Bride under contract, p.1
Bride Under Contract, page 1
“What if I suggested we marry?”
Grace laughed again, only this time she rolled her eyes.
“I’m completely serious,” Carter insisted.
“I am not getting married because of some obscure clause in your grandfather’s will.”
“What if I offered you two million dollars?”
“Yes please!” She immediately laughed, but then she must have seen his serious expression, because her smile and laughter faded. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Well, I do. You need to secure your mother’s future.”
“I’ve never once said that.”
“Am I wrong, though?” Her silence was her answer. “I need a solution, and fast, and if my guess is correct, you need money.”
Grace swallowed. Only now was it dawning that this really was a serious proposal...
Wed into a Billionaire’s World
What happens after these Cinderellas say “I do”?
Grace and Violet are best of friends—but neither anticipates how much their oh-so-ordinary lives are about to change forever! You won’t want to miss this thrillingly romantic duet by USA TODAY bestselling author Carol Marinelli!
When Grace travels to Malaysia on the holiday of a lifetime, the last thing she expects is a proposal of convenience from billionaire Carter Bennett! But can she refuse when her family’s well-being—and her far-too-susceptible heart—hangs in the balance?
Find out in Bride Under Contract—out now!
Violet barely knows sheikh prince Sahir...until she’s stolen to be his royal bride! Watch out for their thrilling desert romance, coming soon.
Bride Under Contract
Carol Marinelli
Carol Marinelli recently filled in a form asking for her job title. Thrilled to be able to put down her answer, she put “writer.” Then it asked what Carol did for relaxation and she put down the truth—“writing.” The third question asked for her hobbies. Well, not wanting to look obsessed, she crossed her fingers and answered “swimming”—but, given that the chlorine in the pool does terrible things to her highlights, I’m sure you can guess the real answer!
Books by Carol Marinelli
Harlequin Presents
Cinderellas of Convenience
The Greek’s Cinderella Deal
Forbidden to the Powerful Greek
Scandalous Sicilian Cinderellas
The Sicilian’s Defiant Maid
Innocent Until His Forbidden Touch
Heirs to the Romero Empire
His Innocent for One Spanish Night
Midnight Surrender to the Spaniard
Virgin’s Stolen Nights with the Boss
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM GREEK PREGNANCY CLAUSE BY MAYA BLAKE
PROLOGUE
‘I DON’T THINK this is going to work...’ Grace Andrews was not talking about the faded crimson shorts she held in her hand, nor the washed-out tops that lay spread on her bed.
‘They’re all going to get ruined anyway.’ Her friend and flatmate Violet peered at the ‘essential items’ list. ‘You can buy new stuff after the jungle...’ She paused then, and must have seen the anxiety darting in friend’s green eyes. ‘You’re not talking about the clothes, though, are you?’
As tatty as they were, no.
Grace stood in her dressing gown, her long brown curls wrapped in a towel, her flight just a matter of hours away. There was every reason not to go.
‘I should be looking for a new job. It’s hardly fair on you, me working from home.’
‘It makes no difference to me.’ Violet shrugged. ‘I’m at the library all day...’ She glanced up. ‘Though you are working ridiculous hours.’
‘I’m used to working at night,’ Grace said.
It wasn’t a lie. Data entry might not sound exciting, but it had proved to be a lifeline and meant she’d been able to arrange her hours to suit as her mother’s health deteriorated. But, yes, it wasn’t the best pay, and certainly it wasn’t going to be enough to support her mother long-term.
Grace picked up the backpack she’d been half-heartedly packing and, clearing a space on the bed, took a seat. ‘It’s not just that.’
Two years ago Grace had booked and paid for a month’s vacation to Malaysia, starting with a five-day river trip through the Borneo jungle. It was the most unlikely of locations for Grace, who’d never been further than a school trip to France. Only it wasn’t just the sale price that had caught her attention. The stunning wildlife, as well as the luxurious river-edge villas, had enticed, but the remoteness of the jungle, along with being off-grid for a little while, had truly appealed.
The purchase had been made prior to her mum’s dementia diagnosis. At the time Grace hadn’t known what was wrong—just that things had changed with her mother around the time she’d turned nineteen. Eventually things had become so dire that she’d given up teacher training college and moved back home from the flat she had shared with Violet.
The holiday had been something to cling to...
She’d been purchasing hope, Grace now realised. Some sort of assurance that things would surely get better...
Only they hadn’t.
Violet had been with her throughout.
They had been friends since infant school. Grace, the new girl at school after her parents’ break-up, had hidden shyly behind long dark curls. She’d been in awe of the popular Violet, with her bright sunny nature that matched her golden hair. But one playtime she’d seen Violet being teased about her father being in prison.
Grace had pushed her own awkwardness aside and stepped in. ‘Leave her alone!’
‘What’s it to you?’ The lead bully had sneered.
‘She’s my friend,’ Grace had said, taking Violet’s hand.
And, apart from one regrettable incident just before her mum had been diagnosed, friends they had remained.
It had been Violet who had held Grace’s hand when she’d made the heartbreaking decision to sell the family house and place her mother in a care home. And it was Violet she now shared a flat with once more, and who sat beside her on the bed and did her best to reassure Grace.
‘You need this holiday—you’ve been dealing with this for...’
‘Years,’ Grace nodded.
She’d never really had time to look back and examine it.
The diagnosis had been hard, but the years prior had been their own separate version of hell.
‘Maggie thinks it’s a good idea if you don’t visit for a while...’
Maggie, the care home’s manager, had been firm, telling Grace her month’s absence would give her mother the best chance to settle in.
There was a sick feeling in Grace’s stomach when she thought of her mother sitting alone in the care home, waiting for her to come.
‘I just don’t want Mum to think she’s been forgotten.’
Grace knew that feeling rather too well.
Looking out of the window...waiting for her dad’s car. Running for the post on her birthday... Sometimes there had been a car, and he’d taken her to the fair, or to a park, but more often than not he’d failed to show up.
Finally, and without explanation, he’d stopped all contact.
‘Look, I know I can’t visit her...’ Violet’s voice trailed off.
Neither she nor Grace wanted to raise the incident that had caused their friendship to waver, when—before her diagnosis—Grace’s mum had accused Violet of theft.
To this day Grace regretted her response. For a short while it had been easier to doubt her friend than accept how unwell her mother was.
‘Violet...’ Grace wanted to apologise properly, but Violet perhaps sensed it, because she hurriedly spoke over her.
‘I promise to keep an eye. The care home’s just opposite the library... I can check in with the staff... Anyway,’ Violet persisted, ‘you have to go. There might be some gorgeous...’ She paused and gave a little grimace. ‘Well, perhaps not a wildlife nerd, but once the jungle part’s over and you hit the islands...’
‘Believe me, romance isn’t on my mind.’
‘Who said anything about romance?’ Violet nudged her. ‘One hot night would do me. It might give me something to dream about while I’m filing the late returns.’
Though Grace laughed, she knew that for all Violet’s teasing it was a bit of a front.
They were both wary of men...albeit for different reasons.
Still, lately Violet seemed more ready to shake all that off, whereas Grace felt...
She took a moment, trying to work out how she felt.
Stuck?
No, that did n’t quite fit—after all she was going on holiday and her world was opening up again. The years between nineteen and twenty-five had vanished in a blur of struggling to work and care for her mum...
Lost.
It was more than that...
Grace might be sharing a flat with Violet again, but she felt so very different now than she had before.
Adrift.
Yes, that was more how she felt—adrift. As if she’d lost sight of the person she’d once been, while conversely being anchored.
She hadn’t told Violet everything—possibly because she didn’t want to burden her, or because she just wasn’t ready for another person to know the truth. Violet thought things were fine now, but Grace knew the money wasn’t going to last and could practically see the overwhelming responsibility to provide looming. Her mother was only in her fifties.
‘Don’t throw this holiday away,’ Violet said gently.
Grace nodded, knowing better than her friend that she might never get another chance—at least not for a very long time.
A little serenity might be required!
For now, her mother was safe.
Violet’s pep talk had worked and, with her mind almost made up, Grace glanced at the time. ‘I’m going to take her in a cake and say goodbye...’
‘Are you sure?’
The doubt in her friend’s voice told Grace that Violet didn’t think it was such a good idea.
‘Won’t that just confuse her even more?’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ Grace admitted.
What she did know was that even if her mum didn’t always understand, for Grace it felt important to tell her mother she loved her and to say goodbye properly.
Her father had never afforded her the same courtesy.
CHAPTER ONE
‘THERE’S NOTHING FURTHER to discuss.’
Carter Bennett ended his latest brief relationship in much the same way he would abruptly terminate an unproductive meeting, or simply withdraw from what he considered a stalemate negotiation.
While he might currently be in Manhattan, the laws of the jungle had been coded into his psyche long ago.
Carter knew from bitter experience that in the jungle there were no laws—you made your own.
And now Carter had but one.
He allowed no person or place to get close.
A billionaire nomad, he had offices, properties and investments in several international locations that he moved between. As for friends—while he wouldn’t describe them as such—he had a few trusted acquaintances dotted around the globe.
But not women.
There was no proverbial little black book.
Carter never left an ex on tap or on call. Be it a casual fling or a burgeoning relationship, he always severed ties completely and did so now.
‘We’re done.’
‘You’re a cold-hearted bastard, Carter.’
‘Absolutely, I am,’ he willingly responded. ‘And that is why I made it exceptionally clear from the start that we were going nowhere.’
He glanced at the glossy magazine on his desk that had a photo of the two of them on the cover.
He couldn’t even remember the occasion.
His black hair was freshly cut, but that afforded no clue, given he had it trimmed every couple of weeks. The scar on his forehead was always visible...the suit was from his preferred London tailor... They were coming out of a theatre—but, again, that was nothing unusual. It was his preferred place to take dates.
Carter was considered a theatre buff. In truth he simply liked taking his dates there, or perhaps to the ballet or the opera. Drinks first, or a pre-performance dinner, then hours—apart from the pesky interval—without conversation.
Followed by sex.
Ironic, really, that the only photo the paparazzi had been able to find to announce their so-called engagement had Carter practically scowling. It was a stretch to say they’d even been dating, let alone about to get engaged.
‘From the word go I told you I don’t do relationships!’ Carter tersely reminded her. ‘You were the one who chose to do an interview suggesting otherwise.’
Terminating the call, he tossed the magazine into the trash.
The press on both sides of the Atlantic were having a field-day with the rumours this rather elusive bachelor was finally about to settle down.
Never.
Carter knew he was dead on the inside. There was a black void in his soul—one he knew could never be filled. Money, women, a new car, a night at the casino, a new abode...they brought a fleeting reprieve but, like a temporary crown, they were soon tarnished. As for settling down—Carter didn’t even know what those words meant. The only thing he settled were deals. The only thing he was married to was his work as an architect.
There was nothing temporary or fleeting about the structures he helped create. They were tangible, permanent...
Lasting.
That the press was circling was nothing new—he’d lived with it all his life. Carter Bennett had been making headlines before he’d even been born into his wealthy and somewhat infamous family.
Gordon Bennett, his English father, had caused a stir in the upper echelons of society when he had called off a very suitable engagement to hurriedly marry a gorgeous and equally well-connected American socialite, Sophie Flores.
Carter being the reason!
The couple had gone on to live a bohemian life—sometimes bringing Carter along, but more often leaving him with nannies, or his eccentric grandfather in Borneo, until he’d been old enough for boarding school, where he’d thrived. He’d liked the routine, along with the education, and had shared a room with a boy called Sahir, a young prince, whose protection officer had sat outside as the young boys built ever more intricate towers and bridges.
When Carter had turned eight he’d become a big brother. It hadn’t curtailed his parents’ thirst for adventure and the unconventional. This time around, though, his parents had decided to ‘explore as a family’, and had pulled Carter from school to join them on their adventures in the jungle surrounding his grandfather’s property.
Tragically, he had again become something of a sensation when he’d ‘miraculously’ survived an incident that had claimed Carter’s parents and his baby brother.
Crocodile Attack! That had made for an excellent headline—especially when attached to the Bennett and Flores names!
Only Gordon Bennett’s body had been found, and for a full week it had been assumed Sophie and her two children had perished. But just as the story had started to fade from the front pages and screens, Carter had been back in the headlines again.
Carter Bennett Found Alive—more to come!
Details had proved sparse, though, and confusing. Somehow he’d got through infested waters and been found by local Iban people in dense jungle, some considerable distance from the river, barely clinging to life. Help was on its way, reports had said.
For Carter, help had already arrived.
He could recall opening his eyes to see his friend, Arif’s father.
‘Selamat...’ Bashim had said, and gently told him he was safe. He had been able to tell in an instant that the young boy hadn’t been attacked by a crocodile—his injuries had occurred in the long, lonely days after.
‘Were you trying to find help?’ he’d enquired gently.
But Carter had had no energy to answer.
He had a vague recollection of the motion of being carried back to Bashim’s longhouse on the river’s edge, and the cry of delight from Bashim’s son Arif when they’d arrived. Though he’d lain there almost catatonic he had glimpses of that time—the skill and care they’d taken as they tended to his wounds, the love they’d shown to his devastated grandfather. His friend Arif, just eight himself, had held Carter’s hands when the dressings on his head and back were being changed or helped him sip water.
‘What did you see?’ the little boy had asked, but Carter had not answered. ‘Why won’t he speak?’ Arif had asked his papa. ‘Why can’t he tell us what happened?’
‘Give him time,’ Bashim would respond. ‘He’s not ready.’
To this day, those questions remained unanswered.
The empathy shown to him by Arif’s family and all the locals had been in stark contrast to what lay ahead—doctors, psychologists, investigators and his remaining family...
