Sharon Swan - Her Necessary Husband

“Look,” she said, deciding it was time to stop skirting the issue, “I’ll admit I’m more than getting the feeling that for some reason you don’t think I’m right for this position.”

And maybe it wasn’t right for her, she mused, all at once aware of precisely how attractive this specific member of the male species was—not to the female half of the population in general, which was probably a given, but to her in particular.

Good heavens, she couldn’t still have a crush on Ross Hayward, former Golden Boy. That would be ridiculous.

“Why don’t we just declare this visit over?” she suggested, then slanted a sidelong look out a curtained window and waited for the expected agreement.

Rather than simply concurring, however, the man seated across from her held back a grimace at her abruptly brisk tone. He hadn’t meant, Ross thought, to be quite so obvious about having reservations where this woman was concerned—reservations resulting from a recent conversation he had no trouble recalling.

“People are bound to talk if a widowed man still in his early thirties hires a single woman in her twenties as a live-in housekeeper,” Tom Kennedy, Harmony’s veteran police chief, had pointed out when Ross had stopped by police headquarters for a brief chat after his initial interview with Jenna. And hard on the heels of that statement, Ross remembered, the longtime friend of the Hayward family had gone on to share some news.

“Normally, I’d say it’s your choice on whether to just ignore the gossip,” Tom had told him. “But voters gossip, too, and you know our mayor is pushing seventy, and I’ve heard he may not decide to run again. That means we could wind up with another Hayward in the mayor’s office next year, provided you’re interested.”

And he was interested. Ross couldn’t deny that. His grandfather had been the last Mayor Hayward, and it was a sure bet that the old man, rest his stubbornly upright soul, would have counted on his direct descendant and the sole grandson to bear the Hayward name to try to follow in his footsteps. Especially since the old man’s only son had already left a black mark on the pages of the family history.

Ross knew it could be argued that he had been an upstanding citizen of Harmony right from the day he’d been born into one of the founding families first to settle the city. For generations most Haywards had been dedicated to getting things done and had won respect for their achievements. As time passed, some residents had even come to expect Haywards to set an example of what good stock and hard work could accomplish.

What no one had expected a Hayward man to do was to walk out on his wife of many years and head off to Southern California to live the life of an aging playboy. Which was exactly what his father had done, Ross thought grimly. And if he hoped to be mayor in spite of Martin Hayward’s hardly admirable behavior, it could only be smart to look after his own good standing in the community.

So, taking all of that into account, he’d been having a devil of a time making up his mind about whether to offer Jenna Lorenzo the job.

There was no question that he needed to fill the position—and fairly soon, what with Myra Hastings having to leave at the end of the month to care for her elderly mother full-time. But replacing his middle-aged housekeeper with a younger person who, while perhaps no true beauty, was still a striking-looking woman, might not be the wisest course he’d come to recognize.

And now that woman had just handed him an easy out.

The thing was, for some reason he found himself reluctant to take it. Not yet, anyway.

“Let’s not be too quick to throw in the towel,” he told her.

A fast frown formed on his visitor’s brow as she pulled her gaze away from the window. “I don’t understand. Either you want to hire me or—”

“Daddy!” a young voice wailed, breaking into the conversation. A rosy-cheeked blonde dressed in a pink cotton top with matching pants soon appeared in the doorway to the living room. She was a six-year-old bundle of usually cheerful energy. Yet despite her angelic looks, Ross knew full well she could sometimes be as mischievous as a pint-size imp.

“My daughter Katie,” he explained to his guest before fixing his attention on his youngest child. “What’s wrong, sunshine?”

Katie brushed back a small tear as she ran to him. “Pandora lost her hair again!” She held out a doll wearing a well-worn yellow satin gown and sporting a jumble of deep auburn curls.

Ross studied the object in question. It was a collector’s item more than a child’s toy, but his mother had presented it to Katie on her third birthday, anyway, with the warning to be careful when she played with it. Reality had, of course, stepped in; the doll had clearly seen better days. Nevertheless, Katie continued to favor it over most of her other toys.

“We’ll try to glue it on one more time,” he said, lifting his gaze from the delicate porcelain forehead sadly lacking a wide fringe of bangs. “Where’s the part that fell off?”

“I don’t know. Myra said it could be in the vacuum cleaner, ’cause she cleaned this morning.” Katie’s lower lip trembled. “Can you get it out, Daddy?”

Ross held back a sigh. “Even if I could find it,” he explained as gently as possible, “it would probably be in too bad a shape to save it.”

“But you could,” Jenna pointed out as she entered the discussion, “cut off some of what’s left and make a new hairdo.”

Him? Provide a doll with an entirely different hairdo? Ross couldn’t even imagine it. “I’m not sure I could do that if my life depended on it,” he admitted dryly.

“Could you?” Katie asked, spinning around.

Ross sat forward. “Katie, this is Ms. Lorenzo,” he said, completing the introduction.

Jenna smiled softly. “Pleased to meet you, Katie. May I see your doll for a minute?”

“Sure.” Katie took a seat beside Jenna and handed Pandora over. “Do you know how to do hair stuff?” She studied the woman next to her with a doubtful tilt of her head.

“Mmm-hmm.” Jenna’s smile took a knowing slant. “I wear my hair straight back like this,” she explained, smoothing a hand over the thick coil at the nape of her neck, “because it’s long, and this is the best way to keep it neat.”

“How long?”

“Almost to my waist.”

“Wow.” Katie’s eyes went wide. “How do you wash it?”

“It takes time,” Jenna allowed. She inspected the doll. “One of my sisters has hair this color. And another one has naturally curly hair she keeps short, like yours.”

Katie folded her small hands in her lap. “How many sisters and brothers have you got?”

“No brothers. Three younger sisters. And I helped all three fix their hair while they were growing up.”

Katie mulled that over. “Maybe Pandora could wear her hair like the twins on the TV show I watch sometimes after school.”

“You might be on to something there,” Jenna agreed after a moment, clearly recognizing the show in question when Ross had no clue. Myra wouldn’t, either, he knew, despite the fact that she was here every day when his daughters got home from school.

His current housekeeper was a fine person in her own right who cooked good, healthy meals, kept his house sparkling clean and could be trusted without question to watch over his children whenever he was away. Yet, for all of Myra’s virtues, taking time from her busy day to watch a kid’s television show with Katie on occasion would simply not have occurred to her.

But it obviously would to Jenna.

While a spirited discussion of how the new hairdo might be best achieved continued, Ross found himself wondering how his visitor would look with her own midnight-dark hair spilling past her shoulders and down her back.

Exotic, he decided. Yet classically female, as well. In fact, her oval-shaped face with its straight nose, high cheekbones and fine, creamy skin—not to mention those chestnut-brown eyes that slanted up slightly at the corners—would probably look right at home in a painting by one of the old masters.

As to the rest of her, he couldn’t make out enough to judge. Both of the tailored outfits he’d seen her in so far were by no means formfitting. Still, although she was several inches shorter than his own six-feet-plus, petite wasn’t the word that came to mind. Not when he suspected that a full figure with plenty of curves might be lurking out of sight.

Whatever the case, she’d been in his thoughts ever since their initial meeting. Something about her had captured his attention, that was plain. Something that might turn out to have little to do with her qualifications as housekeeper, if he wanted to investigate the matter further.

One thing for certain, when it came to her qualifications, she was the right choice to run his household, as he’d concluded soon after she’d offered her credentials. If he’d had the least lingering doubts about that, the way she was currently chatting so easily with Katie would have routed them once and for all.

Too bad Tom Kennedy had hit the nail on the head, Ross thought, recognizing that more than ever as his hooded gaze silently told him in no uncertain terms just how striking Jenna Lorenzo was—how vivid, how…alive she looked against a backdrop of almost total white. People were bound to talk if she moved in and took Myra’s place. Despite Harmony’s genuinely friendly atmosphere, gossip was a fact of life.

And the truth was that even if he chose to ignore the gossip, he was a long way from certain he’d be doing the fair thing by subjecting this woman to it.

Logic said to just tell her face to face that it wouldn’t work out and to thank her for her trouble, which he’d undeniably been of more than half a mind to do when she’d arrived on his doorstep. On the other hand, something that went beyond pure logic was still urging him not to let her go so easily.

Ross frowned at the knowledge that he had to make up his mind before his prospective housekeeper decided he’d left her hanging long enough and walked out on him.

JENNA SOMEHOW FOUND herself seated at a round, glass-topped kitchen table, a pair of shiny scissors and a small tube of clear glue set in front of her on a gray-and-white-checked place mat. Moments earlier she’d learned that the deep blue eyes belonging to the youngest member of the Hayward household could be very persuasive when attempting a woeful look. Even before Katie had followed it up with a whispered, “Please,” Jenna had suspected that her immediate future would include treating Pandora to a new hairdo.

Probably only an objection from the man now seated beside her would have changed her fate, she reflected as she placed a silver-gray linen dishtowel trimmed in lace around the doll’s neck. Instead, Ross had merely suggested that they adjourn to the rear of the house, where he’d again played host, offering refreshment and providing what materials she needed to get the job done. Then he’d settled into a chrome-backed chair in his not surprisingly gleaming kitchen and seemed to sink into his thoughts, as he had during most of their time in the living room.

What was he thinking so hard about? Jenna had to wonder. And was she going to be offered the position or not?

“Myra’s gonna be surprised to see how Pandora looks when she gets back.” Katie tucked small feet snuggled into pink socks under her and leaned in from her seat at Jenna’s other side. “Do you start cutting now?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Jenna sat the doll on the table, picked up the scissors and carefully began her task, her eyes narrowing for a better look. Her thoughts drifted to the brief meeting that had taken place in the hallway outside the kitchen just before Myra Hastings, a tall, thin woman with short salt-and-pepper hair, had left to visit her elderly mother who remained hospitalized after a stroke.