No Wife Required!

No Wife Required!
Rebecca Winters

SIMPLY THE BESTShe wanted a husband…Lacey West's biological clock wasn't so much ticking as sounding alarm bells. And then Max Jarvis moved in to her apartment block. Six feet two inches of prime bachelor–the perfect male, except for one thing…He didn't need a wife!Max wasn't in the market for marriage. As far as he was concerned, a ring and a piece of paper didn't prove anything–his parents' disastrous marriage had taught him that. Added to which he seemed to think Lacey was just male bait, that she went through men like coffee. He'd accused her of being a temptation no man could resist…but, if that was the case, why wouldn't he give in?SIMPLY THE BEST."Rebecca Winters writes from the heart. She has the ability to make me laugh or…cry. Mostly she makes me care."–Debbie Macomber

“Since your mind is made up about me, there’s no point in prolonging this discussion.” (#ue5b25e26-d64e-5f7d-81c8-c188a25a7a6a)Letter to Reader (#ub0e43e57-eb30-5578-8160-54c002c9bdb1)Title Page (#u963da949-8e1c-5bce-9f82-bea1d2187ee5)Chapter One (#u56940fe2-ed1a-55fc-b881-2a150b296845)Chapter Two (#u67b661f2-899d-5e85-8bf4-519bf17ac886)Chapter Three (#u7e2dfca3-d8b2-503f-b50c-29ed23a05376)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

“Since your mind is made up about me, there’s no point in prolonging this discussion.”

“Why don’t you try and change it?” he murmured, his mouth achingly close to her ear.

Before she could catch her breath, his mouth closed over hers and he pulled her into his arms, as if he were starving for her.

“You taste of cocoa,” he whispered all too soon. “In fact, you taste of so many delectable things, guaranteed to drive a man to distraction. It’s no wonder they’re over here day and night.... But you seem to have all the men you can handle right now—” Max’s voice had an edge to it “—and I refuse to be part of a collection no matter how greatly I’m tempted.”

He grasped her chin and lifted it so that she’d have to look at him. “And believe me, lady. I’m tempted.”

Dear Reader,

Welcome to the next book in our exciting showcase series for 1997! Once again, we’re delighted to bring you a specially chosen story we know you’re going to enjoy, again and again...

Authors you’ll treasure, books you’ll want to keep!

This month’s recommended reading is No Wife Required! by award-winning and much-loved author Rebecca Winters. Our SIMPLY THE BEST title for November is Daniel and Daughter by Lucy Gordon.(#3480)

Happy reading!

No Wife Required!

Rebecca Winters

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

CHAPTER ONE

“HI, ALL of you listeners out there. Thanks for tuning in to a little Heart Talk with yours truly, Max Jarvis.

“Once again it’s time to settle back and get comfortable. Put your feet up, eat a little snack, and concentrate on your deepest feelings about love, romance, and the intriguing, mysterious relationship between men and women.

“You know... in this morning’s newspaper, there was an article that gave me a lot of food for thought. I’ve pondered it all day. According to a recent poll, seventy-six percent of the married women in Utah hold either part-time or full-time jobs in the workforce. The article went on to say that this figure was fairly typical of the percentage of married women working outside the home nationwide.

“I don’t know about you guys, but I feel kind of sad about that figure. The world can be a cold, cruel place for a soft, desirable, lovely woman. What do you suppose ever happened to the wife who stayed home to keep the love nest clean, cook delicious, wholesome meals, watch over the children while the husband was forced to leave the comfort of her arms to earn the living? What ever happened to the wife who used to greet her bruised and battered other half with a rejuvenating kiss and a hug at the end of a hard day?”

“That does it!” Lacey West muttered furiously beneath her breath, standing on her brakes after roaring into the parking stall of her sister and brother-in-law’s condo. While Valerie and Brad were away on business in the Far East, Lacey had agreed to house-sit their place.

As soon as she flicked off Radio Talk, she dashed into the condo, determined to phone the radio station and give Max Jarvis a piece of her mind. In his way, he was quite brilliant, but he’d only come from the West Coast two months ago and wasn’t a native Utahn. He didn’t understand the real story behind most local issues, which was almost as irritating as his outdated opinions about love expressed on his Heart Talk segment.

She hated to admit that he did have one redeeming quality however, it was a sexy voice. She was almost tempted to drop by the station to get a close look to see if the rest of him lived up to ‘The Voice’ as she’d secretly named him.

Lacey had a theory about voices. They were more important than faces. She could love or hate on the strength of a voice. And Max Jarvis’s voice definitely belonged on her special list along with Pavarotti and Timothy Dalton. Hundreds of new radio listeners attributed to his program had been lured by his voice. They just weren’t aware of its seductive quality.

Still, his outsider status rendered him invalid in Lacey’s eyes. He hadn’t a clue about the history behind the city’s school boundary disputes, the flooding cycle of the Great Salt Lake, or the attorney general quitting his post, midterm, to take a higher paying job in the workforce, irritating the voters who elected him.

As for his antiquated theories on marriage...

With the light of battle kindling her forest-green eyes, she let herself in the back door of the condo. George, the lovable, trained capuchin monkey she was tending for her psychologist friend, Lorraine, must have heard her put the key in the lock because he wrapped his arms around her legs when she walked in.

Lacey experienced a stab of positively maternal feeling as she patted his head. “I’ve missed you, too. Come on. Let’s eat. I’m starving.”

While she made a tossed salad and broiled a couple of lamb chops, she turned on the radio in the kitchen, then called the station on her cordless phone.

She must have tried a dozen times, but the male callers siding with Max Jarvis had jammed the lines. When she finally connected and was told to hold, there were only three minutes left before he went off the air for the night. She doubted she’d get on.

With George settled in the far corner of the kitchen to eat his greens and sunflower seeds, she put her food on the kitchen table and sat down to her own meal, the receiver still wedged between her ear and chin.

Finally she heard a click. “Hi, Lorraine. This is Max Jarvis.”

Lacey took a fortifying breath. Lorraine was the fake name she’d given his producer. For privacy’s sake, she never used her own name and picked a different one whenever she called in on a talk show.

“Yes, Mr. Jarvis, I know who you are.” The sarcasm oozed out of her.

“I don’t recognize your voice, Lorraine. You must be a first-time caller.”

His astute observation not only annoyed her, it caught her off guard. “How would you know that?”

“Because yours has a slightly husky quality I find rather unforgettable. I’m right about this being a first for you, aren’t I?”

Her jaw hardened. “As a matter of fact you are, where your show is concerned. I’ve called in dozens of times on other shows over the years.”

“You’ve made my day, Lorraine. The owner of the station loves it when I get a first-time caller. Unfortunately we’re almost out of time.”

“I’ll make this quick,” she asserted forcefully. “If you want to know what happened to the lovely wife working her nails to the bone at home while she waited for her beloved to return home after a hard day’s work...check with his little girlfriend in town.

“The one who didn’t have a clue he was married and hoped to become his wife, only to discover too late that the money he’d been spending wining and dining her was the money from his paycheck to support the family, thus forcing his wife to get out and earn a living she could count on!”

“Were you the wife or the girlfriend?” Max Jarvis insinuated in his deep, vibrant voice before she could catch her breath.

His question shot home like an arrow to the heart. Afraid to reveal any more, Lacey hung up the phone, still angry that Perry hadn’t told her he was a married man with children until after she’d fallen in love with him. Never again!

“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve just lost Lorraine. No doubt her personal story has struck a resounding chord in the breast of those legions of people who’ve lost trust in a loved one. A sign of the times? An explanation for the numbers of married women entering the workforce outside the home?

“We all commiserate with your loss, Lorraine. If you can ever bring yourself to talk about this again, call in and we’ll discuss it further. Until tomorrow at 3:00 p.m., this is Max Jarvis with Radio Talk. Have a good night.”

Hot-faced, Lacey got up from the table and turned off the radio. By now George had gone into the living room and was watching television.

Still fuming because everything Max Jarvis said tended to upset her, she cleaned up the kitchen, then gripped a bulging briefcase to get to work on the accounts for a client who’d opened an extension of his law firm in Idaho.

By ten o’clock she called it quits but didn’t have the heart to wake George and walk him to his basket in the kitchen. So she left him lying in front of the TV and went into the bathroom for a soak in the tub.

Maybe the running water wakened him because a few minutes later he suddenly ambled into the bathroom and climbed up on the hamper.