Wife for Hire Read Online Free PDF Page B

a stretch, but I’ll take it. I can’t cook a lick. Baking is a whole other ballgame.”
    “What else?”
    “Let’s see…” Her expressive eyes lit up. “Oh, I also volunteer for Big Brothers Big Sisters! I mentor a little girl named Abby. She’s a hoot.”
    He put pen to paper again. “So we’ll say ‘board member for several non-profit organizations’.” He paused, and turned to face her. “This is probably out of line, but I have a question for you, Lindy. Do you ever take time to do anything for yourself?”
    She stared at him, nonplussed. “What do you mean? All that stuff I named is for me. I like Abby. And I like baking, too. Some of the people at the home have no one, Owen. I might be their only visitor all month.”
    God, this woman was a sweet soul, always giving. Reminded him of his sister. “But is there anything you do for yourself? Something self-indulgent, silly even, that you do for the sheer joy of doing it?”
    She cocked her head and seemed to mull that over. For a long while, she didn’t speak. “I guess I enjoy singing. Yoga. And dancing.”
    “There you go. What do you like to sing?”
    “Oldies, mostly. I love cheesy fifties music. Melba and I did a mean duet of ‘Baby It’s Cold Outside’ the other night when we were making dinner.”
    “And dancing? Have you had lessons?”
    She nodded once then looked away. “My, uh, mom used to teach ballroom dance. When I was little she’d take me to the studio with her. We’d go early and she’d twirl me around and around until I got dizzy, and—” She cleared her throat. “Well, anyway, that was a long time ago. Now I shake my booty when I get the chance, but that’s about it.” Her voice sounded so small, almost hollow, and it made his gut ache. He could’ve kicked himself for bringing it up. Elspeth returned with their drinks, saving him from having to respond, for which he was grateful.
    After she’d gone, he held up his scotch. “ Sláinte .”
    She clinked her snifter to his glass and mimicked the traditional Irish toast, nailing the pronunciation. Then, she pinched her nose between thumb and forefinger and knocked it back in one swallow.
    “Oh, that’s a sipper I think,” he said too late.
    She choked and coughed, tears pooling in her eyes. The watchful attendant scurried over with a bottle of water, which Lindy took with a thumbs-up of thanks. She gulped a quarter of it down before wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her four-hundred dollar jacket. “Smooth,” she rasped with a shaky smile.
    “Glad to hear it.” He returned her smile with one of his own. More and more, he found himself wanting to do that around her. The fasten seatbelt sign blinked off and he took a quick swallow of his drink then stood. “You okay alone for a minute? I’m going to speak to the pilot and then get you some food.”
    “Sure thing.”
    Once he’d gotten an ETA and secured some snacks, he headed back to his seat to find the overhead lights on bright. Lindy was leafing through one of the men’s magazines he kept in stock and looked up when he approached. “They sell vibrators,” she said in a stage whisper. “What would a guy need a vibrator for?” Her eyes were bleary and her body weaved, leaning his way.
    One drink and Lindy was well and truly inebriated, fluthered . He bit back a grin and plucked the magazine from her limp fingers, giving it a glance. “No, love. That’s not a vibrator. That’s a neck massager.” But damn if her assumption didn’t give him ideas. She gazed up at him, all sleepy and soft looking, and the urge to kiss her gripped him like a boa constrictor.
    No. That wouldn’t do at all. They had a task to complete. Even if they didn’t, there was a kind of woman a man could have a laugh with and move along. Lindy wasn’t that kind of woman.
    He sat down and put on his seatbelt. Before he’d even settled in, Lindy’s head was tucked against his shoulder, her soft snores tickling his chin.
    Yes, for