His Hired Girlfriend Read Online Free Page A

sunds good. Sunday?
2:30? SAN Cafe?
     
    A push of a
button and the message was on its way. She peeped up and saw Peter
checking his BlackBerry. A second later he turned round to face her
with a big grin, waved and nodded. Mr.
Hot-Choc was watching her with interest,
the gentlest of smiles playing with his lips. She was about to
smile back when she noticed Mary’s hateful glare. The message was
clear – ‘ piss off - he’s mine!’ Alex reddened again and dived for cover into the
musings of the great Monsieur Poirot.
    Ten minutes
later she glanced up as Peter, Mr.
Hot-Choc , and Mary left their seats and
headed toward the exit. Well, she supposed she should get going,
too. Back to work for her. She tidied up, wrapped the satchel over
her shoulder, and picked up her half empty cup of cold tea. She was
deep in thought, her eyes seeing only the threadbare carpet as she
headed toward the conveyer. What happened next was a bit of a blur.
She was aware of cold tea seeping quickly through her jersey and
chilling her skin. She felt strong hands holding her as she
tottered. She looked up straight into his clear blue eyes as he
pulled her upright and almost into an embrace. Warmth and strength
seemed to flow from him in an intoxicating mixture.
    She heard a voice, his voice,
saying, “Are you all right?” and it was low and deep and wonderful,
full of rich tones and soothing, like the calmness of a great sea
gently tasting the pebbles on the shore. She took a deep breath and
was overcome with the scents of fresh spices floating on a spring
breeze.
    Snapping back to reality she
stared in disbelief at the cold tea that had somehow transferred
itself from her old jersey onto his expensive looking jacket.
    “Oh God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t
mean to. I’m sure it will wash out,” she apologised as her hands
were busy dabbing at his jacket. “I’m sorry,” she repeated,
glancing up at him.
    It’s him! It’s Mr.
Hot-Choc!
    She spiralled away into the
fathomless depths of his cobalt blue eyes. The colour reminded her
of those lovely summer days years ago at the farm where she had
worked as fruit picker. The sky had been huge and the air had
hummed with the busy sounds of insects. Suddenly she could smell
the sweetness of ripe strawberries. She didn’t know where it was
coming from but it was there. She remembered the feel of the long,
soft grasses and the cool sprinkling of water against her skin, and
she missed those wonderful, simple things that had made her feel so
carefree.
    The intensity of his gaze
disturbed her from her reverie, and she blushed as she lowered her
head and said, “I’m sorry. It was my fault. Let me get something to
clean it off.” She picked up the empty cup from the floor and put
it on the food conveyer belt. Then she grabbed a handful of napkins
from a nearby table and started to pat his jacket dry.
    Jayden watched her for a
moment.
    ‘That’s okay,’ he said and took
hold of her hands again, softly but with insistence. The contact
made her nerves jump, and excitement coursed through her body. It
was a touch filled with such intimacy and promise.
    “It’ll wash out.” He noticed
her discomfort and let go of her hands.
    “I’m truly
sorry,” she said, realising that he had an accent – an American one .
So Mr. Hot-Choc was not a Kiwi. He must be a tourist then. No wonder he stood
out so much. “I’m not usually this
clumsy.” She glanced up and saw him raise an eyebrow. “There. It’s
kind of dry now.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” he
said, and there it was again, that voice! A delicious shiver
tickled its way along her spine. She cleared her throat. “Sorry,”
she repeated, walking over to the bin and tossing the wet napkins
in. “You have a good day.” She waved as she turned to the
corridor.
    He caught her before she had
walked more than three steps, “Hey, you work here?” he asked.
    She turned and nodded, “Yeah,
are you lost? Or has Peter deserted you, he sometimes