Nicola Marsh - Romance for Cynics

Lucy couldn’t tear her gaze away from Cash’s.

He didn’t look like a guy who was acting.

He looked as smitten as she was.

’You’d do anything for the cameras,’ she said, eager to break the unbearable tension between them.

He ducked his head to whisper in her ear. ’If that was you playacting, sweetheart, I’ll double your fee.’

She tossed her head. ’Okay. So we kissed. Big deal.’

’We’re attracted to each other.’ He ran a fingertip down her cheek. ’It’s not a crime to admit it.’

Lucy gritted her teeth. No way could she admit to wanting Cash.

The last thing she needed was to get involved in some weird half-assed relationship that had started out fake and yet involved very real sex.

Sex ? Yikes. She really was in trouble.

Dear Reader

Valentine’s Day can inspire mixed feelings in people.

If you’re part of a romantic couple the pressure’s on for your better half to impress with grand gestures.

If you’re single you harbour hopes that a secret admirer will finally declare his undying love while trying not to turn a pale shade of green as your BFF’s partner lavishes her with gifts and flowers.

For confirmed romance cynics like Lucy and Cash, Valentine’s Day can be summed up in a few words: over-commercialised claptrap for gullible fools!

So what happens when these two cynics must fake a relationship for a week in the lead-up to the big day?

Will true love win over the most hardened hearts?

I had so much fun having Lucy and Cash deal with a variety of romantic situations designed to taunt and challenge.

The outcome?

This confirmed romantic is not telling.

You’ll need to read the book to find out!

Happy reading!

Nicola

www.nicolamarsh.com

Romance

for Cynics

Nicola Marsh

www.millsandboon.co.uk

NICOLA MARSHhas always had a passion for writing and reading. As a youngster she devoured books when she should have been sleeping, and later kept a diary whose contents could be an epic in itself!

These days, when she’s not enjoying life with her husband and sons in her home city of Melbourne, she’s at her computer, creating the romances she loves in her dream job.

Visit Nicola’s website at www.nicolamarsh.com for the latest news of her books.

This and other titles by Nicola Marsh are available in eBook format at www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This one is for my dedicated readers and fellow romantics who believe true love will always triumph.

May all your happily-ever-afters be a heartbeat away.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Epilogue

Excerpt

ONE

‘This is a screw-up of monumental proportions.’ Cashel Burgess flung the daily newspaper on his desk and glared at the offending print.

Maybe if he stared at it hard enough this whole damn mess would disappear.

As if.

‘That’ll teach you for dating beautiful bimbos.’ Barton Clegg, an old college buddy who had the power to get him out of this godforsaken mess, pointed at the picture in the paper. ‘She’s a stunner all right, but Cash?’ Barton made a gesture resembling grabbing him by the balls and twisting. ‘She’s got you by these, mate.’

‘Tell me something I don’t know.’ Cash pushed away from his desk, stood and resumed pacing, something he’d been doing way too much of since he’d learned the starlet he’d given financial advice to over a long lunch was concocting some twisted version of what had happened between the veal scaloppini and tiramisu.

‘Why did you call me over?’

‘Damage control.’ Cash stopped pacing and stabbed a finger at the paper. ‘You know I lost a packet when that overseas bank went under. And now this. If I lose clients over some slighted woman’s concocted BS...’ Cash shook his head. ‘The PR firm you work for is the best in the business. I need you to boost my profile to overshadow this crap.’

He turned the newspaper over before he did something crazy. Like stab a letter opener through the woman’s heart.

Bart shook his head. ‘We’re not taking on new clients at the moment, you know that.’

Cash frowned and stared down his soon-to-be former best friend. ‘You owe me after I got your ass out of trouble the night the dean bailed you up following that butt-out-the-back-window-of-the-uni-bus prank.’

Bart grinned like a goofball. ‘Those were the days.’

Cash rolled his eyes. ‘You’re a putz.’

‘A putz that’s going to get you out of a fix, apparently.’ Bart swivelled on the ergonomic chair. ‘I can put in a good word for you but it won’t do any good...’

A frown momentarily creased Bart’s brow before he snapped his fingers and leaped from the chair. ‘There is a way the firm can take you on. Guaranteed.’

Relieved he’d found a way out of this mess, Cash nodded. ‘Whatever it is, I’ll do it.’

A knowing grin spread across his friend’s face. ‘Sure?’

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Cash perched on the edge of his desk. ‘As you so delicately implied, that woman has my balls in a vice, so yeah, I’ll do anything.’

‘Fine. Then all you need to do is find yourself a girlfriend for a week.’

‘What the—?’

‘The firm’s running a massive fundraiser in the lead up to Valentine’s Day. A week-long love-in, where couples do a bunch of mushy stuff together, get filmed, soundbites get posted on the firm’s website and people vote for the most romantic couple.’ Bart’s smug grin widened. ‘You wanted positive PR. What could be better than raising a stack of cash for a good cause while being viewed by millions? Oh, and make sure your girlfriend is clean and wholesome, the opposite of your usual arm candy.’

Speechless, Cash gaped at his friend. ‘Are you freaking crazy? Where the hell do I find a girlfriend for a week?’

Bart waved away his concern. ‘Minor details.’ He strolled towards the massive French windows overlooking the sprawling lawn of Cash’s Williamstown mansion. ‘I’m sure you’ll figure something out.’

Cash’s fingers curled into fists. This couldn’t be happening. Bad enough he’d lost a bundle after following a bad investment tip from one of the best in the business, an old college mentor.

But having some scorned woman spreading gossip and innuendo about him because he’d knocked her back? That was something else. She was damaging his reputation in an industry where reputation was everything.

He gave financial advice to the stars. Australia’s elite actors and musicians came to him when they wanted to invest their money. And he’d built a considerable fortune from it.

He liked money. Liked the comfort derived from seeing cold, hard cash accumulate in the bank, providing security and reliability. Two things he’d never had growing up.