Jessica Steele: Falling for her Convenient Husband

‘So tell me about this new Phelix Bradbury.’

‘There’s not a lot to tell,’ she replied. ‘I worked hard—and here I am.’

‘And that covers the last eight years?’ Nathan queried sceptically.

He halted, and she halted with him, and all at once they were facing each other, looking into each other’s eyes. And her heart suddenly started to go all fluttery, so that she had to turn from him to get herself together. She supposed she had always known that this—‘the day of reckoning’—would come.

She took a deep breath as she recognised that day was here.

Get ready to be swept off your feet by perfect English gentlemen!

Mills & Boon ®Romance brings you another fabulous, heart-warming read by bestselling author

Jessica Steele

Jessica’s classic love stories will whisk you into a world of pure romantic excitement…

Praise for the author:

‘…Jessica Steele pens an unforgettable talefilled with vivid, lively characters, fabulous dialogueand a touching conflict.’—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

Jessica Steelelives in the county of Worcestershire, with her super husband, Peter, and their gorgeous Staffordshire bull terrier, Florence. Any spare time is spent enjoying her three main hobbies: reading espionage novels, gardening (she has a great love of flowers), and playing golf. Any time left over is celebrated with her fourth hobby: shopping. Jessica has a sister and two brothers, and they all, with their spouses, often go on golfing holidays together. Having travelled to various places on the globe, researching backgrounds for her stories, there are many countries that she would like to revisit. Her most recent trip abroad was to Portugal, where she stayed in a lovely hotel, close to her all-time favourite golf course. Jessica had no idea of being a writer until one day Peter suggested she write a book. So she did. She has now written over eighty novels.

BY

JESSICA STEELE

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CHAPTER ONE

PHELIX had not wanted to come. Oh, she loved Switzerland, but her previous visits had always been in winter when the skiing was good.

Yet now it was September and, apart from the remains of winter’s snow on some of the highest peaks, there was no snow. In fact the weather was sunny and beautiful. And here she was in Davos Platz, having arrived last night—and still feeling very annoyed because, in her view, there was no earthly reason for her to be there.

It was ‘business’ her father said. What business? She was a corporate lawyer working for Edward Bradbury Systems, her father’s company. But she could not for the life of her see why any lawyer, corporate of otherwise, would need to attend a week-long scientific, electronic, electrical and mechanical engineering conference!

‘I can’t see why I have to go,’ she had protested when her father had informed her of the arrangements he had made.

‘Because I say so!’ Edward Bradbury had replied harshly.

At one time she would have accepted that. Would have had to accept it, she knew. But not any longer. Not blindly, and certainly not without question. In the past she had been forced to accept every edict her control-freak father uttered. But not now. So, ‘Why?’ she challenged. It had taken a long while for her to get where she was, to get to be the person she now was. There was nothing left now of the weak and pathetic creature she had been eight years ago. ‘If it’s work related, I could understand a need. But for me to spend a week in Switzerland with a load of scientists who—’

‘Networking!’ Edward Bradbury chopped her off, but unbent sufficiently to explain that there had been whispers for some while that JEPC Holdings, one of the biggest names in the industry, were about to outsource a vast amount of their engineering. He had now, personally, along with the top brass from other competing companies, been invited to make the same Swiss trip next week, when the top men from JEPC would be flying in for a round of exploratory talks, give a general outline, and chat with the various highest of executives. ‘It will mean millions to whichever company gets the contract,’ he stated, money signs flashing in his eyes. Phelix still did not see, since as yet there was not a sign of any contract, why she had to go. ‘I’m sending Ward and Watson with you. I want you all to keep an ear to the ground; listen for anything else going on that I need to know about.’

Duncan Ward and Christopher Watson were both scientists and wizards when it came to electronics. But Phelix doubted that there would be anything going on apart from a load of boring old speeches. It made her feel a little better, though, that the two scientists, both men she liked, would be there too.

‘I’ve booked you into one of the very best hotels,’ her father stated—as if that was an inducement!

‘Duncan Ward and Chris Watson too?’ she asked.

‘Of course,’ he replied stiffly. And that, as far as he was concerned, was that.

It was not that, as far as Phelix was concerned. The very next day she went to see Henry Scott, her friend and mentor, and who was also the company’s most senior corporate lawyer. Henry was nearing sixty and, through their various conversations over the years, she had learned he had been a very good friend to her mother.

He must have been an excellent friend, Phelix had long since realised. Because it had been Henry that her mother had called on the night she had died. The night she had taken all the cruelty she could take from her domineering husband and had attempted to run away from him.

Phelix’s thoughts drifted back to that dreadful time. Back to that awful night. It had been a foul night when, pausing only to make that phone call and to throw some clothes on, Felicity Bradbury had fled her home. When she pieced everything together afterwards, Phelix thought that her mother must have seen car headlights coming towards her in the storm thrashing about overhead, and had run out into the road in the blinding rain. It had not been Henry, and the car driver had stood no chance of not hitting her. Henry had been held up by a tree that had crashed over in the storm and which had blocked the road. By the time he had found another route and reached her home, he had been acquainted with the news he had arrived too late. The police had waved him on.

But while he had not been in time to help Felicity, he had made sure that her daughter would not ask for his help in vain.

It had been Henry who, almost eight years ago now, had aided Phelix when she had decided that she wanted a career of some sort. He had taken her seriously to suggest, ‘Being a corporate lawyer is really not as dull as it may sound.’

‘You think I could become a lawyer?’ she’d asked, for one of the few times in her listless life feeling a surge of excitement at the thought.

‘I know you could—if that is what you want. You’re bright, Phelix. It will mean a tremendous amount of hard work, but we’ll get you there, if indeed law is what you fancy doing.’