Wife for Hire by Christine Bell Page A

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?”
    Bitsy nodded. “Shellfish only. Maybe there will be shrimp.” She focused on the conversation instead of the moves and her defeated eyes took on a speculative gleam. “Did you see they’re offering ballroom dancing later? Calvin would never, but it looks fun.”
    “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