Bought: One Bride

“You, however, my sweet darling Holly, heated my blood from the first moment I saw you.”

He cupped her face and bent down to kiss her.

Not a hard kiss. Or a hungry one. A soft, tender, loving kiss that rocked her soul.

What a fool she was. A silly fool. Didn’t she know she’d been half in love with him before she even met him? He was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. The trouble was, as perfect as he was in her eyes, in his heart of hearts, he would always belong to someone else.

Tears pricked at her eyes, bringing panic. She didn’t want him to know how she felt about him. He might use the knowledge against her. Make her do things she knew she shouldn’t do, like say yes to marrying him.

Bought: One Bride

Miranda Lee

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

PROLOGUE

THE lift purred its way up to the penthouse floor, coming to a quiet halt before the door slid smoothly open, revealing a marble-floored foyer underfoot, and a breathtaking view straight ahead. Sydney Harbour on a clear summer’s day was always a sight to behold, with its sparkling blue water and picturesque surrounds, but more so from this height and this vantage point.

Richard shook his head as he walked from the lift towards the huge plate-glass window, his expression wry as he glanced over his shoulder at Reece, who’d hung back a little.

“I can see why you’ve had no trouble selling these apartments,” he remarked to his friend and business colleague. “I’ve never seen a finer view.”

Reece’s handsome face showed satisfaction as he came forward to stand at Richard’s shoulder. “I always abide by that famous old real estate saying. Position. Position. Position. Aside from being north-facing with a great view of the bridge, this point at East Balmain is just a short ferry ride from Sydney’s Central Business District, and an even shorter ride across to Darling Harbour.”

“It’s certainly a top spot, especially being near to the CBD. Which is just as well,” Richard added. “There were mutterings at the bank all last year that I’d used their money to back one too many of your projects. My new position as CEO could have been on the line if this had proved to be one big white elephant. The board were seriously worried when you wouldn’t allow investors to buy off the plan.”

Reece smiled. “Aah, but these apartments weren’t directed at investors. They were designed so that people would fall in love with at least one of them and want to live here. As well as devoting two floors to a private gym, pool, sauna and squash courts, I had each apartment individually decorated and furnished, right down to the sheets, towels and accessories. It added between one and two hundred thousand to the cost of each apartment, but it’s proved to be a most successful selling tool.”

Richard winced. Up to two hundred thousand, spent decorating each apartment. Good God.

“I’m glad you didn’t tell me that earlier. The old fogies at the bank would have had a pink fit. I might have too,” he added with a dry laugh. There were factions at the bank who didn’t approve of Richard’s promotion last year. A couple of the senior executives thought he was too young at thirty-eight to run a multibillion-dollar financial institution.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you till now,” Reece said with a wry grin. “I know when to keep a secret. But you’ve had the last laugh, dear friend,” he said, clapping Richard on the shoulder. “The building’s only been open since last October and we already have a ninety-five per cent occupancy rate. Three short months, and there’s only one penthouse left empty, along with a few apartments on the lower floors.”

“What’s wrong with the penthouse you haven’t sold?” Richard asked. “Too expensive? Wrong colour scheme?”

“Nope. It’s not on the market.”

“Aah. The developer has claimed it for himself.”

Reece’s blue eyes twinkled. “Come on. I’ll show it to you.”

“I can understand now why you’ve kept this one,” Richard said ten minutes later.

It was nothing like other city penthouses Richard had seen during his lifetime. And he’d seen quite a few. This was like a house up in the sky. A beach house, complete with garden beds, a lap pool and wide, cream-tiled terraces where you could stretch out and enjoy the view and soak up the sun.

Inside, the décor continued the promise of a relaxed, sun-filled lifestyle, with the same cream tiles on the floors throughout. The walls were painted either cream or a warm buttery colour. Most of the furniture was made of natural cane, with soft furnishings in various shades of blue. Rugs in blues and yellows gave warmth to the tiled floors.

No curtains or blinds blocked the view, though the glass doors and windows were tinted to reduce any glare. Naturally, the interior was fully air-conditioned and Reece proudly announced there was heating under the floor tiles to warm the place in the winter. Every room had a view and sliding glass doors that led out onto the terraces. A high cement wall separated the two top-floor penthouses, providing privacy and a courtyard effect to house the lap pool.

When Richard walked into the spacious master bedroom with its luxuriously large bed and built-in television screen in the wall opposite, a feeling of sheer envy consumed him.

He’d always admired Reece for his tenacity and resilience, admired how he’d picked himself up both professionally and personally a few years back and worked his way back from the brink of bankruptcy to his current position as the golden boy of Sydney’s property development business.

But he had never, ever envied him.

Till now.

Suddenly, Richard wanted this penthouse. Wanted to live in it. Wanted to come home to it every night, instead of the cold, soulless apartment he’d occupied since his wife’s death eighteen months ago. He even wanted to share it with someone, which was a surprise as well. Up till this moment, the thought of sharing his life—and his bed—with another woman had been anathema to him. He’d been in total emotional shutdown since he’d buried Joanna. Total sexual shutdown as well.

No wonder he’d been capable of putting in twenty-four-hour days at the bank. His male hormones had to be directed somewhere. It seemed, however, that his male hormones were about to emerge from their cryogenic state, for when Richard looked at the king-sized bed in front of his eyes, he didn’t envisage sleeping in it alone.

His flesh actually stirred with the mental image of himself making love to a woman on top of that blue satin quilt. No one he already knew. An attractive stranger. Brunette. Soft-eyed. Full-breasted. And very willing.

His flesh stirred even further.

“You really like this place, don’t you?” Reece said.

Richard laughed. “I didn’t think I was that obvious. But, yes, I really do. Would you consider selling it to me?”

“Nope.”

Frustration flared within Richard, alongside another surge of testosterone. “Damn it, Reece, you already own a mansion on the water just around the corner. What do you want this place for?”

“To give to you.”

“What?” Richard’s eyebrows shot ceiling-wards.

Reece smiled that disarming, charming smile of his. “Here are the keys, my friend. It’s yours.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Richard exclaimed, though his heart was hammering inside his chest. “I can’t let you do that. Hell, this place has to be worth a small fortune.”

“Five point four million the other penthouse sold for, to be precise. But this one is bigger and better. Here.” And he pressed the keys into Richard’s right hand.

“No, no. You have to let me pay for it!”

“Absolutely not. It’s all yours, in appreciation. You were there for me, Rich, when no one else was. And I’m not just talking about the money. You gave me your hand in friendship. And you had faith in my judgement. That’s worth more than all the money in the world.”

Richard didn’t know what to say. Only twice in his banking career had he made personal friends of men he’d lent money to. It was generally advised against. But he’d never had any cause to regret either decision.

Reece, of course, was always a hard man to say no to, and impossible not to like.

Mike had been a different kettle of fish entirely. As dark in looks and personality as Reece was light and bright, the young computer genius had come to the bank several years ago for backing to start his own software company. A one-time juvenile delinquent who had a permanent chip on his shoulder, Mike had no ability to sell himself at all.

But he was creatively brilliant, cripplingly honest and unashamedly ambitious. Richard had been so impressed, he’d invested his own money into Mike’s company as well as the bank’s.

Over time, Richard had found himself really liking Mike as well, despite his gruff manner. He’d persuaded Mike to go along to one of Reece’s famous parties and the three of them had soon become close friends.

Nowadays, Richard counted Reece and Mike as his best and only true friends. Other male colleagues in his life pretended friendship, but Richard knew that they had knives ready behind his back, to be used if he gave them a chance.

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” Richard said, his hand closing tightly around the keys. “But to accept a luxury penthouse as a gift—especially this one—would put me in an impossible position at the bank. My enemies would have a field day. There’d be all sorts of rumours about corruption and paybacks and Lord knows what else. You must let me pay for it.”

“You and that bloody bank and those pompous pricks you work with!”

Richard laughed. “Yes, I know, but it’s my bloody bank now and I’d like to keep it that way. I’ll give you the proper market value. What would that be? Six million?”

“Probably.” Reece sighed. “Very well. Six million.”

“Look, it’s not as though I can’t afford it,” Richard pointed out. “I made a packet out of the house at Palm Beach I bought.” And which he’d sold a week after Joanna’s funeral.

Richard didn’t add that in the eighteen months since Joanna’s death, he’d also tripled his personal fortune in the stock market. Amazing what profits could be made when you were uncaring of the risks you were taking.

He could retire right now on his portfolio of property and shares.

But of course he wouldn’t. He enjoyed the cut and thrust of the financial world; enjoyed the power of his new position, and the prestige that went with it.

Richard wondered momentarily what Joanna would have made of his success, if she’d still been alive. She would have liked the money, and the social life his new job required of him. But would it have kept her solely in his bed?

Richard doubted it. Any woman who took a lover within two years of her marriage had to be unfaithful by nature.

If it hadn’t been for the autopsy report, he would never have known the awful truth about the woman he loved. He’d questioned the coroner at length about the age of the child Joanna had been carrying when the car accident had claimed her life, but he’d been told there was no mistake. Six weeks, give or take a few days.

Richard had been overseas on business for over a month surrounding the time of conception.

The child was not his.

Richard’s hand closed even more tightly around the keys. He’d wanted a child with her so much. But Joanna had kept putting him off, saying she wasn’t ready for dirty nappies and sleepless nights.

The thing that tormented him the most—now that he could bear to think about it—was the way she’d greeted him when he’d returned home that last time. As if she’d truly loved him. As if she’d missed him so much. She hadn’t been able to get enough of him in bed, when all the while she’d been carrying another man’s child.

Clearly, she’d been going to pass the baby off as his.

What kind of woman could do that?

Richard had buried both of them with a broken heart, then buried himself in his career.

They said time healed everything. Perhaps so. But Richard knew his life would never be the same, post-Joanna. He could never fall in love again for starters. That part of him had died with her.

But he didn’t want to continue living alone.

And he still wanted a child.

It was definitely time to move on. Time to find himself a new wife, the way Reece had found Alanna after his fiancée had dumped him.

“You have that look on your face,” Reece said, breaking the silence in the bedroom.

“What look is that?”

“The one you get when you’re about to ask me endless questions, usually on the new project I’ve just come to you with.”

The corner of Richard’s mouth twitched. “You’re a remarkably intuitive man. I do have some questions for you. And, yes, it’s about a project of yours. But not a new one. One you completed last year. Shall we go out onto the terrace and sit down?”

“I’ve never known you to be so mysterious,” he said as he followed Richard through the sliding glass doors out into the sunshine.

Richard pulled out one of the chairs of the nearest outdoor setting and sat down. There were several arrangements dotted around the various terraces. This was made in cream aluminium, with a glass-topped table and pale blue, all-weather cushions on the chairs.

Richard waited till Reece was settled opposite him before he spoke.

“I’ve decided I want to get married again,” he began.

“But that’s great!” his friend proclaimed. “I didn’t realise you were seeing someone.”

“I’m not. But I hope to be soon, once you put me in touch with the woman who runs Wives Wanted.”

Reece’s mouth dropped open before snapping shut again. “But you didn’t approve when I told you about that.”

“I was surprised, that’s all.” A reasonable reaction, in Richard’s opinion. Reece was not the sort of man one would ever imagine using an introduction agency. His confession to his best man and groomsman just before his wedding last year that he’d found his beautiful new bride via an internet website had come as a shock.

The agency was called Wives Wanted, its aim being to match professional men with the kind of women lots of them wanted to marry, especially those of the “once bitten, twice shy” brigade. Apparently, its database was chock-full of attractive women who were only interested in one career. Marriage. Women whose priority was not necessarily romantic love, but security and commitment.

A lot of them had had previous marriages, or relationships, that had failed to deliver what they wanted in life. Some were currently career girls, but were prepared to relegate their careers to the back seat, for the right man.

“It was Mike who didn’t approve,” Richard pointed out. “But don’t forget, he hadn’t met Alanna at that stage.”

Thankfully, Richard had stopped Mike from repeating to Reece at the reception that he thought all women who put themselves out like that were nothing but cold-blooded gold-diggers, looking for a gravy train to ride. He’d voiced that opinion to Richard, however. More than once.

But no one who got to know Reece’s wife would believe such a thing of her.

Richard had initially been stunned when Reece had confessed that he’d found his lovely Alanna through this agency. He’d presumed Reece had met her socially. After all, he had a very active social life. A man of his looks and position could have had his pick of women.

When Richard had asked him outright at the wedding reception why he’d gone to an introduction agency, Reece’s reply had been very to the point, and extremely pragmatic.

“It was a question of time. I wanted a wife and a family, but I didn’t want to be bothered with a traditional courtship. Far too lengthy a process. Whenever I want a property with certain requirements, I get my PA to narrow the field down for me before I look personally. I approached finding a wife the same way. I gave Wives Wanted a list of my requirements and they selected several suitable candidates for me to view via the internet. I chose three who appealed to me. I only had to date each one once and I knew straight away which girl I would marry.”

Richard recalled naïvely asking Reece if it was a case of love at first sight, at which Mike had laughed.

“Reece isn’t interested in love any more,” Mike had drily informed him. “Not after that other bitch did the dirty on him. Isn’t that right, Reece?”

Reece had confirmed that love certainly hadn’t come into the equation, on either side, although he claimed he wouldn’t have married Alanna without some sexual chemistry between them.

Some sexual chemistry?

Richard still considered this a rather outrageous understatement. He’d had several opportunities to observe Reece and Alanna together, both before and after their wedding. To his eyes, the sexual chemistry between them was quite electric, especially on Reece’s part.

Richard had noted at a recent dinner party he’d attended at the Diamonds’ place that Reece had spent an inordinate amount of time watching his beautiful wife talking to the male guest sitting next to her.

Admittedly, Alanna had looked extra stunning that night in a clinging white satin gown that made the most of her physical assets. There hadn’t been a man sitting at that table who hadn’t found his eyes coming back to her all the time, himself included.

Richard thought it was just as well that ethereal-looking blondes with porcelain skin, pale green eyes and tall, willowy figures didn’t overly stir his male hormones. He preferred the more earthy kind of women, with stronger colouring and lush bodies.

Joanna had had black hair, black eyes and a voluptuous figure.

Not that Richard wanted to marry some clone of Joanna. Hell, no. He wanted the second Mrs Richard Crawford to be as far removed from the first as a woman could be. In personality and character, that was. Physically, he’d always been attracted to brunettes with curves. He knew, when he eventually studied the Wives Wanted database, he wouldn’t be selecting any skinny blondes.

“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Reece asked him.

“Absolutely.”

“I presume you’re not looking for love, then.”

“You presume correctly.”

“You want a marriage of convenience. Like mine.”

“Yes.”

Reece frowned. “I’m not sure you’re cut out for a relationship like that, Rich. You’re a bit of a romantic at heart.”

“Not any more, I’m not.”

Richard wished he hadn’t sounded quite so bitter. Reece looked startled. As well he might. Reece knew nothing about Joanna’s betrayal. Men, even the closest of friends, didn’t tell each other things like that.

“I’ve made up my mind about this,” Richard stated firmly.

“Can I ask why?” Reece probed.

“It’s not rocket science, my friend. Just the need for companionship. And some regular sex.”

“You could get that from a girlfriend.”

“I don’t want a girlfriend. I want a wife.”

“Aah, I get the picture. It’s because of the bank. Your position as CEO would be consolidated if you were married.”

Now it was Richard’s turn to be startled. “It has nothing whatsoever to do with the bank. I simply want to be married. I want what you’ve got, Reece. A good-looking woman who’s happy to be my wife, and to have my child.”

“I didn’t realise you wanted a family.”

“Why on earth would you think that?”

Reece shrugged. “You were married to Joanna for two years, more than enough time to have a baby.”

“That was not my doing,” Richard informed his friend, doing his best not to sound cold.

Reece still frowned. “I thought you were happy with Joanna…”

“I was,” he said truthfully enough. His unhappiness hadn’t begun till after she’d died. “I was mad about her. But she’s gone, and I’m here and I’m lonely, all right? I want a woman in my life. What I don’t want, however, is romance. I’ve been there, done that.”

Reece nodded. “Yes, I can understand where you’re coming from.”

“You should. I know how you felt about Kristine. Which is why you went to Wives Wanted in the first place. Because you were still in love with her.”

“The way you still are with Joanna.”

Richard didn’t deny it. If he had, he might have had to explain.

“Now that that’s all settled, I’m going back inside to have another look at my fabulous new penthouse,” he said, scraping back his chair and standing up. “Which reminds me. Can I move in before contracts are exchanged?”

“Move in today, if you like.”

Richard was not an impulsive man by nature but, today, things were a-changing. “You know what? I think I will.”

CHAPTER ONE

HOLLY glared for the umpteenth time at the FOR SALE sign that had been taped on the shop window less than half an hour earlier. Fury and indignation warred inside her swirling stomach and whirling head.

How dared her stepmother do this? How dared she?

A Flower A Day was at least half hers by rights. She should have been consulted. Should have been considered.

But any consideration for her feelings had clearly ended with her father’s death. Any hope of his beloved business one day being hers had died with him.

She’d been stupid to stay on. Especially stupid to work for such a pathetic salary, considering she managed the shop now, and did the books as well. Every Sunday, no less. Her day off!

Heck, Sara took home almost as much money as she did. And Sara only worked from Wednesday till Saturday as a casual. Sure, Sara was an excellent florist with loads of experience but Holly was every bit as experienced. She might only be twenty-six but she’d been working with flowers all her life. Her dad had started training her to be a florist when she’d been knee-high to a grasshopper. She’d joined him in the shop soon after her fifteenth birthday.

Holly’s heart twisted as she remembered how happy they’d been back then. Just her and her dad.

And then Connie had come along.

Holly hadn’t realised till after her dad had died two years back what kind of woman her stepmother was. Connie had been very clever during the eight years she’d been the second Mrs Greenaway.

But Holly had certainly known within weeks of her dad marrying the attractive divorcee that her stepsister was a nasty piece of work. Jealous, spiteful and devious. Unfortunately, Katie had been equally clever with her new stepfather as his new wife had.

Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth around him.

Holly bitterly resented the money Connie and Katie had wheedled out of her dad. Only the fact that he’d seemed happy had made her stay silent over the vicious things Katie had said to her in private.

Of course, after her dad had died, all gloves had been off. Connie had begun showing her true colours and Katie…well, Katie had gone from bad to worse.

Holly knew she should have moved out of their lives altogether right then and there, but she just couldn’t bear to part company with her dad’s flower shop. She still felt close to him there. So she’d moved into the flat above the shop and set about getting A Flower A Day back on track.

Business had fallen right off after her father’s stroke, Holly having been so upset that she’d had to close the shop for a while. It had taken over a year to get all his old clients back and to start making a profit. Not that A Flower A Day would ever be a great money-making concern. Strip shopping wasn’t very successful these days. The malls had taken over.