Hired Wife by Karen Van Der Zee

Author:Karen Van Der Zee
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1999-11-15T00:00:00+00:00

She did have a headache the next afternoon, a heavy throbbing in her head that seemed to mimic the weather outside. The sky loomed dark and ominous, the air was thick and damp—a tropical downpour in the making.

Kim seldom had headaches and she didn’t like this one. It wasn’t fair, and she had not a clue as to what might have caused it. She was having such a great day. In the morning she’d gone to the plant and flower market and bought several carloads of greenery for the house and veranda, haggling and joking good-naturedly with the vendors. She loved the markets, loved the busyness and color and fun.

She’d spent the afternoon repotting the plants into decorative containers and arranging them in the various places that called out for foliage. It transformed the rooms, gave them life and an atmosphere of cool, green airiness. The veranda looked like a lovely garden room, something straight out of a glossy magazine.

It was four o’clock now and the world lay shrouded in a gloomy darkness. Normally she found it exciting, this stark contrast with the radiant tropical sunshine that had bathed the world only half an hour earlier. She liked the drama of a sudden rainfall, the passion of a really good deluge. It would be over as suddenly as it had started and the sun would come out again and the world would gleam and drip with freshness.

She felt no excitement now, only an unfamiliar, brooding apprehension. Her head throbbed, her heart felt strangely heavy. She wanted to get out of the house and get back to the hotel before the world would be awash in water. She barely made it.

In the room she found a note from Sam saying something had come up and he was unable to make it for dinner tonight and that he would probably be late coming back.

She sighed, disappointed and relieved at the same time. What she really felt like doing was having a bath, putting on her bathrobe and ordering some food from room service. Maybe there was a good movie on television, or maybe she’d simply crawl into bed with a good book. Good grief, what was the matter with her? She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt this way—it wasn’t like her to feel so gloomy and listless for no reason at all.

It was after midnight when she finally heard Sam come into the sitting room. She’d dozed off and on, unable to really fall asleep, her mind restless and uneasy. She slipped out of bed, put on her kimono and made her way into the sitting room.

Sam stood at the window, staring out into the darkness. His jacket lay on a nearby chair. She noticed the rigid stance of his body, the taut line of his shoulders under the white dress shirt. An unaccountable apprehension slithered through her.

“Sam?” she asked softly, hearing the concern in her voice.

He turned to look at her. “I thought you’d be in bed,” he said, his voice without inflection.

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