Lucy King - The Best Man for the Job

All because of Marcus—because she wanted him. God, she wanted him. Had done for years, but had always thought it one-sided. Now, though, she knew it wasn’t. She could feel the attraction burning between them—fierce, mutual and utterly irresistible.

It had been so long since she’d had sex. Even longer since she’d had good sex. And with the amount of practice he’d had he’d be very good at it, she was sure.

She was under no illusions about what he was. She might have been wrong about some things, but she knew he enjoyed playing the field. She knew he didn’t do commitment, didn’t do long-term—which suited her fine because she didn’t want either from him. She just wanted to explore this sizzling chemistry, because for one thing it would undoubtedly give her proper closure and for another who was she to fight with such a force of nature?

‘Well?’ he said, and the tension radiating off him suggested that he was finding it as hard to cling on to his self-control as she was.

‘You know those scruples of yours?’ she said, her voice low and husky.

‘What about them?’

‘Do they include anything concerning friends’ younger sisters now?’

‘Nope.’

‘Good,’ she said as fire licked through the blood in her veins and her heart thundered wildly. ‘Then how about we finish what we started?’

Dear Reader

One of my favourite fictional relationships is that of Much Ado About Nothing ’s Beatrice and Benedick. Ah, the ‘merry war’, with its wicked banter, sharp wit and biting disdain that hides something so much more … What’s not to love?

So what do you get when you throw together an uptight workaholic who can’t stand gorgeous laid-back charmers and a gorgeous laid-back charmer who can’t stand uptight workaholics? Animosity! And when there’s enough chemistry to blow up a science lab …? Sparks! Throw in a botched attempt at seduction when they were in their teens and fifteen years of denial, and it turns into a whole lot of fun.

Well, not for Marcus and Celia, perhaps—*evil laugh*—but definitely for me to write, and I hope for you to read!

Lucy x

The Best Man

for the Job

Lucy King

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LUCY KINGspent her formative years lost in the world of Mills & Boon ®romance when she really ought to have been paying attention to her teachers. Up against sparkling heroines, gorgeous heroes and the magic of falling in love, trigonometry and absolute ablatives didn’t stand a chance.

But as she couldn’t live in a dream world for ever she eventually acquired a degree in languages and an eclectic collection of jobs. A stroll to the River Thames one Saturday morning led her to her very own hero. The minute she laid eyes on the hunky rower getting out of a boat, clad only in Lycra and carrying a three-metre oar as if it was a toothpick, she knew she’d met the man she was going to marry. Luckily the rower thought the same.

She will always be grateful to whatever it was that made her stop dithering and actually sit down to type Chapter One, because dreaming up her own sparkling heroines and gorgeous heroes is pretty much her idea of the perfect job.

Originally a Londoner, Lucy now lives in Spain, where she spends much of her time reading, failing to finish cryptic crosswords, and trying to convince herself that lying on the beach really is the best way to work.

Visit her at www.lucykingbooks.com

Other Modern Tempted™ titles by Lucy King:

ONE NIGHT WITH HER EX

THE REUNION LIE

This and other titles by Lucy King are available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

For my editor, Megan. Thank you for your always invaluable insight and advice!

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

Extract

ONE

Ten minutes after the vicar had pronounced her brother and his fiancée man and wife and the register had been signed, Celia Forrester stood on the steps of the altar of the pretty Shropshire church and braced herself for the moment she’d been dreading all day.

In terms of things she’d rather not do, on a scale of one to ten, going to the gym hovered at the two mark. Pulling an all-nighter at work ranked around a four. Dinner à deux with her father, an eight.

Having to take Marcus Black’s arm and walk down the aisle beside him, however, hit a ten.

Up until about a couple of hours ago she’d thought she’d escaped. As Dan’s best friend—and consequently, best man—Marcus had been expected some time yesterday afternoon, but to the consternation of everyone apart from her he hadn’t shown up. Her brother had muttered something about a missed flight and a possible arrival in time for the reception but, in all honesty, Celia had been too relieved to pay much attention.

All she’d been able to think was that she had a stay of execution and that, with any luck, by the time Marcus got there—if he got there at all—she’d have indulged in the gallon of champagne she needed to handle the horribly edgy and deeply uncomfortable effect he had on her, should she be unable to implement her customary plan A and avoid him.

She’d had no problem with following Lily—the other bridesmaid and Zoe’s sister—and her brand-new fiancé, Kit, down the aisle alone. She was good at doing things alone, and she’d been more than happy about the delay in having to talk to too-gorgeous-for-his-own-good, serial womaniser and general thorn in her side Marcus Black. Quite apart from the unsettling way he made her feel, he loathed her as much as she loathed him and no doubt he would be expressing it at the first available opportunity, namely the church, so who could blame her for savouring any delay to the moment?

But then a couple of hours ago, when the three of them had been sitting in the spare room of Zoe’s parents’ farmhouse with rollers in their hair and tacky nails, news had reached them that Marcus had made it after all, and just like that the Get-Out-of-Jail-Free-card feeling she’d been holding onto had blown up in her face.

The degree of shock and disappointment that had rocked through her had surprised her. Then her skin had started prickling, a rush of heat had swept through her and she’d instantly felt as though she were sitting on knives.

She’d managed to hide it, of course, because firstly she was used to hiding the way he made her feel, and secondly today was a happy one that was all about Dan and Zoe and not in the slightest bit about the trouble she had with Marcus, but it had been hard. Even harder when she and Lily had entered the church behind Zoe and she’d seen him standing next to Dan at the altar, looking tall, dark and smoulderingly gorgeous in his morning suit.

But she’d done it, and she’d continue to do so because fifty pairs of eyes were trained on the proceedings and so right now she didn’t have the option of giving him a cool nod and then blanking him. She was simply going to have to suck it up and accompany him down the aisle.

In approximately thirty seconds.

The organist began belting out Widor’s Toccata and as Dan and Zoe turned and stepped away from the altar, their smiles wide and unstoppable, Celia pulled her shoulders back and plastered a smile of her own to her face.