All Chapters of He Called Me His Wife’s Cousin : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

"So you're Nathan's cousin." Adrian Doyle said it the moment I sat down in his office, before I'd even set my bag on the floor. I had rehearsed a hundred things on the bus that morning. Not that. "My sister called me yesterday afternoon," he went on, leaning back in his chair. "She was very excited. She said she'd found me the perfect personal secretary, and that you were family." His gray eyes studied me. "Imagine my surprise when she described a woman I'd already hired on the sidewalk." My mouth was dry. Every part of me wanted to say it. *I'm not his cousin. I'm his wife.* Then I thought of Ethan's appointment on Thursday. Of the eleven hundred dollars. "Small world," I said. It came out steady. Six years of practice. "Very small." He didn't smile. "I want to be clear, Ms. Whitfield. I hired you before Rachel called. You're here because you picked up every page on that sidewalk with your hands shaking and didn't cry in front of a stranger. Not because of who you're related t

"Or should I call you cousin?" Adrian didn't move from the wall. His voice was so quiet the bass from the main room nearly swallowed it. I pulled my robe tighter over the blue dress. "Mr. Doyle." "Don't." His jaw was tight. "Don't do the polite voice. Not here." "You weren't supposed to be here." "Clearly." He pushed off the wall and took one step toward me. The red exit light slid across his face. "Marcus told me Hartwell asked for one dancer by name. I thought it was a joke. Claire, the girl with rules." His eyes moved over me, slow and cold. "Then I walk in, and my new secretary is on the stage." My cheeks burned. "I didn't know it was your dinner until Wednesday." "Wednesday." He almost laughed. "You tried to move the venue on Wednesday. You asked me if I'd be leaving early." His voice dropped. "You knew exactly where I'd be tonight." "I asked because I didn't *want* you here!" "Or because you wanted to be sure I'd see you." I stared at him. "What?" "Let me tell you how

"Because my son's medicine costs more than this job pays." I said it before I had decided to. Rachel's finger was still pressed on my name on the invoice. She blinked. "Your son?" "Ethan. He has a heart condition." I kept my voice low. Marcus was ten feet away, pretending very hard not to listen. "The club pays in one night what I make here in a week. I dance. That's all I do. I don't..." I stopped. "That's all." Rachel stared at me. Her lipstick was perfect. Her eyes were red at the rims. "Does Nathan know?" she asked. A laugh tried to climb up my throat. I swallowed it. "Nathan knows exactly how much it costs," I said. She didn't hear what I really meant. I watched her not hear it. "You could have asked me." Her voice cracked. "I would have helped. That's what family does, Claire. You let me walk into my brother's office and tell him you were..." She pressed her lips together. "I vouched for you." "I know." "I don't understand you." She picked up the invoice and folded it

"Yes," I said. "He was with me." Rachel's cup stopped halfway to her mouth. "He came to my apartment last night," I said. "At nine. It was raining." I watched her face. I watched her decide whether she wanted to hear the rest. "Why?" she whispered. The truth was right there, one breath away. *Because he's my husband. Because he has a son who waited by a window for six years.* I couldn't say it. Not here. Not like this, in a café that smelled of warm bread, with a waiter calling us *madame*. But I was done lying for him. "He brought an envelope," I said. "With money. He told me to quit my job with your brother. He told me to stay away from you. He told me to never let you see me again." Rachel's lips parted. No sound came out. "Why would he want that?" she said finally. "You're family." I held her gaze across the little marble table. "Ask him," I said quietly. A tram rattled past outside. Somewhere behind the counter, milk hissed in a steamer. Then Rachel pushed back her c

"It's a lie." My voice rang across the silent lobby. Somebody at the coffee cart set a cup down, and the small click of it carried all the way to the elevators. Adrian crossed the marble in six long strides. He took the papers out of my hands and read them right there, in front of Janelle and the whole coffee line. *Stalking. Harassment.* I watched his jaw go hard. "Not here," he said. He put his hand at the small of my back, warm through my coat, and steered me past the staring faces into the elevator. The doors closed on all of them. A sound came out of me, half laugh and half sob. I pressed my forehead against the cold steel wall. Adrian didn't say a word. But he stood close enough that I could smell cedar the whole way up. His office door was already open. A woman in a gray suit stood by the window with a folder. And sitting in Adrian's leather chair, one leg crossed over the other, holding a cup of Adrian's coffee, was Nathan. He smiled when he saw me. The same warm smi