Wife for Hire by Christine Bell Page B

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