Bought: One Night, One Marriage. Natalie Anderson
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Praise for Natalie Anderson:
About ALL NIGHT WITH THE BOSS
‘ALL NIGHT WITH THE BOSS is a fun, sexy read that will test your every emotion and leave the reader feeling completely satisfied. As much as I understood Lissa’s reluctance, I was rooting for Rory all the way; he was the perfect hero to the end. ALL NIGHT WITH THE BOSS is Natalie Anderson’s debut novel, and if this is just a taste of what she has to offer, then romance readers are in for a real treat.’
—www.romancejunkies.com
About BEDDED BY ARRANGEMENT
‘Natalie Anderson’s second feel-good romance is a thoroughly enjoyable tale sprinkled with plenty of passion, humour and emotion which will enchant readers looking for a steamy read to warm them up on a cold autumn night! Sexy, sassy and flirty, BEDDED BY ARRANGEMENT is a fabulous romance written by one of Mills and Boon’s brightest new stars!’
—www.cataromance.com
‘Let’s have a competition. Our own little thing for charity. We each start Monday morning with say $100 in the kitty. We fundraise. For a week. At the end of the week whoever has raised the most wins.’
‘Wins what?’ She was curious now, fixed on him.
‘If you win, I’ll double the combined amount and give it to the charity of your choice.’
‘And if you win?’ Her eyes were wide.
‘If I win then I get you for a weekend and can do whatever I want with you.’
‘Whatever you want?’ She sounded as breathless as if she’d climbed a thousand stairs.
‘You’ll be my slave.’
Possibly the only librarian who got told off herself for talking too much, Natalie Anderson decided writing books might be more fun than shelving them—and, boy, is it that. Especially writing romance—it’s the realisation of a lifetime dream kick-started by many an afternoon spent devouring Grandma’s Mills & Boons®… She lives in New Zealand, with her husband and four gorgeous-but-exhausting children. Swing by her website any time—she’d love to hear from you: www.natalie-anderson.com
Recent titles by this author:
PLEASURED BY THE SECRET MILLIONAIRE
MISTRESS UNDER CONTRACT
BOUGHT: ONE NIGHT, ONE MARRIAGE
BY
NATALIE ANDERSON
I could try to write all the ‘whys’
but there isn’t enough room for all the words,
so I’ll keep it simple:
For Mum—for everything.
CHAPTER ONE
‘I CAN’T believe I agreed to come here.’ Cally looked around her, slowly taking in the decadent atmosphere in the hip Sydney bar. It was like Bacchanalia—riotous revelry. There were well over one hundred women filling the place with laughter, leer and enough bling to blind the nation. Canapés were being consumed with glee and being washed down with terrifyingly neon concoctions. High-pitched chatter drowned the relentless deep thud, thud, thud of the music. Anticipation hung in the air. You could taste the excitement, the expectation of one hell of a good show.
Cally screwed up her nose.
‘Oh, come on.’ Mel looked at her with a ‘get a grip’ expression. ‘It’s for charity.’
‘There are better ways of raising money for charity.’
‘What’s better than watching a line-up of the most eligible bachelors in town?’
‘If they were that eligible they wouldn’t be here.’
‘What?’
‘They must be the most conceited meat-heads to agree to participate.’ The snark was enough to earn her another ‘get over it’ look.
‘Don’t be so uptight.’ Mel shook her head disparagingly. ‘You’ve been working way too hard. They’re doing it to support a good cause. It’s a laugh. A laugh.’ Another pointed look. ‘Remember how to do that? Open your mouth, go “ha ha”?’
‘You know I’m damn good at laughing.’ Cally sighed. ‘I’m just not in the mood for this kind of funny tonight.’
‘Well, down your Sex in the Surf or whatever that drink is called, and get yourself in the mood. Sit back, enjoy the show. Nobody says you have to bid. Buy a few raffle tickets and be done with it.’
Mel was right. But the scene didn’t sit well with Cally. It was so far removed from the cause it was supposed to be supporting. Here they were, draped with all this money—conspicuous consumption to the max. Half these people probably wouldn’t give a second thought to those who this event was supposed to be helping. They were paying lip service—just wanting to get together with a gang of girlfriends and ogle some talent. Bitch over someone else’s dress. Out to outdo and be seen doing it.
It was the kind of thing her mother would love. She’d be here, out-glamorising even the most glamorous and providing sound bites in the style of a Miss Universe save-the-world speech. Fortunately she was away sunning herself on a beach in the Mediterranean somewhere.
Cally grimaced as she glanced round again. Nope. So not her scene. She preferred to stay out of the limelight her mother had always sought. Yes, she had money. Yes, she felt a responsibility to do charitable work. But her father had taught her how much more fun it was to do something behind the scenes, or to donate anonymously. When he died she’d made a vow to continue his work and so had maintained strong connections with his favourite charity—the homeless shelter only a few blocks from the opulent home in which she’d spent her happiest childhood years. She loved the time she put into it—feeling as if it was a way of retaining links with him, wanting to do something that she knew would have made him proud.
Mel cleared her throat and glared again. ‘Must you be so earnest, Cally? For heaven’s sake, have another drink. Or one of those chocolate truffles.’
Cally grinned at that. Actually the chocolate truffles were pretty divine. She pulled the plate nearer. Half the women here wouldn’t touch them anyway, so Cally could have their share. Then she gave herself a rebuke over her pathetic holier-than-thou moment. Many of these women gave time as well as money to charity. One of the wealthiest women in the room spent a night a week answering calls on a youth helpline. And, while she might come across as if nothing mattered more than the colour of the dressing rooms in her new guest wing, the way she could listen to and calm distressed teens was incredible.
The music got even louder, and the MC appeared on stage. Applause filled the air. The show was about to start. Biting into another truffle, Cally sat back and acknowledged that maybe Mel was right. Man candy. So what if people were buying some hunky company? She wasn’t shopping. She’d just watch, be amused by the craziness, try not to feel cheapened, buy a few raffle tickets and donate a chunk on the quiet later. She sipped from her wide-rimmed glass and as she relaxed the first man for sale appeared.
‘I can’t believe I agreed to come here.’ Blake looked around him thunderstruck. ‘I know I didn’t agree to this.’
‘You did.’
‘I thought you meant some kind of working bee. You said a spot of gardening, cleaning up.’
‘And that’s exactly what you’ll be doing.’
Blake gave Judith, his PA, a look of withering disbelief. Not if the sound of those braying women was anything to go by. ‘I really don’t think