisions that have to be made.”

“I’m not ready to make decisions of any kind,” she answered firmly. “I’ve read about people who suddenly come into money and how they’re hounded by the public, pulled this way and that. Everyone with his hands out and—”

“This isn’t about money,” he said curtly. “It’s about the welfare of a lot of people. Your decision to become a doctor had something to do with your dedication to the public interest, I assume.”

“I don’t think my dedication is the issue here,” she said evenly. “Don’t you understand? I’m too stunned to even comprehend what all this means. I need time, information and the insight to make some decisions. I really don’t know what you expect from me.”

“You will, if you’ll give me a chance to explain. Please, Carolyn. Just hear me out. Then I’ll give you the time you need to come to terms with what I’m asking.”

His gray eyes were like grappling hooks locking her gaze with his. An undefined warning stirred deep within her. She wanted to turn away, but couldn’t. Whether she wanted to or not, she was going to have to deal with this.

She moistened her lips. “All right. But not here in the car. We can talk better inside.”

He nodded, and quickly got out and came around the car to open her door. Without talking, they walked around the house to the outside staircase that led to her apartment. She could feel his warm breath on her neck as she secured her key in the lock and opened the door.

The tiny kitchen was a mess. She’d slept in late and barely made it to her ten o’clock appointment with Bancroft. The tiny living room wasn’t much better, and Carolyn wished she’d shut the bedroom door so he couldn’t see the discarded clothes on her bed. She’d tried on several outfits before deciding on the summer skirt and blouse.

She swallowed back any apologies or explanation. The apartment was sparsely furnished with the land-lady’s cast-off furniture. Most of it would have gone begging at a garage sale. An old, scarred desk was loaded down with medical books, papers and a small computer.

In an effort to add some color and personal touches, Carolyn had hung some framed calendar prints and bought a small plant stand. She rarely had any kind of company, and the place looked exactly what it was—rented space.

She avoided looking at Adam as he sat down on the lumpy couch and she took a nearby faded chair. What was he thinking? Why had he intruded on her privacy like this? She was suddenly aware of his masculine presence and the way it filled up the room. He’d left his summer sports jacket in the car and had loosened the matching tie. His short dark hair set off his black eyebrows and arresting gray eyes. His well-built, six-foot frame revealed strong shoulder and arm muscles, and as he casually settled himself into a comfortable position, she resented that he was sending her thoughts into places where she’d placed permanent Keep Out signs.

Her tone was brisker than she’d intended when she said, “All right, I’m listening. Why don’t you tell me what this is all about?”

A flicker of expressions like shadows played across his face as he studied her without answering. Then, to her surprise, instead of speaking, he rose abruptly to his feet and walked over to the window. The way he stood there, staring out, she realized that he was experiencing some kind of emotional turmoil of his own. She’d seen patients caught in that same kind of mental maze, and she remained silent, waiting for him to respond.

He stood there for what seemed like an eternity before he turned around and repeated, “What is this all about?”

He walked back to the couch and sat down again. “This is about Marietta.”

“Marietta?” Carolyn echoed.

“My late wife. I lost her. She suffered a cruel and painful death.”

During her internship at the hospital, she’d seen grief of many kinds. Some people wore the loss of a loved one on the outside, like a mourning cloak, while others held their grief inside, deep and private. It was clear to her that this man’s filled the very breath and soul of his being. Until that moment she hadn’t really connected with him, but now she saw him from a different perspective, and she felt drawn to him on a level she didn’t understand.

“I’m so very sorry,” she said, and moved over to the couch beside him.

He searched her face as if to judge the sincerity of her words as he began to talk about himself. “After I graduated from law school, I took a position as judicial attaché at the United States Embassy in Brazil. I coordinated evidence and information on illegal-substance traffic between the U.S. and Brazil.” He paused. “Marietta worked as a translator at the embassy. We’d only been married a few months when she suffered an infection and died from liver failure after a doctor unknowingly gave her an unapproved drug that had found its way into the country through the black market.” Carolyn saw the hard set of his jaw and the way his gray eyes glittered like honed steel. “That pharmaceutical drug came from Horizon.”

Her stomach took a sickening plunge. “How can you be sure?”

“Drugs are produced in batches,” he explained. “Each bottle has the batch number on it, along with the name of the company that manufactured it. The bottle of bad pills that killed Marietta came from Horizon Pharmaceuticals, but when the FDA tried to verify it, the company records showed that a batch with that number had never been produced by the company.”

“Then the drug your wife took was a counterfeit,” Carolyn said, frowning.

“That’s what the authorities believed. I came back to the U.S. a few months ago and found the investigation at a standstill. It’s true that illegal organizations that produce counterfeit drugs do their best to duplicate the appearance of the drug by using bottles of the same size, shape and the same kind of labeling.”

“So Horizon is telling the truth?”

“I don’t think so, and this is why. It’s almost impossible to produce an exact match in every detail to an authentic bottle of pills. The size of the lettering may be wrong, the color of the label slightly off, the plastic bottle lighter or heavier, the pills flatter or more rounded. But in this instance, everything in the bottle of pills that killed Marietta is an exact duplicate to one produced by Horizon.”

“How could that be if the company has no record?”

“For the past year products from Horizon have shown up illegally on various foreign black markets, and until now there hasn’t been a way for me to penetrate company operations and conduct an on-the-spot investigation.”

Until now. The way he was looking at her left no doubt in her mind what those words meant. She stiffened. He was here with an agenda of his own, and his next words verified it.

“You can provide me with a legitimate cover for my investigation. If I can get in a position to examine the workings of the company from the inside, I’m confident I can find out how black-market drugs that don’t meet FDA standards are being illegally circulated in other countries.” He reached over and took her hand. “That’s why I need your help. You can provide me with a legitimate cover for my investigation.”

“How can I do that?” she protested. “I’m totally inexperienced, and it will take time for me to make any changes. You would stick out like a sore thumb if I tried right off to put you in any kind of position at Horizon.”

“I know. That’s why we’d have to arrange something different. I’ll need a cover that will give me intimate access to the workings of the company.”

The steadiness of his gaze told Carolyn that he had already decided what that cover should be. She felt a strange quiver in her stomach, like someone about to take a plunge off a cliff with a bungee cord tied around her ankle.

“When you arrive at Horizon for the first time, Carolyn, I need to be there with you—as your husband.”

She choked on her intake of breath. “My husband?”

“In name only,” he hastened to reassure her. “Don’t you see? It’s the perfect cover!”

Chapter Two

“You want to pretend to be my husband?” Her incredulous tone was a mixture of amusement and indignation.

“Well, not pretend, exactly.”

“Then what exactly?” Her eyes narrowed and she stiffened beside him.

Adam sensed her instant withdrawal and silently cursed. Damn! He’d come at this the wrong way. What to do now?

He stood up, took a few aimless steps and then eased down on a corner of the old desk. He hoped he could handle the situation better if he wasn’t close enough to be aware of every breath she drew. Aware of her soft, womanly warmth. Now, he had to lay all his cards out on the table, and fast. Above all, he had to be honest with her. She wasn’t about to jump into anything with her eyes closed.

“It wouldn’t all be pretend,” he explained, not wanting to hold anything back. “I mean, we’d have to perform all the legalities and officially be husband and wife in case anyone decided to check for a marriage license.”

“We would go through a wedding ceremony and be legally married.” She tried to keep her voice even. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, but between us, Carolyn, it would be strictly a business arrangement that would be dissolved once the investigation was over. I’d be a husband to you in name only.”

“A business arrangement? A husband in name only? And how would that work, exactly?” She raised a questioning eyebrow.

“Well, in public we would have to behave like a congenial couple and—”

“Like newlyweds, perhaps?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle. Leave it to her to put her finger exactly where the charade would demand more than she was willing to give. “We’d be playing a part, acting, pure and simple.”

“A few kisses and hugs between business partners wouldn’t mean anything. Is that the way it would work?”

“Exactly. It would be just for show,” he answered firmly, but as his gaze settled on her pink, kissable lips and the delicate curve of her cheek, he knew he’d have to keep his guard up every moment or he’d blow the whole charade. Everything about her luscious body invited a man’s touch. He felt a quiver of desire just thinking about holding her close and kissing her. He’d have to be damn careful not to let her know that he found her utterly sexy and desirable.

“And living arrangements?” she asked as if reading his thoughts. “I assume they would demand a little more playacting?”

“The Stanford mansion is large enough for us to have extreme privacy. We could have one wing of the house to ourselves. We would only have to interact with the others when we want their company.” He didn’t add that an important part of his investigation would involve getting close to Jasper and Della because of their positions in Horizon.

“You have this all figured out, haven’t you.”

“That’s my job. And I’m good at it,” he added without conceit. He already had an impressive record, working in Brazil and in the U.S.

“And how long do you anticipate this ‘business arrangement’ might last?”

“Hopefully just a matter of weeks. Once I have access to company files, I should be able to get the evidence I need to track the illegal shipments.” He paused. “There is one other thing, though.” He hesitated as if searching for the right words. “There could be complications if all this leads into a murder investigation of your grandfather’s death.”

“Murder investigation?”

“I told you that the hit-and-run was suspicious.” When he saw her lovely face whiten, he cursed himself for being so callous. That was one of the fallouts of being an investigator. You got hardened to things that made a normal person wince.

Her mouth trembled slightly as she asked, “You think the black-market drugs and his hit-and-run might be connected?”

“I don’t know, but I promise you I’ll do my best to find out.” He sat down beside her again. “Look, I feel like a heel pushing you like this, but if we’re going to set up this cover, it has to be now, before you move into your role as Carolyn Leigh Stanford. When you meet your uncle and the others living in the Stanford mansion, I’ll need to be there as your husband—a fait accompli, so to speak.”

“My…my uncle.” She stumbled over the term as if it had never crossed her lips before. “Do you know him?”

From the way her blue eyes widened, he realized that once again he was moving too fast for her. The idea of having a living relative must be as astounding as the rest of this situation.

“I’ve never met him,” Adam admitted, “but I know that Jasper Stanford is a man in his early fifties who’s lived with your grandfather for years. He’s a laboratory scientist at Horizon and has never shown any aptitude for the business side of the company. As I said before, he was a failure in his own ventures. Jasper was your mother’s only sibling. He was twenty-six years old and away at college when she ran away from home at sixteen. Their mother, your grandmother, died a few years after your mother, Alicia, leaving your grandfather a widower for many years.”

Adam paused, trying to decide the best way to explain the situation Carolyn was going to find under her grandfather’s roof and at the company. “Jasper’s girlfriend, Della, has been living in the Stanford mansion with her twenty-three-year-old daughter, Lisa, and her twenty-one-year-old son, Buddy. Apparently it was an arrangement that had your grandfather’s approval.”

What if I don’t like these people? Carolyn asked herself anxiously. And what if they didn’t like her? She felt her stomach tighten. She had plenty of memories where she was less than welcome, her presence tolerated only because of the money her foster parents were paid. The circumstances were different now, but one thing was the same. These people were going to resent her presence big-time.

“Were they mentioned in my grandfather’s will?”

“You and Jasper are the major beneficiaries. I’m sure that the contents of your grandfather’s will was totally unexpected, though, and your inheritance a great surprise to all of them.”

Was there a warning in his tone? She shivered. Too much was coming at her too fast. She needed a break. Quickly she rose to her feet.

“I missed my second cup of coffee at breakfast,” she said. “Would you care for a cup?”

The invitation wasn’t exactly full of warmth and hospitality, but he readily accepted and then followed her into the small kitchen. She motioned to one of the chairs at the chipped Formica table crowded into one corner.

“Cream and sugar?” she asked as she took a couple of mugs down from the cupboard.

“No, black.”

“Good, because I don’t have any cream,” she admitted with a wry smile. “Going grocery shopping is not one of my things.”

“Not mine, either. I knew we had something in common,” he added facetiously, hoping for a smile, but as she handed him the mug, her expression was anything but amused.

Instead of sitting down in the other chair, she leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping her own coffee. Even though they were in close physical proximity, she seemed able to completely disregard him. Everything in her body language told him she was processing what he had told her. He wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d taken her mug and disappeared into the other room, ignoring him completely.

He’d bungled everything. He’d completely misjudged Carolyn Leigh. The instant she’d locked those clear, ocean blue eyes on him, he should have known her outward feminine softness was deceiving. She had a self-reliance that was a match for his or anyone else’s. Arthur Stanford must have been aware of her strength and firm hold on her convictions when he decided to leave his assets to her. He doubted very much that she’d ever be swayed by pure emotion or easily dominated by a husband, pretend or otherwise. If she agreed to his plan, she’d be a tremendous help, but if she refused to consider a contrived marriage, there would be nothing he could do or say to make her change her mind.

He forced himself to remain silent, sipping his coffee. His wandering gaze settled on a kitchen shelf that held a small vase of artificial flowers, a chipped porcelain tea cup, and a small framed photo of an older woman standing with a frail-looking blond girl who appeared to be about eight. Carolyn? It must be.

“Yes, it’s me.” She startled him by suddenly sitting down in the other chair and following his gaze to the photo.

“And who’s the woman?” he asked.

“An angel.” A soft glow deepened the blue of her eyes. “Hannah Lamm. When I was a sickly, emaciated three-year-old, who had no appeal as a child to be adopted, she arranged to take me into her home. She nurtured me through all the childhood diseases. I stayed with her until I was eight. She saved my life. My physical health improved, and so did my mental abilities. Hannah convinced me that I had a good mind and could learn. Somehow she planted the idea that I could become a doctor. When she died and I was thrown back into the pack of unwanted orphans, when I thought life wasn’t worth living, that goal was the motivation that kept me going.”

“And you’ve supported yourself all the way?”

She nodded. “Hannah also taught me that goals are reached by working for them. I got a full-time job out of high school and was lucky enough to get with a good company and the chance to learn a lot about investments. Even after I started college, I worked part-time. Sometimes I was tempted to stay with Champion Realty and Investments, because I could see myself moving up in the company, but somehow I had to prove to myself—and to Hannah—that I could have an M.D. after my name.”

“And now you do. Congratulations. You have a medical degree and more. Your grandfather had great faith in you, Carolyn, and he must have loved your mother very much to leave almost everything he had to her daughter.”

“All this is too sudden. I still can’t believe it.” Her fingers tightened on her cup. “How could my life change so radically in the span of a few moments?”

“That’s the way it does sometimes, both good and bad. But nothing stays the same, and we really don’t have much choice how to handle change. We can make it work for us or just mark time.”

The challenge in his tone was clear, but she ignored it. She wasn’t ready to make any kind of a commitment. Certainly not the kind he was proposing. She needed time. Time! She glanced at the kitchen clock. Almost one o’clock. She was due at the free clinic at twelve-thirty.

“What’s the matter?” he asked as panic flashed across her face.

“It’s my afternoon at Friends Free Clinic.” She hurriedly got to her feet. “I completely forgot. Oh, no. My car. Taking a bus will eat up another hour.”

“Well, if mine is still working, I think we’re in business.”

She nodded. “Thank you. I’m surprised Dr. McPherson hasn’t called to chew me out. He’s an ornery old codger who should have retired years ago, but he can’t ignore the need. Just a minute while I grab my medical bag.”

“What about lunch?” he asked as if he hadn’t been planning on coaxing her to have it with him.

“I’m used to skipping it.”

“Doctor, doctor,” he teased. “For shame.”

She laughed then, a full, wonderful laugh that wrinkled her nose, brought a shine to her crystalline blue eyes. She was utterly beautiful. Vibrant. And desirable. He was stunned by the sudden realization that Carolyn Leigh was about to touch some guarded depth of emotion that he thought he’d put away forever. He couldn’t afford such feelings. First of all, she was on the threshold of a lifestyle of money and prestige, and getting involved with her would go nowhere. Second, any personal feelings would wreak havoc with the impersonal marriage of convenience that was vital to the success of his mission. It would be pure idiocy to allow himself to be attracted to her on any level.

Carolyn directed him to the clinic, which was housed in an old building that had once been a small neighborhood school. The place was still run-down and in need of remodeling, but the first floor had been refurbished to handle the various demands of a free clinic.

A valiant sun had lost its battle to the overcast sky and a soft rain began to fall as he let her out of the car.

“Thanks a bunch,” Carolyn said quickly as she prepared to make a dash for the front door.

“Carolyn, will you think about what I’ve said?”

“I’ll…I’ll be in touch.”

From the look on his face, Carolyn knew he was expecting more than this vague promise, but at the moment it was all she had to give. If he’d pushed her for an answer to his proposition, it would have been an immediate and definite No!

“I could give you a ride home,” he suggested.

“Thanks, but I’ll catch a ride with someone from the clinic when it closes.”

As she hurried away, she could feel his intense gaze on her back. Why in the world hadn’t she told him straight out that playing house with him was out of the question? She sympathized with his personal loss, admired his dedication to his job, but she wasn’t cut out for a game of deception. Just pretending to be his wife, and opening herself up to all kinds of undefined emotions, was more than she could handle.

“Well, now. Who’s the hunk that made you late?” Rosie DiPaloa teased as Carolyn hurried into the reception area. Obviously the dark-haired young woman had been looking out the window as Adam drove up in front of the building. “Don’t tell me our brand-new doctor is spreading her wings already. What gives?”