Read Wife for Hire Online

Authors: Christine Bell

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary Romance, #Ireland, #Irish, #couples retreat, #billionaire, #fake husband, #con artist, #United Kingdom, #New York, #fake marriage, #Colorado, #Christine Bell, #Fake wife, #marriage retreat

Wife for Hire (14 page)

BOOK: Wife for Hire
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Chapter Seventeen

“I got it.”

Lindy’s cheeks burned. She looked up from the magazine she’d been pretending to read to see Owen standing over her, a triumphant smile lighting his handsome face. She’d been so lost in erotic memories of the night before she hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Got what?”

“The fingerprint.”

Of course. She’d been so caught up in her naughty daydream about him, she hadn’t remembered today was the day. He hadn’t had an opportunity to steal the water bottle during his first yoga class, so he’d endured another before deciding to try Liza’s me-time meditation class instead. Less chance of a pulled groin or a torn Achilles, he’d said. She hadn’t minded. The delay had given them three amazing nights together that she wouldn’t have traded for anything.

“That’s good news.”

“I thought so. I already took a ride down to the FedEx office and had it overnighted to Gavin. We should hear late tomorrow, if all goes well.”

She gave him an encouraging smile, but inside, she died a little. They had one more week, but if they were able to get to the bottom of things sooner, it would be less than that. Less time to be with Owen, kissing and touching and living. She cleared her throat. “Awesome. I know you’re anxious to get this over with.”

He sat down in the chair across from her and seemed to wrestle with himself for a moment. He took a quick glance around the empty great room and leaned closer. “Liza made a pass at me.”

She set down the magazine, shocked by the hot fury that flooded her. “Really.”

“It was subtle, but I’m fairly certain. Thing is, when I rebuffed her, she made like I’d misread it somehow. It was odd to say the least. I’m thinking your whole theory on Nico might hold true for Liza as well. It will be interesting to see what Gavin turns up, but I feel like the answer is right there, almost in our reach.”

She tried to compartmentalize. Liza’s actions likely had nothing to do with Owen. She was doing her job, whatever that entailed.
Like I should be doing
, she reminded herself with a jolt of guilt. She was here to help Owen, and all she’d done for the last few days was baby her bruise and grind all over her boss. Things were coming to a close fast. She needed to start pulling away if she had any hope of coming out of this in one piece.

“I have a session with Sarabeth in five minutes, but we can get into it more when I get back. You going to be around later?”

“If you’re going to be around, I’ll make sure of it.” He stood and reached down to help her to her feet. “I’m sure Sarabeth wouldn’t mind if you were a little late today.” Tipping her back in his arms, he slanted his mouth over hers in a searing kiss. Cupping her neck, he drew lazy patterns on her chin with his thumb, and his tongue slipped between her lips for a taste.

It would be so easy to pretend that his tenderness meant something. That this was more than a sexual fling for him. But it didn’t. And it wasn’t. She pulled away and straightened. “I can’t. I’ve really got to go. I’ll see you tonight.”

He gave her a puzzled look but didn’t try to stop her.

By the time she reached Sarabeth’s office, she had resorted to biting her lip to hold back the tears. When the other woman opened the door with a warm smile, Lindy couldn’t help it. She burst into tears.

Sarabeth pulled her into the office and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Sit. Come on, sit.”

Lindy sat on the couch, and instead of sitting across from her as was her custom, Sarabeth curled in next to her. “Please, Lindy, tell me what’s wrong. I’m here to help.”

The concern in her clear green eyes was so genuine it only made Lindy cry harder. Geez, she hoped Sarabeth wasn’t part of this mess. Lindy really liked the young doctor. Under different circumstances, they would’ve certainly been friends. There was a shit-storm brewing, and she hated to see her in the middle of it. Guilt over her deceit sent her tears into overdrive, and she let out a few pathetic snuffles to go along with them.

She opened her mouth and realized with a start that she was a hair’s breadth from spilling her guts. Not okay. She swiped a hand over her eyes and tried to think of what to say that would relieve some of this emotional turmoil, but not blow their cover.

“I love my husband to pieces, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t love me,” she blurted.

Geez, tell her how you really feel, Lindy.

Sarabeth’s eyes widened and she drew back. “Wait, what? No.” She shook her head emphatically. “No way. I see the way he looks at you. Like he’s calling on every bit of self-control not to ravish you. Frankly, it makes me a little envious,” she said with a laugh. “That look we talked about in our first session? That’s how he is around you.”

Lindy’s heart stuttered a bit before she got a hold of herself. “You’re misreading him. The physical side of things is good, I won’t lie. But the emotional stuff? Not there.”

“Is this because he cheated?”

Lindy winced. She’d forgotten that was their ruse. “No. I’ve moved past that. This is about here and now. I don’t think he ever loved me. I don’t think he will ever allow himself to love anyone.” She buried her face in her palms. “He doesn’t even wear his wedding ring,” she muttered. It hadn’t been her intention to go there, but now that it was out, she realized how much that bothered her. Owen’s bare finger was a glaring reminder that she had zero chance of a happily ever after with him. A symbol of his absolute conviction that love equaled pain, and she had no clue how to change his mind.

Sarabeth blew out a sigh. “I shouldn’t tell you this. It’s my job to listen, not talk. But the other night when we played that blindfold game? You should’ve seen his face when you touched him. It was like magic. If the two of you weren’t so caught up, you would have realized. The whole room got quiet, and all the other men were eyeing Owen like he was the luckiest guy in the world. Now I don’t know about a ring, or what his reasons behind that are, but I know one thing. That man loves you.”

Lindy rubbed absently at her temple, desperately trying to ward off the headache building there. What if she was right? What if Owen did love her but wasn’t ready to face it yet? She tried not to let the hope build, but it was a force to be reckoned with, blossoming in her chest before she could squash it.

“I’ve got an idea.” Sarabeth had reverted to her professional voice, and that somehow gave Lindy comfort. Surely a doctor would be able to come up with a good solution.

Sarabeth stood and went to her desk. After a moment of shuffling around, she returned holding a deck of cards. “Bring these back to your room tonight and see if he’ll play with you.”

Lindy took them and read the back.
Couple’s Truth or Dare.

“I give them to couples when they need a push to communicate. The men like it because some of the dares are really naughty,” she said with a half-smile. “But there are also a lot of soul-baring questions in the truth pile. I’ve had many people tell me that it prompted some real heart to heart talks. Maybe Owen just needs an opening to tell you how he’s feeling.”

It sure couldn’t hurt. Unless, of course, he was feeling exactly what she feared he was…

Nothing at all.


Owen stepped through the suite door and looked around the dim room for Lindy. She’d skipped out at dinner a few minutes early, saying she needed to make a call. Could she really have made her call and fallen asleep in the time it took him to say his goodbyes? He hoped not. Their time was growing short, and he found that he couldn’t get enough of her these past couple of days. He shoved back the sick feeling he got in the pit of his stomach whenever he thought of it, because at the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Once they left Colorado, there was no way it could continue. Sure, he could likely convince her otherwise, but Lindy deserved to be loved and he didn’t have any of that to give.

“Hey,” she called from the bedroom doorway. She had on a peach baby-doll nightgown he’d never seen before, and blast of need sizzled through him.

“You look delicious.” He crossed the room and stopped a few feet away for a closer inspection. “Absolutely delicious.” He reached out and traced the neckline with his finger, marveling at the softness of her skin. The pulse in her neck fluttered, and it sent a jolt straight to his groin. She was so responsive.

“I have a game for us to play,” she said, taking a step back into the candlelit bedroom.

“I will play any game you want,” he growled, following her. “Boss and secretary. Doctor and nurse. Or, if we want to take it into the twenty-first century, scientist and equally intelligent and highly respected scientist.”

She laughed, just as he’d hoped, and he tried not to examine why that put such a pep in his step. “None of those, although I wouldn’t rule it out.” She grabbed a deck of cards from the nightstand and thrust them toward him. “Sarabeth gave them to me, and it sounded fun.”

He didn’t bother to look. If there was a sex game, and this gorgeous woman wanted to play it with him, he certainly wasn’t about to argue.

“Let’s do it.”

She sat on the bed and prepared the cards while he slipped off his tie and stripped down to his T-shirt and boxers. He settled across from her, eyeing the neat piles stacked on a breakfast tray. The red stack of cards had the word
Dare
emblazoned on them, the blue,
Truth
. She leaned forward and handed him a die with three red sides and three blue. The fabric covering her breasts dipped, and he found himself momentarily entranced by the valley between them.

“The rules are simple. Roll and pick a card.”

He took the die and blew on it playfully before tossing it. It skittered across the tray and landed on blue. He scowled at the cards. “I want a do over.”

“No way, pal.” She plucked up a card and cleared her throat. “What it the sexiest part of your opponent’s body?”

He took his time about it. There was so much to choose from. Her breasts. Her legs. That ass. “Your lips,” he said, locking his gaze on the part in question. She flushed with pleasure, wetting them nervously and he grinned.

“Your turn.”

She looked almost giddy as she rolled. “Blue,” she said and laughed when he groaned.

He picked a blue card and read. “If you could bottle one of your opponent’s personality traits, what would it be?”

She regarded him for second, and answered without hesitation. “Your loyalty.”

Her answer took him by surprise and he forgot to obsess over the mysterious red cards for a second. “Really?”

She nodded. “I think because you prize it so highly in others, you make sure to embody that trait yourself. What you’re doing here for Cara is remarkable. Most people would’ve handed her a check, maybe taken her out and gotten her drunk, and then went on with their own lives. Not you.”

Her eyes shined. For him. She looked so animated and beautiful, it hurt. He cleared his throat, looking away. “I appreciate that.”

She handed him the die. “You’re up.”

He rolled, suddenly wondering if this was the best idea. Things could get sticky if they kept landing on—

“Blue,” she said with a stiff sounding laugh. She took up the card and read. “Tell your opponent a secret that you’ve never told another soul.”

He sat there, debating how to handle this one. He cared about Lindy and clearly the game was important to her. But, shit, he did not want to do this. He steeled himself. “When I was nine, I broke the basket off Mary Callahan’s bike. I glued it on, and it fell off the next day. I never confessed.”

Lindy smiled, but her heart wasn’t in it. Whatever she’d been hoping for, it wasn’t that. Before he could call a halt to their game and suggest something less bloody awful, she rolled.

“Red,” she said, sending him a coy look under her lashes.

Thank God. He selected a card and read. “Pretend you’re at a swanky strip club and give your opponent a sexy striptease.” Jackpot. Surely that would break the weird tension between them and get a whole new kind of tension brewing.

He picked up the tray and set it on the nightstand, before propping up the pillows and settling back onto the bed.

“What kind of music would you like?” he asked. Her eyes were wide and she fidgeted with her wedding band. He wondered briefly if she’d back out, but she raised her chin and sent him a saucy grin.

“Big band, maybe?”

The vice that had gripped his chest loosened. He’d thought it was over. That she was going to try to push him somewhere he wasn’t going to go. But here she was, his take-no-prisoners Lindy. His for now, at least.

He picked up the stereo remote and flipped through until he found a classic R&B station. Strains of Otis Redding poured from the surround sound speakers.

She climbed off the edge of the bed and made her way around to his side. Her hips swayed as she moved, keeping sensual time with her steps. The girl had moves. She held his gaze and lifted an elegant hand to her neck, trailing it slowly, so slowly, down. Tracing her delicate collarbone, slipping into the gentle valley of her cleavage. She ran her thumb over her nipple, drawing it to a stiff peak. His breath caught in his throat.

She twisted, gyrated, swiveled, and shook. The whole time, he was enthralled. No strip club in the world ever had it so good. She turned away and bent low, peering at him from the V between her thighs. Laying her palms on her ass cheeks, she gave a squeeze just like he wanted so badly to do. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he tugged at the neck of his T-shirt.

She turned back to face him and reached for the hem of her nightie. “You ready, Irish?” she whispered.

“Hell, yes.” His body was jacked and primed to blow. He didn’t take his eyes off her as she tugged the silk up to reveal her stomach and those beautiful breasts. She tossed the nightgown aside and moved to crawl on top of him.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he rasped.

She paused, and he slipped a finger under the elastic of her panties. “Boy, you’re greedy, aren’t you?”

He didn’t answer with words, opting instead to close his fist around the scrap of satin and doing what he’d wanted to do earlier that week. They snapped off in his hands and she gasped. He didn’t wait for her to catch her breath. He spanned her waist and dragged her on top of him. Her body molded instantly to his, her soft parts lining up with his hard ones, her slick center pressing against his swollen shaft. Thank God she was as turned on as he was. He wanted her now, hard and dirty.

BOOK: Wife for Hire
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