Traded for Love Read Online Free PDF Page A

remembered there were more important things to think about than ravaging my wife. No, today she had a more important use.
    We had Dante drive us into the city. I was glad we'd left when we had. Any later and Stratford would have had to wait for us.
    Dante dropped us off at the entrance and went to park the car. I held out my arm for Emily and she threaded hers with it.
    Luckily, we'd arrived before Stratford. The host seated us and Emily glanced around the high-ceilinged room, taking in the splendor of one of New York City's oldest restaurants.
    A waiter poured water into our goblets, recommended wines, and informed us of the chef's specialties.
    “Thank you. We're waiting for someone,” I told him. He smiled and nodded. “I will be back in a few minutes to see if your guest has arrived.” With that, he was gone.
    “All this sounds good,” Emily said, eyeballing the menu. “I'm so hungry. With all the running around I did, I wasn't able to eat. I had a granola bar in the car.”
    “You've got to stay healthy, Emily,” I said, silently choosing what I would eat. “That means getting enough food and exercise.”
    “I think the amount of exercise I get is fine. I'm actually a few pounds lighter than I was before I had Katherine,” she pointed out.
    “Don't argue. Just do as I say,” I said dismissively.
    She didn't bring it up again, and if she had, there wouldn't have been time to talk about it. I saw Stratford's face floating behind a host. Though he wasn't fat, he was a man of considerable size. He was built like a linebacker, from his thick torso up to his wide shoulders. I shouldn't have been in the least bit intimidated by him, since I was a decade his junior, but I was—slightly. His face glowed when he saw me.
    I stood to greet him and he immediately seized my hand in not one, but both, of his massive ones for a cordial shake. “Good afternoon, Mr. Duncan. I'm glad to meet you.”
    “Hello, Mr. Stratford. I'm happy you could find time in your busy schedule for us today.”
    Our interaction stopped when he saw Emily. He was obviously struck by her. This was what I'd counted on, that she could be an enticement, an ornament on my sleeve. She gave him a sweet smile.
    “This must be your wife,” he said, holding out his hand palm-up. She gave him her hand, and when his fingers closed, everything below her wrist disappeared. He bent low and planted a kiss on her knuckles.
    She blushed again. It irritated me that he'd gotten that response from her. I may not have loved her, but, damn it, she still belonged to me.
    “Mr. Stratford, this is my wife, Emily.”
    “Very pleased to meet you, Emily,” he said, not tearing his eyes from her.
    That’s enough, Bigfoot, I thought.
    “Shall we sit?” I asked, indicating the empty chair between Emily and me.
    “Absolutely. I could murder one of these steaks. They have the best in the city. What are you having, Mrs. Duncan?” he asked.
    “Uh. Me?” She looked back at the linen card-stock in her hand. “I think I'll have the Roasted Halibut.”
    “You wouldn't prefer a steak? We are at a steakhouse, after all,” I said.
    Her cheeks colored again. “I guess you're right.” She ran her finger down the menu. “I'll do the Filet Mignon, then.” She smiled.
    “Good choice!” Stratford commented. “How do you take your meat ?” he asked.
    I detected a salacious note in the way he said meat . Emily's cheeks flushed a deeper red.
    “Medium. Isn't that right, darling?” I interjected.
    She nodded.
    “I take mine medium-rare. I have an affinity for rare things.”
    I knew he was talking about Emily. He wanted her. It took everything in me not to lunge across the table and choke him. I maintained my composure. He could make or break my campaign. Allowing him to ogle my wife was a small price to pay.
    The waiter came back to the table. Stratford ordered a cognac, red wine, and the second largest steak they offered. Emily and I added ours to the waiter's pad and