Wife for Hire (11 page)

Chapter Thirteen

She didn’t want to wake up, but something was luring her to the surface of consciousness. “I’m so close,” she said, her body hovering on the knife’s edge of a mind-blowing orgasm.

“Shh, I know. Let me get you there, love.”

She froze as the voice, brogue and all, sounded in her ear. Owen was there, in the flesh. His mouth was right next her. Then she realized where her hand was. “Oh my God!” She snatched it away as if he were hosting a nest of vipers in his lap. Hysterical laughter bubbled from her lips. Maybe not a nest of vipers, but there had been one big one, for sure.

“I-I—” She couldn’t get a single, rational word out. She rolled away from him, only to butt up against the traitorous row of pillows. A potent cocktail of desire, panic, and sheer mortification had her semi-incapacitated, and she struggled for coherent thought.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were awake.” His voice was raw with sleep and sex, his breathing still harsh. She felt a pull of need low in her stomach.

“Don’t apologize. It was my fault.” She tugged down her camisole and righted her shorts with a wince. They were damp, clinging to her unfulfilled, swollen flesh, and she wanted nothing more than to rip them off and climb aboard the O-train.

No!

That was a one-way ticket to Heartbreak. She had to stay clear-headed and get out of this situation before she did something she’d regret. With a mighty roll she was able to scale Mount Pillows and get to the other side. The distance and the barrier gave her some comfort. She took a steadying breath.

“I don’t know what happened. I thought it was a dream, and I’m sorry for that.”

He readjusted himself on the bed, and the sheets rustled, but it was a long while before he spoke. “I’m trying my hardest to think with my big head right now, but even then, it’s a no brainer. I’m dreaming about you while you’re dreaming about me. We’re healthy, mature, unattached adults. Remind me again why we’re not doing this thing. I promise you, I can make that ache go away.”

It took everything she had not to dive over that faux-wall and take him up on that offer, but the tiniest kernel of self-preservation that hadn’t melted under glow of his sheer hotness reared its little head.

“D-don’t. I didn’t mean to—” she swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat, “—be a tease. But I’m awake and aware now, and I can’t do this. You’re not looking for a relationship.” She hated the note of desperation that had wormed its way into her voice, but she pressed on, because she
was
desperate. Desperate to save herself from certain misery. If she was going to do that, she needed to get away fast. With a man like Owen, who seemed to tuck his emotions into a deep freezer, there was one surefire way to get him to let her go without a fight.

“I want a guy who’s going to stick. I want lots and lots of babies with him. And, yes, I want his face to light the hell up when I walk into a room. If you already know you could never be that guy, then stop. Stop the dancing and the dipping and the looks. Please…stop. I’m not sure I’ll have the strength to keep saying no if you don’t.”

She bolted to her feet, before the last shred of discipline deserted her, and scooped up one of the pillows. In some small, secret part of her heart, she hoped maybe he would stop her…would tell her he
could
be that guy. But as she crossed the room in deafening silence, that hope died.

She wiped the tears from her cheek with the back of her hand and stepped through the door, closing it behind her with a resounding
snick
. There was nothing to cry about. She had saved herself a world of pain by walking away, that much she was sure of.

So why did it still hurt so freaking bad?

…

“You guys are up next,” the ski instructor said, pointing to the small, empty chairs rounding the hairpin turn at the other end of the lift.

Owen glanced down at Lindy, whose eyes had been closed for the last minute or so. “You sure you want to do this? It’s fine if you don’t. We can do cross-country.”

She gave her head a vigorous shake, and he resisted the urge to tweak her little red nose. Odd that she’d never gone skiing before because the gear suited her perfectly, and she seemed very comfortable wearing it. The slouchy cap with the fuzzy cherry-colored puffball at the end had been her pert addition to the sleek, black ski pants and jacket he’d gotten for her that morning at the shop. He had to admit, it was a nice touch. If she’d gone whizzing past him on a black diamond trail, she would’ve looked right at home. Aside from the whole staying upright aspect of the sport. From what he’d witnessed of her lessons before he’d taken a few quick jaunts down the mountain, she’d spent a lot of the time on her back. Not that he minded her prone…

It had been five days since what he’d mentally dubbed “The Incident” had occurred, and if he’d thought the fantasies were bad before, he’d thought wrong. She’d gone back to sleeping on the couch that very night, but imagining the two of them together had become a ritual. She wised up some and managed to avoid a lot of close contact, passing over ballroom dancing with him for team-building workshops designed to teach them about working together, where they decorated a dummy room of a house, trying to make it reflect both of their styles. He knew she had no more interest in that class that than he did in the poetry writing class, but it was a whole lot safer for them both. As much as it irked him, she was right about one thing. He would never be the guy who lit up over a woman and that was exactly the way he intended to keep it.

“This
is
the bunny slope, right?”

The flush that covered her face didn’t extend to her lips and he realized she was actually terrified. “Lindy, seriously, there’s no need to do this if you don’t want to. We can hang ’round in the pub at the bottom of the mountain and wait for the others to come down. We’re not missing out on anything important. Skiing is skiing. No one’s talking. The pub is the perfect place to be. That’s where the mouths start flapping. Let’s go. We can have some snacks and coffee while we wait.” He cupped her elbow and tried to lead her away from the lift, but she jerked her arm away.

“Nope. I’m not going.”

He recognized the mulish tilt of her chin and sighed. She was skiing, and that was that. Her determination might have been annoying if it wasn’t so damned admirable.

“All right, then. We’ll take it nice and slow.”

The chair slowed, coming up behind them. He took her hand and pulled her into position. “When it hits the back of your knees, sit,” he said.

Her brisk nod sent the puffball flapping. A moment later, he squeezed her hand and she did exactly what he told her. They were scooped up and began the slow ascent. She let out an exultant whoop. “I did it! And it was kind of easy.”

“Right. It’s low now, but don’t look down, all right?”

The second he said it, she leaned forward and peered down at the snow-covered ground moving farther and farther away from them. She sat back fast, which sent the chair swaying. Her eyes went wide, and she gripped his hand. “Everything’s fine,” she muttered softly.

“Everything is fine,” he assured her. “Try to sit still and it will feel a lot more stable, okay?”

Her nod this time was nothing more than a slight incline of her head. She was taking him at his word.

“Are we almost there?”

“Almost.” He patted her hand and tried to think of something to take her mind off the ride. They were away from prying eyes and ears. Perfect time to talk shop.

“How was yoga this morning? Nico getting frisky yet or what?” He kept his tone light, but every time he thought of the bastard with his hands on her it made him want to break stuff…namely Nico’s fingers.

“N-no. He, uh, has been pretty good with boundaries.” Her tense face relaxed a little, and she released the death grip she had on his hand to mull his question over. “One thing that I’ve noticed, though, if I say anything about you at all that could be construed as negative, it’s like he tries to fan the flames. Even this morning, he asked if we had children and I said no, that you wanted to wait to have kids. He gave me this intense look and said ‘And what do you want, Lindy?’ Like he wants to stir up trouble.”

Another surge of anger coursed through him, this one even less rational. She wasn’t his actual wife. Why should he possibly care that Nico was trying to sour their non-existent relationship? It was probably less about what the manipulations were and who he was exercising them on than the fact he was doing it at all. After what he’d done to Cara, the man needed to be stopped.

It only made sense that the embers of anger had flourished into flames of rage since they’d arrived. They were nothing more than the result of having to face the man who hurt his sister every day and having to watch him try to do it to someone else. It had nothing to do with Lindy.

“You think that’s it?” she asked, interrupting his thoughts. “He drives a wedge between us so he can put the moves on me later. Maybe offer me a great investment opportunity with the promise that, once he’s settled, he’ll send for me, or some nonsense? I don’t know, but these sly little digs are definitely a part of this somehow. Now that I’ve worked it through out loud, I’m convinced. I’m going to amp it up and really start complaining about you a lot. See if that shakes anything loose.”

He didn’t doubt that her instincts were right. He made a mental note to see if any of the other wives were getting any one on one time with Nico. Which reminded him, he had to check his email to see if Gavin had gotten back to him with the checks on that list of names yet.

“Have the Cedarhursts mentioned anything else about meeting Cara again?” Although Calvin had made a couple of remarks to him regarding her looks and had asked if she would be coming to visit the retreat anytime, once Owen had added mental disorders to her faux-addiction, he’d ceased and desisted.

“Nope, not a word. I don’t think it was as significant to them as it was to us.”

“Speaking of which, remind me to call her with an update when we get back. She’s getting restless, and I think your sense about Nico will give her something to chew on for a few days.”

As they reached the top of the mountain, he turned to her. “Ready?”

She looked up with a start. “Wow, that was fast. I didn’t even realize…” She turned her grateful gaze on him. “Thanks. You’re really good at that.”

“I aim to please.”

The ever-present electricity that lay right beneath the surface arced between them and the warm, comfortable moment sizzled away. That had been happening more and more since The Incident, and although he tried his best, they were hard to ignore. But her words—that fearful, desperate tone—stuck with him.
If you already know you could never be that man, then stop.

So he’d stopped. And he’d been stopping before it started again ever since.

“Get your pole ready at your side. Lean forward a bit, and when your skis touch the ground, bend your knees a little. Don’t let the tips cross.”

She nodded, her brow wrinkled in concentration. A moment later, they were off the lift, down the tiny incline, and at the top of the bunny slope looking down. Lindy was still standing and positively beaming with pride. She was so bloody cute, he couldn’t help but beam back.

“Great start. Now here’s what we’re going to do this first trip down. We’ll take it nice and slow. Make wide zigzag patterns, and any time you want to stop, point your tips toward each…”

He didn’t get to finish. Lindy had stopped listening and was shielding her eyes as she peered down the hill. Before he caught sight of whatever had captured her attention, she had shoved off and was heading down the slope in a tuck position, gaining speed with every yard.

Bollocks.

“Slow down!” he called after her, mimicking her stance, hoping his faster skis would give him ample time to catch up and—do what? What could he possibly do? She was tearing ass down the side of the mountain, her beginner skis practically screaming all the way. Short of tackling her, there was no way for him to stop her descent. The best he could do was to get close enough to talk to her and guide her into slowing down before they hit the bottom. He visualized the landscape at the end of the hill, and dread clenched at his stomach. After the lift and the booth, there was maybe ten yards of flat land, then a wall of pine trees. If she couldn’t manage to stop before then…

He deepened the bend in his knees and pressed his elbows close to his side. Focusing on the red pom-pom flapping behind her like a beacon, he willed himself to go faster. Fifteen meters became ten, ten became five. Soon he could almost touch her. Almost.

“Lindy, I’m right behind you. It’s okay, but you’ve gotta listen to me.” She didn’t even look his way. Hell, even he wasn’t sure any noise had come from his lips as his words were sucked away by his velocity and the mountain winds.

He veered right to flank her. “Lindy!” He shouted with all his might, and this time she looked up, her eyes wild and terrified.

“Stand up more. Try to move to the left, then back again. It’ll slow you down.”

She’d straightened her legs some, but one of her poles flew out of her hand and she started to wobble. He spared a glance at the bottom of the hill that was fast approaching. They were out of time.

Before he could make another move, it happened. Her arms pinwheeled, and he watched in horror. She hit the deck, arms and legs splayed at seemingly unnatural angles. One of her skis flew off and came at him like a projectile missile. He managed to dodge it as the other flew off in the opposite direction. Time slowed to a crawl. She tumbled over and over before finally skidding to a halt a few meters from the tree line. Heart in his throat, he whooshed to a stop, kicking snow out in front of him. He tossed his poles aside and snapped off his skis.

“Lindy, God. Please say something.” He approached, fear ramping up to abject terror.

She wasn’t moving.

Chapter Fourteen

Frantic shouts penetrated the strident ringing in her ears, and she lifted her head. Owen was standing over her, saying her name over and over. A moment later, he was joined by the girl from the lift booth and a crowd had started to gather.

“Dear God, Belinda, are you all right?” a male voice murmured.
Nico
.

When they had gotten off the lift and started toward the slope, she could’ve sworn it was him halfway down the hill with his arms wrapped around Jordan the Warden like a lover, but she couldn’t be certain. In her haste to get closer, she’d lost her balance, and that’s when the shit hit the fan.

Now the two of them stood over her, concern etched on their faces. “Say something, Lindy. You’re scaring me,” Jordan said, dropping to her knees beside her.

She sucked in a breath and attempted a smile. “It’s okay. That’s how I like to stop,” she quipped, hoping the bystanders didn’t hear the tremble in her voice. “Everything’s fine. Nothing to see here.” She rolled to her side and tried to stand, but a throbbing pain emanated from her lower back, and she reconsidered.

“Lie back down until the medic can look at you. You could have broken something. Christ, Lindy, what the hell were you thinking?”

Owen’s furious gaze drilled into her, and the thin shell of composure she’d clung to since the other night crackled then shattered. It had been a hard few days, and her unintentional Evel Knieval down that slope had scared the crap out of her. “W-w-what kind of qu-qu-question is that? It wasn’t on p-p-purpose.” She snuffled, hot tears streaking down her frozen cheeks. She swiped a mittened hand over her nose, hoping to God she hadn’t made herself look even more pathetic by smearing snot all over her face. “I was getting ready and the next thing I knew I was heading down the mountain. I tried to remember what the teacher told me, but my mind went blank.”

“Let me through, please.” A robust guy sporting a full black beard stepped up, shouldering Owen out of the way and motioning for Jordan to move. He reminded Lindy of a friendly bear, and his warm brown eyes scanned her quickly before meeting her gaze. “Talk to me. What’s your name?”

“Belinda Kn—” She swallowed hard and stole a glance at Owen. He still wore the same thunderous frown. “O’Neil.”

“I’m Mike, and I’m going to take real good care of you, Belinda.” He bustled around, digging through a bag while asking her questions about pain and whether she’d struck her head, which, luckily, she hadn’t. After testing the range of motion in all of her appendages and checking her vitals he finally stood. “You want to try to stand?”

“Yeah. I’m feeling way better now,” she said. He held out both hands and leaned back to stabilize her. She rose to her feet, marveling at how easy it was compared to the twenty times she’d fallen in practice. Then she realized she was no longer wearing skis.

As she straightened fully the twinge in her lower back worsened. “Ugh. Not awesome.”

“Yeah, you’re going to be sore. I gotta tell you, that’s a win all day for you. From what the lift operator said, we’re lucky we’re not dealing with a broken femur or worse.”

She refused to think about what the “or worse” could have been.

“Good thing you’re so fit. I think that might have saved you a lot of damage. You okay on your own two wheels?” Mike the Bear asked.

“Yes. I prefer it. My muscles are getting tight, and I think I’ll feel better if I walk it off.”

He nodded and thrust a thumb Owen’s way. “Is this your boyfriend?”

“Husband,” she corrected with a stab of guilt. She wasn’t fond of lying anyway, but lying to someone who’d helped her made her feel like crud stuck to the bottom of a shoe.

“Make sure your wife takes it easy,” he said, turning to face Owen. “She doesn’t appear to have a concussion, but to be on the safe side, watch out for—”

“I played rugby for years, I know the drill. Wake her up every hour, look out for vomiting. I’ll stay on top of it.”

Lindy wanted to kick him in the shin. Mike was trying to do his job, and Owen was being such a jerk, and for no good reason. She squeezed the medic’s hand and worked up a warm smile. “I really appreciate you looking out for me, Mike. I was freaking out for a minute and knowing you were there doing your thing, making sure I was okay, made all the difference. We’re very grateful for your quick response, aren’t we, hon?”

She sent Owen the death stare and he released a pent up breath. “Yes. We truly are.” He extended a gloved hand to Mike who took it with a curt nod.

“Just doing my job.”

Mike made his way back to his snowmobile, and she had a moment of relief that she wasn’t being carted out in the sled attached to it.

“I should get back.” The relieved looking lift operator gestured to the booth and sent Lindy a questioning glance. “If you’re sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Nico and Jordan stepped up as the other bystanders scattered. “That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen,” Jordan said. She wrung her hands together nervously and eyed Lindy from head to toe. “You hit so hard.”

“Yes, I have to confess, I feared the worst,” Nico said. “Jordan had asked for a private ski lesson, and we were just going over how to slalom using your hips when this flash went by. I swear, I felt the breeze when you passed, it was so fast.”

“Yes, well, as I mentioned, my skis had gotten the better of me.”

“Is this your first time? What with the house in Stowe that Owen mentioned on his application, I would’ve assumed you were avid skiers.” His dark eyes searched her, narrowing with what could easily be suspicion, and at that moment, a sneeze away from melting down, she just needed to get out of there.

“My wife prefers snowboarding but agreed to try skiing as a favor to me.”

“Ah, lovely to have a spouse who is so interested in your activities and willing to try new things to make you happy.”

When Owen stiffened next to her, she held her breath, waiting for him to blow it. This was the first time he’d seen Nico in action, effectively trying to drive a wedge between them. He’d offered a pointed reminder that Owen wouldn’t make the same concessions for her.

Nico seemed oblivious to Owen’s anger, laying a gentle hand on Lindy’s shoulder instead of getting the hell out of Owen’s reach.

“Please come see me later. I’m certain we can set up a special healing spa treatment for you once we get back to the château, if you’d like.” He turned his attention to Owen. “And you mentioned you had experience with concussions? Be sure to take special care, and if she has any problems in the night, don’t hesitate to contact me. I’ll get a doctor over immediately. She had her trap rattled pretty hard there. For a second she even forgot her last name.”

They both thanked him, and he and Jordan skied off, leaving Lindy alone again with Owen. He quietly gathered up the ski paraphernalia that had apparently shot off her body on impact. He didn’t need to say anything, though. His ashen face and clenched jaw said it all.

“Sorry I blew it,” she muttered. “But I think it’s going to be okay. He was a little suspicious, but as long as we don’t do anyth—”

His motions became terse and instead of walking, he got all caveman stompy. “Is that what you think is bothering me? Even if he is suspicious, it’s based on next to nothing, and he’ll get over it. What’s bothering me is that you almost just got killed. What is the matter with you, running off half-cocked that way? Why didn’t you wait for me?”

Her guilt dried up faster than a worm on a Texas highway. “I repeat, I did not know that was going to happen. Geez, I nearly broke my ever-loving neck trying to get some intel, for
you
, I might add, and you’re mad at me?” Her voice had gone shrill. She considered toning it down, but screw that. “I was going to let you off the hook for yelling at me before, but it’s been twenty minutes. Surely rational thought has re-entered the building.” She reached out and rapped him sharply on the noggin with her fist. “Anybody home?” she called loudly into his ear.

His eyes, previously glittering with fury, widened in shock. She’d struck Owen Phipps. She knew a split second of regret for her rash deed. Until his shoulders shook with laughter.

…

That night Owen stared down at a sleeping Lindy and brushed a gleaming lock of hair from her forehead. She was fine.
Everything
was fine.

The memory of her falling replayed in his head on a continuous loop, and it was making him mental. He had to get a grip. Maybe tomorrow, when she woke up and got out of bed, still in one piece, the cramp in his gut would loosen and he’d feel better. There was no escaping the hard truth, though. It was long past time to admit that, at some point, he’d begun caring about her. Sure, part of that was a sense of responsibility. He’d brought her here, after all, and if she hadn’t been trying to see what Jordan and Nico had been doing, she probably never would have lost control. But there was more to it than that. For a second, out on that mountain, he hadn’t known if she was alive or dead. Once the screaming, crimson panic of it all subsided, he realized that the world would be a lot worse for it if she were no longer in it. When she’d started laying into him, and Dear God, cracked her knuckles against his forehead? The relief had been overwhelming.

She stirred and he pulled the blanket higher over her shoulders. He’d woken her four times already, and felt confident she wasn’t concussed. Another hurdle cleared. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket and he crept from the room to answer it.

“What do you have for me?”

“I’m doing well, thanks for asking,” Gavin sniped. “Glad to see being loaded hasn’t improved your street-rat manners any.”

There weren’t a lot of people he would tolerate that kind of talk from, and lucky for Gavin, he was on the short list. They’d both gone to the school of hard knocks early on. Owen and his mother had to scrape together enough coin just to eat when his father had dumped them, and Gavin’s mother had been a prostitute and eventually left him with his crazy aunt at the age of nine. They hadn’t met until they were both adults, and successful ones at that, but like recognized like, and they’d hit it off famously. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. Did you want me to send you flowers, too?”

Gavin let out a short laugh. “I wouldn’t accept flowers from an ugly mug like you on a bet, so don’t get all hot and bothered at the thought. Now, down to business. Got a pen handy?”

Owen cracked open the desk drawer and pulled out a pen and pad. “Go ahead.”

“One Sarabeth Lucking. Twenty-nine years old, graduated top of her class at Loyola. Went to grad school and got her doctorate in psychology. As of last year, worked in private practice, now is an employee of The Healing Place, LLC. No priors, no warrants…no nothing.”

Gavin continued to rattle off names and information, but none of it was setting off any warning bells. “I got your email yesterday about Marcel Goudreaux, but I haven’t gotten the reports back. And last but not least, Liza Ingram. Licensed fitness instructor and nutritionist, graduated from University of Connecticut. No priors, no warrants. Had a restraining order against a boyfriend back in 2008. Works for The Healing Place, LLC. And…”

There was a long pause. “Yeah, and?” Owen prompted, impatience sharpening his tone.

“And, Liza Ingram died three years ago in a car accident.”

A heavy silence crackled over the phone. Adrenaline pulsed through him, but he kept his tone even. “You sure?”

“Sure as I can be. I tracked your Liza’s driver’s license to the dead woman’s social security number. I’m going to do some more digging, see if I can find some credit cards, do some backtracking, but a recent photo or a fingerprint would really help. If you can manage it, I’ve got a lot better chance figuring out who the impostor really is.”

They exchanged goodbyes, with Owen promising a photo or print in the next few days. After he clicked off, he poured himself a scotch and sat on the couch with his latest notes. Liza pretending to be someone else didn’t necessarily mean she was involved in whatever Nico’s game was, but it didn’t look good. He tried to stay calm. There was a lot they still didn’t know. Still, his blood buzzed with the thrill of the hunt.

He picked Cara’s number off speed dial and settled in for a chat. They’d found a thread, and if they tugged on it exactly right, the whole thing would unravel. He could feel it in his bones.