Jennie Adams - The Boss's Convenient Bride

“Perhaps it’s time I told you exactly

whom I have in mind

for this relationship.”

Claire unconsciously straightened. “Please do.”

“You, Claire,” Nicholas said, “happen to be the only woman I can imagine filling the role of my wife.”

“You can?” She tried to clear the croak out of her throat. “Um, that is, you can?”

He nodded. “You keep a cool head. You look at things in a sensible manner. Business partnerships thrive on sensible, unemotional standards, and so will the kind of marriage I have in mind.”

From city girl—to corporate wife!

They’re working side by side, nine to five….

But no matter how hard these couples try to

keep their relationships strictly professional,

romance is undeniably on the agenda!

But will a date in the office diary lead to

an appointment at the altar?

Find out in this exciting miniseries.

If you love office romance stories—

BUSINESS-ARRANGEMENT BRIDE

by Jessica Hart

#3917

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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JENNIE ADAMS

From an early age, Australian author Jennie Adams was most at home perched on a gatepost on the family farm, with her nose in a book. Her love of reading expanded into writing at age eleven, when she began a four-year tenure as a very bad poet. A gap followed while Jennie pursued a number of careers. Bank officer, piano teacher and legal secretary to name a few. She met and married the love of her life, and had two children—who soon became teenagers who knew everything, and who are now the two most treasured young adults in her life. She then realized she wanted to write the romance novels she loved to read. The pursuit of that dream eventually led to the sale of her first Harlequin® novel, THE BOSS’S CONVENIENT BRIDE.

This is Jennie’s first novel!

Other Novel by Jennie

HER MILLIONAIRE BOSS #1835

For my cherished friend Bronwyn.

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

EPILOGUE

‘I’M THIRTY-TWO years old, and tired of being fêted and pursued as one of Sydney’s most eligible bachelors.’ Nicholas Monroe, millionaire owner and boss of Monroe Global Security Systems, leaned back in the leather desk chair and crossed his suit-clad arms.

His gaze was sharp, direct and controlled, save for a very mild hint of irritation Claire would have missed if she hadn’t come to know the enigmatic face so well in the past six months.

‘I can see how that could become wearying after a while.’ Claire’s imagination went into overdrive, conjuring situations he might have endured. ‘All those women jumping out from behind pot plants to accost you, telling you they want to have your babies—and all for the sake of your money, really. Not that I’m saying you aren’t appealing in your own right.’

She smoothed her chainstore pleated skirt across her knees, and hoped the pulse that beat at the base of her throat wasn’t visible beneath the crisp white blouse.

He was attractive, all right. Far beyond what was fair and reasonable in her opinion. All dark hair, tanned skin, and interesting angles to blend with the deep, velvety voice. He even smelled good, in a way that made her want to bury her face in him and just breathe him in for the next century or three.

The thought caused a familiar little catch in her chest, right about where her heart was located.

‘There haven’t been hordes of pot-plant-hiding females.’ His mouth curved. ‘But I’ve had my share of unwanted attention. And, contrary to what the media seems to believe, I really don’t enjoy having my name on every Top Ten Bachelor list in existence. Frankly, it’s an annoyance I could do without.’

‘Especially as you move into this new, more settled phase of life that you want.’

Claire hoped she looked and sounded intelligent, understanding, enlightened. Anything other than completely oblivious as to where he was headed with this conversation and wholly besotted by him into the bargain.

Aside from all the happy-fuzzy feeling he brought out in her, she struggled just to ignore the way his shirt stretched across his muscled chest. Which probably made her as bad as all those pot-plant-hiding women.

To have muscles like that, he had to work out regularly. She pictured him sleek with perspiration, doing bench presses in some trendy city gym, and stifled a groan.

‘Do you plan to announce a big change of lifestyle to the media in the hope it will get them off your back? Some actors take up an interest in monk-like religion for a while. Something like that would certainly prove a deterrent, since it would take you out of the running for a relationship.’

‘That’s an interesting option.’ The look he gave her suggested he might think she had rocks in her head. ‘I have to confess I hadn’t actually thought of taking to any kind of priesthood to solve this particular set of challenges, but thanks for the thought.’

‘I can’t imagine you celibate, myself,’ Claire blurted, then wondered if she should just bite her tongue off now and be done with it. Crushes did that to people. Made them say and do things they normally wouldn’t.

Much good it did her to have this crush, anyway. He wasn’t her type, and certainly wouldn’t be interested in her. Millionaire bosses didn’t fall for clerical pool upstarts. Not in the real world. No matter how gooey those upstarts might feel about their boss.

What had made Nicholas speak of personal things anyway, this fine January morning, ensconced in the opulent Sydney office suite overlooking the harbour? His life had been the key topic for the last five minutes. Plans, aspirations, intentions. All of them private, not business-related.

It made her uncomfortable. What had she to do with his desire to ‘settle his life, move on to a new phase’?

‘Are you really on every list?’

‘Every one.’ He gave a tight upward tilt of his firm lips. ‘Apparently there are others who can’t imagine me being happy alone, either.’

‘I guess it’s supposed to be kind of flattering, finding yourself on bachelor lists. Women who read those lists would want to…’ Spend hours making slow, languorous love with you. She coughed. ‘Get to know you better, I’m sure. If they had a chance. You know. Nice women. Ones who don’t hang around behind potted palm trees.’

Claire Dalgliesh. Shut up this minute. Before you stick your foot any further down your throat.

‘Perhaps you’re right.’ He smiled that killer smile that sent her insides crazy every time. ‘I can’t say I’ve ever given it a lot of thought.’