Date for Hire (Companions for Hire, #0.5) Read online

  Weston happens to come out of his office just then. Jerks to a stop. Then takes a dramatic step backward. Just before he closes his office door again, I hear him mutter, “Some place of business this turned out to be.”

  AUTHOR’S NOTE: Date for Hire is a prequel story for a new series I’ll be releasing next year called Companions for Hire. But Damian from this story is the hero of Purchased Husband, the final book in the Trophy Husbands series which will be coming out in December. You can preorder Purchased Husband now, and you’ll find an excerpt from it on the following pages.

  If you want to keep up with my new releases and sales, you can sign up for my monthly newsletter.

  Excerpt from Purchased Husband

  WHEN I WALK INTO A Atlanta coffee shop the following day and see the best-looking man I’ve ever seen, I figure that’s got to be Damian.

  Aurora from Companions for Hire showed me pictures of him when we discussed my needs. Tall and well-built with broad shoulders, long legs, and lean hips. Dark hair. Striking blue-green eyes. The perfectly chiseled features of a model for upscale cologne or luxury cars. The pictures were great, but also rather unreal. I could aesthetically see the man is handsome, but he didn’t really do it for me.

  And that’s fine. I’m not looking for a guy who does it for me. I just want a man who will suit my practical needs for the next six months. The truth is, until this moment, I was taking some comfort in the fact that this man is attractive but not likely to attract me.

  I was wrong. Holy hell, I was wrong.

  He looks like a real person as he’s sitting there in a corner table. (Despite the fact that the place is crowded on a Sunday afternoon, he’s somehow managed to snag the best seat.) He’s dressed simply in jeans and a black crewneck, and he’s focused down on his phone. He’s relaxed. Reading. He lifts a hand to rub the back of his neck, and the move highlights the well-defined muscles in his arm.

  And my whole body wakes up. My eyes. My mouth. My lungs. The blood in my veins. The female parts between my legs that really shouldn’t be this awake in the middle of a coffee shop.

  Shit.

  What the hell?

  I wouldn’t have picked out this guy if I’d known he could make a girl feel like this from nothing more than an initial glance across a crowded room. I thought he was too perfect to be sexy to me.

  I’m standing there like a dope, clutching the strap to my leather bag, when he glances up and sees me. I’m not sure why he knows I’m the person he’s supposed to meet. Yes, I’m staring at him dazedly, but a guy this hot must get that fairly regularly.

  He knows it’s me though. He stands up with a smile.

  It takes a couple of seconds for my body to obey my mind, but I manage to walk over to his table.

  “Melody Clarke?” he says in a pleasantly husky baritone.

  “Yep. That’s me.” I gesture away the hand he’s extended. I’m not a hand-shaker, and I’m definitely not going to risk touching this guy. I give him a little wave instead as I take the chair opposite his. “You’re Damian Winters?”

  “Yes.” He’s sitting down too. Some men think it’s rude that I won’t shake their hands, but his eyebrows are arched and one corner of his mouth gives a little twitch, like he might be amused. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” I feel breathless and flushed, which isn’t at all like me. I’m well-known for being straightforward and unflappable. So I jump past preliminaries and get right down to business. “Aurora told me all about you. She said you would suit my needs perfectly.”

  “I hope so. I’m more than willing to give it a try.” His eyes are scanning my face and occasionally dropping down to my body. I can’t tell from his face what he thinks of my appearance.

  If he was hoping for a beauty queen or a sex goddess, he’s going to be disappointed.

  I remind myself he’s probably not hoping for anything but to get paid at the end of his job, and I press on. “Okay. Here’s what I need.”

  His eyebrows are dark and just a little thicker than they should be. I notice it because it’s one of the few parts of his body I can see that aren’t perfect. They arch up again, as if my no-nonsense style surprises and amuses him. “I’m listening.”

  “I need someone to act like my husband for six months. I’m sure Aurora has told you. We don’t actually have to get married. It’s not going to matter, since no one is likely to check into marriage registrations. You just need to pretend to be my husband on the weekends when we go up to Charleston, West Virginia and visit my mom and her new husband’s family.”

  Damian nods. “Okay. That sounds easy enough. Aurora said you had a tricky family issue. Do you mind if I ask what it is? Why do you need a husband so much you’re willing to pay for one?”

  It’s a perfectly natural question. Anyone would ask it. And there’s nothing rude or intrusive about his tone or expression. But I feel my defenses rising anyway. I’m a private person, and this man is a stranger. “It’s complicated.”

  His eyebrows lifted even higher, and his eyes drop. “Okay.”

  I’m not sure why, but his mild response makes me feel guilty. Like I shouldn’t be keeping secrets from him. It’s very annoying, and the discomfort is not like me at all.

  YOU CAN FIND OUT MORE about Purchased Husband here.

  About Noelle Adams

  NOELLE HANDWROTE HER first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she writes full time, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.

  She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances. For more information, please check out her website: noelle-adams.com.