enough to lie to her via text and email. He didn’t have the stomach to do it face to face, so he’d avoided her for almost two weeks now. He was sure she was getting suspicious. It was for the best, though, and once he’d done what he’d set out to do, he’d tell her the truth.
He opened up his email application and sent Gavin a list of the people he wanted to run a check on, including the resort staff members he’d met. That done, he made a split-second decision and decided to hit the gym before going to breakfast. Might help his back, and God knew he needed the physical outlet.
Ten minutes later, he stepped through the glass door of the top-of-the-line gym. The telltale clang of dumbbells hitting the ground reverberated through the room. He glanced toward the sound to see Nico Stephanopoulos flexing in the mirror.
“Morning,” Owen said, willing his teeth to unclench.
“Top o’ the mornin’ to ya, Owen,” Nico said with a grin.
Fuckwit.
Nico shifted under Owen’s gaze. “I can finish later if you want the place to yourself,” he said, gesturing toward the door.
Owen took a deep breath. If he didn’t master his reactions to this man, and soon, the whole trip would be a bust. As much as Nico’s mere presence made Owen’s skin crawl, this was a great opportunity to try and see which way the wind was blowing. Would he try to bring up some sort of shady investment opportunity? Or maybe lay the groundwork for a future strike? He pinned a half-hearted smile on his face. “Not at all. Please, go ahead.”
Nico seemed to think it over, then nodded, bending to scoop up the dumbbells again.
Rather than warm up on the treadmill on the other side of the room as was his habit, Owen opted for the free weights to encourage conversation. He did a quick stretch and went straight into his arm work. After a minute or so, ever the consummate host, Nico broke the silence.
“So, Owen, have you been to Colorado before?”
“Yes, many times for business, never for pleasure.”
“And which do you consider this?”
“Truthfully? Neither. My wife wanted to come, so we’re here. Not to be rude—I’m sure you have great results—but it’s not something I would have chosen to do. That said, it might work out in the end. I’ve made a few business contacts that show some promise already. If they pan out and the wife is happy, it will have been three weeks well spent.” That was an opening if there ever was one.
Nico moved to the leg press machine. “For your sake, I hope it works out that way.”
For a few minutes, the only sound was their heavy breathing as they powered through their workouts. Owen waiting for Nico to tug on the bait, even a little, but no go. Interesting.
“You married?”
Nico shook his head. “I…was.” He looked away, his throat working noiselessly. “My wife passed away two years ago.”
The guy was good. His voice actually cracked a little on the end.
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“It was a hard time, but we had a great marriage and I believe in the sanctity. Eventually, I’ll take the plunge again, but I’m too involved with this place right now to get serious with anyone. It’s noble work we’re doing here, and I’m not ready to set it aside or hand over the reins quite yet.”
Owen struggled not to launch himself at the pious bastard and shake him until his Chiclet teeth rattled.
“When I do get married again, I’ll make sure I can commit one hundred percent. You have to do that if you want it to work. If not, it’s impossible to be with only one person, ’til death do you part, don’t you think?” His dark eyes locked onto Owen’s.
Owen thought hard before he answered. He and Lindy had decided that consistency was key, but in spite of the fact that this was play-acting, it still grated on him to brand himself a cheater after seeing the pain his own father’s infidelity had wrought.
Focus on the end game, he reminded himself grimly. “I wouldn’t know,” he said after a long pause. “That’s part of the reason we’re here. I was unfaithful.”
Nico nodded. “I see. I hope that The Healing Place can make a difference for the two of you. And don’t beat yourself up about it. Our therapists deal with this issue constantly. I think monogamy is in direct opposition to the true nature of a man. It’s a constant struggle, and if she’s willing to forgive you, you need to forgive you too. The measure of a strong couple is not the absence of mistakes, it’s the ability to work through them and come out the other side intact.”
Now, in spite of being a “believer in the sanctity,” it was as if Nico was absolving him of his infidelity. But then again, that’s was conmen did, wasn’t it? They watched, they listened, they learned, and then they told people exactly what they wanted to hear.
While Owen pretended to contemplate the other man’s “profound” advice, Nico stood, toweling off his face. “I’m going to take a quick shower and get ready for the morning’s sessions. It was nice chatting with you.”
“You too.”
Nico left and Owen stared after him, trying to put the pieces together. Even though he’d given him the opening to discuss business, Nico hadn’t bitten. He’d kept the focus on the retreat. Was Nico slow-playing him? They did have three weeks. Maybe subtlety was his game? Or maybe…
No. He refused to consider the idea that this was a genuine business venture. The signs all pointed against it. The short-term lease, the quick, slapdash manner in which he’d put together the company. Not to mention Nico himself. After some research, it became clear that he’d never held a legitimate job in his life. Why start now? Hell, if he was being honest, there was more to it than that. It couldn’t be a legit business, because if it was, Owen had failed his sister.
And that was unacceptable.
…
Lindy sat on a mat in the center of the room, trying not to nod off. A Sounds of Nature CD was doing its best to lull her into a sleep-deprived stupor. That would be a nifty feat, considering she was tangled up like a pretzel. Maybe it would’ve helped if the lights weren’t so dim, but Liza the yoga instructor preferred to work in the near-dark.
“Breathe in deeply through your nose, then exhale, whoosh. Very nice, Lindy. Bitsy, let your body relax into it more. You’re tense. Feel the breath moving through you, lengthening your muscles.”
The rustling of wind through a bamboo forest faded, only to be replaced by the plaintive call of whales and crashing waves. Lindy’s eyes drifted shut again. It had been a brutally long night. After her kiss with Owen and the most awesome foot massage in history, he’d handily usurped Ryan Gosling as the leading man in her dreams. And what dreams. Images of them entangled together tattooed the back of her eyelids. She snapped them open.
“Lindy? You still with us?”
“Yep.” She gave the pretty brunette a thumbs up and spared a glance at her watch. Twenty more minutes. Liza moved to the other side of the room to straighten out Jordan’s lotus pose, which she insisted snippily was perfectly fine the way it was.
“I’m not going to make it,” Bitsy whispered.
All the women had opted for the beginner’s yoga class over the “Dealing With Stress Through Meditation” workshop, and it appeared that poor Bitsy was regretting the decision. One would think, with such a small frame, she would’ve taken to it like a fish to water. Instead, her chin quivered as she failed, yet again, to contort her body into the next pose.
“It’s all right,” Lindy said from the corner of her mouth. She recalled her own first time doing yoga. She’d accidentally signed up for an intermediate class and was an absolute menace on the mat. She’d gone down like a brick during the “dancer pose” and took two other students with her on the way, resulting in a humiliating display of human dominoes. Since then, she’d stuck to DVDs from home.
“After this, you never have to do yoga again. Let’s talk about what we’re going to have for lunch, okay? I overheard someone say something about seafood. I hope they have salmon. Do you eat seafood?”
“Part of this retreat is making sure you find what makes you happy, aside from being half of a couple. It’s about both people feeling fulfilled and getting what they need, right?”
The other woman nodded hesitantly.
“So go without him,” Lindy said.
She worried her bottom lip with her teeth for a moment. “Maybe. It’s funny you mention that, because Nico was saying the same thing.”
The door swung open, letting in a flood of sunlight. As if summoned by Bitsy’s words, Nico stood in silhouette, unmoving for a long moment, almost as if he knew how dashing he looked.
“Ladies,” he said, walking toward them, hands outstretched. “How are things here today? Everyone feeling limber?”
Liza crossed the room and gave him a welcoming smile. “What a treat! Were you going to do a demonstration for the ladies or are you just stopping by?”
“I thought I’d see how everyone was progressing, and if there were any students who could handle a more advanced class.” His gaze swept the room, landing on Lindy and holding. “Belinda, your form is excellent. Do you want to step it up a notch with me one on one, break a sweat?”
Bitsy let out a squeak of protest, and Lindy hesitated, but only for a second. Twenty minutes alone with Nico was too fat of a worm to pass up. “Sorry, Bitsy. It’ll be okay, I promise. Keep thinking about shrimp salad and the quickstep. I’ll see you at lunch,” she whispered and stood.
“Sure thing, but go easy on me,” she said to Nico. “I’m good at the floor work, but once I’m on my feet, it gets dicey.”
His white teeth gleamed against his olive skin and he held out his arm. “Deal. We’ll go next door to the smaller studio. I prefer it brighter. Is that all right with you?”
“Perfect.” Despite the fact that he was the trappee and she the trapper in this scenario, as she slipped her arm through his and they exited the room, she couldn’t help feeling a little “fly” to his “spider.”
Step into my parlor…
Chapter Ten
“How are you enjoying your stay so far?” Nico led her down the short hallway, steering her toward the adjacent room.
“Really nice. Unplugging and being away from the phone has been lovely and the location is stunning.”
“Glad to hear it.” He held open the door and waved her in. “After you.”
He flipped on the lights, and she took stock of the area. Mirrors lined the walls and a ballet bar ran the perimeter of the room. “This is also the studio we use for ballroom dance. You should try it. It’s a lot of fun.”
“I think I will.” It would be the first time she’d danced in a setting like this since her mother passed, but suddenly it seemed imperative that she do it. Who knew? Maybe he’d show up there if he knew she was going, and she’d hate to miss an opportunity to find out something that could potentially further their investigation.
He strolled to a stereo system flanked by two giant speakers and fiddled with the buttons. A moment later, strains of new age music filled the space. “This okay for you?”
“Fine,” she said with a nod.
“I just left the gym, so I’m warm too. We can jump right in.”
He stood in the front of the room, motioning for her to join him. He led her through a series of moves, bridging the gap between them until he was only a few feet away.
“Want to try a couple advanced moves? I’ll help you.”
“I’m game,” she said with a smile.
“Feel the burn.” His hands pressed into her lower back, compelling her forward, further into the stretch. “Can you feel it?”
His voice was low…close to her ear. She tamped down the urge to pull away. If he was going to seduce her and then try to con her into investing in some bogus company, it was crucial she allow him to think he was succeeding to some extent.
“Yes. Feels good.” She matched her tone to his, trying to anticipate his next move. But there was no next move. Each time it seemed as if he might cross the line, he drew away. Interesting.
“Now on to your back.”
She complied, rolling her spine until she was sitting up and then slowly sinking down, using her core muscles to control her descent.
“Lovely. You’re in fabulous shape for this. Is your trainer a yogi, or do you do other types of exercise as well?”
“Trainer? Yes. My trainer is,” she cleared her throat, “ah, you know, an all-around trainer, basically. We do lots of stuff. Yoga. Jazzercise.” Crap, was that even a thing anymore? Her mom used to do it back when she was kid, and if memory served, there were a lot of leg warmers and sweatbands involved.
He didn’t seem put off. He looked impressed. “Sticking with the old school exercises. I like it. Okay.” He patted her knee. “Lift your legs up and settle into the plow pose.”
She swung both her legs up perpendicular to her prone body and used her hands to anchor her back. He assisted, encouraging her softly until her legs were behind her head. “Really nice, Belinda.”
“Lindy,” she corrected him on a gasp, trying to speak despite her squished diaphragm.
“Lindy, then. It’s a lovely name.”
She strained to hear something menacing or lascivious in his tone, but there was nothing. They moved through the routine, and he continued to assist her, but while he touched her often, it never escalated to a point that she could have called it inappropriate. If he planned to seduce her, he wouldn’t try today.
After a few more stretches, he pulled her to her feet. “Amazing. Same time on Wednesday? No point in you attending the beginner’s class.”
“Sure, sounds great.”
“Do you think your husband would want to join us?” He led her from the room. “If you do it at home together, no reason to buck the tradition.”
“He doesn’t do yoga with me back home.”
“Really? I assumed…he’s in such great shape.”
Didn’t she know it. “He works out a lot, but he doesn’t like yoga.”
Nico’s handsome face darkened into a frown. “Are you disappointed by that? I must say, there are thousands of men who would happily set aside their own plans to sweat next to a gorgeous woman. Don’t let his lack of interest in your hobby shake your confidence. I’m sure if he wasn’t such a busy man, he would be all over the opportunity.”
That was a backhanded compliment if she’d ever heard one, and she ruminated on it before answering. “Thanks. You’re right about him being busy. I’m lucky if he can make our monthly date night.”
Nico clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “I’m sure he wished he could be there.” But his tone indicated something else entirely.
Was there something to his behavior, or was he just an asshole? She’d have to dig a little deeper next time she saw him.
“I really appreciate the one on one. Great session.”
“My pleasure.” He stopped walking and gestured toward a large oak door. “This is my stop. I have some business away from the lodge tonight, so if I don’t see you tomorrow, I’ll see you for yoga Wednesday?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
He let himself in, and she gave him a jaunty wave, continuing down the hallway toward the great room. She walked in, her eyes immediately scanning the area for Owen, which didn’t take long. He sat by himself at a table reading the newspaper and looked up when she approached.
“Hey there. How was your morning? Still sore from the couch?” She tried to keep her gaze trained on his face, but she’d never seen him dressed so casually, and the athletic wear looked fantastic on him. If the whole venture capitalism gig dried up, he could easily capture hearts and imaginations if he were plastered on a billboard like that in Times Square. Or, even better, he might be able to pull off the whol
e David Beckham routine in nothing more than a pair of skivvies.
“I’m fine, a little tight, but not terrible.” He looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. “I spent some time with Nico at the gym, which was good. I skipped the morning sessions to take notes and make some calls.”
“How did things go with Nico?”
“Okay. Opened a dialogue, couple things I want to keep an eye on, but nothing solid yet. It’s going to unravel slowly, I think, so it was a good start. How was yoga?”
“Great,” she said, sliding into the chair across from him. “And funny you should mention Nico, because I spent some time with him as well. He came in about halfway through the class to see if there were any advanced students who wanted more of a challenge. We ended up having a private lesson next door.”
Owen set down the paper and stared at her. “Really?”
“Yeah. We’re going to do it again on Wednesday. I can’t say I learned anything particularly useful, but I do think the fact that he’s scheduling time with me could mean something. Maybe he’s grooming me for some sort of move later?”
“Did he touch you?”
The growl in Owen’s voice coupled with his flinty gaze had her sitting back. “Shh! And what do you mean? He touched me the way you touch someone when you’re teaching them in yoga. But in a sexual way? No. I thought you’d be happy he was angling to spend time with me. So what’s the problem?”
He unclenched his jaw, lowering his voice back to a murmur. “I am happy. You did great. He’s such a lowlife, and sometimes it makes rational thought go out the window. You’re a married woman in his eyes. Where does he get off seeking you out, getting you in a room alone and touching you?”
“When you say it that way, it sounds a lot more nefarious than it was. I’m a big girl. I knew what I was getting into when I signed on to do this. If his game requires seduction, we both knew I’d have to give him some encouragement to find out his end game. Do you want me to handle it a different way?”
“No.” He blew out a sigh and tapped a staccato rhythm on the table between them. “You did exactly right. Make sure keep to your guard up. I have no indication that he could be dangerous or violent, but he can be persuasive, and his view of what’s appropriate might not line up with yours. Things don’t need to get touchy-feely. So long as he thinks he has you mentally, you can certainly stall on the physical side of things.”
“Agreed. Believe me, I have no intention of letting him get too close.”
Several other people straggled in, and Owen glanced at his watch. “It’s couple’s time in twenty minutes. What’s the plan? You want to do the ballroom dancing or the team building?”
She pursed her lips. On the one hand, she felt a little bad for leaving Bitsy in the lurch and wanted to be there for support in case she got up the nerve to take the class without Calvin. On the other, the thought of being wrapped in Owen’s strong arms for the next two hours terrified her. Still, they had to get more comfortable with casual contact. At least this way they’d have chaperones to dissuade her from tossing him on the floor and having her way with him. “I’m already sweaty, so we might as well do the ballroom and save team-building for another day.”
“Sounds good.” Owen stood and pulled off his hoody, revealing a second-skin, black tank top. Her fingers itched to trace the line of his beautifully defined traps and rounded shoulders.
As she swallowed hard to avoid drooling, she realized she’d been dead wrong on one count.
Becks had nothing on Owen Phipps.
…
A half hour later, Owen cursed himself. Why had he let her choose their activity? A sweaty Lindy in his arms mirrored his dreams from the night before so completely that he could barely think straight.
It had started off well enough. Three couples had shown up along with a solo Bitsy Cedarhurst. Rather than pair them off by couple right away, the men worked with the female instructor, Talia, while the women worked with the male instructor, Marcel. They’d learned some basic salsa steps, and things were cruising along until they’d moved on to practicing the moves with their spouses. Bitsy stayed with Marcel and, if it wouldn’t have seemed totally weird and inappropriate, Owen would have asked to do the same with Talia. Instead, Lindy was wrapped around him like a starfish on a clam, and he could barely think straight, never mind execute the dance moves.
“Chin up,” Talia said, touching her index finger to his jaw. “Get out of your head, Owen. You have to feel to dance.” The cool blonde gave him an encouraging smile. “Let yourself go. Pretend it’s you and your beautiful wife, alone in a room where no one is watching.”
World’s worst idea, so instead, he did the exact opposite, imagining they were in a room filled with people. Tons of people. Screaming babies. Grumpy old men. His sister. Hell, anything to distract him from the feel of Lindy’s tight little body swaying sinuously against his to the throbbing Latin beat.
“Your hips should be touching,” Talia said, tapping Lindy lightly on the flank until she stepped in.
Their bodies were flush now, nothing separating them but two thin layers of cotton which, on the bottom half, wasn’t going to cut it with his interest steadily on the rise. Every twitch, every swivel, sent a bolt of lust to his groin. Mercifully, right when he’d run through the gamut of erection-killing images, Talia clapped her hands together and spoke.
“Okay, fine job everyone. Let’s separate back into groups and we’ll
Wife for Hire Page 7
