Italian Boss, Housekeeper Bride. Sharon Kendrick
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DEAR READER LETTER
By Sharon Kendrick
One hundred. Doesn’t matter how many times I say it, I still can’t believe that’s how many books I’ve written. It’s a fabulous feeling but more fabulous still is the news that Mills & Boon are issuing every single one of my backlist as digital titles. Wow. I can’t wait to share all my stories with you - which are as vivid to me now as when I wrote them.
There’s BOUGHT FOR HER HUSBAND, with its outrageously macho Greek hero and A SCANDAL, A SECRET AND A BABY featuring a very sexy Tuscan. THE SHEIKH’S HEIR proved so popular with readers that it spent two weeks on the USA Today charts and…well, I could go on, but I’ll leave you to discover them for yourselves.
I remember the first line of my very first book: “So you’ve come to Australia looking for a husband?” Actually, the heroine had gone to Australia escape men, but guess what? She found a husband all the same! The man who inspired that book rang me up recently and when I told him I was beginning my 100th story and couldn’t decide what to write, he said, “Why don’t you go back to where it all started?”
So I did. And that’s how A ROYAL VOW OF CONVENIENCE was born. It opens in beautiful Queensland and moves to England and New York. It’s about a runaway princess and the enigmatic billionaire who is infuriated by her, yet who winds up rescuing her. But then, she goes and rescues him… Wouldn’t you know it?
I’ll end by saying how very grateful I am to have a career I love, and to thank each and every one of you who has supported me along the way. You really are very dear readers.
Love,
Sharon xxx
Mills & Boon are proud to present a thrilling digital collection of all Sharon Kendrick’s novels and novellas for us to celebrate the publication of her amazing and awesome 100th book! Sharon is known worldwide for her likeable, spirited heroines and her gorgeous, utterly masculine heroes.
SHARON KENDRICK once won a national writing competition, describing her ideal date: being flown to an exotic island by a gorgeous and powerful man. Little did she realise that she’d just wandered into her dream job! Today she writes for Mills & Boon, featuring her often stubborn but always to-die-for heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. She believes that the best books are those you never want to end. Just like life…
To Bryony Green, the best editor in the world!
Italian Boss, Housekeeper Bride
Sharon Kendrick
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
EPILOGUE
NATASHA didn’t have to see his face to know something was wrong.
She could tell from the slamming of the door and the heavy footfalls in the hall. From the momentary hesitation which was not like Raffaele at all. The barely muffled curse; some Italian expletive, she thought. She listened while he hung his suit jacket up in the hall and heard him go into his study. Then silence—and something very much like fear stirred within her and she didn’t understand why.
He had been away to America—where he owned real-estate on both the east and west coast—and whenever he returned from a trip he always came to find her. To ask her how she’d been. How Sam was.
Sometimes, if he was flying by commercial rather than private jet, he would even remember to bring the child some soft toy or game that he’d bought at the airport. Once she had seen him remove a shiny gold box of perfume from his briefcase, and her heart had begun to thud with a ridiculous excitement. But she had never seen it again.
The scent had not been destined for Natasha. Presumably it had gone to the leggy supermodel he had been seeing at the time—the one who’d always used to leave a stocking or a scarf behind in the bathroom, like some territorial trophy, marking out her pitch.
The study was still ominously silent, and Natasha began making a pot of mega-strong coffee—just as Raffaele had taught her to when she’d first gone to work for him. Wasn’t it crazy how memories could stay stuck fast in your head, even though they meant nothing? Natasha could still remember the shiver she’d felt as he’d bent close to her, too close for her comfort—though, not, it had seemed, for his. He had been too intent on showing her what to do to notice the mousy-looking woman at his side.
His voice had dipped, like soft velvet underpinned with steel. ‘In Italy we say that the coffee should look like ink and taste like heaven. Very strong and very dark—like the best kind of man. You understand? Capisci?’ And the black eyes had glittered at her in mocking question, as if it amused him that a woman should need to be taught how to make coffee.
But she had. Oh, she had. Back then she had needed teaching about pretty much everything that someone like Raffaele took for granted. While he was used to only the very best, she’d always been the kind of person who usually spooned instant out of a jar—until the time had come when she’d had barely enough money to buy any. Just thinking about the mess she had found herself in still had the power to make her tremble with apprehension. She never wanted to go back there—to those days of hunger and uncertainty and real fear—to before Raffaele had stepped in to save her.
Was that why she’d put him on a pedestal ever since?
Natasha placed the coffee and cup on the tray, along with two of the small almond biscuits which were Raffaele’s favourites. She had learnt how to make those, too, from the Italian cookbook he had bought her one Christmas.
Then she checked her appearance in the kitchen mirror, just as any employee would do before going in to see their boss—even if they didn’t happen to live in the same house, as Natasha did.
She