Wife for Hire by Christine Bell Read Free Book Online Page B

least, not in the way a woman like Lindy would want him to. It was a no-brainer.
    Hands off.
    Now he just had to break it to the cheeky bugger in his pants.

Chapter Five
    Lindy pressed the imaginary wrinkles from her sleeve and tried to focus on the speaker. Nico Stephanopoulos stood right in front of the cheerily crackling fire giving his welcome speech. It wasn’t that he was boring. He was sinfully handsome. An olive-skinned Adonis. Dark curls framed an angelic face, and his soulful eyes were black as night. Every husky word that fell from his lips seemed to be sincere and for her ears alone. Almost like the fireside chat of a charismatic politician. There was no question that he had it, whatever “it” was.
    And still, “it” wasn’t enough to hold her attention. All she could think about was the moment she’d opened the door to her and Owen’s bedroom and caught sight of their sumptuous king-sized bed. It took up almost one whole wall, and was framed by a gorgeous organza canopy. Her dream bed. Owen wasn’t helping matters, either. With his smoldering good looks and raw sensuality, even the most innocuous comment or innocent glance felt overtly sexual.
    Then again, maybe she was just horny. She tried to remember the last time she had sex and got two years back before stopping with an inward groan. It was depressing, but it did give her some hope that it wasn’t about Owen at all. She’d read in Cosmo that women hit their sexual peak in their thirties. So what if she was a couple years shy of her thirtieth birthday? Maybe she was an early peaker and Owen’s interest, feigned or not, had awakened something in her that had been dormant for so long. That had to be it. Not the man himself, but a handsome, sexy guy in the right place at the right time.
    “Pay attention,” Owen said.
    “I am,” she said, a little louder than necessary. The woman seated to her right gave them the stink-eye and Lindy mouthed a sheepish apology.
    “Miranda will be coming around with a box and some labels. We ask that you please write your name on a label, affix it to your cell phone and set it in the box.” Nico laughed at the groans and held up a hand. “I know some of you have pressing business, and this is not mandatory, but it symbolizes to your partner how committed you are to the process. Alternately, from this point forward, we ask that you refrain from bringing any cell phones to couple’s activities. You have several breaks during the day to go back to your room and make calls.”
    “Now,” their host concluded, “enjoy a light brunch, get to know one another a little. Then each couple will meet with an advisor who will give you your questionnaires and create a schedule for you. Tonight the group will reconvene here for dinner and to play some games. Until then, treat one another with respect, and always speak with love in your heart.”
    Owen swore under his breath, and she elbowed him in the ribs.
    “He’s a right prick though, isn’t he?” His nostrils flared even as his accent thickened.
    “You better chill out. He’s coming this way and you’re going to blow it.”
    Nico was working the small crowd, introducing himself to each of the dozen or so couples in turn. He reached them and treated her to wide smile.
    “Mrs. O’Neil. Mr. O’Neil. Pleasure.” He shook Owen’s hand, then took hers and pressed a light kiss to her knuckles.
    “Stephanopoulos,” Owen said with a nod, although the accompanying smile was more like the baring of teeth.
    “We’re thrilled to have you here. I look forward to working with you both as your journey progresses. Did you want to surrender your phones?” He held a finger up to Miranda, prepared to beckon her over.
    “’Fraid not,” Owen said flatly. She caught his gaze and gave him a dirty look. He seemed to thaw a bit and added, “I’ve pressing business, but it is a great idea for those who can.”
    “We’ll leave them behind during sessions, though. Right,