Marriage By Deception. Sara Craven

Чтение книги онлайн.

      MILLS & BOON

       Before you start reading, why not sign up?

      Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

       SIGN ME UP!

      Or simply visit

      signup.millsandboon.co.uk

      Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

      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

       Endpage

      CHAPTER ONE

      SHE was late. Ten minutes late.

      Sam checked his watch, frowned, and poured some more mineral water into his glass.

      Perhaps she’d chickened out altogether. Well, he thought with a mental shrug, he couldn’t entirely blame her. A list of the places he’d rather be tonight would run to several pages, plus footnotes.

      He’d give her until eight-thirty, he decided abruptly, and if she hadn’t shown by then, he’d go home. After all, there were plenty of others on his schedule—and she hadn’t even been one of his choices for the short list either.

      ‘Lonely in London’, the ad in the Daily Clarion’s personal column had read. ‘Is there a girl out there who’s seriously interested in love and marriage? Could it be you?’ And a box number.

      As bait, it was well-nigh irresistible, and the replies had flooded in.

      He didn’t have a name for tonight’s lady. Her letter had merely been signed ‘Looking for Love’.

      She’d been picked because she’d described herself as a beauty executive, and seemed younger than most of the others. And, he suspected, because her envelope bore a Chelsea postmark.

      Which was why he was waiting here in the upmarket Marcellino’s, rather than some more ordinary trattoria or wine bar.

      He glanced restlessly towards the door out of the restaurant, flinching inwardly as he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall opposite. The cheap suit he was wearing was shining enthusiastically under the lights, his dark curling hair had been cut short and flattened on top with gel, so that it stuck out awkwardly at the sides, and gold-rimmed glasses adorned his nose.

      I look, he thought, a total nerd—only not as good.

      For a moment, the head waiter had hesitated over allowing him in. He’d seen it in the man’s eyes. It was something that had never happened to him before, and he would make damned sure it never happened again when all this was over, he vowed grimly. When his life eventually returned to normality.

      If it ever did, he amended, his mouth tightening. If he ever managed to escape from this mess of his own creation.

      As for his intended companion for the evening—if and when she turned up, she would probably take one look at him and run out screaming.

      He drank some more mineral water, repressing a grimace. What he really needed was a large Scotch, or some other form of Dutch courage. But the rules of engagement for tonight were strict. And he needed all his wits about him.

      He looked at his watch again. Fifteen more minutes, he thought, and then I’m out of here. And they can’t pass quickly enough.

      Rosamund Craig sat tensely in the corner of her cab. They seemed to have moved about fifty yards in the past fifteen minutes, and now the traffic ahead was blocked solid yet again.

      I should have set off earlier, she thought. Except that I had no intention of coming at all. There was no need. All I had to do was pick up the phone and it would all have been sorted. End of story.

      Now, here I am in a crawling cab with a galloping meter, going to meet a complete stranger. The whole thing is crazy. I’m crazy.

      And the dress she was wearing was part of the madness, she thought, furtively adjusting the brief Lycra skirt. Usually she avoided black, and trendy styles. Taupe was good—and beige—and grey in classic lines. Discreet elegance had always been her trademark. Not clinging mini-dresses and scarlet jackets.

      And these СКАЧАТЬ