Wife for Hire (For Hire 1)

“You’re telling me,” she said with a derisive snort. “I had the same day you did, but I did it all in two different pairs of four-inch heels.” She slipped off her other shoe and groaned, kneading her coral-tipped toes into the thick carpet.

“Why don’t you let me rub your feet?” The offer was out before he could stop it, but the look on her face kept him from retracting it. Longing mixed with wariness, and the combination compelled him to convince her. “I dated a bird who waited tables back when I was younger, so I’m quite good at it. And maybe this is the kind of thing we need to be doing at any rate. You’re about to jump out of your skin every time I touch you. This will break the ice a bit, make us a little more comfortable with casual contact in public.”

She shook her head mournfully. “I know. It was bad tonight. I choked big time when you came up behind me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been half of a couple, and our—” she ticked off two-fingered air quotes “—courtship was such a whirlwind. I guess my body hasn’t caught up with my brain yet. When you’re single and someone gooses you from behind, your first reaction is ‘stranger danger!’ not ‘fake husband,’ you know?”

He didn’t, but he nodded anyway. “It’s all right. This is a couple’s retreat. We don’t need to look happy, but we do need to look comfortable with one another.”

She tossed her shoes into the corner and hobbled over to the couch. “Okay, I’m in. But could you try not to be…” She squinted her eyes and made an exaggerated, slow rubbing motion with her hands. “All sexy about it?”

He swallowed a grin and gave a solemn, three-fingered Scout’s Honor. “I shall endeavor to do exactly that. Although, being as virile as I am—” The air whooshed out of him on an oomph when the pillow she’d tossed hit him in the gut.

“And Jordan thought I was the abusive one? If she only knew.”

She chuckled, tucking herself into one corner of the couch while he took off his sports jacket and loosened his tie. He sat on the opposite end and patted his thigh. “Up you go.”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, then released it and laid her foot on his lap. He did his best to ignore the toned thigh and shapely calf only inches away. Instead, he cupped her ankle in his hand giving it a casual caress before pressing both thumbs into her instep. She moaned and instantly stiffened, her gaze flying to his.

“Sorry about the sound effects. That feels so good, though.”

“It’s supposed to, and it’s okay to make appreciative noises. It lets me know I’m doing a good job.”

Her curious eyes widened. “Oh. Okay then. Mark never wanted me to make noise at, you know, anything.” She swallowed audibly and fidgeted with her wedding ring. “So I’m used to trying to keep it down.”

Owen didn’t try to hide his disdain. “I can’t say I know who Mark is, but he’s clearly a fuckwit.”

She laughed, that full out belly laugh that made him want to puff up his chest for being the cause of it.

“Mark is my ex. We dated for a couple years back in college.”

He had access to all this and obviously had no idea what to do with it, Owen thought, with an irrational surge of jealousy.

He didn’t comment further on Mark’s stupidity, instead resuming the massage, grinding the heel of his hand into the ball of her foot. This time the sound she made was more like a humming, deep in her throat. It went straight to his groin, and he shifted against the couch cushions, trying to make room for what was shaping up to be the erection of the century. He vowed that the second they were done he would hit the showers and take care of it himself. There would be no sleep tonight if he didn’t.

He watched her through eyes half-mast, and she finally seemed to be letting herself relax and enjoy. The tension drained from her body, leaving her soft and pliant. Part of him was glad, but the other part, the bigger part, where all the testosterone lived, didn’t want her relaxed at all. He wanted her to feel the way he did. On edge. Aroused. Wild.

“Switch feet.”

She did, lifting her head from the couch cushion to give him a sleepy smile.

“This is wonderful.”

“I’m glad.”

This time, he cupped her ankle in his hand, tracing the shape of her delicate bones with the very tips of his fingers. The tender skin was like satin and he found himself entranced, the need to bend low and explore it with his tongue so strong he very nearly groaned.

“Owen?” Lindy’s husky voice broke the spell.

He met her soft, wanting gaze and it took all his strength not to finish it. Oblige them both and slide his hands higher, make her scream until her throat was raw. Bare her to his mouth and tongue. Spread her legs wide enough to accommodate his hips, and thrust deep. But he didn’t.

“Yes?”

“N-nothing.”

Her breathing had gone shallow and through the pounding of the blood in his ears, he could have sworn he heard her whispered mantra, “Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine,” as she lay her head back on the pillow.

Only this time she was wrong. Everything was definitely not fine. He was as hard as a stone, and his partner in crime was obviously struggling with her own attraction to him. Which was all well and good, except she’d specifically asked him not to seduce her if he knew a relationship wasn’t in the cards. And suddenly the thought of using his experience to convince her made him feel oily. He liked this woman. She was the first truly good egg he’d met in a very long time, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Not to mention they had an important job to do. The decision made itself, really. Unless something changed, suffer he would.

As Lindy let out another sexy, kitten-like purr, he wondered if there was a nice, icy lake somewhere on the premises he could jump into.

…

Lindy tried to be quiet as Owen used his big, strong hands to work her weary flesh like a master sculptor, but she’d never felt something so sublime. She watched him through her lashes and acknowledged that his focus alone was an aphrodisiac. He was absorbed in his task. She imagined that type of single-mindedness was a huge asset in his business. It probably didn’t hurt with the ladies either. She could easily see how being the recipient of such undivided male attention, however fleeting, could get addictive. The last thing she needed was to get addicted to something in as short of supply as Owen Phipps. Hell, already she was a touch away from launching herself onto his lap and shamelessly grinding against his hard body. His fingers tripped lightly over her ankle again and she shivered before reluctantly pulling away.

“Thank you,” she said, wishing her voice was a little less breathy.

“My pleasure.” His own tone was even, but the tension in his face gave him away. He wanted her, and she had no doubt that he would lavish the rest of her with the same attention he’d given her feet. All she had to do was say the word.

She stood while she still had the fortitude to do so and smoothed her dress around her hips. With a guilty glance at the smallish couch, she worked up her courage. They were both adults. Surely they could manage if… “I know you offered to sleep on the sofa, but there’s no way you’ll fit comfortably. The bed is huge. Even if there were four of us side by side, we’d never have to touch.”

He didn’t respond, his hooded gaze following her fidgety hands.

His silent regard was too much to bear and she rushed on. “If you’re worried about your virtue we can even lay put some pillows down the center to make a barrier.”

He grinned then and affable Owen was nowhere to be found. “It’s the couch for me,” he said, a note of finality in his voice. He stood and padded across the room, stopping in the doorway to face her. “The way things are between us right now, a row of pillows wouldn’t cut it. In fact, if you keep looking at me that way, I can’t promise the wall between us is going to hold all night. I’m going to take a shower. It’s probably best if you’re in bed when I get out.”

The second the door closed behind him she flopped backward onto the couch cushions with a groan. Twenty days of this to go. She’d never make it. The second she’d looked through that peephole and seen him standing there, heard that delicious accent, she should have engaged the deadbolt and run like hell. Melba was right. He was similar to James Bond, only hotter, and he was attracted to her. She had to stay strong, but for the life of her couldn’t get a grasp on how to do that. She was only human, after all.

The shower flipped on, interrupting her thoughts. Owen was right about one thing. It would be safer if she were hunkered down in bed before he got out. She pushed herself to her now-painless feet and made her way into the bedroom. She stripped off her fancy new duds, hanging them carefully before pulling on her well-worn Charlie Brown nightshirt. Eyeing the massive bed, she willed away the image of a naked Owen sprawled across it. Maybe she’d bite the bullet and break her own steadfast rule by leaving the blankets tucked in around her legs. The coffin-like prison might keep her from leaping off the bed and running him down to jump his bones.

She closed her eyes and swallowed a groan.

Oh yeah, it was going to be a long few weeks.

Chapter Nine

Owen awoke the next morning stiff from head to toe. And some areas were stiffer than others, he acknowledged ruefully, sparing a glance at the sheet tenting his thighs. Even after going it solo in the shower the night before, it had been a fitful sleep filled with dreams of intertwined legs, dueling tongues, and soft breasts. The cries he’d wrung out of her in his dreams, God, what man would tell a woman like her to be quiet? Not him. On the contrary, he’d make her scream until she shattered glass, that’s what he’d do.

He eyed the ceiling. This cherub-faced woman was going to be the death of him. He sat up and leaned forward, stretching his tight back muscles.

“I told you it was too small for you.”

Lindy stood in the doorway of the bedroom dressed in stretchy black yoga pants and a turquoise sports bra. The golden expanse of her flat stomach made him glad he was hunched over. Unfortunately, now he had to stay that way or risk an awkward introduction between her and Mr. Wood.

“It was a little tight. I’ll get used to it.”

“No you won’t. Tonight you’ll sleep in the bed. I’ll take the couch.” He opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off at the pass. “That bed is way too big for me anyway. I kept dreaming I was on the Titanic, and it was about to hit an iceberg. The sofa is plenty big enough for me, so don’t argue.”

He considered her logic and decided that it was easier to give in for the time being. If she was as sore as he was the next day, they’d fight it out. The irony of arguing with a woman for putting his comfort before hers wasn’t lost on him. Since he’d made his first million, it seemed as if every companion he’d had was in a race to see exactly how much she could get from him. Lindy truly was a breath of fresh air in so many ways.

“Today starts off with a ‘me time’ activity, so I’m going to head down, get some yogurt, and see what’s on tap. Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, you go ahead. I have a couple calls to make and then I’ll be down. I wanted to contact Gavin and give him some of the names of the other couples and see if anything pops.”

“Won’t he ask why you want to know?”

“No. He runs checks on business contacts for me all the time. He wouldn’t have much of a business if he grilled his clients every time they called. He knows if I want him to have the details, I’d give them to him.”

“I see, Your Excellency.”

He raised his brows and grinned. “I approve. If you want to call me that from now on, I won’t object.”

“Bah! Not likely.” She crossed the room to the door, passing by his seat on the couch, giving him a glimpse of the most pert, spectacular ass this side of the pond.