Wife for Hire by Christine Bell Read Free Book Online

and he pulled back in surprise. Not because of her feminine appreciation. Even unattractive men in his position had their fair share of that. No, what was taking him aback was his total lack of response. He let his gaze travel from her eyes to the crimson, bee-stung lips that she’d probably paid a pretty penny for and found himself thinking that Lindy’s lips were far sexier and hadn’t cost her a dime. His jaw tensed at the memory of how soft they’d felt against his. Jesus, what was wrong with him?
    Miranda the Concierge’s red mouth curved into a knowing smile and he once again met her gaze. “I know you had a long flight, so we don’t need to deal with all the paperwork now. Why don’t you head up to your room so you can get settled? At eleven, we’re having a welcome brunch in the great room. You’ll meet and greet the other couples and some of our relationship experts, then go over the itinerary.”
    “Sounds lovely. We’re excited, aren’t we sweetie?” Lindy snuggled into him, her breasts pressing against his arm.
    “Can’t wait,” he said with a nod, tucking the card into his pocket.
    Miranda handed him an old-fashioned key, brushing her manicured fingertips against his palm before releasing it. “Straight up the stairs, second door on your right.”
    “No keycards?” he asked, careful to keep his tone light.
    “No. We try to keep things as organic and tech-free as possible here. Reliance on technology is one of the biggest issues between couples today. Too much time on the computer, cell phone, or playing video games means less time really being present for your partner.” She leaned forward, displaying a spectacular amount of cleavage. “Our hope is to get our couples to refocus their energies on the relationship.”
    Real keys, no keycards. Her reasoning sounded plausible, but until he got a bead on exactly what the con was here, everything felt suspect. For now, he’d take note.
    By the time they got to the room, there was no need for the key at all. The porter was on his way out and held the door. “All set for you, sir. Your luggage is in the bedroom. My name is Andre, should you need anything else.”
    The moment the door closed behind him, Lindy shucked off her coat and flopped onto the couch. “Phew.” She blew the lock of hair from her eye. “I’m emotionally wrung out from being tensed up for the past twenty minutes. Sort of like when I leave the dentist, only this time instead of waiting for him to hit a nerve, I was waiting for someone to point and scream, ‘Imposter!’ or something. How did I do? I was so nervous.”
    “You were amazing. A natural. That Vagina Monologues producer would be a fool to let you slip through his fingers.”
    Her cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “Yeah, well, he may be calling you for a reference.”
    “Which I will be happy to give. You want that bottle of water now?” he asked, stepping up to the stocked mini-bar.
    “Please.” She hopped to her feet again, seemingly aware of her surroundings for the first time. She prowled the room, taking it all in. “Wow. It’s gorgeous, huh? The wood is so rich. How much money did he steal that he could afford a place this fancy?”
    “Seven-hundred thousand from Cara, but who knows what else he raked in from other marks. The friend I was telling you about with the security company? He did some checking, and Nico doesn’t own this place. It’s a one-year lease that ran him about a half a mil. Yet another reason I’m convinced this is no legitimate business venture. Why dump all this money into something so short term if the owners could call the whole thing off in twelve months? Because you have no intention of sticking around longer than that, that’s why.”
    “He picked a great location. It’s fantastic. Luxurious, but still warm and inviting. It’s a hard balance to keep. And did you notice the staff? They’re ridiculously attractive, every one of them. It’s like the Stepford