Allison Leigh - The Marriage Agenda

Together for the first time in one volume, two marriage of convenience stories from New York Times bestselling authors Christine Rimmer and Allison Leigh!

The Marriage Conspiracy

Joleen Tilly is facing every mother’s worst nightmare—a custody battle for her son, Sam. When Sam’s grandparents demand she turn over her son, Joleen turns to her best friend, Detective Dekker Smith, for comfort. Instead, he offers an astonishing solution: a most convenient marriage! But will Joleen be able to contain her growing love for her in-name-only husband?

The Billionaire’s Baby Plan

To save her family’s fertility clinic, Lisa Armstrong agrees to have venture capitalist Rourke Devlin’s baby. First, though, she has to become Mrs. Rourke Devlin! Rourke wants a family the old-fashioned way and marriage will give them both what they want. But their temporary arrangement blossoms into something much deeper and their agreement could be threatened.

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THE MARRIAGE CONSPIRACY The Marriage Conspiracy

About the Author A New York Times bestselling author, Christine Rimmer has written over ninety contemporary romances for Harlequin. Christine has won the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award and has been nominated six times for the RITA® Award. She lives in Oregon with her family. Visit Christine at christinerimmer.com . Look for more books from Christine Rimmer in Harlequin Special Edition—the ultimate destination for life, love and family! There are six new Harlequin Special Edition titles available every month. Check one out today!

Dedication For those who sought friendship and found lasting love.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

THE BILLIONAIRE’S BABY PLAN

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

A New York Times bestselling author, Christine Rimmer has written over ninety contemporary romances for Harlequin. Christine has won the RT Reviewers’ Choice Award and has been nominated six times for the RITA® Award. She lives in Oregon with her family. Visit Christine at christinerimmer.com.

Look for more books from Christine Rimmer in Harlequin Special Edition—the ultimate destination for life, love and family! There are six new Harlequin Special Edition titles available every month. Check one out today!

For those who sought friendship and found lasting love.

It was hot, without a hint of a breeze. Mid-October and it felt like the dog days of August. The wedding guests wandered beneath the sweet gums and pecan trees that shaded Camilla Tilly’s backyard, faces shining with sweat, sipping cold drinks in which the ice melted too soon.

Joleen Tilly, Camilla’s oldest daughter and sister to the bride, stood at the cake table from which she’d just shooed away three frosting-licking children. Joleen felt as if she was melting in her ankle-length rose-colored satin and lace bridesmaid’s gown.

And she couldn’t help suspecting that the cake was melting, too. The icing looked thinner, didn’t it, in a couple of places? The cake had five layers, each bordered with icing swags and accented with buttercream roses. Hadn’t the top four layers slid sideways the tiniest bit, wasn’t the whole thing leaning to the right, just a little?

Joleen shook her head—at the cake, at her own discomfort, at the whole situation. She had tried to convince her sister to rent a hall, but DeDe dug in her heels and announced that she’d always dreamed of getting married in Mama’s backyard. There was no budging DeDe once she dug in her heels.

So here they all were. Melting.

And way behind schedule. The ceremony was supposed to have started an hour ago. But Dekker Smith, the closest thing the Tilly sisters had to a big brother and the one who had promised to give DeDe away, had yet to arrive.

As Joleen stewed about the missing Dekker, about the cake, about the sweltering heat, her uncle Hubert Tilly wandered over, beer in hand. He stood beside her, leaned her way and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. “It’s about time we got this thing started, don’t you think?”

“Yes. And we will, Uncle Hubert. Real soon.”

“Good.” Her uncle lifted his beer to her in a toast. “Here’s to you, Joly. We all know it’s bound to be your turn next.” He threw back his big head and drank.

Joleen, who sometimes got a little tired of hearing how it would be “her turn next,” smiled resolutely and watched uncle Hubert’s Adam’s apple bounce up and down as he drained the can.

“Well, what do you know?” Uncle Hubert said when he was through guzzling. “It’s empty.” The can made groaning, cracking sounds as he crushed it in his beefy fist. “Better get another…” He headed off toward the coolers lined up against the garden shed. Joleen watched him go, hoping he wouldn’t get too drunk before the day was over.

She turned her attention to the cake again and decided that it should not sit out here in this heat for one minute longer. Her mother’s Colonial Revival house had been built in 1923. But thirty years ago, when her father bought it, one of the first things he’d done to it was to put in central heat and air.

She grabbed herself a couple of big, strong cousins—a Tilly, from her father’s side and a DuFrayne, from her mother’s. “Pick up that cake table,” she told them. “And do it carefully.”

The cousins lifted the table.

“Okay, good. This way…” Joleen backed toward the kitchen door slowly, patting the air with outstretched hands and speaking to her cousins in soothing tones. “Watch it…careful…that’s right.…” She opened the door for them and ushered them into the coolness of her mother’s kitchen. “Watch that step. Easy. Good.”

Once she’d closed the door behind them, she led them to the little section of wall on the far side of the breakfast nook. “Right here, out of the way. Just set it down easy.” The cousins put the table down.

Joleen let out a long, relieved sigh. “Perfect. Thank you, boys.”

“No problem,” said Burly, the DuFrayne cousin. His full name was Wilbur, but everyone had always called him Burly. “When’s this thing getting started, anyway?”

“Soon, real soon,” Joleen promised, thinking about Dekker again with a tightening in her tummy that was a little bit from irritation and a lot from worry.

Dekker had called yesterday afternoon and left a message on the machine at Joleen’s house. He said he wouldn’t make it for the rehearsal, after all, but that he’d be there in plenty of time for the wedding. Joleen wished she’d been home when he called. She would have gotten some specifics out of him—like a flight number and an arrival time, for starters.