The One-Week Wife

PATRICIA KAY

The One-Week Wife

Acknowledgment

Special thanks and acknowledgment are given

to Patricia A. Kay for her contribution to the

SECRET LIVES OF SOCIETY WIVES miniseries.

Contents

Acknowledgment

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Coming Next Month

One

Felicity Farnsworth stopped her Toyota Highlander just outside the entrance to Rosedale Farms and took a deep breath to calm her jittery nerves. She dreaded her upcoming encounter with Reed Kelly. But she’d put the meeting off long enough. Now, even if she’d wanted to, she could no longer do so. Not since Madeline Newhouse had insisted her daughter Portia’s wedding photos simply had to be taken at Rosedale.

Felicity was a wedding planner, the owner of Weddings By Felicity, the most successful event-planning business in Fairfield County, Connecticut. Her weddings were all spectacular, and the Newhouse wedding promised to be the most spectacular of all, for Portia was the adored only daughter of Alex Newhouse, the famous actor. And he had decreed that no expense should be spared when it came to his beautiful daughter’s wedding.

So if Madeline wanted Portia’s wedding photos taken at Rosedale, Felicity had to make that happen. Otherwise, she would be risking her hard-won success. And forfeiting the chance to be recommended by Madeline to her wide circle of free-spending friends.

Felicity took another deep, steadying breath, released the brake and drove slowly through the arched portal leading into Rosedale. Yet no matter how she cautioned herself to remain calm, her heartbeat picked up speed the closer she got to the main building, which housed Reed’s office.

Reed.

Felicity hadn’t seen him since her best friend Emma Dearborn had broken her engagement to him, throwing him over for Garrett Keating. How was Reed taking the breakup? Was he devastated? Maybe he wouldn’t want to see Felicity or anyone else associated with Emma. Maybe he hated all the Debs who were in Emma’s close circle of friends. If he did, Felicity certainly wouldn’t blame him.

Yet as uneasy as she was about seeing Reed, Felicity couldn’t deny an underlying flicker of excitement. It was so ironic that the only man to interest her since her miserable ex of a husband had betrayed her and robbed her blind was Reed. That interest had sparked while Felicity was planning his wedding to Emma, and no matter how Felicity had fought it, telling herself Reed was off-limits, it had refused to go away.

But Reed was no longer her best friend’s fiancé.

In fact, Reed was now available.

No, I’m not going there. Not, not, not…

After her divorce, Felicity had made a promise to herself. She’d vowed to spend her time and energy rebuilding her life and her fortune. Period. Because obviously she had rotten judgment when it came to men. What she’d thought was love on her ex’s part had been opportunism, nothing more. He’d used her, and Felicity had no intention of ever being used again.

So no matter how attracted to him you are, put sexy, available Reed Kelly out of your mind and stay focused on your goals—goals that do not include marriage or any other kind of permanent commitment to a man.

Arriving at the main building, Felicity pulled in and parked. Then she briskly climbed out of her truck, put on her game face and walked up the three shallow concrete steps into Reed’s domain.

“Oh, hi, Ms. Farnsworth.”

Felicity smiled at the pretty young girl who sat working at a computer in Reed’s office. She recognized her as one of his nieces, but wasn’t sure which one she was. “Hi. Is Reed around?”

The girl—who looked to be about fifteen or sixteen—nodded. “He’s out back in the stables. Want me to go get him?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll walk back there.” Felicity preferred to see Reed alone. Especially if his reaction to her visit was anywhere close to what she feared.

Heading back to the stables, Felicity was grateful that the walkway was paved. The last thing she wanted was to ruin her Jimmy Choo mules, which had eaten up a big chunk of her disposable income last month. Shoes were Felicity’s big weakness—some might even say her obsession. Currently she owned more than eighty pairs, and she still kept buying new ones.

Sometimes she felt guilty over the amount of money she spent on shoes, but she didn’t allow those feelings to last long. After all, she worked hard. The cash she spent was hers, earned by that hard work. It wasn’t as if she was spending some man’s money.

No, it was the other way around. Sam spent all my money, she thought bitterly. She wondered how long it would take to get over the fact she’d been stupid enough to let her husband dip his hands into her inheritance from her parents.

“Felicity!”

Felicity blinked. She’d been so lost in her thoughts she hadn’t even seen the approach of Max Weldon, Reed’s trainer and assistant manager. A former jockey, Max topped out at five foot one and a hundred pounds, but his deep voice belied his size.

She smiled. “Hi, Max.” Max and her father had been very good friends, even though Max was closer to Felicity’s age than to her father’s.

Max’s brown eyes gazed up at her with fondness. “Been a while since I’ve seen you. What’re you doing out here? You in the market for a horse?”

Felicity shook her head. “I don’t have the time to ride anymore. No, I’ve got to see Reed about a business proposition.” From the curious expression on Max’s face, she knew he was dying to know what kind of business proposition she could possibly have that would interest Reed, but he was too polite to ask.

“Well, he’s in the stables,” Max said.

“Thanks. Tell Paulette I said hi.” Paulette was Max’s wife.

“Will do.”

They said goodbye, then headed in opposite directions.

Nearing the stables, Felicity heard a soft whinny, then the unmistakable low voice of a man.

Reed.

Pulse quickening, she left the brightly sunlit walkway and entered the shaded interior of the main stables. Assorted smells—molasses and oats, cured hay and wood shavings, and that particular scent of the saddle soap Reed and his workers used to wash the horses—assaulted Felicity’s senses as she walked inside. Although she had once been an avid horsewoman, she hadn’t ridden in many years. Her ex had considered riding and everything connected to the sport to be a waste of time and money, and for a long time, what Sam had wanted Sam had gotten. But today, once again among the familiar sounds and smells, she remembered with an ache of nostalgia all the reasons she’d loved horses and riding so much.

Reed stood a few dozen yards away, talking softly to a beautiful black gelding with a classically chiseled head. Felicity’s breath caught at the picture. She wasn’t sure which was more gorgeous…the horse…or Reed.

Feasting her eyes on Reed’s six-foot-two frame, his thick brown hair and his tanned, muscled, athletic body clothed in a white knit shirt and coffee-colored riding breeches, she couldn’t help thinking Emma was crazy. She’d told Felicity that once she’d seen Garrett again she’d finally realized she didn’t love Reed the way she should. But how any woman could not love—or at least lust after—Reed Kelly was a mystery to Felicity.

In her opinion, Reed was the perfect man, if such a thing actually existed. For not only was he gorgeous, he was sexy, lots of fun and nice. Warm, generous and kindhearted, he was the type of man both men and women liked. Added to all that, he loved horses.

If he’d been mine…

But he hadn’t been hers. And he never would be. Because she was no longer in the market….

Felicity didn’t finish the thought, because just then Reed turned. The stable was dim, and her eyes hadn’t fully adjusted from the July sun outside, so Felicity couldn’t quite make out his expression.

“Hello, Felicity,” he said quietly.

He didn’t sound mad. That was promising.

“H-hello, Reed.” Damn. She hated that slight wobble in her voice. She prided herself on always being calm, cool and collected. Some people even called her the Ice Princess, a name she had actively cultivated, for it helped her when she was dealing with the megarich, as she often did. Never let ’em see you sweat. Always give the impression you’re in perfect control. That had become her mantra.

“What brings you here? Did you come to gloat?”

Oops. Maybe he was mad.

“Gloat?” she said innocently. “About what?”

Instead of answering, he stroked the gelding one more time, then strode toward her.

Felicity had to force herself not to back up, even though that nervousness she’d managed to quell earlier was back in spades.

“Is everyone talking about me? Feeling sorry for me?” he said sharply.

Now she could see his eyes. She had never known that blue eyes could actually blaze. Her heart beat faster. “No, of course not.” But they were. After all, Emma and Reed’s breakup was one of the juiciest pieces of gossip to hit Eastwick in months. And Eastwick thrived on gossip. Especially that witch Delia Forrester, who seemed to think she might become the new Bunny Talbot now that the “Eastwick Social Diary” gossip maven was dead.

Reed’s jaw hardened. “Don’t lie to me, Felicity. I know everybody in the entire damned county is gossiping about me. Hell, I can hear them now. ‘There must be something wrong with Reed Kelly if Emma Dearborn has thrown him over.’”

“Oh, Reed.” Felicity’s heart melted at the realization that he wasn’t mad. He was hurt. Unable to help herself, she reached over and laid her hand on his arm. He flinched, but he didn’t pull away. Wanting to comfort him, she moved closer, sliding her arms around his waist and hugging him. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “About everything that’s happened.”

For a moment he stood stiffly, and Felicity was afraid she’d crossed an uncrossable line. Then his arms encircled her, and he rested his chin on the top of her head. Felicity closed her eyes. Being held like this, even if it was only a hug between casual friends, felt so good. It had been a long time since she’d been embraced by a man she respected. Especially a man as attractive as Reed.

She sighed and, drawing back slightly, looked up, wishing she knew what else she could say to make him feel better. “Reed…” she began.

He looked down.

When their gazes met, something electric and undeniable sizzled between them. And then, in an action Felicity knew she’d never forget, his head came down and his mouth captured hers.

Shock waves radiated through Felicity as his tongue delved. She moaned when his hands dropped lower to cup her bottom, pulling her even closer so that she could feel his arousal. Her insides had turned liquid, her entire body on fire with need.

Reed…Reed…

Her mind spun with the realization that one of her fantasies was actually taking place. For even during Emma’s engagement to Reed, there had been times Felicity couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like to be Emma. To be kissed by Reed. To have him touch her. To make love with him…

Suddenly, penetrating the haze of desire consuming Felicity, she heard the sound of someone’s footsteps outside. Reed must have heard them, too, for he immediately released her, and she staggered backward.

For just a moment they stared at one another. Then Felicity, knowing her face was flaming, sputtered, “I—I have to go. Here. This is what I came to give you.” Reaching into her handbag, she grabbed the check she’d prepared earlier and thrust it at him. It was a refund of the deposit he’d given her months ago when he and Emma had asked her to handle the arrangements for their wedding.

Too embarrassed to wait for his response, she spun about and, as fast as she could manage on her four-inch heels, she fled the stable.

Hell’s bells!

What had he been thinking?

You weren’t thinking. At least, not with your brain.

Huffing out a breath, Reed swore at himself. Jesus. That had to have been the stupidest thing he’d ever done. He’d practically attacked Felicity. Why? Was he that horny? Or was he somehow trying to get back at Emma for making him a laughingstock?

He gritted his teeth.

That’s what galled him.

That’s what really galled him.

On some level he’d always known that something was missing in his relationship with Emma. She was sweet and lovely and exactly the kind of woman any man would be proud to have as his wife. But if he’d been honest with himself, he’d have admitted that there were no sparks between them, which didn’t bode well for their future.

In fact—and he couldn’t have admitted this to anyone—they had never been intimate. Emma had been reluctant, wanting to wait until they were married, and Reed had respected her feelings.

So when she’d broken their engagement because of another man, he’d been more embarrassed than hurt. But afterward he had wondered if her reluctance to engage in sex before their marriage had more to do with a lack of desire than it did with wanting to remain chaste, as he’d thought.

Now he questioned everything about their relationship, especially his own judgment. His ego was sorely bruised, and the fact that everyone in their circle knew exactly what had caused the breakup made the situation ten times worse.

Although Reed came from a big, gregarious family and really liked people, he was a very private person where his feelings were concerned. If he could have licked his wounds alone, he could have dealt with being jilted. As it was, he felt raw and exposed.

And stupid. Don’t forget stupid.

“Hey, boss, everything okay in here?”

Reed tried for a normal smile. “Everything’s fine, Max. Why?”

His assistant frowned. “I just saw Felicity rushing out of here. Thought maybe you’d had some kind of argument or something.”

“No, uh, she had an appointment, I think.”

Max nodded, but the speculative look remained in his eyes, and Reed wondered if he suspected what had really happened between them. “Which reminds me, there are some phone calls I need to make,” Reed added.

Walking out of the stable, Reed put on his sunglasses and headed for the office. In the distance he glimpsed the taillights of a silver SUV heading away from the farm. Felicity’s vehicle, he realized ruefully. Getting away from him as fast as she could.

And yet…

She certainly hadn’t shoved him away when he’d kissed her. In fact, he thought, she had responded rather enthusiastically. Just remembering that response and how good her slender curves and warm body had felt in his arms, he could feel himself growing hard again.

Maybe Felicity was just what he needed right now. If they were to get together, the gossips would have something new to talk about, and they’d stop feeling sorry for him. The idea was appealing, but after a moment or two he pushed it away. He couldn’t do that to Felicity. It simply wouldn’t be fair to use her that way. Especially when he knew, from comments Emma had made, that Felicity had been badly hurt by her former husband’s betrayal.

Belatedly he looked at the check she had shoved into his hand. A twenty-thousand-dollar refund of the deposit he’d given her when he and Emma had first begun planning their wedding.

That was generous of her. As it was, he’d lost the thousands he’d paid for the honeymoon he wouldn’t be taking. Not to mention the cost of the expensive diamond Emma had returned to him—a ring that he was sure the jeweler wouldn’t take back, or if he did, would give Reed only a fraction of what he’d paid for it.

He hoped Felicity wasn’t out any money because of the canceled wedding. Surely she would have deducted any expenses she’d incurred before making out the check. He made a mental note to ask her about that.

Reaching his office, he walked inside and smiled at his brother Daniel’s daughter, Colleen, who promptly handed him three pink telephone slips.

“Julianne Foster, Dr. Finnerty and Gram called,” Colleen said. “Gram just wanted to know if you’re coming to dinner tonight.”

“Thanks, honey.” Reed looked at his watch. It was after one. “Shouldn’t you be heading home by now?” Colleen was working half days for him this summer.

“I just wanted to finish up the newsletter,” she said as Reed headed into his office. “Then I’ll be off.”

Reed sent a monthly newsletter to his clients, who numbered in the hundreds—some living as far away as Texas, for Reed’s thoroughbred horses were renowned and commanded top prices. Rosedale Farms was a full-service facility providing the highest-quality care and environment for all boarding, foaling and bloodstock management needs. It sat on six hundred acres of rolling hills and pastures in a gorgeous setting that was the envy of many other horse breeders. Reed was justifiably proud of the farm named after his paternal grandmother, Rose Moran Kelly, who, along with her husband, Aloysius, had owned and run a successful horse-breeding farm in their native Ireland, and he hoped to pass it down to his children.

Children. At the rate he was going, he’d never have any. Too bad he couldn’t just arrange a marriage the way they had in the old country. Make it a strictly business proposition and pick a wife who wanted children the way he did. Of course, he wouldn’t want just anyone. She’d have to be smart, attractive and agreeable. Unwanted came the thought Someone like Felicity.

He grimaced. Oh, sure. As if Felicity would be interested. She’d made her feelings about marriage known to anyone who would listen. She’d been burned once and had no intention of being burned again. He and Emma had often talked about Felicity’s attitude, because Emma really cared about her best friend and wanted her to be happy.

“She told me,” Emma had said, “that from now on she’s devoting herself to her career and only her career. When I tried to tell her she could have both a successful career and a successful marriage—all it would take is the right man—she said she was happy for me if I felt that way, but marriage was not for her.”

Remembering that conversation, Reed told himself to put Felicity out of his mind. She was not a candidate to be Mrs. Reed Kelly.

Determinedly clearing his thoughts of everything but work, he sat down at his desk and picked up his phone to return the calls.

Felicity couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened between her and Reed. Dear heaven, what had she been thinking? Why had she permitted that kiss? And permitting it, why had she responded like a bitch in heat?

You know why. You’ve been lusting after Reed for a long time….

And now he knew it. Or if he didn’t exactly know it, he sure as hell suspected it.

Damn.

Her face burned just thinking about her wanton, out-of-control behavior. She couldn’t imagine what Reed was thinking. How could she ever face him again?

And Max. Why, she’d nearly run him down when she’d rushed out of the stables that way. She could just imagine what he’d been thinking. She’d muttered an apology and some nonsense about being late for an appointment and avoided his eyes. Oh, God…

She was still mentally berating herself when she got back to her office. Trying to regroup and forget what had happened out at Rosedale Farms—so Reed had kissed her, so what?—she entered her office.

Rita Dixon, her diminutive assistant, looked up from her desk. Her brown eyes sparkled with the boundless energy that made her such a valuable employee. “So how’d it go? Did he agree?”

Felicity froze. Oh, my God. She had completely forgotten her main reason for going out to Rosedale. Sure, she’d intended to return Reed’s deposit, but her most important goal was to get him to agree to allow Portia Newhouse’s wedding photos to be taken there.

And she’d forgotten to ask him! Thinking fast, she said, “He’s going to get back to me.”

“Oh, fudge,” Rita said. “I was sure you could persuade him. Should I call Bo? He’ll be disappointed, but maybe he’ll have another idea that Madame Newhouse will go for.” Bo Harrison was the photographer Felicity always used unless her clients specified someone else.

“Don’t call him yet. I mean, Reed didn’t say no.”

Rita shrugged. “Okay. I guess if anyone can get a yes out of him, it’s you.”

Felicity told herself she hadn’t really lied to Rita in implying that Reed was thinking about allowing the use of Rosedale for the photos. Her mind whirled as she escaped into the relative privacy of the War Room—so named because it was used to plan the strategy for their large events.

Now what? she thought, trying not to panic.

But she knew the answer.

She would have to get over her embarrassment, pick up the phone and call Reed.

Now.

Two

Reed had the phone in his hand. He’d just finished talking with Jack Finnerty, who wanted to buy a broodmare, and was about to call his mother to say that, yes, he’d be there for dinner tonight, when the phone rang.

Glancing at the caller ID, he saw Weddings By Felicity. He hesitated only a moment before pressing the talk button.

“Reed Kelly.”

“Reed? This is Felicity.”

“Hey. I’m glad you called. Beat me to the punch. I’d planned to call you later to thank you for returning my deposit.” Would she say anything about what had happened between them earlier?

“You’re welcome.”

“You gave me too much, though. You must have had some expenses connected with our canceled wedding.”

“My expenses were negligible. You don’t owe me anything. However, I do need a favor.” Her voice was crisp and businesslike.

He finally realized she wasn’t going to mention the episode in the stables. Good. That made things easier. They could both pretend it hadn’t happened.

“What do you need?” he said, equally businesslike.

“I’m handling Portia Newhouse’s wedding, and she and her mother have set their heart on having her photos taken at Rosedale Farms. Would you consider that? They’re willing to pay whatever you would want to charge.”

Normally, Reed would have refused this kind of request. But he did owe Felicity, and there was something to be said for creating goodwill with the Newhouses.

“What are we talking about?” he asked. “I don’t want tons of people tramping about, and absolutely no TV cameras or paparazzi.”

“No, of course not. It would only be the wedding party, the parents and immediate family, my photographer and his assistant, and me and my assistant.”

Reed thought for a minute, finally saying, “That sounds okay.” He made a swift calculation. “The fee will be five thousand dollars. Will they go for that?”

“They’ll be happy to pay it. Thank you, Reed. Portia will be thrilled.”

“When’s the wedding taking place?”

“In three weeks. Um, one more thing. Bo—that’s my photographer—and I will need to stop by as soon as possible to scout out different locations. Is that okay?”

“Sure. You can come out tomorrow, if you like.”

“Great. I’ll call Bo to see what his schedule is like. Ten o’clock tomorrow morning would be best for me. Would that work?”

Reed looked at his calendar. Nothing urgent was penciled in for the morning. “That’ll be fine. We can meet at my office.”

Thanking him again, she hung up.