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The Wrong Kind of Wife

The Wrong Kind of Wife

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Published by Tj6093
The Wrong kind of wife
The Wrong kind of wife

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Published by: Tj6093 on Sep 21, 2013
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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‘I stopped being interested in him years ago.’ 
Lindsey and Tim Ramsden were married - but only in name these days. Their once passionate relationship hadn’t survived a bitter misunderstanding, followed by a lengthy separation with the Atlantic between them. Now they met again. Was it possible to recapturethe love they had shared? Or should Lindsey accept that what she felt for Tim was over and it was time to move on?
Roberta Leigh
is a workaholic, but loves every minute of it! How else could she have produced 150 romances, been columnist on anational newspaper, written 27 children’s books and created and produced 247 films for children? But romantic fiction has a special placein her life, and she was one of the first writers to introduce strong, career-minded heroines who wouldn’t be bossed around by the hero!She lives in London, loves children, dogs and cats and, since the death of her husband, finds her romance in the books she loves writing.
The Wrong Kind Of Wife
Harlequin Mills & Boon
First published in Great Britain 1994Australian copyright 1994 New Zealand copyright 1994Philippine copyright 1994© Roberta Leigh 1994ISBN 0 73350 041 2
As LINDSEY handed over her charge card at the supermarket checkout, her thoughts were notcentred on the bill but on how she was going to tell her husband she had to go to Paris again. It wasthe second time this month, and Tim had barely got over his annoyance at her last trip.It wasn’t as if she enjoyed going, but travelling to interview celebrities was part of her job as atelevision researcher, and if she wished to further her career there was no way she could refuse.Because of this she had just splashed out on an expensive bottle of wine, instead of the usual plonk, toaccompany tonight’s meal. Tim would appreciate it, and hopefully would be in a better humour whenshe broke the news.Balancing the carrier bags in one hand, she unlocked the front door with the other. A smell of  burning fat greeted her and she sighed. Tim was cooking again!Hurrying into a kitchen so tiny one couldn’t swing a cat in it, she saw him in the act of pouring asoggy black mess down the drain.‘Hello, sweetheart,’ he greeted her, one hand raking back the errant lock of blond hair that wasalways falling across his forehead. ‘I thought I’d make the supper for a change, but I guess I misreadthe recipe!’‘I wish you’d leave the cooking to me,’ Lindsey retorted. She was tired, cold and hungry, andher temper was at flash-point. With an effort she controlled it and moved towards the sink. ‘Fix me adrink, darling, and I’ll clean up,’ she said more gently.‘Let’s have dinner out,’ Tim said, putting his arms around her.As always, his touch excited her, even though she found his suggestion irritating. Had heforgotten they were supposed to be economising?‘I’ve bought a stack of food,’ she pointed out.‘It won’t go to waste. Come on, sweetheart, it will do you good to relax.’‘I can relax better here. I’ve been out with a questionnaire the whole day.’Tim frowned. ‘I hate the thought of you tramping round the freezing streets while I sit in a warmoffice doing nothing.’‘Don’t be silly. I’m only “tramping the streets” until I’ve finished my survey. And you don’t donothing all day—you work damned hard.’‘As dogsbody to a drunk! Beats me why Turlow hasn’t been fired.’‘He’s considered an institution,’ Lindsey said drily. ‘Though I heard a whisper that he’ll bethrough in a year. And if you play your cards carefully—’‘I still won’t get his job. I haven’t enough experience to be political correspondent on a nationaldaily.’‘Turlow wouldn’t have chosen you as his assistant if he didn’t think you capable of taking over from him. What’s happened to your confidence? If you—’Tim’s mouth on hers silenced her, and though she was still cold and tired she responded to histouch.‘How hungry
you?’ He nuzzled his face in her neck and breathed in the scent of her.‘For food, or—?’‘For or.’‘Getting hungrier by the second,’ she murmured, relaxing as he swung her into his arms andcarried her into the bedroom, the one place where they were assured of perfect harmony.Their coming together was quick and intense, expressing the fierce need they still aroused in

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