For Richer for Poorer Read Online Free

necessarily mean she was a free woman.   But he also saw no signs of a man in the house.  Upon their interior walk-through of the home, so far, he hadn't seen anything masculine.
     
                  Caught off guard, she hesitated. "Married? Why do you ask?" She unscrewed the cap on his thermos, rinsed it out and filled it to the top. She couldn't believe he was asking her that.
                  "Just curious." His eyes bore into hers and held them before he took the thermos from her hands and screwed the little circular cap on.   He was conscious of her soft hands on his as he took the thermos.
     
                  "Curious, huh?" she asked, aware of his eyes studying her face. "If this is a proposal, I barely know you, Mr. Steele," she flirted.
     
                  He laughed heartily, revealing beautiful  white teeth.
     
                  "Why do you ask?" she pressed, a playful smile on her face.  He made her feel good, forget everything she was worried about. 
     
                  Hamilton knew he was treading in dangerous waters, but he couldn't help himself. And they had been flirting harmlessly back and forth. More than that, he had to know if she belonged to another. She was a captivating woman, and he wanted to know more about her. But he'd stop dead in his tracks if she had a man.  The businessman in him also knew he had to be careful to not cross the professional line though. She was a client, and he was in her home, for the first time. So he backtracked in his mind, ran his hand through his hair, and cleared his throat.
     
                  Not looking at her, he tightened the lid on the thermos and said, "I want to know so your husband, or your boyfriend, and I can sit down together, look over the list and discuss what needs to be done first when I finish the inspection," he lied. 
     
                  Agitated, Miranda pushed the little plastic cup with the handle that belonged on top of the thermos toward him. Men! Why is it just because she was a woman they assumed she didn't know anything about the interior workings of a house.
     
                  "I understand repair talk just fine, Mr. Steele," she said, jaws clenched. 
     
                  Ever since she'd gotten into real estate investing, men assumed she was at meetings representing a firm, or at  inspections in a husband's or male partner's stead. She'd had had her fill of workmen and  subcontractors treating her like she didn't know the right end of a hammer.  And here was another one, in all of his seductive glory.  She could just scream.
     
                  Hamilton wasn't sure what he'd said wrong, but she had changed from a sweet little darling to a woman throwing daggers right before his very eyes.
     
                  "And another thing," Miranda said. "This little woman can read and write and do 'rithmetic , too, in case you're wondering."
     
                  "I'm sorry -- I--" he started. "I didn't mean--" he sighed. The look on his face said, "Oh, Lord, what have I done?"
     
                  "Oh never mind," she said. "Never mind, just go." She was sick of men like him. All of them!
     
                  With the thermos in his hand, Hamilton nodded and thanked her as he headed to the front porch.  Miranda reminded him of his younger sister Gabrielle. She was the same way. Hot-headed, smart, proud. Though Gabby really could pretty much out-perform him on any construction task.
     
                  Miranda's temper tantrum made him like her even more. He decided to pretend nothing had happened. He'd leaned how to handle women over the years. Though Hamilton hadn't found the perfect mate, he'd had lots of experience with women.  His daddy taught him at an early age how to keep peace with the opposite sex:  smile, give in, and let them have their way,