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Marrying A Millionaire
Laura Martin
For richer, for poorerMillionaire Daniel Hamilton had found the perfect bride!Cathy was a total contrast to the social climbers he usually met. Trouble was, the hardworking, fiercely independent single mom only felt comfortable with him because she thought he was as penniless as she was!He fully intended to tell her he was one of the richest bachelors in the country–then ask her to marry him. But before he could pop the question, Cathy discovered the truth for herself. Now Daniel would have to win her trust again before he could persuade her even to consider marriage….
“It’s lovely!”
As she stepped over the threshold, Cathy glanced around the interior, puzzled disbelief marring her expression. “Is it a strain keeping up with the running costs of this place?”
“A strain?” Daniel made an effort to gather his thoughts. “No…no, I live pretty frugally….”
He should just tell her now and get it over and done with. Why was he finding it so difficult?
Daniel looked into Cathy’s sweet face. Fear—that was what it boiled down to. Fear of losing her. He knew that as soon as he revealed the extent of his wealth, things would change. Cathy was fragile, proud, defensive about her lack of money. She would look at the differences between them and think they were too wide, too vast. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want anything to spoil this wonderful beginning.
Laura Martin lives in a small Gloucestershire village in England with her husband, two children and a lively sheepdog! Laura has a great love of interior design and, together with her husband, has recently completed the renovation of their Victorian cottage. Her hobbies include gardening, the theater, music and reading, and she finds great pleasure and inspiration from walking daily in the beautiful countryside around her home.
Marrying a Millionaire
Laura Martin
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#u57c0a8fc-14c6-5633-88e7-269ffdcf8d6f)
CHAPTER TWO (#u5fd68035-cbf2-5d45-be18-383e6f652931)
CHAPTER THREE (#u6b6712fe-3348-5ae2-a487-ebb3c9a52d90)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
‘MUMMY, tell me about our new house again!’
Cathy placed the last of her cooking utensils into the large cardboard box and sat back on her heels, glad of the diversion. She had been up since first light, making sure everything was organised for the move, and felt absolutely exhausted, even though it was barely three in the afternoon.
‘Well, it’s old, and it has four little windows at the front which look out onto a narrow lane, and there’s a square of grass at the front and a much larger piece at the back…’
Robbie slid onto her lap and linked his arms around her neck. ‘Tell me about the tree!’
Cathy smiled, cuddling him close. ‘There’s an apple tree in the front garden, just below your bedroom window, and soon it will have fluffy white blossom on it and later on there will be apples which we’ll be able to pick any time we like.’
‘And no one will tell us off?’
‘No one will tell us off,’ Cathy agreed.
‘And we can pick the apples even if it’s dark?’
Cathy laughed and kissed her son’s cheek. ‘Yes, even then.’
‘I’m going to climb that tree, right to the top!’
‘We’ll see.’
A worried look flickered across Robbie’s young face. ‘And will there be friends for me to play with?’
‘Oh, yes!’ Cathy’s expression was deliberately reassuring, for she knew this was an aspect of the move which was worrying Robbie greatly. ‘There must be quite a lot of children in the village because they’ve got a lovely little school with a brand-new play area and a pond—’
‘And if I don’t like it we can come back here?’
Cathy pushed the curtain of fiery red hair back from her face and looked around the dismal kitchen, with its damp walls and cheap melamine units. If she had to endure even so much as another day in this box in the sky, then she felt she’d go stark raving mad.
She looked out of the window. From this position on the kitchen floor all she could see were grey lumpy clouds; there wasn’t a tree in sight—no buildings either, come to that. Cathy heaved a sigh. Presumably somebody somewhere had thought it clever to put people in boxes instead of houses, and stack them so high that the tenants could actually feel the building swaying in the wind, but she couldn’t for the life of her imagine why. A handy way of solving the housing problem, she supposed—except of course that living like this created more problems than it solved—far more.
Cathy thought of the graffiti and the litter and the smell which accompanied every journey to this, the twelfth floor; then she looked down at her son, snuggled on her lap. He would be able to read soon, and in no time the paint-sprayed words would begin to mean something and his sweet, mischievous innocence would be tainted before its time.
‘’Cos Dale says it’s really boring in the countryside,’ Robbie continued. ‘He says there are no shops and if you want sweets then you have to walk miles! He says—’
‘Well, when we’re settled in you can invite Dale over and show him how good the countryside really is, can’t you?’ Cathy announced, before Robbie could repeat any more of his friend’s little insights into country life. ‘Don’t worry, you’re going to absolutely love it, sweetheart,’ she told him with a cheerful smile. ‘We both are.’
Daniel turned the collar up on his jacket. Hell! It was cold. He really needed to get the heating system mended on the Land Rover; three weeks of freezing March winds was as much as he could take. He drove past the garage which looked as if it had been caught in a time warp, with its singular petrol pump and its pre-war signs advertising anything from chocolate to washing powder, and mentally vowed to book it in first thing in the morning.
It was quiet in the village this evening; several lights were shining in the row of old cottages which lined the green, but few people were braving the rain on this cold, raw evening. Damn! Must get the brakes looked at too. He pressed his foot down hard on the pedal and the Land Rover came to a halt—eventually. Daniel regarded the van which blocked the lane for a moment—a rental vehicle, by the looks of things. The back was up and there was a small quantity of furniture inside which was getting wetter by the minute. Not exactly the best of times to move house.
He glanced towards the cottage. A single bulb dangled dismally from the ceiling in the front downstairs room. He knew the house—he knew all the properties in the village. It was rather run-down, in need of a total overhaul. The place had character—provided, that was, you could overlook the rotten windowpanes and moss-covered roof, and sundry other things that were doubtless in need of repair.
He exhaled a breath, regarding the vehicle with irritation. The lane was blocked and there was clearly still a fair amount of moving in to do. He’d have to turn around and take another route, which was annoying, considering he was less than half a mile from reaching his destination.
A man appeared at that moment, hurrying down the path from the house, wearing baseball cap and worn denims and a short leather jacket which did little to protect him from the torrential rain. The youth—for he was barely twenty, Daniel saw as he came nearer—glanced across at the Land Rover and hurried over. Daniel wound down his window.
‘We’re going to be a little while yet, mate. Not much point in ’anging around.’ A hard, assessing gaze. ‘Not unless you fancy giving us an ’and, that is.’ The young man glanced back towards the house. ‘Truth is, I’m a bit lumbered here.’
‘Lumbered?’ Daniel followed his gaze, watching as another figure, dressed more appropriately in a long yellow mackintosh with hood pulled up, scurried down the path towards the van.
‘Yeah, I was let down by a mate.’ The man wiped the rain away from his eyes and turned his collar up, huddling into the inadequate protection of his jacket. ‘We’ve done most of the small stuff, but now we’ve got a bed to shift, and to be honest I don’t see how we’re going to do it.’
Daniel watched as the mackintosh-clad figure glanced towards his vehicle, then clambered up into the van and began to attempt to manoeuvre a bed towards the edge of the van.
‘Hey, don’t be stupid! You’ll do yourself an injury!’ The man’s voice rang out sharply in the damp night air. He glanced back at Daniel. ‘See what I mean?’ He swore sharply as the bed teetered dangerously, then jogged over to the van and hoisted himself up, issuing instructions in a harsh, irritated voice.
Daniel exhaled a breath, glanced around the interior of the Land Rover and retrieved a long, waxed raincoat, which had definitely seen better days, from amongst the mess and muddle in the back. It looked as if he was going to have to help, or be witness to a rain-soaked disaster that wouldn’t be fit to sleep on tonight.
The bed wasn’t particularly heavy, but it was awkward. All the more so with the seemingly willing but rather ineffectual helper in the yellow mackintosh getting in the way. Daniel lifted the bed to the edge of the van, then jumped down and helped the jacketed youth carry the item down the garden path and into the house.
The interior was gloomy, and rather cold, but far better than being out in the rain. Yellow Mackintosh led the way like a beacon of light, and between them Daniel and the other man manoeuvred the bed through the narrow hallway and up a short flight of stairs to a large bedroom with faded pink rosebuds and several large damp stains on the walls.
‘Thanks a lot. Just here will be fine.’
She sounded young and immensely grateful. Daniel wondered why the possibility of her being a woman hadn’t occurred to him before. He gave the yellow mackintosh more than a cursory glance, watching with interest as the shrouded figure pulled down the hood to reveal a riot of crazy auburn curls which were a stark and colourful contrast against the shiny yellow material.
The girl was an amazing and vibrant apparition amongst the drabness of the house. Daniel found his gaze drawn to the delicate complexion, to the flash of emerald eyes. His mouth curved with surprise and the girl’s mouth curved too, into a hesitant, shy smile. ‘This is very good of you,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t think we could have managed on our own, could we, Gary?’
‘Nah. There’s a couple more pieces.’ Gary raised questioning brows. ‘Any chance of giving us a hand with those, mate? Then I can clear out of your way with the van.’
Laura Martin
For richer, for poorerMillionaire Daniel Hamilton had found the perfect bride!Cathy was a total contrast to the social climbers he usually met. Trouble was, the hardworking, fiercely independent single mom only felt comfortable with him because she thought he was as penniless as she was!He fully intended to tell her he was one of the richest bachelors in the country–then ask her to marry him. But before he could pop the question, Cathy discovered the truth for herself. Now Daniel would have to win her trust again before he could persuade her even to consider marriage….
“It’s lovely!”
As she stepped over the threshold, Cathy glanced around the interior, puzzled disbelief marring her expression. “Is it a strain keeping up with the running costs of this place?”
“A strain?” Daniel made an effort to gather his thoughts. “No…no, I live pretty frugally….”
He should just tell her now and get it over and done with. Why was he finding it so difficult?
Daniel looked into Cathy’s sweet face. Fear—that was what it boiled down to. Fear of losing her. He knew that as soon as he revealed the extent of his wealth, things would change. Cathy was fragile, proud, defensive about her lack of money. She would look at the differences between them and think they were too wide, too vast. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want anything to spoil this wonderful beginning.
Laura Martin lives in a small Gloucestershire village in England with her husband, two children and a lively sheepdog! Laura has a great love of interior design and, together with her husband, has recently completed the renovation of their Victorian cottage. Her hobbies include gardening, the theater, music and reading, and she finds great pleasure and inspiration from walking daily in the beautiful countryside around her home.
Marrying a Millionaire
Laura Martin
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE (#u57c0a8fc-14c6-5633-88e7-269ffdcf8d6f)
CHAPTER TWO (#u5fd68035-cbf2-5d45-be18-383e6f652931)
CHAPTER THREE (#u6b6712fe-3348-5ae2-a487-ebb3c9a52d90)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE
‘MUMMY, tell me about our new house again!’
Cathy placed the last of her cooking utensils into the large cardboard box and sat back on her heels, glad of the diversion. She had been up since first light, making sure everything was organised for the move, and felt absolutely exhausted, even though it was barely three in the afternoon.
‘Well, it’s old, and it has four little windows at the front which look out onto a narrow lane, and there’s a square of grass at the front and a much larger piece at the back…’
Robbie slid onto her lap and linked his arms around her neck. ‘Tell me about the tree!’
Cathy smiled, cuddling him close. ‘There’s an apple tree in the front garden, just below your bedroom window, and soon it will have fluffy white blossom on it and later on there will be apples which we’ll be able to pick any time we like.’
‘And no one will tell us off?’
‘No one will tell us off,’ Cathy agreed.
‘And we can pick the apples even if it’s dark?’
Cathy laughed and kissed her son’s cheek. ‘Yes, even then.’
‘I’m going to climb that tree, right to the top!’
‘We’ll see.’
A worried look flickered across Robbie’s young face. ‘And will there be friends for me to play with?’
‘Oh, yes!’ Cathy’s expression was deliberately reassuring, for she knew this was an aspect of the move which was worrying Robbie greatly. ‘There must be quite a lot of children in the village because they’ve got a lovely little school with a brand-new play area and a pond—’
‘And if I don’t like it we can come back here?’
Cathy pushed the curtain of fiery red hair back from her face and looked around the dismal kitchen, with its damp walls and cheap melamine units. If she had to endure even so much as another day in this box in the sky, then she felt she’d go stark raving mad.
She looked out of the window. From this position on the kitchen floor all she could see were grey lumpy clouds; there wasn’t a tree in sight—no buildings either, come to that. Cathy heaved a sigh. Presumably somebody somewhere had thought it clever to put people in boxes instead of houses, and stack them so high that the tenants could actually feel the building swaying in the wind, but she couldn’t for the life of her imagine why. A handy way of solving the housing problem, she supposed—except of course that living like this created more problems than it solved—far more.
Cathy thought of the graffiti and the litter and the smell which accompanied every journey to this, the twelfth floor; then she looked down at her son, snuggled on her lap. He would be able to read soon, and in no time the paint-sprayed words would begin to mean something and his sweet, mischievous innocence would be tainted before its time.
‘’Cos Dale says it’s really boring in the countryside,’ Robbie continued. ‘He says there are no shops and if you want sweets then you have to walk miles! He says—’
‘Well, when we’re settled in you can invite Dale over and show him how good the countryside really is, can’t you?’ Cathy announced, before Robbie could repeat any more of his friend’s little insights into country life. ‘Don’t worry, you’re going to absolutely love it, sweetheart,’ she told him with a cheerful smile. ‘We both are.’
Daniel turned the collar up on his jacket. Hell! It was cold. He really needed to get the heating system mended on the Land Rover; three weeks of freezing March winds was as much as he could take. He drove past the garage which looked as if it had been caught in a time warp, with its singular petrol pump and its pre-war signs advertising anything from chocolate to washing powder, and mentally vowed to book it in first thing in the morning.
It was quiet in the village this evening; several lights were shining in the row of old cottages which lined the green, but few people were braving the rain on this cold, raw evening. Damn! Must get the brakes looked at too. He pressed his foot down hard on the pedal and the Land Rover came to a halt—eventually. Daniel regarded the van which blocked the lane for a moment—a rental vehicle, by the looks of things. The back was up and there was a small quantity of furniture inside which was getting wetter by the minute. Not exactly the best of times to move house.
He glanced towards the cottage. A single bulb dangled dismally from the ceiling in the front downstairs room. He knew the house—he knew all the properties in the village. It was rather run-down, in need of a total overhaul. The place had character—provided, that was, you could overlook the rotten windowpanes and moss-covered roof, and sundry other things that were doubtless in need of repair.
He exhaled a breath, regarding the vehicle with irritation. The lane was blocked and there was clearly still a fair amount of moving in to do. He’d have to turn around and take another route, which was annoying, considering he was less than half a mile from reaching his destination.
A man appeared at that moment, hurrying down the path from the house, wearing baseball cap and worn denims and a short leather jacket which did little to protect him from the torrential rain. The youth—for he was barely twenty, Daniel saw as he came nearer—glanced across at the Land Rover and hurried over. Daniel wound down his window.
‘We’re going to be a little while yet, mate. Not much point in ’anging around.’ A hard, assessing gaze. ‘Not unless you fancy giving us an ’and, that is.’ The young man glanced back towards the house. ‘Truth is, I’m a bit lumbered here.’
‘Lumbered?’ Daniel followed his gaze, watching as another figure, dressed more appropriately in a long yellow mackintosh with hood pulled up, scurried down the path towards the van.
‘Yeah, I was let down by a mate.’ The man wiped the rain away from his eyes and turned his collar up, huddling into the inadequate protection of his jacket. ‘We’ve done most of the small stuff, but now we’ve got a bed to shift, and to be honest I don’t see how we’re going to do it.’
Daniel watched as the mackintosh-clad figure glanced towards his vehicle, then clambered up into the van and began to attempt to manoeuvre a bed towards the edge of the van.
‘Hey, don’t be stupid! You’ll do yourself an injury!’ The man’s voice rang out sharply in the damp night air. He glanced back at Daniel. ‘See what I mean?’ He swore sharply as the bed teetered dangerously, then jogged over to the van and hoisted himself up, issuing instructions in a harsh, irritated voice.
Daniel exhaled a breath, glanced around the interior of the Land Rover and retrieved a long, waxed raincoat, which had definitely seen better days, from amongst the mess and muddle in the back. It looked as if he was going to have to help, or be witness to a rain-soaked disaster that wouldn’t be fit to sleep on tonight.
The bed wasn’t particularly heavy, but it was awkward. All the more so with the seemingly willing but rather ineffectual helper in the yellow mackintosh getting in the way. Daniel lifted the bed to the edge of the van, then jumped down and helped the jacketed youth carry the item down the garden path and into the house.
The interior was gloomy, and rather cold, but far better than being out in the rain. Yellow Mackintosh led the way like a beacon of light, and between them Daniel and the other man manoeuvred the bed through the narrow hallway and up a short flight of stairs to a large bedroom with faded pink rosebuds and several large damp stains on the walls.
‘Thanks a lot. Just here will be fine.’
She sounded young and immensely grateful. Daniel wondered why the possibility of her being a woman hadn’t occurred to him before. He gave the yellow mackintosh more than a cursory glance, watching with interest as the shrouded figure pulled down the hood to reveal a riot of crazy auburn curls which were a stark and colourful contrast against the shiny yellow material.
The girl was an amazing and vibrant apparition amongst the drabness of the house. Daniel found his gaze drawn to the delicate complexion, to the flash of emerald eyes. His mouth curved with surprise and the girl’s mouth curved too, into a hesitant, shy smile. ‘This is very good of you,’ she murmured. ‘I don’t think we could have managed on our own, could we, Gary?’
‘Nah. There’s a couple more pieces.’ Gary raised questioning brows. ‘Any chance of giving us a hand with those, mate? Then I can clear out of your way with the van.’
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