His Pretend Wife. Lisette Belisle

else. That something was Abigail…Abby.

      She was playing some sort of game, pretending to be his wife. What were the advantages, the risks? They were totally mismatched, and he didn’t know the rules.

      An image of her appeared…Abby clearly flustered when she’d kissed him. Forced to pretend she actually enjoyed it, she’d looked so annoyed, like a treed cat, spitting and clawing, unable to scratch his eyes out when he’d kissed her back in the nurse’s presence.

      He smiled.

      Much better.

      Abby desperately needed a break. She hadn’t left the hospital in days. Although everyone was kind and helpful, they expected her to behave like a wife. Jack’s wife. Letting him in on their secret had been difficult. At the moment, continuing the pretence was beyond her acting ability.

      On her way out of the hospital, Abby caught a fleeting glimpse of Jack’s surgeon. Determined to question the doctor about Jack’s prognosis, she followed him down one hall, then another. She caught up with him near an exit.

      “Excuse me, I wonder if I could have a moment, I’d like to discuss a patient—Jack Slade.”

      The doctor was surprisingly youthful considering his reputation as a first-rate orthopedic surgeon. Obviously in a hurry, he glanced at his watch. “I have a plane to catch.”

      “This won’t take long.” Abby needed to tie up a few loose ends before going home to Henderson. She might not be Jack’s wife, but she was the only available person who could run interference with the hospital staff and speak on his behalf. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”

      “Don’t thank me just yet,” he said bluntly.

      Swallowing hard, Abby braced herself for more bad news. “But I was told the surgery went well.”

      “Your husband will recover. Technically, we saved his leg. As you know, the surgery is experimental and there’s no guarantee how much use the leg will be to him.”

      Abby absorbed the shock. “So what can be done for him? I don’t care what it costs.”

      “It’s not a matter of cost,” he said more gently.

      “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

      “There are things that can be done. Maintaining his general physical and mental health are vital. When it’s time, he’ll be transferred to a rehabilitation unit. And that’s where the tough part comes in. That’s where you come in.”

      She bit her lip. “I don’t understand.”

      “Over the next months, he’s going to be fighting an uphill battle. Much of his success will depend on his desire to get well. He’s going to need you.”

      Months!

      Reminded that she was playing a temporary role, Abby saw all the pitfalls she’d ignored before. How could she have thought to escape the repercussions of pretending to be Jack’s wife?

      “Yes, of course,” she agreed, but wasn’t this taking pretence too far?

      “This must seem overwhelming. It’s all going to take time. I hope he’s the patient sort.”

      Abby smiled. “No, he’s not.” Jack burned energy just standing still, which made his injuries all the more tragic.

      The doctor glanced at his wristwatch again. “I still have a plane to catch.”

      “But what do I tell Jack?”

      “The truth—when you think he’s ready to hear it.”

      “When will that be?”

      He left her with an ambiguous, “You’ll know.”

      How would she know?

      Jack was a virtual stranger. They’d rarely spoken before his accident. Once, Jack had driven her home and they’d hardly exchanged a word. She’d given him directions to her house. He’d acted as if he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. The feeling had been entirely mutual. Abby had never spent a more uncomfortable fifteen minutes. Until now.

      She had no idea what constituted Jack’s inner thoughts or feelings—if he had any.

      Abby walked down a corridor, then another. Like a maze, every hallway looked alike, every door remained closed. She saw an open door. She walked hastily toward it, anxious to find a way out. But instead of an exit, she found herself in a large room with a wall of sunlit windows overlooking park-like grounds and a pond. There was no way out.

      Startled, she stared at her own reflection in the glass. Her face was drawn, her eyes looked bruised from lack of sleep. Yes, she’d lost sleep over Jack Slade. She was in grave danger of losing much, much more. Like a diamond in the rough, Jack had a devastating charm she couldn’t deny.

      Despite that undeniable threat, she didn’t regret her decision to pose as his wife, thereby insisting his surgery be delayed until a specialist could be consulted. The hospital staff had never questioned her claim. If the facts were to come out now, there might be legal repercussions. At the very least, the situation would be embarrassing for everyone concerned.

      She smiled faintly, recalling her mother’s frequent warning that pride would be Abby’s downfall. She really had no choice but to continue the deception. Earlier, she’d been relieved when Jack had agreed. It was too late for second thoughts now.

      So, why was she having them?

      She was so mixed up. She’d once heard that if you saved a life, that person belonged to you. Abby shuddered at the thought.

      Moments later, she found an exit and pushed her way through a set of heavy revolving doors. She stood on the pavement, breathing in the frigid air. The wind carried a bite. Wrapping her coat around her, she began to walk. She passed some skaters on the frozen pond. It all seemed so normal, yet nothing in her life felt real.

      She checked into a nearby hotel.

      The desk clerk raised an eyebrow at her lack of luggage. “How long do you plan to stay?”

      “A day or two.” Abby had no idea. In all conscience, could she go back to Henderson and leave Jack to cope on his own? She couldn’t think of that now.

      Her hotel room wasn’t luxurious, but it was more than adequate. After a long soak in the bathtub, she wrapped herself in a terry bathrobe provided by the hotel.

      With distaste, she gazed at the clothes she’d worn for the past three days. Her lack of wardrobe wasn’t insurmountable. A phone call to a department store soon resolved the problem. A salesclerk promised to have a selection of lingerie and casual outfits in Abby’s size sent to the hotel for approval. That dealt with, Abby hung up.

      After living in a small town for the last three months, she’d almost forgotten the conveniences of city living—not that she had missed it. She’d moved back to help Drew reopen the sawmill. Her family had closed it down and moved away several years ago, and Abby had gone with them. Returning to Henderson had created some unnecessary complications to her life. For one thing, Seth Powers had read more into her decision than she’d intended. She’d once had a crush on him but that was a long time ago.

      Her parents disapproved of Seth, a small-town sheriff. They wanted Abby to marry well—meaning upward. What would they think of Jack?

      Abby felt weak at the mere thought.

      Or maybe she was weak with hunger?

      Reminded that she hadn’t eaten a decent meal in days, Abby ordered room service. “A mushroom omelet, toast and raspberry tea, if you have it.”

      While waiting for the meal, she picked up the phone and dialed her brother’s phone number. “Hi, Drew. It’s me.”

      His voice sounded warm and familiar. “I wondered when you’d get around to calling. How’s Jack?”

      “I’m