Wife for Hire - By Janet Evanovich Page 0,2
be someone he’d absolutely hate.
Maggie Toone was none of those things. She was devilishly cute with orange hair flying all over the place in tight little curls. She had a turned-up nose, snapping green eyes, and freckles everywhere. She was several inches shorter than the statuesque wife he’d ordered, and her voice was much too husky, her laugh far too infectious.
“I’m sorry, Miss Toone,” he said, “but I’m afraid you’re not exactly what I’m looking for.”
“What are you looking for?”
“A blonde.”
“I can be a blonde.”
“Yes, but I wanted someone taller.”
“I can be taller.”
“Nothing personal,” Hank said. “If I were in the market for a real wife, you’d be right up there at the top of the list, but I’m afraid you won’t do for a fake wife. I need something different.”
Maggie leaned forward, one elbow on the table. “Mr. Mallone, I don’t know how to break it to you, but it’s me or no one. I’m all the agency has. Nobody else is crazy enough to take a job as someone’s wife and go move up to the boondocks of Vermont for six months.”
“Are you kidding me? This is a great job. It’s pretty in Vermont. There’s free room and board and a salary on top of that. I’ve even hired a house keeper.” He looked at her closely. “If this is such a bad job, how come you want it? What’s the matter with you?”
It was a question that caused Maggie a little confusion because deep down inside she harbored the same concern. What was the matter with her? Why wasn’t she ever comfortable with the conventional? Aunt Marvina said Maggie did crazy things because she liked to attract attention. Maggie knew differently. She had never cared about the attention. She simply had different priorities.
She pushed her doubts aside and defiantly tipped her nose up a fraction of an inch. “I teach high school English, and I’ve taken a year’s leave of absence to write a book. Vermont would be perfect for me.”
Anything more than two hundred miles away from Riverside would be perfect, she thought. She loved her mother and father and Aunt Marvina, but she needed to get away from the little brick town with its winding streets and clay pit ponds.
She studied Hank Mallone and wondered if she was doing the right thing. His hair was dark, almost black, and a shade too long for the business mogul she’d been expecting. The employment agency had said he was chairman of the board of Mallone Enterprises, but he looked more like a model for a beer commercial. His eyes were overshadowed by thick black eyebrows and set deep into a tanned face. His nose was straight, his mouth was soft and sexy, his body was perfect—broad shoulders, slim hips, and a lot more muscles than she’d expected to find on a CEO.
“The employment agency said you were chairman of the board of Mallone Enterprises?”
The color in his face deepened. “I’m afraid they gilded the lily a little. I own Mallone Apple Orchards, and we have a factory that goes with it. Actually it’s not a factory. We call it a factory because we don’t have any real factories in Skogen, Vermont. Really it’s just a big corrugated metal shed where Mrs. Moyer and the Smullen twins bake pies. Then we sell the pies at Big Irma’s General Store.”
This wife hiring had seemed like a good idea yesterday when he’d talked to the employment agency, but now that he was face-to-face with his prospective bride, Hank Mallone felt like a damned fool. Normal, intelligent men did not go around hiring wives. How could he possibly explain his reasons for needing an instant wife without sounding like an idiot? And the last thing he wanted was to sound like an idiot to the woman sitting across from him.
He’d wanted to hire someone he could easily ignore, but he’d ended up with a freckle-faced firecracker who had him thinking about sleeping arrangements. His scheme was doomed. If he took Maggie Toone home with him, she would make his life a living hell.
He briefly thought about trying another employment agency, but he knew it was too late. He was hooked. He wasn’t sure exactly why, but he knew he was incapable of refusing anything to this adult version of Little Orphan Annie. If she wanted to go to Vermont to write a book, he’d move heaven and earth to get her there. He set his mouth in a grim line.
“So, what