Wife for Hire Read Online Free Page A

full, agreed upon amount.”
    “Boy, you’re cutting it kind of close, no?”
    “I began the interview process a couple weeks ago. If I don’t find someone this week, I’ll have to cancel and find some other way. You’re my best shot.” His expression was unreadable, but there was a hint of desperation in his voice that seemed out of character for such a confident, aloof man. Like he really needed her. Her heart squeezed.
    Crud.
    When was the last time she’d walked away from someone in need? Here was a man willing to put his life on hold in order to try and make this right for his sister, spend tens of thousands of dollars and saddle himself with a stranger for three weeks. She knew about that kind of love. That’s how she felt about Mal and Nate. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her brothers.
    “It’s not about the money he took,” Owen said. “I’m fortunate enough to have been able to assist her in that respect. He stole something far more precious. She was a sweet and rare soul. Believed in true love, silly as that notion is, and thought she had it. Always saw the best in people. That’s gone now, and he’s going to pay for taking it from her.”
    The last was spoken with a grim determination. Not a statement, but a vow.
    The words were out before she could stop them.
    “I’m in.”

Chapter Three
    The ten days sped by like a locomotive and Owen Phipps was the conductor. Once they’d signed the contract, he’d taken the reins and before she could even settle down to regret her decision, the day had come. They’d seen each other twice during that time, once to deal with the financial aspect of things and some additional paperwork, and a second time so he could brief her on their backstory and get her measurements for a few items he felt the wife of an affluent businessman should have. On both occasions, she’d gone to bed at night only to be woken by the most intensely erotic dreams, whispered words of passion spoken in a husky Irish accent still ringing in her ears.
    She shook off the memories and paced the hallway, waiting for Owen but unable to sit still a second more. Six of the puppies mimicked her motions while Sleepy nipped playfully at her heels. And what heels they were. She paused to stick out a limb and admire them once again. Nude Jimmy Choo t-strap stilettos. Her stubby little legs looked a mile long in them and she was in love. She loved the whole outfit from the chocolate cashmere jacket to the designer jeans that fit like a dream. A few days earlier, a man in a sleek black car had dropped off two suitcases and four garment bags filled with clothes. He’d handed Melba a sumptuous, ivory-colored envelope before backing out of the door with a bow.
    “Feel this paper, would ya Lindy? It’s softer than a baby’s bottom. I bet it’s from your dreamy Mr. Phipps,” she’d said with a delighted cackle.
    “He’s not my Mr. Phipps. I don’t want you getting ideas in your head. This isn’t a real marriage, Melba. I’m helping him out with a job. That’s all.”
    The older woman waved her off. “You keep saying. Still, it’s so romantic. It’s like he’s James Bond or something and you’re Octopussy.”
    Lindy had winced. “Please don’t share that sentiment with Mal or Nate.” The last thing she needed was is a new nickname.
    Melba had forced her into an impromptu fashion show, which Lindy pretended was a hardship. She’d never owned such gorgeous clothes and couldn’t wait to show them off. They must have cost her new employer a small fortune. She’d wrestled with her conscience on and off since receiving them, but one more glance at his note had reassured her.

    Lindy —
    Don’t give me any hassle. You need to look the part. If it makes you feel better, you can give half of them to the homeless women’s shelter on Market Street when we get back.
    — O.

    It had made her feel better. She’d already made her selections, and the shelter would be her first stop