Leigh Michaels - The Boss's Daughter

Leigh Michaels has written almost seventy novels for Harlequin Romance®. Her sparkling, warmly emotional style has captivated readers around the world, and she has over thirty million books in print. Translated into more than twenty languages, her stories feature characters that women everywhere, from all nationalities, can relate to—and enjoy reading time and again!

For fresh, emotionally exhilarating novels, look out for Leigh Michaels!

Bride by Design (#3720)

Leigh loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at P.O. Box 935, Ottumwa, Iowa, 52501-0935, U.S.A. Or e-mail: leighmichael@franklin.lisco.net.

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3628—THE CORPORATE WIFE

3637—THE BRIDAL SWAP

3656—A CONVENIENT AFFAIR

3672—HIS TROPHY WIFE

3691—BACKWARDS HONEYMOON

From boardroom…to bride and groom!

A secret romance, a forbidden affair, a thrilling attraction?

Working side by side, nine to five—and beyond….

No matter how hard these couples try to keep their relationships strictly professional, romance is definitely on the agenda!

But will a date in the office diary lead to an appointment at the altar?

Find out in this exciting new miniseries from Harlequin Romance®.

A Professional Marriage (#3721)

by Jessica Steele

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

AMY hesitated outside her father’s hospital room. Then she took a deep breath and pushed the door open. No matter what Gavin Sherwood wanted to tell her, she knew that delaying wouldn’t make it any easier to take, so she might just as well get it over with.

Inside the room, she paused to look at the man lying propped up in the hospital bed, surrounded by high-tech equipment. There was less machinery now than there had been three days ago, when she’d seen him in the intensive care unit right after his heart attack. He was still very ill, there was no denying that. But his color was better, and he was no longer nearly as fragile-looking as he had been a few days before. He was going to make it.

So whatever Gavin had on his mind, Amy told herself, she would listen patiently and politely and then do precisely as she pleased. She wouldn’t exactly blow a raspberry at him, of course, no matter what he said—because he was still her father. But she wasn’t going to be manipulated into making any deathbed promises to a man who clearly wasn’t on his deathbed.

Gavin opened his eyes. “You finally got my message, I see.”

He sounded a little querulous, Amy thought, and his voice hadn’t yet regained all its power—or perhaps the feeble quaver was intentional.

Amy moved closer to the bedside. “Message? It sounded more like a summons to me.”

“Took you long enough to get here. Where have you been? Out all night?”

As if he has any right to ask. “No, I got up early and went out for a walk. What is it you want, Gavin?”

“It’s a bit involved, I’m afraid. Sit down, Amy.”

“No, thanks. I didn’t come for a leisurely chat, and I’d just as soon not be here when your fiancée gets back from the cafeteria or wherever she’s gone.”

“Honey went home for a while.”

Amy lifted an eyebrow. So she could rest, or so you could? she wanted to ask.

“This has been an ordeal for her.”

“She was obviously under a lot of stress the night you came into the hospital,” Amy agreed. In fact, she seemed to regard your illness as a great personal inconvenience.

“She’s very young,” Gavin Sherwood said quietly. “She’s never faced serious illness before in anybody she truly cares about.”

And perhaps she still hasn’t. Amy’s tongue was getting sore from biting it, but she knew better than to say what she thought. Her father was already quite aware that his soon-to-be trophy wife was a major thorn in his daughter’s side, so it was unnecessary—and hardly sporting—for Amy to take cheap shots at Honey’s expense. Even more important, if she kept criticizing Honey, her opposition would only drive Gavin into defending his choice, further deepening the chasm between father and daughter.

But as long as Honey wouldn’t be popping in at any moment, she might as well make herself comfortable, Amy decided, and pulled up a chair. “So what did you want to talk to me about? The message you left on my answering machine wasn’t exactly chatty.”

“The nurses were hanging around when I called. How’s the job hunt coming along?”

“Quite well, thanks. Which I could have told you on the phone. So why was it so important that I drive over here?”

Gavin’s fingers plucked at the sheet. “My doctor says I can be released from the hospital in a few days. But of course I’m still facing a long recovery. I won’t be able to do much for myself at first.”

“I’m sure Honey will make a terrific nurse,” Amy said firmly. “It’ll give her a preview of the real meaning of ‘for better or for worse.’ And she looks stunning in white.”

“That’s not what I’m concerned about. Of course she’ll be there for me.”

I hope you’re right, Amy wanted to say.

“It’s the auction house, you see. My doctor says I can’t go back to work for several weeks, so someone will have to step in, and of course you’re the obvious choice…” His voice trailed off as he looked up at her.

Amy was already shaking her head, and her voice was steady. “I don’t work there anymore, Gavin. Remember?”

“Officially you’re still on a leave of absence, you know.”

“I told you I quit, and I meant it. It was your choice not to accept my resignation.”

Gavin didn’t seem to hear her. “And if it hadn’t been for that silly misunderstanding, you would still be there. So it’s only sensible that you come back and—”

“Silly misunderstanding? I walked into your office and found you on the couch with Honey, and you call it a silly misunderstanding?”

“Of course you were upset, Amy.”

“Darn right I was. Remember? That was the first clue I had that you were planning to divorce my mother.”

“I know. And I truly wish you hadn’t found out that way.”

“That,” Amy said tersely, “makes two of us.”

“But to actually leave your job, to turn your back on the family business, over something like that…Honestly, Amy, now that you’ve had a chance to cool off and think it over, don’t you agree that you were being a little excessive?”

Amy considered. “Yes,” she said finally. “I was a little excessive. I should have gone back to my desk and written you a polite resignation letter instead of screaming ‘I quit!’ at the top of my lungs in the middle of the executive suite while Honey was still trying to get her sweater back on. My technique left a lot to be desired, I admit—put it down to the shock of the situation. But if you’re asking whether I have regrets over my decision—no, I don’t. After a display of that sort of bad judgment, I’d have trouble trusting any boss.”

Gavin looked at her shrewdly. “You can’t expect me to believe that you don’t miss the auction house.”

He was right about that, Amy conceded. She couldn’t honestly say that she didn’t miss Sherwood Auctions. She’d worked in her father’s business, in one capacity or another, ever since she could remember. Before she was a teenager, she’d been running errands, cleaning offices, watching the cloakroom. Later she’d moved up to writing catalog copy, spotting bids during auctions, and researching merchandise. And as soon as she had her degree she’d joined the full-time staff, though she’d still moved from department to department—taking a hand wherever she was needed.