Wife for Hire (7 page)

Chapter Seven

By the time they got downstairs, dinner was in full swing, and two of the three large tables were already filled with the couples and staff members. Jordan waved wildly from the last table.

“Lindy! Over here. We saved you a seat.”

“Naturally,” Owen muttered.

“Be nice.”

She slipped an arm through his, and they crossed the vast hardwood floors of the great room. She was determined to ignore the frisson of awareness that snaked through her at his touch. She needed to look at it as exposure therapy. The more they touched, in public at least, the less it would affect her. Pretty soon it’d be like walking chicken-wing with Melba down the street or something. After his little speech back at the room, she definitely needed to shore up her defenses because he was one potent hunk of man.

Marty stood politely as they approached the table. A moment later, Owen pulled out her chair.

“We waited for you to get our food,” Jordan said, flicking a pointed glance to her watch. “We’re starving.”

Lindy squashed the prickle of irritation. “We were only five minutes late, and really, you shouldn’t have waited. Next time, feel free to start without us.”

Marty smiled. “I told her we should go ahead and—”

“What are you, raised by wolves?” Jordan snapped. She stood and motioned for them all to follow suit. “Come on, we better get up there before there’s nothing left but a bunch of cold scraps.”

“The lesson here?” Owen murmured in Lindy’s ear. “Money doesn’t buy class.”

Luckily for them, Jordan’s estimation of the food was way off base. The food was fresh, hot, and plentiful. Lindy selected a steaming cup of butternut squash soup and piled her plate high with lollipop lamb chops and braised escarole. Owen went with the porterhouse steak and scalloped potatoes.

They returned to their seats and dug in, chatting their way through the meal.

“So what settled you on The Healing Place? Did you know someone who recommended it to you?” Lindy asked.

Marty shook his head. “Not really. When Jordan suggested it, my secretary gave me a list of places that fit the bill. We chose this one because Jordan loves Colorado.”

Lindy couldn’t imagine Jordan loving anything. As the evening progressed, though, in spite of the woman’s abrupt persona, she seemed to loosen up a little. After her second glass of wine, she laughed at an anecdote Owen shared. The change in her appearance was striking. Lindy had originally pegged her at around forty-five, but now she re-evaluated. With a less severe haircut and clothes that didn’t look like something she stole from the Queen Mother, she might even pass for thirty-something.

As Jordan grew more comfortable, so did Marty, as if he recognized a reprieve when he saw one. Their dynamic was fascinating, and Lindy had to remind herself to steer the conversation back to the retreat.

“How long have the two of you been married?” she asked.

“Ten years. Marty started working at my father’s practice right after his residency. He made partner after we got married, and he’s been there ever since.” Her relaxed posture went rigid again and she turned to Marty. “Are you done? I want to get some coffee.”

He set his plate aside and joined her at the dessert table while Lindy and Owen stayed behind.

“We should try to mingle once dinner is through. I’d like to talk with some of the other guests and see if any were recommended by a mutual friend, or if they’ve had dealings with Stephanopoulos in the past,” Owen said in low tones.

“Good idea. Keep in mind it’s early in the game. We don’t want to come out of the gate grilling people. We should glean what we can from normal conversation and then as the week progresses see if we can’t dig a little deeper, maybe steer the conversation towards finance and business ventures.”

“No need to steer it, love. Wealthy men always get around to talking about money and how they made theirs.” He chuckled, and Lindy’s pulse sped up at the appearance of a dimple and flash of strong, white teeth.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

A waitress approached and they quickly reverted to small talk.

Once the dinner plates were cleared, Stephanopoulos himself showed up. “How is everyone enjoying the accommodations so far?” he asked from his favorite spot in the center of the room.

The group murmured their approval, and he smiled. “Wonderful. Tonight we’ve planned an amazing and therapeutic couple’s game we call Compromise. Here at The Healing Place, we feel that one of the best things a husband and wife can do to make their relationship stronger is work on their ability to communicate and compromise. Dr. Lucking will tell you how it works.”

Sarabeth took the floor, giving Lindy a friendly wink, and Nico melted into the background. “Hi everyone. I got to work with some of you today, but eventually, over the course of the next three weeks, I will have the pleasure of torturing every one of you.” A smile lit her pretty face, and Lindy couldn’t help but smile back.

“She’s not kidding,” Owen grumbled. The other couples laughed, and a few of the guys gave him commiserating nods.

“But for now, I’ll take it easy on you all, and this one will be mostly painless. I know it’s been a long day, so I’m going to give you a short list of questions. You will answer them together. The key is to work it out until you come to a consensus and give one answer between the two of you. Easy, right?” The ladies nodded in agreement, but the men were wholly non-committal.

“Sounds like a trap,” Owen said.

Sarabeth gave him a patient smile, but didn’t respond. She made her way around the room handing out notes cards, pencils, and a sheet of questions to each couple. Once she finished, she set a timer on each table.

“You have five minutes to negotiate your best answer to four questions and write them down. I’ll read the first one aloud. Ready? Question one. If you could be any superhero you wanted, who would you be?”

Lindy turned over their timer and chatter filled the room. “Spider-Man,” she said without hesitation.

Owen’s brows rose high on his forehead. “Ridiculous. Batman is much cooler than Spider-Man.”

“Batman?” she scoffed. “I hate to break it to you, Irish, but Batman isn’t a real superhero. He’s just a rich guy with a lot of stuff. Even his muscles are made out of fiberglass.”

“Spider-Man is some prat who got bit by a radioactive spider. How does that make him any better?”

She rolled her eyes in disgust. “That’s how all the best superheroes are born. Toxic waste, hazardous chemicals, spider bites. I mean, I guess you could make an argument for Superman, but he’s actually more of an alien than a superhero.” She contemplated that for a moment and then shrugged. “Nope, I’m sticking with Spider-Man. Next question.”

“I’ll let you have that one, but only because I’m too dignified to argue over something so ludicrous. And because I get to answer number three.” He peered down at the card and read aloud. “If the world was about to end, and you had one day left, how would you spend it?” Owen gave her a silky smile then put pencil to paper.

She craned her neck to see the single word answer.

Shagging.

“All day? Seriously?” She eyed him incredulously.

“There would be food breaks, of course,” he said. “Would it make you feel better if I added that in?” he asked, pencil poised over his notebook.

She blew out a sigh. “No. Can’t we change that to half the day? Surely after twelve hours, we’d be bored…” She trailed off as his gaze dropped to her mouth and his nostrils flared.

“I’m certain that would not be the case.”

Heat bloomed between her thighs and she squirmed in her chair. “How could you possibly know that? We’ve never…”

“As I’ve said, I’m happy to remedy that sad state of affairs. Say the word, love.” His expression was teasing, but there was a note of longing that intensified the ache building in her stomach.

Had anyone ever expired from unrequited need? Maybe when she got back home she’d indulge in a one-night stand with a guy she didn’t like half as much as Owen. No chance of getting attached, but maybe she’d get what she so clearly needed.

Owen’s gaze burned into hers, and she returned it with a glare. “I already told you, not going to happen.”

“Roger that. But I want to go on record as saying, if it did?” The playfulness evaporated under the tension of a want so keen, it was etched on his face. “I would make it so good for you.”

The sensual promise reverberated through her, and she clenched her thighs together to ease the ache that grew sharper with each passing hour. She snatched the paper from his hand, silently cursing herself for not taking advantage of the removable showerhead in their bathroom, and read the next question.

“Question two, which you so conveniently skipped over. If you were stuck on a desert island for a year and you could bring three things with you, assuming there was already plenty of food and water available, what would they be?”

“—a cooler full of beer—”

“—my Kindle —”

He frowned. “Your Kindle? Why, so you could ignore me all day and night? I could keep you entertained.” The teasing note was back, and she nearly slumped with relief. The onslaught of his full, sexual attention was too much to bear.

“Or, you could keep yourself entertained and I could read my Kindle.”

“Nice. Well, you can have your Kindle if I can have my beer. What good is a desert island if you can’t kick back in the sun and have a pint?”

“Okay, agreed. Now that I think about it, maybe the third thing should be more practical. How about sunblock?”

“My, you’re a smart lass.” He nodded and wrote down their answers, and she tried not to dwell on the flutter of pleasure that danced through her at his praise.

“Last one. If your house was on fire, what is the first item you would grab above all else?” she asked.

“My laptop,” Owen said. “I’ve everything on it, and it’d be a bitch to replace.”

Lindy shook her head. “Seriously? That’s…a thing. A hunk of metal.”

“What would you take?”

“My pictures. The photos of my mom and dad with me, Mal and Nate.”

Owen pursed his lips and nodded grudgingly. “You’re right. Scratch the laptop.” He wrote in their answer, and her heart felt a little lighter.

A moment later, Sarabeth called, “Okay, time’s up!”

“We’re not done yet,” Calvin Cedarhurst said.

Jordan chimed in behind him. “Us either.”

“It’s fine. Most couples don’t finish the first time. It’s really neat to see, at the end of the three weeks, how many of you will be able to complete your task in the allotted time. It’s a great way to measure progress. Did anyone complete all four answers?”

Lindy raised her hand. “We did.”

Sarabeth beamed at her. “Great start, O’Neils. You get the gold star for the day.”

She shot Owen a look and he shrugged. It was a sad state of affairs when the only non-couple at the resort had fared better than all of their married counterparts.

Sarabeth collected their sheets and filled them in on the next day’s activities. “Today we got to see you interact as couples. Tomorrow we’ll be doing some one-on-one work. Dress for comfort, active-wear preferably, and we’ll meet here at eight o’clock a.m. for your morning itineraries.”

Lindy stood and gathered her purse.

“I’ll be right back,” Owen said. His gaze was trained on Stephanopoulos sitting alone at the corner table.

“So what did you think?” Jordan asked, sidling up to Lindy while Owen made a beeline for Nico. “I thought it was interesting. Marty and I only had one more to do. We got the answer, but didn’t have time to write it down,” she said with a satisfied smirk.

Lindy wasn’t surprised. It was likely a much easier game when one person had all the right answers, but she gave the other woman an encouraging smile. “Great job.”

“Thanks. Hey, did you guys want to go to the bar for drinks tonight? Marty and I were thinking we’d have a nightcap before bed.”

“I’ll ask Owen, but I’m beat. The time change and all, it’s been a bear of a day.”

A large, warm hand covered her low on her back and she startled, whipping around. Owen stood there wearing a stiff smile. “Hey, honey, everything all right?”

Her heart slowed to a more normal rhythm. “Yes. Yes, everything’s fine. The Wa— ah, Jordan was asking if we wanted to have drinks with them.”

Owen shook his head, but pulled off a regretful expression beautifully. “I think we’re going to stay in and catch up on our rest. Another night though, yeah?”

Jordan narrowed her eyes at him but nodded. “That’s fine.”

“I’m going to say goodnight to Marty and Calvin and we can go,” Owen told Lindy.

Jordan stared at his retreating form before turning to face Lindy. “Why do you flinch whenever he touches you?” she asked, her hard eyes filling with concern. “That’s the second time I noticed that. He doesn’t…hit you, does he? I don’t want to pry, but if he hit you once, he’ll hit you again. If Marty hit me, he would rue the day.”

“It’s nothing like that. Owen would never put a hand on me in anger. It’s me. I’ve been feeling weird about intimacy lately,” she said off the top of her head, regretting that she had to go there. Owen was going to be pissed, but on the spur of the moment, in light of her inadvertent actions, she couldn’t think of anything better. “That’s part of the reason we came here. We’re going through a rough patch.”

“Did he cheat?” Jordan whispered.

Did he? She paused for a stretch, trying to figure out if that was a good direction to take things. It was better than saying he hadn’t been amorous toward her. She knew where that would end up getting her. On the business end of Owen’s full-court press.

“Yep. He’s
extremely
virile. I couldn’t keep up so he found a woman—actually, it was more like three—who could.”

Jordan’s eyes widened, and she clapped a hand to her chest in surprise. “That bastard!”

“It’s okay. We’re working through it. It’s taking a while, though. I still have a hard time knowing where his hands have been, if you know what I mean.” She wagged her eyebrows and Jordan wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I guess so. You seem to be taking it really well. I’d kill Marty.”