Read Wife for Hire for Free Online Page A

was a row of channel-set stones in a matching setting.
    “Put them on before we park so no one sees.”
    She plucked them from the tray and slid them onto her finger. Perfect fit and truly stunning, but they left her cold. They had no character. No life to them. Which was apropos, since this whole thing was a sham anyway. Tears stung the back of her eyelids. Was she seriously sad because the fake husband she met last week didn’t realize she had her heart set on a vintage ring that conjured images of snowflakes instead of icicles? What a sap.
    She blinked back the irrational tears and smiled. “Wow, very nice. I can skip the gym this week, I guess, huh? I’ll get all the exercise I need lugging this bad boy around.” She shot a glance at Owen’s hand. “Where’s yours?”
    “I don’t have one.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I didn’t think it important. A lot of men don’t wear wedding rings.”
    “My dad did.” She knew she was being foolish, but suddenly it seemed crucial that he was as committed to their fake marriage as she was.
    “So did mine, and it meant less than nothing to him.”
    The clipped response oozed with bitterness. She winced. “Want to talk about it?”
    “Not in the least.”
    “Alrighty, then. This is your rodeo, boss. You don’t want to wear a ring, don’t. But if some floozies decide that’s an invitation, don’t blame me when I have to set them straight. Your love affairs are your business, but I won’t be humiliated in public.”
    “My love affairs?” His lip curled into a half-smirk. “While the thought of you fighting over me is oddly intriguing, I’m certain I can mind my manners and curtail my ‘love affairs’ for a few weeks. If you recall, I fell victim to those tiny fists before. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”
    “I wasn’t that mad. You should see me when I’m mad. You wouldn’t be laughing.”
    The lopsided smirk blossomed into a full-blown smile, and she found herself grinning back. Lord, he was handsome. Suddenly her throat felt dry for a whole other reason. She tore her gaze away and busied herself selecting the bracelet then stowing the box in his briefcase.
    Owen pulled the sedan up to the lodge. The brochure hadn’t oversold it even a little. It was gorgeous. A sprawling affair made of thick logs in a rich brown, it somehow managed to look both sturdy and elegant.
    “Ready, Mrs. O’Neil?” Owen asked, sliding neatly into the row of cars parked in front of the empty valet stand.
    She finished hooking the tennis bracelet onto her wrist, and he reached for her, taking her hand in his to examine it. “Looks really nice. You have beautiful skin.” He ran his thumb over the pulse point in her wrist, and she gasped. His gaze flew to meet hers, pinning her in place. “Lindy?”
    “Y-yes?”
    “Come closer,” he murmured and leaned toward her, his gray eyes heating to molten silver.
    As if in a trance, she obeyed his command, drawn inexorably nearer. When they were only inches apart, close enough for his warm breath to feather her cheek, he dipped his head low. With the very tip of his tongue, he traced her bottom lip, skimming over the surface before delving further to taste the tender flesh inside. She moaned low in her throat, her nipples tightening beneath her shirt. Owen lifted a hand to cradle her neck and deepen the kiss, fitting his firm lips to hers. God, his mouth was pure magic—
    The slam of a nearby door startled her and she jerked back.
    “Sorry about that, but try to act natural,” Owen said through his teeth. “Nico pulled up and is watching us.”
    The pulse in her neck pounded like a jackhammer, but she willed herself to stay still. She dragged in a couple deep breaths through her nose, working up a smile for her “husband.”
    It was fake. The whole thing had been fake. Here she was, a seething mass of need over a staged kiss, and he was as chill as the diamond on her finger. She tamped down her disappointment and