Confessions of His Christmas Housekeeper by Sharon Kendrick
Coming next month
A CONTRACT FOR HIS RUNAWAY BRIDE
Melanie Milburne
‘Could you give me an update on when Mr Smith will be available?’
The receptionist’s answering smile was polite but formal. ‘I apologise for the delay. He’ll be with you shortly.’
‘Look, my appointment was -’
‘I understand, Ms Campbell. But he’s a very busy man. He’s made a special gap in his diary for you. He’s not usually so accommodating. You must’ve made a big impression on him.’
‘I haven’t even met him. All I know is, I was instructed to be here close to thirty minutes ago for a meeting with a Mr Smith to discuss finance. I’ve been given no other details.’
The receptionist glanced at the intercom console where a small green light was flashing. She looked up again at Elodie with the same polite smile. ‘Thank you for being so patient. Mr…erm… Smith will see you now. Please go through. It’s the third door on the right. The corner office.’
The corner office boded well- that meant he was the head honcho. The big bucks began and stopped with him. Elodie came to the door and took a deep calming breath but it did nothing to settle the frenzy of flick-knives in her stomach. She gave the door a quick rap with her knuckles. Please, please, please let me be successful this time.
‘Come.’
Her hand paused on the doorknob, her mind whirling in ice cold panic. Something about the deep timbre of that voice sent a shiver scuttling over her scalp like a small claw-footed creature. How could this Mr Smith sound so like her ex-fiancé? Scarily alike. She turned the doorknob and pushed the door open, her gaze immediately fixing on the tall dark-haired man behind the large desk.
‘You?’ Elodie gasped, heat flooding into her cheeks and other places in her body she didn’t want to think about right now.
Lincoln Lancaster rose from his chair with leonine grace, his expression set in its customary cynical lines- the arch of one ink-black brow over his intelligent bluey-green gaze, the tilt of his sensual mouth that was not quite a smile. His black hair was brushed back from his high forehead in loose waves that looked like they had last been combed by his fingers. He was dressed in a three-piece suit that hugged his athletic frame, emphasising the broadness of his shoulders, the taut trimness of his chest, flat abdomen and lean hips. He was the epitome of successful a man in his prime. Potent, powerful, persuasive. He got what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted.
‘You’re looking good, Elodie.’ His voice rolled over her as smoothly and lazily as his gaze, the deep sexy rumble so familiar it triggered a host of memories she had fought for seven years to erase. Memories in her flesh that were triggered by being in his presence. Erotic memories that made her hyper aware of his every breath, his every glance, his every movement.
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A CONTRACT FOR HIS RUNAWAY BRIDE
Melanie Milburne
Available next month
Copyright © 2021 by Melanie Milburne
