Susan Crosby - Husband for Hire

“I could rub your neck for you before we go,” she said.

“Worker’s compensation?” he asked, his eyes sparkling, as if he knew exactly why she’d offered. She’d practically drooled over him when she’d seen him shirtless.

“Just for a little while,” he said after a few seconds.

“Shirt off, please,” she said, aiming for casualness.

He unbuttoned it then tossed it onto the second chair. Becca set her hands on his shoulders. His skin felt warm and smooth, his muscles bunched and tight.

“Relax,” she said quietly. “It’ll be more effective.”

She felt his shoulders relax but noticed that he wasn’t shutting his eyes, his gaze aimed at the kitchen. To distract himself? Did he think he wouldn’t feel her touch as much?

“Close your eyes, Gavin. Enjoy it.”

“I might enjoy it too much.”

Dear Reader,

How do you measure success? In Husband for Hire , I explore that question, seeking answers to a subject that is individual and personal. What constitutes success can only be defined by the individual, obviously, but there are universal aspects, especially regarding the balance of work and play. Now and then we need to slow down, step back and take a look at where we’ve been, where we are and where we’re going. And if we don’t like what we see, we need the courage to change. Change is hard, as my characters Gavin and Becca discover, but well worth the journey. Learning to stop and smell the roses isn’t a cliché for them, but a necessary action to peace of mind—and to finding love.

I hope you enjoy their journey,

Susan

SUSAN CROSBYbelieves in the value of setting goals, but also in the magic of making wishes, which often do come true—as long as she works hard enough. Along life’s journey she’s done a lot of the usual things—married, had children, attended college a little later than the average co-ed and earned a BA in English. Then she dived off the deep end into a full-time writing career, a wish come true.

Susan enjoys writing about people who take a chance on love, sometimes against all odds. She loves warm, strong heroes and good-hearted, self-reliant heroines, and she will always believe in happily-ever-after. More can be learned about her at www.susancrosby.com.

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Jerry and Linda, a hardworking couple who also remember to stop and smell the roses—and the cactus! You’re such an inspiration.

“I knew it,” Gavin Callahan said, aiming his fork at his sister Shana. “I knew you had an ulterior motive for inviting me to lunch.”

The downtown Sacramento bistro teemed with lunchgoers whose voices echoed in the small space. Gavin had been thoroughly enjoying a well-prepared Cobb salad—until Shana dropped her bombshell.

“Hear me out before you dismiss the idea altogether,” Shana said, flicking her golden-blond hair out of her face. “You’d only be pretending to be some one’s husband for two days. That’s all. Two short days out of your life. Really, Gavin, what else are you doing, anyway? You’re on leave from work. You’re single. You’re free to come and go. It could be fun.”

“It doesn’t interest me in the least. And I took a leave of absence for a reason, Shana.”

“Please, please, please,” she begged. “You won acting awards in high school. You were good! It’ll be fun, and you’ll be doing me a favor that could end up boosting my career with the agency. Pretty please, Gavin. You want to help a single mom struggling to raise a baby girl, don’t you? Your own sweet niece …”

Gavin laughed at her dramatic cajoling. At twenty-nine, she was five years younger than he. They hadn’t been particularly close while growing up, and until recently they hadn’t even seen each other for ten years, although that hadn’t been his fault.

“You’re aware of what I’ve been through in the past year,” he said. “I was assaulted by enough lies to know I wouldn’t want to deliberately participate in one myself. Plus, I respect the institution of marriage. And another thing, how do you think anyone successfully fakes being married, even for two days?” He shook his head. “I’ll pass.”

Shana reached across the table and grabbed his hand. “I’m serious about this helping my career,” she said earnestly. “Julia Swanson—she’s the one who owns the temp agency—is desperate. If I can find a man to take the job, she’ll think of me first for the really good jobs that come in. The more money I make, the less dependent I am on anyone else. I want to stand on my own, Gavin.”

“Now you’ve stooped to emotional blackmail?” he asked, although his heart did twist just a little.

“Did it work?” She looked hopeful and expectant, with just enough mischievousness in her eyes to make him smile.

He took a sip of water, watching her, letting her wait. Finally he said, “I’ll meet with this Julia Swanson and see what she has to say.”

Shana bounced up and ran around the table to hug him, almost choking the breath out of him.

“I’m not promising anything,” he said sternly.

“Julia can talk anyone into doing anything.” She looked smug as she sat down again. “You have a one-o’clock appointment with her, so hurry up and finish your lunch.”

“Pretty sure of yourself,” he said, catching their server’s attention to get the bill.

“‘Be prepared,’ you know,” she quipped. “Her office is on the third floor of the building across the street. I’ll go with you.”

“You’ve done enough, thank you. I can take it from here.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Call me when you’ve decided, either way, okay?”

“You’ll be the first to know.” They walked outside. Shana pointed to the building. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he said, then hugged her, relieved to feel the few pounds she’d put on recently. She was still too slender, but it was progress.

Gavin made his way to the office of At Your Service, a high-end clerical and household staffing business. For the past few months Shana had been working temp jobs through the agency—nicknamed by its clients “Wives for Hire.” Or in this case, Gavin thought, “Husband for Hire.” He wondered if this spin on their nickname had ever happened before.

“Ms. Swanson will be right with you,” a pretty brunette receptionist said to him after he entered the quiet, tasteful office. “Please make yourself comfortable.”

Although several chairs were lined up in the reception area, Gavin couldn’t sit. Instead he wandered over to a window overlooking the busy street below. He could almost feel the energy—mostly negative—crackling inside him. He didn’t like being placed in this position. He wanted Shana to be successful, but—

“Hello, Gavin,” said a smooth, female voice from behind him. “I’m Julia Swanson. Please come in.”

The woman was ageless and elegant, from her demure ash-blond upsweep to her sage-green suit to her four-inch heels, which brought her within a couple of inches of his six feet. He followed her into her office. On the wall behind her wide, mahogany desk was the company logo, along with the words When you need the personal touch … printed in gold-script lettering, classy and subdued, like everything else about Julia Swanson’s business.