Part-Time Wife. Susan Mallery

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       She’d gotten emotionally involved with Craig and his sons.

      Jill knew better, but she’d done it anyway.

      She’d wanted it to be real. All of it. Craig’s affection. And the boys’ feelings, too. She liked taking care of them. She liked being the one they confessed their secrets to, the one they ran to when they were hurting.

      After years of being lonely, her heart had responded to the love between the boys and their father. She’d wanted a piece of that for herself. Was that so wrong?

      Jill knew the answer. Of course it was.

      Because it wasn’t real.

      She was, after all, just the hired help.

      Wasn’t she?

       Part-Time Wife

      Susan Mallery

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MILLS & BOON

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      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Copy

       Title Page

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Extract

       ABOUT THE AUTHOR

       Copyright

      At the exact moment the hot water kicked on in the shower, the doorbell rang. Jill Bradford leaned her forehead against the ceramic tile and gritted her teeth. Timing. Life was all about timing and hers was usually bad.

      Or maybe it was this house, she thought, grabbing her robe with one hand while she turned off the water with the other. Maybe there was a little light that ran from the bathroom to the front of the building so that every time she tried to take a shower, it went on. People saw the light and knew it was time to come calling. Yesterday it had been young girls selling cookies. Two days ago, someone selling magazine subscriptions.

      The bell rang again, and Jill hurried down the hall. She had the fleeting thought that she could not bother with her robe and could simply flash whoever was rude enough to interrupt her shower, but decided against the idea. The way her luck was running, there would be a cop on the other side of the door and she would be arrested.

      She reached the front door just as the visitor pressed the bell again. This time the long tone sounded impatient. Jill raised herself up on her toes and stared out the tiny peephole that had obviously been designed by and for the tall people of the world. She stared at the distorted image and gasped.

      A cop?

      Barely pausing long enough to secure the tie on her robe, she turned the key to release the dead bolt and jerked open the door. “Yes?”

      “Ms. Jill Bradford?”

      “Yes.”

      “I’m Craig Haynes.”

      The police officer paused as if the name was supposed to mean something. Jill stared at him and blinked. It didn’t mean a thing to her. She studied the man. He was tall. Too tall for her comfort. She had to crane her head back to see his face. But it was worth the crick in her neck, she decided, taking in curly dark hair, brown eyes and features handsome enough to grace a male model. She inspected the shape of his mouth and the stubborn set of his chin. She didn’t have a perfect memory but she was reasonably confident she would have remembered someone who looked as good as he did.

      Her gaze slipped down his chest. The black short-sleeved shirt of his uniform outlined his well-muscled body. He had the build of an athlete. Impressive. Very impressive. Even to someone who had sworn off men and relationships.

      “I’m sorry, Officer Haynes,” she said, returning her attention to his face. “I don’t know who you are.”

      The faint hints of gray at his temples were the only clue he wasn’t as young as he appeared. He didn’t look thirty, but she would guess he was several years older than that.

      He

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