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weekend.”
    “A weekend?” she squeaked.
    “Or two,” he amended.
    “You need a weekend wife? ”
    “Ah, yes, and...probably some weekdays in between, too....”
    Tyler studied her horrified face, while trying to think of a way to explain this whole thing gracefully. He couldn’t lose her now. Not this one. If he could just get her to agree to go along with him, he had a feeling that she would be perfect.
    Before the pizza had arrived and while the company doctor was looking in on Carmen, he’d called the local shopping mall and made some appointments at the hairdresser’s for them. Fashion makeovers weren’t his bag, but the guy at Maxime’s Impressionistic Hair should know his stuff. What the heck? Couldn’t hurt. By the end of the day tomorrow, hopefully they wouldn’t recognize themselves. Hopefully he wouldn’t recognize them, either.
    Although, he mused, even layers of dirt and grime couldn’t hide the classic structure of her face. Tearing his eyes away from the fear he saw etched in her expression, he took a deep breath and decided to plunge in.
    “Actually, I—”
    The phone rang.
    Damn it anyway. He smiled apologetically at her. “That’s the phone in my office, so I know it’s work related. I’d...better get it. I’ll probably be a while, so please, make yourself at home. I promise to tell you everything as soon as I’m finished.”
    Nodding dumbly, Emily watched him go. He wanted her to be his wife, this weekend? And next? And the days in between? What did that mean? Shivering violently at the ugly thoughts that tumbled through her brain, she pushed herself away from the table and ran upstairs on wobbly legs. She told herself she needed to check on Carmen. However, if she were honest, she knew what she really wanted was to check on him. Maybe if she poked around for a while upstairs, she could find some sort of clue as to who—or what—he was. Normal men did not propose marriage to women they found at the side of the road.
    Carmen was sleeping like an angel. It looked like Helga had managed to wipe Carmen’s face and hands before popping her into her first comfortable bed in ages. Her cheeks, scrubbed pink, lay against freshly laundered, lace-edged pillowcases, and her tiny rosebud mouth was pulled into a smile that spoke of pleasant dreams.
    Peeking in across the hall, Emily was glad to see Helga snoring away atop Ty’s large guest bed. The cockamamy tent she’d constructed, just for appearances, was forsaken in favor of a firm mattress.
    It broke her heart, now that she knew Ty was a madman, that by this time tomorrow night they’d be back out on the street. Even though he didn’t seem dangerous so far, she couldn’t take any chances. Shutting the door softly, she tiptoed down the hallway and wondered where to begin sleuthing for clues to this guy’s character. She was seriously thinking about turning him in to the authorities.
    The master suite seemed like the most logical place to start.
    Ty’s large, airy bedroom had that just-unpacked feel. Empty boxes were stacked in a corner, and large, framed pictures leaned against the wall waiting to be hung. The windows still needed curtains, but Emily could tell that when this room was finished it would be fantastic. Across the room, French doors led to a veranda that looked out over the pool area. Next to that, an open archway led to an enormous master bath, done in gleaming chrome, crystal and brass.
    What she wouldn’t give for a bath in this, she thought, running a hand over the whirlpool tub’s smooth, marble surface. Two could probably fit in this tub with room to spare—
    What the heck was she thinking? Daydreaming about taking a bath with that...that...lunatic downstairs? Get a grip.
    Glancing up, she spotted her reflection in the mirror and was horrified by what she saw. She hadn’t checked her appearance in well over a week, and it was clear that outdoor living did not agree with her regular beauty regime.
    Her once