Nicola Marsh - Marrying the Enemy

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Jewellery designer and heiress Ruby Seaborn will do anything to save her family’s company from financial ruin. And she means anything.Including proposing a strictly-business marriage to diamond mine magnate Jax Maroney – the only man able to restore the Seaborn jewellery empire to its former glory! She needs his money, he needs her socialite credentials – it’s a win-win solution. And if they indulge in certain… fringe benefits of their marriage along the way, that’s fine.Because luckily Ruby’s heart is as unbreakable as the precious gems she works with… isn’t it?

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How far would you go to save your family business?

Jewelry designer and heiress Ruby Seaborn will do anything to save her family’s company from financial ruin. And she means anything.

Including proposing a strictly business marriage to diamond-mine magnate Jax Maroney—the only man able to restore the Seaborn jewelry empire to its former glory!

She needs his money; he needs her socialite credentials—it’s a win-win solution. And if they indulge in certain...fringe benefits of their marriage along the way, that’s fine. Because luckily Ruby’s heart is as unbreakable as the precious gems she works with...isn’t it?

“Okay, you want them to accept your business, and I want my family business to survive intact. Maybe we should brainstorm a solution to our problems?”

Jax’s frown deepened. “Why? As you pointed out, we barely know each other. Why the hell would I discuss my private business with you?”

Ruby stared at him, something tugging at the edge of her consciousness.

He’d used the word proposal again... What if they could nut out a proposal to benefit them both?

The idea shimmered and coalesced, detonating like an ill-timed bomb and she gasped.

“What’s wrong?”

She glanced at his left hand.

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Involved with anyone?”

His frown eased, that sexy grin back. “If this is your way of asking me out—”

“I’m not asking you out.”

She placed her palms against his chest, slid them across to his lapels and tugged him closer.

“I’m asking you to marry me.”

NICOLA MARSH has 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 content could be an epic in itself! These days, when she’s not enjoying life with her husband and son in her home city of Melbourne, she’s at her computer creating the romances she loves in her dream job. Visit Nicola’s website, www.nicolamarsh.com, for the latest news of her books.

Marrying the Enemy

Nicola Marsh

Marrying the Enemy - изображение 1 www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For my editor, Flo. Thanks for helping me polish this into a gem of a story.

(And for loving a good pun as much as I do!)

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

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

JAX MARONEY had traded clear outback skies for this.

The exclusive enclave of Armidale, home of Australia’s premier jewellers hosting Melbourne’s A-listers tonight, and he’d crashed the party.

Damn usurpers. They were more than rivals, they were the enemy. The enemy who’d deliberately ignored him tonight; who’d whispered and pointed and glared. The enemy he’d have to court to achieve his goal.

That irked. He didn’t give a damn what they thought of him personally but the fact he needed these people onside in the business arena...

Regret pinched his gut, tempered by an ever-present slow-burning anger against the one person who’d landed him in this predicament.

‘Careful. Next time the door opens and the wind blows in, your frown will stick.’

Surprised anyone had approached him considering his determined distance from the rent-a-crowd at this shindig, he glared at the smart-mouthed blonde, dripping with enough diamonds to keep his Western Australian mine in business for the next decade.

‘What’s it to you?’

She was undeterred by his surliness, her ruby-slicked lips curving into a teasing smile. ‘The launch of a Seaborn spring collection deserves champagne and caviar and exuberance.’

She pointed at his forehead. ‘That frown you’ve got going on? Doesn’t fit.’

‘Because most of the snobs here can’t move their Botox-ed brows anyway?’

His derisive stare swept the designer-clad, immaculately coiffed, moneyed crowd who shunned him for the sins of his father.

To his surprise, her smile widened. ‘You’re probably right but you should play nice.’

‘Why?’

‘Because the undercover security doesn’t take kindly to brusque, boorish types just standing back and surveying. They’ll think you’re a thief.’

Her brash glance swept him from head to foot and his gut inexplicably tightened.

When her defiant gaze met his, he swore he glimpsed heat. ‘On second thoughts, maybe not.’

Against his better judgement, he felt compelled to match wits with the intriguing blonde. He wasn’t used to people challenging him. In business or otherwise.

He liked his women transparent and uncomplicated. The bold blonde? Anything but.

He waved her away. ‘Shouldn’t you be mingling?’

‘Shouldn’t you be smiling?’

His mouth twitched and she raised a fist in victory. ‘There. Knew you could do it. Not so hard once you try.’

Nonplussed, he shook his head. ‘Who are you?’

She screwed up her nose and poked out her tongue in a mock scary expression.

‘Your worst nightmare, Happy Face.’

The laughter spilled from his lips, alien and odd sounding. When was the last time he’d laughed?

‘A mouth like that can get you into trouble.’ His gaze focused on her lips, the glossy sheen highlighting their fullness, their sensuality, and that surprising twinge in his gut moved lower.

She cocked a pretend gun with her thumb and forefinger and pulled the trigger. ‘I’m all for trouble.’

Impressed by her audacity, he decided to call her bluff.

‘Big statement, but can you deliver?’

With a nonchalant shrug, she turned away, leaving him with a tantalising view of bare skin to her waist where the emerald satin of her designer dress tied in an incongruous bow.

She took two steps, paused and glanced over her shoulder.

‘If you stick around after the launch, you might find out, if you’re lucky.’

She sashayed away, working her hips for his benefit, the satin clinging to a fine ass.

He’d given himself thirty minutes to show Melbourne’s high society he was back and there wasn’t one damn thing they could do about it.

Until the daring blonde had crashed his resentment party for one and dangled that tempting offer.

He didn’t want to be here any longer than he had to but sticking around now held a certain appeal.

* * *

Ruby grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, needing to hold something before she gave in to the urge to rip off the rare green diamond plaque de cou necklace and have a good scratch.

How her sister Sapphie did this on a regular basis, she had no idea.

The diamonds weighed a ton around her neck and she was sure her ear lobes had lengthened by an inch with the matching earrings dangling in a waterfall of sparkle.

While the crowd oohed and aahed, admiring the pieces she’d created especially for this collection, she had to curl her fingers into her palms to stop herself from scratching.

Her oversensitive skin beneath the jewels prickled. Wouldn’t the press have a field day with that: Ruby Seaborn, lapidary and creative genius behind the Seaborn’s latest spring collection, allergic to her own inventive masterpieces?

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