The Ceo's Contract Bride

The Ceo's Contract Bride
Yvonne Lindsay

With her wedding nine days away, Gwen Jones's fianc&eacute suddenly disappeared, along with her bank account.Now, to save her home, she had to marry businessman Declan Knight–the man with whom she'd shared one torrid, mistaken night of passion. Declan also needed to marry in order to access his inheritance. So he agreed to Gwen's plan despite his previous vow to keep his hands off her.Yet now he had to convince his family their charade was for real. Which meant marching Gwen straight into his bedroom and surrendering his hard-earned control…

“We Have To Be Lovers.”

“We what?” Gwen growled. “No way. That’s so not part of the deal. We’ve been there and done that. It didn’t work then—it sure as hell won’t work now.”

“My father’s expecting to see a devoted couple.”

Gwen froze. She had a very bad feeling. “How devoted?”

“We have to convince him it’s a love match.”

“I can’t do it.”

“Look, let’s not forget what you get in all this. You’re not doing it out of love.” He’d dealt his trump card, and they both knew it. She’d do anything to keep her house. Anything. If that meant being Declan’s radiant, devoted bride, she had to agree.

“Okay, I’ll do it.” Her voice was reduced to a whisper.

“We’d better get some practice in, then.”

The CEO’s Contract Bride

Yvonne Lindsay

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

With heartfelt thanks beyond words, to my wonderful husband, children and family, for all your support and encouragement and for always standing by me and believing in my dream.

Dear Reader

When I was in primary school I met a girl who’d been “promised” to a young boy by her family. I remember being amazed that a marriage could be arranged when you were so young, and it was the fodder for many a daydream. Since then, I’ve always loved to read tales of arranged marriages and marriages of convenience, and I had a lot of fun writing this one, where I pushed together two people who really felt they ought to be apart.

The first version of this story won the Romance Writers of New Zealand 2004 Clendon Award. Back then Declan had a different name and was helping his brother out as a topless waiter when he met Gwen. The original idea came from my hairdresser who, together with a group of good friends, has ladies’ days that are catered by…you guessed it…hunky male topless waiters. Of course, that part of the story has now gone, but the incendiary attraction between Declan and Gwen still burns, as does, I hope, your enthusiasm for the Knight brothers. Watch out next for Mason and Helena’s story—available this March—for one more New Zealand Knight!

With very best wishes,

Yvonne Lindsay

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

Coming Next Month

One

“Six weeks until the tender closes, mate.”

Declan Knight leaned back his office chair and grimaced at his youngest brother’s words as they echoed down the telephone line. He shot an irritated glance at his Rolex—yeah, six weeks. He could count off the seconds he had left to find the finance he needed to pull this project off.

“Don’t remind me,” he growled.

“Hey, it isn’t my fault Mum put that stipulation in her will for our trust funds. Besides, who’d have thought you’d still be one of New Zealand’s most wanted bachelors?”

Declan remained silent. He sensed Connor’s instant discomfort over the crackling line.

“Dec? I’m sorry, mate.”

“Yeah, I know.” Declan interrupted swiftly before his brother could say another word. “I gotta move on.” Move on from the reality that he hadn’t been able to save Renata, his fiancée, when she’d needed him most. For a minute he allowed her face to swirl through his memory before fading away to where he kept the past locked down—locked down with his guilt.

“So, you want to go out tonight? Have a drink maybe? Show the Auckland nightspots how to have a really good time?” Connor’s voice brought him back instantly.

“Sorry, previous engagement.” Declan scowled into the mouthpiece.

“Well, don’t sound so excited about it. What’s the occasion?”

“Steve Crenshaw’s prewedding party.”

“You’re kidding, right? Watch-the-paint-dry Steve?”

“I wish I were kidding.” The pencil Declan had been twiddling through his fingers snapped—the two pieces falling unheeded to the floor. His staid and übercautious finance manager was marrying the one woman in the world who was a constant reminder of his failure, and his deepest betrayal—Renata’s oldest and dearest friend, Gwen Jones.

“Maybe you should ask him for some tips on how to find a wife.”

Declan’s lips tweaked into a reluctant smile as he heard the suppressed laughter in his brother’s voice. “I don’t think so,” he answered.