Weekend Wife by Carolyn Zane Page A

her glass between her thumb and fingers. “It was one of the most bitter pills I’ve ever had to swallow. But I know that if I can help just one or two people at a time, I’m moving forward.”
    Ty’s curious green eyes were filled with admiration for her. “I’ve never spent much time worrying about anybody but myself,” he admitted, his smile self-deprecating. “Unless you count people like Roxanne—people who get in my way.”
    “That’s not true, Ty.” Emily’s voice was soft. “You’re helping us. More than you’ll ever know.” Every time she thought about the creeps who could have picked her up at the side of the road, she was grateful all over again for his generosity.
    “I’m glad I can help,” he said sincerely, his eyes growing warm under her earnest praise. “Hey. Enough of this macabre conversation. It’s too late to save the world today anyway. How about a quick dip before we turn in?”
    Adrenaline surged through her veins. He might as well find out the truth now. Just another embarrassing thing he should probably be aware of before they set sail. “Uh...actually, I don’t swim,” she admitted and, taking a deep breath, peered into the darkness through the flickering candles at him for his reaction.
    “You don’t swim?”
    “No, but that’s okay, I’ll be happy to watch you. Go ahead,” she suggested, hoping he’d back off.
    “Oh, you should learn to swim. It could save your life someday. You could drown without the basics.”
    Emily grimaced. “No, really. I solve the whole problem by staying away from the water altogether.” She smiled brightly.
    “Come on. I insist.” Ty waved a confident hand in her direction. “No big deal. I can teach you. We should probably practice being married some more anyway. After all, tomorrow night is our big debut with Roxanne.”
    A jolt of fear ran down her spine. So soon? Were they ready? Looking across the table at this powerful, confident businessman, Emily’s fears somewhat dissipated. He must know what he’s doing.
    “Okay, uh, sure,” she agreed as more than one doubt about this swimming lesson entered her mind. Hesitating, she stood to leave. “A swimming lesson sounds... er, uh, okay, I guess. I’ll just go get my suit,” she promised, and headed into the house.
    Learning to swim before the cruise was probably a good idea, she admitted grudgingly to herself. Especially since she was notorious for sinking like a rock. And, unfortunately, she was even worse in the water than on it. Her twin sister Erica must have hogged all the genes for water sports, for she adored swimming and boating. Too bad she wasn’t here now, Emily mused as she trudged up the stairs to her room. Erica would probably prefer pinch hitting for her on a cruise to Mexico, to taking care of the less than delightful Spencer kids out in the middle of nowhere.
    She should probably call Erica and check in, she reflected, rummaging through her drawer for her new bathing suit. Find out how she was doing. Hopefully, she and Will were getting along okay.
    Will. Squeezing her eyes tightly shut, she tried to conjure his image up in her mind, but visions of Ty’s extraordinarily handsome face interfered with her reception, and she finally gave up. The niggling worry that absence was definitely not making the heart grow fonder with Will bothered her. Maybe she could talk it over with Erica, if she had a chance to call her. But then again, maybe not. Erica would only gloat, telling her that she always fell in love at the drop of a hat, and then probably threaten to kill her for making her stand in for her latest passing fancy. Poor Erica. Emily winced as a pang of guilt assailed her. Hopefully someday her twin would forgive her for making her spend her summer with the widower Will and his two holy terrors.
    * * *
    “Hey, hey, hey! Relax,” Ty commanded, peeling Emily’s arms from around his neck. She was coughing and sputtering and—unfortunately for Ty—grabbing at