The Bridal Chronicles. Lissa Manley
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Ryan stood next to his car and put up a hand to Anna as she climbed into her small car. She’d promised to meet him at the Beacon right away to sign the release.
Dragging his eyes away from the enticing curve of her hip as she slid into the seat, he focused on her gorgeous face, the lower part visible beneath the wide brim of the ridiculous hat she’d put back on.
What a beauty she was. He’d been spellbound by her creamy skin and how it had glowed in the muted lighting of the restaurant. Her thick, dark red hair had perfectly contrasted with her porcelain complexion and stunning, amber-shaded eyes.
Yeah, she was just the “bride” he needed. He frowned. For publicity, of course. After Sonya’s torching, posing for a fake wedding photo was as close as he’d ever get to being part of a wedded couple.
He sat down, turned on the ignition, and shifted his Porsche into gear, heading out of the parking lot.
Thank goodness his lunch date had turned out so well and Anna had changed her mind.
As he cruised toward the bridge that would take him over the Willamette River, he relaxed. Anna had agreed to sign the release, clearing the way for the picture to be printed. The Mentor A Child Foundation would get the publicity they needed and, hopefully, lots of neglected kids would be spared the kind of childhood he’d had. No thanks to Joanna, his image was well on the way to being squeaky clean again.
Smiling, he downshifted and zipped past another car, enjoying the sight of the Portland skyline, rising majestically in front of him against the spectacular, blue summer sky. He glanced down at the river running beneath the bridge. Sailboats and pleasure-craft bobbed like toys on the sparkling water. Casting his gaze right, he admired the other bridges connecting Portland’s east and west sides. Ahead of him loomed the West Hills, studded with evergreens glowing like emeralds in the sun.
Light-years from the ramshackle dump located in a podunk town in eastern Washington State he’d grown up in. Surrounded by poverty, constantly hungry, he’d dreamed of living in a city like Portland, a prosperous city full of tall buildings, sparkling rivers and opportunities for those, like himself, willing to work for them.
With those dreams driving him, he’d left his dirt-poor, horrific childhood and neglectful parents behind at seventeen. He’d worked his way through college digging ditches, scraped his way up and built his business from nothing. Now, ten years after he’d graduated, he was a successful businessman. He had the opportunity to promote an organization he believed in, an organization that helped kids who reminded him of himself.
When he reached the west side of the river, he swung a quick left and headed toward the office of the Beacon. Heady anticipation rose in him, carving away some of the worry that had been eating at him since Joanna had dumped her lies on the press about the kind of employer he was and his image had taken a nosedive, threatening his involvement with the foundation.
Tightening his hand on the steering wheel, he downshifted and jetted through an intersection, just making the light. He stopped at the next red light, looked in the rearview mirror and straightened his tie. Best Wedding Couple and free publicity for the Mentor A Child Foundation were just around the corner. Things were going exactly the way he wanted.
Within days, his problems would be solved.
And Anna’s problems?
Ryan shoved that niggling thought away. Anna might be a hardworking, normal woman he admired, but that didn’t make any difference. He needed to concentrate on what was important.
His business.
His charity work.
Keeping his heart safe.
After Sonya, he couldn’t let anything else matter.
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