Free The Academic Bride: Billionaire Marriage Brokers Book One by Lucy McConnell

thanks.”
    “Have a nice night.”
    She’d tried to wait up for Nick, thinking that they should at least say good night to each other on their wedding day. She’d propped herself up in bed with the laptop to familiarize herself with the house accounts. There was a lot more to running the house than she would have ever thought possible. After an hour of checking shift changes for possible overlap, she decided Pamela should have found Nick someone with experience in the hotel industry. But then, Janel wouldn’t be lounging on half a dozen pillows in her own private suite. She gave a wicked little grin. The perks far outweighed the stress.
    Long after the exterior safety lights clicked on, making her view of the rear gardens enchanting, her wedding day caught up to her. She slid the laptop to the other side of the huge mattress and conked out.
    “Janel!” The voice was in her room.
    Trish .
    “What is it with you and waking me up? Do you hate me?” Janel threw the covers off her head.
    Trish waited at the end of the bed, her hair pulled back in an intricate braid that hung over one shoulder and her clothes completely wrinkle-free. The only thing worse than being woken up when you’re still tired, is being woken up by someone who looks that good in the morning.
    Trish ran her fingers over the pad resting in the crook of her arm. “You have a meeting with your personal trainer in fifteen minutes.”
    “Where?”
    Trish looked up. “Here.”
    Janel pulled the sheet up to her chin. Not that her pajamas were skimpy; she’d worn a light cotton pair of shorts and a fitted tank to bed. The idea of a strange man in her bedroom made her uncomfortable. An image of some guy holding her feet down while she did sit-ups on the plush rug flashed through her head. “He’s coming to my room?”
    “No, he’ll meet you in the gym downstairs. You just need to throw on some workout clothes and I’ll brief you on the rest of your day on the way.”
    Janel stumbled to the closet and pulled out a pair of cutoff sweats, a sports bra, and a t-shirt with a small hole over her left shoulder blade.
    When she stepped out of the closet, Trish made a face like she’d swallowed bad fish. “What are you wearing?”
    “Workout clothes?”
    “What happened to the yoga pants?” asked Trish as they left Janel’s room.
    “I wear those in public, I’m not going to get them all sweaty.”
    Trish clenched her jaw. “Okay, I will put ‘shopping for proper exercise attire’ on our list of things to do this week. And unless you are going to a yoga class, never wear those in public again. Got it?”
    Janel nodded absently as she craned her neck to see into Nick’s room. It looked like he hadn’t slept in the bed last night. A maid bustled out carrying the shirt he wore to the wedding, and Janel wondered if he’d slept at all or just changed clothes. Janel nodded a greeting to the maid as Trish started down the list on her pad.
    “You’ll meet with Steve, your personal trainer, every Tuesday morning at seven.”
    Janel bristled. Why should she have to work out? She was not a trophy wife; that wasn’t part of the deal. If B.M.B. was trying to turn her into one, she’d have a few words with Pamela. “Why do I need a personal trainer?”
    “It’s part of our ongoing services. We find that people who exercise are generally happier in life, they are better and more creative at problem-solving, and can participate in a variety of activities due to their physical stamina.”
    Janel paused on the stairs. “What happens if I get fat?”
    Trish looked over her shoulder. “Excuse me?”
    “If I get fat, do I get fired?”
    Trish’s mouth dropped open. “What? No.”
    “Then why do I have to work out?”
    Trish stepped up so they were on the same level and put her arm around Janel. “This marriage is as much about you as it is about Mr. Ryburn. You’re a busy student, you teach classes, and you’re planning a huge archeological dig in