Taming the Rebel Tycoon: Wife by Approval / Dating the Rebel Tycoon / The Playboy Takes a Wife

Taming the Rebel Tycoon: Wife by Approval / Dating the Rebel Tycoon / The Playboy Takes a Wife
Ally Blake

Crystal Green

Lee Wilkinson

WIFE BY APPROVALBillionaire Richard Anders needed Valentina to claim the Castle Anders. But playing the part of husband was proving a little too pleasurable. He had Valentina’s innocence and her word at the altar, but Richard knew some secrets needed to stay hidden…DATING THE REBEL TYCOONRosie knew she didn’t stand a chance with heart-throb and childhood crush Cameron Kelly, until years later they met again – on a date! There’s something different about the gorgeous billionaire – he’s darker, more intense, dangerous…and he wants her!THE PLAYBOY TAKES A WIFEPlayboy Lucas Chandler stunned New York society when he announced his sudden marriage to mysterious child-care worker Alicia. Then came the news that they’d adopted a little boy – is this Cinderella really as perfect as everyone thinks?

Taming the Rebel Tycoon

Wife by Approval

Lee Wilkinson

Dating the Rebel Tycoon

Ally Blake

The Playboy Takes a Wife

Crystal Green

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

Wife by Approval

LEE WILKINSON lives with her husband in a three-hundred-year-old stone cottage in a Derbyshire village, which most winters gets cut off by snow. They both enjoy travelling, and recently, joining forces with their daughter and son-in-law, spent a year going round the world ‘on a shoestring’ while their son looked after Kelly, their much loved German shepherd dog. Her hobbies are reading and gardening, and holding impromptu barbecues for her long-suffering family and friends.

contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

CHAPTER ONE

SEATED at her desk in her first-floor office, Valentina Dunbar was gazing absently through the rain-spattered window which overlooked Cartel Wines’s long, narrow car park and, beyond the high wall, the River Thames.

Dusk had begun to creep stealthily out of hiding and lights were coming on, gleaming on the dark water and glowing orange against the cloudy purple sky.

Most of the day staff tried to get away early on a Friday night and a steady stream of vehicles were already leaving the car park to join the London evening rush hour.

Responsible for organising the social gatherings and the informative literature that invariably accompanied Cartel Wines’s latest sales push, Tina was endeavouring to put the finishing touches to the pre-Christmas campaign. But for once she wasn’t giving the job her full attention.

It was Friday the thirteenth. A day that, for her at least, had lived up to its unlucky reputation.

First thing that morning she had slipped and hurt her ankle getting out of the shower. Gritting her teeth, she had been forced to stand on one leg while she had dried and dressed and taken her thick, silky hair, naturally blonde on top but with darker undertones, into a neat chignon.

By the time she’d finished, the pain had eased quite a bit and she was able to hobble into the living-room to get her toast and coffee.

Ruth, her friend and temporary flatmate, who was breakfasting in her dressing gown, looked up to ask, ‘Why are you limping?’

As Tina finished telling her, the phone rang.

‘I hope this is Jules,’ Ruth exclaimed eagerly, grabbing the receiver.

It was.

Her fiancé’s firm had transferred him to Paris for six months and she was missing him badly.

‘He’s coming to London for the weekend,’ she said after a minute or so, her elfin face full of excitement, her black hair standing up in spikes. ‘He’ll be arriving this afternoon and going back Monday morning.’

Then, apologetically, ‘By the way, he’s expecting to stay at the flat with me…’

The ‘flat’ was nothing more than a large bedsitter, which meant that Tina would have to make other arrangements for the three nights.

Her own flat was in a run-down Victorian house that the new owner had decided to have refurbished and modernized, and Ruth had offered her a put-you-up for the ten weeks or so that would elapse before she could move back in again.

‘Perhaps you could ask Lexi or Jo to give you a bed for the weekend?’ Ruth suggested.

‘I’ll think about it,’ Tina said non-committally. Then, seeing Ruth’s concerned expression and knowing she owed it to her friend, she added cheerfully, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get something fixed up. You just make sure you have a great time.’

‘I will,’ Ruth assured her as she went to shower and dress.

Both Lexi and Jo had resident boyfriends and, with no intention of playing gooseberry, Tina had already made up her mind to book into a hotel.

As soon as she had pushed a handful of underwear, a few changes of clothing and some necessities into a small case, she collected her shoulder bag and mac and, calling, ‘Have a good weekend…see you Monday,’ let herself out.

When she had descended the stairs with care, she crossed the foyer to check for mail. In Ruth’s pigeon-hole was a single redirected letter addressed to her, which she thrust unopened into her bag.

Until now the autumn weather had proved to be glorious, an Indian Summer of warm golden days and balmy nights. But today it was grey and chilly, a thin curtain of drizzle being blown along by a strong blustery wind.

She turned up the collar of her mac and, her ankle still a little painful, made her way to where her car was parked in the residents only space that belonged to the building.