Leigh Michaels - The Corporate Marriage Campaign

She hadn’t expected that question to come up, not where Trey was concerned. This was a business proposition, pure and simple, and feelings shouldn’t have come into it at all. But now that the line had been crossed between business and emotion…she had to admit she wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling. She was irritated at him for taking advantage of the situation, that was for sure. Intrigued by what on earth his reasons could be. Fascinated at what he might be plotting. Annoyed at…

Time was what she needed, to sort everything out in her head and decide what to do. Time to think about the situation, and about what she wanted, and about Trey.

Especially about Trey, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Darcy did her best to ignore it.

From city girl—to corporate wife!

Working side by side, nine to five—and beyond….

No matter how hard these couples try to keep their relationships strictly professional, romance is definitely on the agenda!

But will a date in the office diary lead to an appointment at the altar?

Contracted: Corporate Wife by Jessica Hart, Harlequin Romance #3861

Leigh Michaels wrote her first book when she was fourteen and thought she knew everything. Now she’s a good bit older, and wise enough to realize that she’ll never know everything. She has written more than 75 romance novels, teaches writing in person and online, and enjoys long walks, miniatures and watching wild deer and turkey from her living room.

Leigh loves to hear from readers. You may contact her at: P.O. Box 935, Ottumwa, Iowa 52501, U.S.A. or visit her Web site: leigh@leighmichaels.com

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE ®

3815—THE HUSBAND SWEEPSTAKE

3836—ASSIGNMENT: TWINS

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

THE sound of a key clicking in the lock roused Darcy just enough to make her moan and turn over, but not enough to make her aware of where she was—which was why, when Dave came through the front door a few seconds later, she was sprawled on the carpet next to the couch she’d just fallen from.

Dave stopped dead, his briefcase still swinging. “What are you doing down here?”

Darcy rubbed her neck. “Sleeping, apparently.”

“Was it too stuffy for you upstairs last night? Maybe we need to put an air conditioner in.”

“As far as I know, it’s fine. I haven’t been up there.”

Dave raised an eyebrow. “Are you nursing a hangover?”

“No, David—not unless they’ve started putting something alcoholic into tea bags.” Darcy pushed herself up into a sitting position against the front of Mrs. Cusack’s desk. It was plenty solid enough to lean against; there was no chance that the massive desk would slide out from behind her. “I finished up a dozen job applications—they’re right there, all ready to mail—and the last thing I remember, I sat down for a minute on the couch to admire the stack. I must have been more tired than I thought.”

“How late were you up?”

Darcy shrugged. “I remember noticing 3:00 a.m., but I was still making copies then so it must have been a lot later when I actually crashed.” She gave an enormous yawn and grumbled, “This isn’t fair, you know. If I’m going to wake up with the same symptoms as a hangover, I should at least have the fun of a party to remember. I’m going to bed.”

“Uh, Darcy…”

“I don’t like the sound of that, Dave.”

“Mrs. Cusack called me at home this morning. She isn’t going to be coming in today, so I wondered if you could fill in.”

“Again? I suppose her sinuses are still acting up.”

“I told her it would be all right, because you’d be here. Sorry.”

“Does it appear to you that ever since I came back to town, your secretary has gotten into the habit of calling in sick a couple of times a week? That’s not a complaint, by the way, just a comment.”

“She thinks you’re taking advantage of me, living rent free in the penthouse.”

The penthouse. It was Darcy herself who had named it that, back when Dave had bought the little cottage to house his fledgling law practice and moved into the half-finished attic in order to ease the strain on his finances. She hadn’t expected then that she’d ever be living there herself, even temporarily.

“Well, it’s not exactly the Ritz—but whatever Mrs. Cusack thinks, I appreciate having the accommodations.” Darcy shook her head, trying to clear it. “And I’m happy to lend a hand. I’ll pull myself together here in a minute, but some coffee would sure help.”

“I’ll start a pot.”

“Well, go easy on it. The battery acid you call coffee—”

“It’s guaranteed to wake you up.”

“David, your coffee would wake up a corpse. Do I have time for a shower? Not that you want me greeting clients without one, after I worked most of the night.”

Dave checked his wristwatch. “I’m not expecting anybody for an hour or so. If you like, I’ll make sure the hot water runs out before then so you won’t be walking through the waiting room wearing a towel.”

“That’s such a comfort. So generous of you to help me out.” Darcy pushed herself up from the floor and headed across the minuscule hallway to the cottage’s single bathroom. “Though the way I feel at the moment, a cold shower might be a better idea.”

She stayed under the spray as long as she dared, then wrapped her hair in a towel and slid reluctantly back into her sweats. Where was her brain, anyway, that she hadn’t run upstairs for some fresh clothes before she stripped off?

It was going to be another long day, she reflected. But with her applications finished, she really had nothing else to do but mail them and start assembling the next list of potential jobs. Staying busy with Dave’s clients and paperwork was better than having too much time to think about her own situation, anyway.

And it felt good to be able to help Dave out a bit in return for all he was doing for her right now. The penthouse might not quite match up to its grandiose name, but it was a place to sleep and store her stuff till she got herself established again. And since he’d refused to even consider charging her rent, the least she could do was pitch in around the office. Once this was over—as soon as she had a job again, and her own place, and a bank account—she’d do something really nice for Dave…

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she had walked halfway through the waiting room toward the stairs before she realized that a man and a woman were standing in the center of the room, looking around as if they felt lost.

Had she been in the shower that long? Surely not, because Dave hadn’t been kidding about the hot water supply. So either his clients had arrived far earlier than their appointment, or this was an unexpected addition to his day. Did he even realize they were here? If they’d just walked in, and he hadn’t heard the door…

“Hi,” she said. “Can I help you?”