JENNIE LUCAS - Priceless - Bought for the Sicilian Billionaire's Bed / Bought - The Greek's Baby

“Sharon Kendrick transports readers to a fantasy land with rich, indulgent characters and an abundance of romance.”

— RT Book Reviews

“Once this entertaining tale begins, Lucas does a terrific job of keeping the reader off-balance right to the end.”

— RT Book Reviews on Bought: The Greek’s Baby

Sharon Kendrick

Jennie Lucas

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Sharon Kendrick

SHARON KENDRICKstarted story-telling at the age of eleven and has never really stopped. She likes to write fast-paced, feel-good romances with heroes who are so sexy they’ll make your toes curl!

Born in west London, she now lives in the beautiful city of Winchester—where she can see the cathedral from her window (but only if she stands on tip-toe). She has two children, Celia and Patrick, and her passions include music, books, cooking and eating—and drifting off into wonderful daydreams while she works out new plots!

Dear Reader,

When I started Bought for the Sicilian Billionaire’s Bed , I wanted an unlikely heroine. A poor but proud woman juggling two jobs in order to survive is someone that most people can identify with. And I wanted a powerful and provocative hero who would sizzle off the pages in the way that Sicilian men just do!

Sexy billionaire Salvatore Cardini has hordes of women in hot pursuit—plus some well-meaning friends who are always trying to marry him off. But Salvatore has no intention of marrying and he needs someone to masquerade as his girlfriend. He’s the last man you’d imagine dating his office cleaner, yet Jessica has something which appeals to him—not least her petite and curvy body!

I’m a sucker for a Cinderella story. The image of someone poor and downtrodden being whisked off her feet by a powerful man is an enduring fantasy for most women. I hope you enjoy reading this one.

And I’m delighted to be “twinned” with Jennie Lucas whose Bought: The Greek’s Baby is a crackling page-turner. Jennie writes with all the passion and pizzazz you expect from a Modern ™author—but with her own very distinctive voice. Her heroines are women you can identify with and her heroes are, well … hot !

Two fantastic stories in one volume. A bit of a wish come true.

Happy reading,

Sharon Kendrick

www.sharonkendrick.com

Twitter: @Sharon_Kendrick

To Janet, Barbara and Allen, with love.

‘MADONNA MIA!’

The words sounded as bitter as Sicilian lemons and as rich as its wine, but Jessica didn’t lift her head from her task. There was a whole floor to wash and the executive cloakroom still to clean before she could go home. And besides, looking at Salvatore was distracting. She swirled her mop over the floor. Much too distracting.

‘What is it with these women?’ Salvatore demanded heatedly, and his eyes narrowed when he saw he was getting no response from the shadowy figure in the corner. ‘Jessica?’

The question cracked out as sharply as if he had shot it from a gun—taut and harsh and unconditional—and Jessica raised her head to look at the man who had fired it at her, steeling herself against his undeniable attraction, though that was easier said than done.

Even she, with her scant experience of the opposite sex, recognised that men like this were few and far between, something which might account for his arrogance and his famous short temper. Salvatore Cardini—the figurehead of the powerful Cardini family. Dashing, dominant and the darling of just about every woman in London, if the gossip in the staff-room was to be believed.

‘Yes, sir?’ she said calmly, though it wasn’t easy when he had fixed her within the powerful and intimidating spotlight of his eyes.

‘Didn’t you realise I was talking to you?’

Jessica put her mop into the bucket of suds and swallowed. ‘Er, actually, no, I didn’t. I thought you were talking to yourself.’

He glowered at her. ‘I do not,’ he said icily, in his accented yet flawless English, ‘make a habit of talking to myself. I was expressing my anger—and if you had any degree of insight then you might have recognised that.’

And the subtext to that , Jessica supposed, was that if she possessed the kind of insight he was talking about, then she wouldn’t be doing such a lowly job as cleaning the floor of his office.

But in the past months since the influential owner of Cardini Industries had flown in from his native Sicily, Jessica had wisely learnt to adapt to the great man’s quirks of character. If Signor Cardini wished to talk to her, then she would let him talk away to his heart’s content. The floor would always get finished when he left for the night. You ignored the head of such a successful company at your peril!

‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Jessica said serenely. ‘Is there something I can help with?’

‘I doubt it.’ Moodily, Salvatore surveyed the computer screen. ‘I am invited to a business dinner tomorrow night.’

‘That’s nice.’

Turning his dark head away from the screen, he threw her a cool stare. ‘No, it is not nice ,’ he mocked. ‘Why do you English always describe things as nice ? It is necessary. It makes good business sense to socialise with these people.’

Jessica looked at him a little helplessly. ‘Then I’m afraid I don’t really see what the problem is.’

‘The problem is—’ Salvatore read the email again and his lips curved with disdain ‘—that the man I’m doing business with has a wife—a rather pushy wife, it would seem. And the wife has friends. Many friends. And …’ the words danced on the screen in front of him ‘“Amy is longing to meet you,”‘ he read. ‘“And so are her girlfriends—some of whom have to be seen to be believed! Don’t worry, Salvatore—we’ll have you engaged to an Englishwoman before the year is out!”’

‘Well, what’s wrong with that?’ asked Jessica shyly, even though a stupidly misplaced pang of jealousy ran through her.

Salvatore gave a snort of derision. ‘Why do people love to interfere?’ he demanded. ‘And why in Dio’s name do they think that I am in need of a wife?’

Jessica gave a helpless kind of shrug. She didn’t think he actually wanted an answer to this particular question and she rather hoped she didn’t have to give him one. Because what could she say? That she suspected people were trying to marry him off because he was rich and well connected as well as being outrageously good-looking.

And yet despite the head-turning quality of his looks she thought his face was rather ruthless and cold when you got up close. True, the full mouth was sensual, but it rarely smiled and there was something rather forbidding about the way he could fix you with a gaze which froze you to the spot. Yet somehow, looking the way Salvatore did, he could be forgiven almost anything. And he was.

She’d seen secretaries swoon and tea-ladies get flustered in his presence. She’d observed his powerful colleagues regard him with a certain kind of deferential awe and to allow him to call all the shots. And she’d watched simply because he was a joy to watch.