The Corporate Marriage Campaign
Darcy Malone can't quite believe she's let smooth-talking tycoon Trey Kent talk her into posing as his fiancée for a high-profile TV advertising campaign. In exchange for helping her establish her own business, Trey wants Darcy to act the adoring wife-to-be on and off screen, at least until the promotion is finished!Darcy may be a great businesswoman and is determined not to mix pleasure with business. Trouble is, with every sizzling on-screen kiss they share, Darcy's resolve weakens. Until deal, or no deal, she can't help but wish that Trey's passionate response isn't just for the cameras…!
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And what about you, Darcy? What are you feeling?
She hadn’t expected that question to come up, not where Trey was concerned. This was a business proposition, pure and simple, and feelings shouldn’t have come into it at all. But now that the line had been crossed between business and emotion…she had to admit she wasn’t quite sure what she was feeling. She was irritated at him for taking advantage of the situation, that was for sure. Intrigued by what on earth his reasons could be. Fascinated at what he might be plotting. Annoyed at…
Time was what she needed, to sort everything out in her head and decide what to do. Time to think about the situation, and about what she wanted, and about Trey.
Especially about Trey, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind.
Darcy did her best to ignore it.
From city girl—to corporate wife!
Working side by side, nine to five—and beyond….
No matter how hard these couples try to keep their relationships strictly professional, romance is definitely on the agenda!
But will a date in the office diary lead to an appointment at the altar?
Contracted: Corporate Wife by Jessica Hart, Harlequin Romance #3861
Leigh Michaels wrote her first book when she was fourteen and thought she knew everything. Now she’s a good bit older, and wise enough to realize that she’ll never know everything. She has written more than 75 romance novels, teaches writing in person and online, and enjoys long walks, miniatures and watching wild deer and turkey from her living room.
Leigh loves to hear from readers. You may contact her at: P.O. Box 935, Ottumwa, Iowa 52501, U.S.A. or visit her Web site: [email protected]
Books by Leigh Michaels
HARLEQUIN ROMANCE>®
3815—THE HUSBAND SWEEPSTAKE
3836—ASSIGNMENT: TWINS
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
THE sound of a key clicking in the lock roused Darcy just enough to make her moan and turn over, but not enough to make her aware of where she was—which was why, when Dave came through the front door a few seconds later, she was sprawled on the carpet next to the couch she’d just fallen from.
Dave stopped dead, his briefcase still swinging. “What are you doing down here?”
Darcy rubbed her neck. “Sleeping, apparently.”
“Was it too stuffy for you upstairs last night? Maybe we need to put an air conditioner in.”
“As far as I know, it’s fine. I haven’t been up there.”
Dave raised an eyebrow. “Are you nursing a hangover?”
“No, David—not unless they’ve started putting something alcoholic into tea bags.” Darcy pushed herself up into a sitting position against the front of Mrs. Cusack’s desk. It was plenty solid enough to lean against; there was no chance that the massive desk would slide out from behind her. “I finished up a dozen job applications—they’re right there, all ready to mail—and the last thing I remember, I sat down for a minute on the couch to admire the stack. I must have been more tired than I thought.”
“How late were you up?”
Darcy shrugged. “I remember noticing 3:00 a.m., but I was still making copies then so it must have been a lot later when I actually crashed.” She gave an enormous yawn and grumbled, “This isn’t fair, you know. If I’m going to wake up with the same symptoms as a hangover, I should at least have the fun of a party to remember. I’m going to bed.”
“Uh, Darcy…”
“I don’t like the sound of that, Dave.”
“Mrs. Cusack called me at home this morning. She isn’t going to be coming in today, so I wondered if you could fill in.”
“Again? I suppose her sinuses are still acting up.”
“I told her it would be all right, because you’d be here. Sorry.”
“Does it appear to you that ever since I came back to town, your secretary has gotten into the habit of calling in sick a couple of times a week? That’s not a complaint, by the way, just a comment.”
“She thinks you’re taking advantage of me, living rent free in the penthouse.”
The penthouse. It was Darcy herself who had named it that, back when Dave had bought the little cottage to house his fledgling law practice and moved into the half-finished attic in order to ease the strain on his finances. She hadn’t expected then that she’d ever be living there herself, even temporarily.
“Well, it’s not exactly the Ritz—but whatever Mrs. Cusack thinks, I appreciate having the accommodations.” Darcy shook her head, trying to clear it. “And I’m happy to lend a hand. I’ll pull myself together here in a minute, but some coffee would sure help.”
“I’ll start a pot.”
“Well, go easy on it. The battery acid you call coffee—”
“It’s guaranteed to wake you up.”
“David, your coffee would wake up a corpse. Do I have time for a shower? Not that you want me greeting clients without one, after I worked most of the night.”
Dave checked his wristwatch. “I’m not expecting anybody for an hour or so. If you like, I’ll make sure the hot water runs out before then so you won’t be walking through the waiting room wearing a towel.”
