Free Daniel's Bride by Joanne Hill

apartment door and inhaled
deeply.
    What the heck are you doing, she muttered. It was like being
the Fiddler on the Roof. She was struggling to keep on living and keep her
balance and not fall off in a changing world, and boy, had that world changed a
lot recently. The question was would she succeed?
    The front door swung open, and the latest change to her life
– or trying to put a positive spin on it, saviour – stood there. He folded his
arms across his chest, his gaze skipped from her sneakers to her black skirt,
to her bright green top, and then his gaze settled on hers.
    She discreetly did the same. The top button of his white
shirt was undone, and he wore no tie. His black trousers fitted snugly around
lean hips and powerful thighs, and he towered over her. You would look twice at
him, just as she’d done at the beach. She, on the other hand, was short,
possessed a tendency to plumpness, and had been awarded looks no one would look
twice at.
    She straightened on a sudden jolt of realization. Which
meant she was quite possibly exactly what he wanted. Someone plain and
inconspicuous, someone who wouldn’t tempt him physically while they had to
“pretend” to be husband and wife.
    He glanced at his watch. “What can I do for you, Mel?”
    “If you’ve got a minute, I’d like to talk to you.”
    He beckoned for her to follow him. But surely a man like
Daniel, a man who reeked virility just by breathing, would want the benefits of
a live-in relationship? Like a bed mate to ensure the time passed pleasantly?
    Yet it was the one thing she was not prepared to compromise
on. The annulment would be the safety net.
    She followed him through to his lounge. Out of the corner of
her eye she spotted views, but didn’t allow herself to get side tracked. The
sooner this was over the better. She took a breath, the longest hardest breath
she had ever taken so she didn’t faint right into his arms like the virginal
imbecile he no doubt considered her to be.
    “If you still want to marry me, I accept.” She added
quickly, “As per the discussion at lunch. The –” She held up her hands and did
quotation marks. “Marriage of convenience.”
    His gaze didn’t flicker. Surely he hadn’t found someone
else, and she’d now been rendered obsolete?
    This had the potential to be the most embarrassing moment of
her life, coming a very close second to being jilted. She managed a nonchalant
shrug. “I’m easy either way.”
    She thought relief crossed his face, a flicker at the corner
of his mouth, but it remained for the most part impressively impassive.
    He nodded. “Good.”
    Good? “So? You’re agreeable?”
    He nodded.
    “Okay.” Phew. She said, “Shouldn’t we shake on it or
something?”
    His mouth curled in a smile, and he held out his hand. She
stared at the long tanned fingers, the powerful wrist, the masculinity of him, and
it struck her again that she might be getting herself into more trouble than
she’d bargained for. Hands like that evoked images of touching and feeling. She
would see them every day.
    For you, Mum, she whispered, as she took his hand to seal
the deal. He squeezed, and warmth infused her skin with a series of tingles
that automatically made her tug her hand away. Instead he gripped it tighter
and pulled her close.
    He murmured, his voice low, deep and tinged with danger, “I
think we can do better than that.”
    He dipped his head, brought his lips to hers, and kissed
her.
    The firm softness of his mouth, the scent of him, the divine
taste of him, sent what had to be desire pulsing through her body. Whatever it
was, she hadn’t felt it with Max. Now, it was all she could do not to wrap her
arms around him, pull him closer, and press her body up against his. Her heart
raced in her chest. What was happening?
    He pulled away, dropped her hand and took a step back.
    Cold air swirled between them, rapidly damping down the heat
that seconds ago had surged through her. She stared into his eyes,