His Potential Wife

“That’s something you can arrange with Mrs. Caird. I’m sure she’ll have no objections as long as you clean up after yourself.”

“Thank you.” Willow turned away and started toward the door.

“Er…before you disappear again…there’s something I…need to know.”

Willow turned around, questioningly. But when she saw the evasive expression in his eyes, she felt a quiver of apprehension. Was he going to chastise her, now, for her immodest behavior that afternoon?

“Ye…es,” she said. “And what is that?”

“I need to…know…er…your measurements.”

“I don’t understand. What measurements?”

A vein throbbed at his right temple. “Do I need to spell it out?” He scowled at her. And dark color seeped into his cheeks. “The usual measurements, for heaven’s sake!”

“The…usual measurements?”

“The size, Ms. Tyler, of your waist, and your hips. And—” he looked as if he was going to choke on the words but finally he got them out “—the size of your breasts.”

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