Wife for Hire by Janet Evanovich Page B

Riverside?”
    â€œNo. Aunt Kitty and Johnny lived in Easton, Pennsylvania. Aunt Kitty stayed there so she could be near Johnny, and after some hard times she was befriended by a woman who ran abrothel. One thing led to another, and eventually Aunt Kitty took over as madam. She moved to Riverside when she was an old woman.”
    â€œAnd you’ve got all this in your book, huh?”
    â€œI will eventually.” She gave one last sad sigh and got off his lap. “Chapter two is an emotional chapter.”
    â€œI can see that.” He half-filled a wineglass with the chilled Chablis and passed it to her.
    Maggie took the wine and held it a moment before drinking. She watched while he poured some for himself, and smiled when he clinked glasses in a toast.
    â€œTo Aunt Kitty,” he said. He took a sip, set the glass on the desk, and reached for the fragile leather-bound book Maggie had left lying open. “Do you mind if I read this?”
    â€œI don’t think Aunt Kitty would mind. It’s the first volume. She started keeping the diary when she was sixteen.”
    He read the first page and drank a little more wine. Then he thumbed through the book, reading pages at random. “This is actually very interesting.”
    â€œYou sound surprised.”
    â€œI’ve always thought girls’ diaries were sappy. I always figured it was something you filledwith lies and exaggerations and then left laying around for your friends to read.”
    â€œI think the middle diaries are the most interesting. They detail house hold accounts for the brothel. It’s a unique slant on history.”
    Hank selected one of the middle diaries and began reading. His eyes opened wide, and his mouth creased into a broad grin. “Whoa! You were right. This is definitely more interesting. Aunt Kitty had a real flare for words.”
    â€œWhat page are you on?”
    â€œPage forty-two. She’s talking about Eugenia and the button salesman.”
    â€œGive me that book!”
    Hank edged away from her, holding the book too high for her to reach. “Each month Eugenia waited for the button salesman to come into town,” Hank read. “Eugenia would wear her sheer red dress and her fancy red-and-black garters…”
    Maggie lunged for the book, and Hank pinned her against the wall. His eyes were dancing with mischief. “Do you have any garters, Maggie?”
    â€œYou’re squashing me!”
    â€œStop squirming. No, on second thought, I think I like the squirming.”
    She instantly went still. “I’m going to scream for Elsie.”
    â€œCoward.”
    â€œYou bet.”
    Hank continued to read out loud. “And Eugenia would dot her very best, most expensive French perfume at every pulse point. On the column of her neck…” Hank dipped his head and leisurely, thoroughly kissed the pulse point in Maggie’s neck. “At her wrist…” Hank’s mouth moved over Maggie’s wrist with slow passion. “Along the heated crevice between her full breasts…”
    The air felt trapped in Maggie’s lungs. Her chest burned with it. Her head hummed with Hank’s words, with the sound of his voice, soft and resonant. Desire was rising from somewhere deep inside her and radiating outward in waves that left her weak-kneed.
    He’d opened the top buttons on her cotton shirt. It was an outrageous liberty, she thought, but she was powerless to stop him. She wanted to feel his mouth on her breast, and when his lips finally grazed along the soft flesh that swelled from the cup of her lacy bra, she shuddered.
    â€œShould I continue?” he asked.
    â€œYes.” She could barely say it, barely hear her own words over the pounding of her heart.
    â€œShe perfumed the tips of her breasts…” he said, improvising wildly.
    His large hand covered her, molding her to fit his palm. She was soft and full, and he thought he would