Page 7 of Fairy Tale Husband

She shook her head. “I need my husband living with me in New York.” Her mouth tilted into a rueful smile. “This isn’t going to work, is it?”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Thanks anyway.” She offered her hand again. “And thanks for helping me through this. It should be easier from here on out.” With that cryptic remark, she disappeared into the crowd.

“Wasn’t she right for you?” a friendly voice questioned from behind.

He turned and glanced down, both intrigued and irritated to discover that his elf had reappeared. “I thought I got rid of you earlier.”

She shrugged, the graceful movement drawing his attention to the fine, sculpted lines of her neck and shoulders. Her short, layered hairstyle further emphasized the most exquisite bone structure he’d seen in a long time. She reminded him of a thoroughbred, lean and delicate and fluid.

“I’m hard to get rid of,” she replied, not in the least offended by his gruff comment. “I’m persistent.”

A small smile eased the corners of his mouth. “Annoying.”

“Tenacious.”

“Pesky.”

“Determined.”

“Clingy.”

She laughed up at him. “In that case, I’ll grow on you.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” he muttered wryly.

Tilting her head to one side, she gave him a sympathetic look. “Not having any luck?”

“Not much. How about you?”

“Oh, Ihaven’t given up, yet. These things take time.”

He grimaced. “Something we’re fast running out of.”

“Unfortunately.”

She brushed a lock of hair from her eyes and peeked up at him. To his amusement, the look held a contradictory element of both caution and daring, and he folded his arms across his chest. “Spit it out, munchkin. What do you want?”

She took a deep breath and offered an engaging smile. “I don’t believe we’ve introduced ourselves. I’m Wynne Sommers.”

The name suited its owner. They each had a fey, almost arcane feel about them. “Jake Hondo,” he replied with notable reluctance.

“Are you hungry?” she asked. “I’m starved. Why don’t we visit the buffet table and you can tell me what it is you expect in a wife.”

“We’ve already covered that ground,” he said, ahard edge invading his tone. “I want a temporary arrangement. You want permanent.”

“I prefer permanent,” she said, correcting him. “But I’m willing to compromise.”

His eyes narrowed. “I want someone who’s not afraid of hard work. You’d blow away in the first gust of wind.”

“Oh, I’m not that easy to blow away. And as for hard work...” She held out her hands, palms up. They were marred by calluses, the skin red and chapped. “I know my way around a bucket of soapy water.”

He gritted his teeth to prevent an exclamation of fury. She shouldn’t have hands like that. They should be like the redhead’s hands, silky and white and pampered. He eyed her with a frown. His elf worked hard for a living. Is that why she’d come? To escape a life of drudgery?

“You want a gentle warrior,” he reminded. “And I’m not even close to gentle.”

She tossed him a gamine-like grin. “Aren’t you?”

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