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“I’ve decided I want to get married again,” he began.
“But that’s great!” his friend proclaimed. “I didn’t realise you were seeing someone.”
“I’m not. But I hope to be soon, once you put me in touch with the woman who runs Wives Wanted.”
Reece’s mouth dropped open before snapping shut again. “But you didn’t approve when I told you about that.”
“I was surprised, that’s all.” A reasonable reaction, in Richard’s opinion. Reece was not the sort of man one would ever imagine using an introduction agency. His confession to his best man and groomsman just before his wedding last year that he’d found his beautiful new bride via an internet website had come as a shock.
The agency was called Wives Wanted, its aim being to match professional men with the kind of women lots of them wanted to marry, especially those of the “once bitten, twice shy” brigade. Apparently, its database was chock-full of attractive women who were only interested in one career. Marriage. Women whose priority was not necessarily romantic love, but security and commitment.
A lot of them had had previous marriages, or relationships, that had failed to deliver what they wanted in life. Some were currently career girls, but were prepared to relegate their careers to the back seat, for the right man.
“It was Mike who didn’t approve,” Richard pointed out. “But don’t forget, he hadn’t met Alanna at that stage.”
Thankfully, Richard had stopped Mike from repeating to Reece at the reception that he thought all women who put themselves out like that were nothing but cold-blooded gold-diggers, looking for a gravy train to ride. He’d voiced that opinion to Richard, however. More than once.
But no one who got to know Reece’s wife would believe such a thing of her.
Richard had initially been stunned when Reece had confessed that he’d found his lovely Alanna through this agency. He’d presumed Reece had met her socially. After all, he had a very active social life. A man of his looks and position could have had his pick of women.
When Richard had asked him outright at the wedding reception why he’d gone to an introduction agency, Reece’s reply had been very to the point, and extremely pragmatic.
“It was a question of time. I wanted a wife and a family, but I didn’t want to be bothered with a traditional courtship. Far too lengthy a process. Whenever I want a property with certain requirements, I get my PA to narrow the field down for me before I look personally. I approached finding a wife the same way. I gave Wives Wanted a list of my requirements and they selected several suitable candidates for me to view via the internet. I chose three who appealed to me. I only had to date each one once and I knew straight away which girl I would marry.”
Richard recalled naïvely asking Reece if it was a case of love at first sight, at which Mike had laughed.
“Reece isn’t interested in love any more,” Mike had drily informed him. “Not after that other bitch did the dirty on him. Isn’t that right, Reece?”
Reece had confirmed that love certainly hadn’t come into the equation, on either side, although he claimed he wouldn’t have married Alanna without some sexual chemistry between them.
Some sexual chemistry?
Richard still considered this a rather outrageous understatement. He’d had several opportunities to observe Reece and Alanna together, both before and after their wedding. To his eyes, the sexual chemistry between them was quite electric, especially on Reece’s part.
Richard had noted at a recent dinner party he’d attended at the Diamonds’ place that Reece had spent an inordinate amount of time watching his beautiful wife talking to the male guest sitting next to her.
Admittedly, Alanna had looked extra stunning that night in a clinging white satin gown that made the most of her physical assets. There hadn’t been a man sitting at that table who hadn’t found his eyes coming back to her all the time, himself included.
Richard thought it was just as well that ethereal-looking blondes with porcelain skin, pale green eyes and tall, willowy figures didn’t overly stir his male hormones. He preferred the more earthy kind of women, with stronger colouring and lush bodies.
Joanna had had black hair, black eyes and a voluptuous figure.
Not that Richard wanted to marry some clone of Joanna. Hell, no. He wanted the second Mrs Richard Crawford to be as far removed from the first as a woman could be. In personality and character, that was. Physically, he’d always been attracted to brunettes with curves. He knew, when he eventually studied the Wives Wanted database, he wouldn’t be selecting any skinny blondes.
“Are you absolutely sure about this?” Reece asked him.
“Absolutely.”
“I presume you’re not looking for love, then.”
“You presume correctly.”
“You want a marriage of convenience. Like mine.”
“Yes.”
Reece frowned. “I’m not sure you’re cut out for a relationship like that, Rich. You’re a bit of a romantic at heart.”
“Not any more, I’m not.”
Richard wished he hadn’t sounded quite so bitter. Reece looked startled. As well he might. Reece knew nothing about Joanna’s betrayal. Men, even the closest of friends, didn’t tell each other things like that.
“I’ve made up my mind about this,” Richard stated firmly.
“Can I ask why?” Reece probed.
“It’s not rocket science, my friend. Just the need for companionship. And some regular sex.”
“You could get that from a girlfriend.”
“I don’t want a girlfriend. I want a wife.”
“Aah, I get the picture. It’s because of the bank. Your position as CEO would be consolidated if you were married.”
Now it was Richard’s turn to be startled. “It has nothing whatsoever to do with the bank. I simply want to be married. I want what you’ve got, Reece. A good-looking woman who’s happy to be my wife, and to have my child.”
“I didn’t realise you wanted a family.”
“Why on earth would you think that?”
Reece shrugged. “You were married to Joanna for two years, more than enough time to have a baby.”
“That was not my doing,” Richard informed his friend, doing his best not to sound cold.
Reece still frowned. “I thought you were happy with Joanna…”
“I was,” he said truthfully enough. His unhappiness hadn’t begun till after she’d died. “I was mad about her. But she’s gone, and I’m here and I’m lonely, all right? I want a woman in my life. What I don’t want, however, is romance. I’ve been there, done that.”
Reece nodded. “Yes, I can understand where you’re coming from.”
“You should. I know how you felt about Kristine. Which is why you went to Wives Wanted in the first place. Because you were still in love with her.”
“The way you still are with Joanna.”
Richard didn’t deny it. If he had, he might have had to explain.
“Now that that’s all settled, I’m going back inside to have another look at my fabulous new penthouse,” he said, scraping back his chair and standing up. “Which reminds me. Can I move in before contracts are exchanged?”
“Move in today, if you like.”
Richard was not an impulsive man by nature but, today, things were a-changing. “You know what? I think I will.”
CHAPTER ONE
HOLLY glared for the umpteenth time at the FOR SALE sign that had been taped on the shop window less than half an hour earlier. Fury and indignation warred inside her swirling stomach and whirling head.
How dared her stepmother do this? How dared she?
A Flower A Day was at least half hers by rights. She should have been consulted. Should have been considered.
But any consideration for her feelings had clearly ended with her father’s death. Any hope of his beloved business one day being hers had died with him.
She’d been stupid to stay on. Especially stupid to work for such a pathetic salary, considering she managed the shop now, and did the books as well. Every Sunday, no less. Her day off!
Heck, Sara took home almost as much money as she did. And Sara only worked from Wednesday till Saturday as a casual. Sure, Sara was an excellent florist with loads of experience but Holly was every bit as experienced. She might only be twenty-six but she’d been working with flowers all her life. Her dad had started training her to be a florist when she’d been knee-high to a grasshopper. She’d joined him in the shop soon after her fifteenth birthday.
Holly’s heart twisted as she remembered how happy they’d been back then. Just her and her dad.
And then Connie had come along.
Holly hadn’t realised till after her dad had died two years back what kind of woman her stepmother was. Connie had been very clever during the eight years she’d been the second Mrs Greenaway.
But Holly had certainly known within weeks of her dad marrying the attractive divorcee that her stepsister was a nasty piece of work. Jealous, spiteful and devious. Unfortunately, Katie had been equally clever with her new stepfather as his new wife had.
Butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth around him.
Holly bitterly resented the money Connie and Katie had wheedled out of her dad. Only the fact that he’d seemed happy had made her stay silent over the vicious things Katie had said to her in private.
Of course, after her dad had died, all gloves had been off. Connie had begun showing her true colours and Katie…well, Katie had gone from bad to worse.
Holly knew she should have moved out of their lives altogether right then and there, but she just couldn’t bear to part company with her dad’s flower shop. She still felt close to him there. So she’d moved into the flat above the shop and set about getting A Flower A Day back on track.
Business had fallen right off after her father’s stroke, Holly having been so upset that she’d had to close the shop for a while. It had taken over a year to get all his old clients back and to start making a profit. Not that A Flower A Day would ever be a great money-making concern. Strip shopping wasn’t very successful these days. The malls had taken over.
The shop and the flat, however, were still worth good money, despite being ancient and not in the best of condition. Probably over a million. More if someone bought it as a business, along with the goodwill.
Holly glowered at the FOR SALE sign one more time. She’d been crazy to work so hard for so little when she’d known, deep down, that the only ones who would reap the rewards were Connie and the obnoxious Katie. Unfortunately, her father had left his wife everything in his will, made soon after they’d been married when Holly had only been sixteen. He’d relied on Connie to look after his daughter. But the merry widow had had other plans.
So had her rotten daughter…
But Holly didn’t want to think about that. She’d thought about what had happened over Christmas far too much already.
If Dave had really loved her, Katie would not have been able to steal him. But she had. She was even going to marry him. That should have been the final straw for Holly but, strangely enough, it hadn’t been.
The final straw was that FOR SALE sign.
Holly decided then and there that she’d played Cinderella long enough. The time had come for some major changes and major decisions. She knew she’d be very sad to walk away from her dad’s pride and joy, but it had to be done. Because it wasn’t going to be her pride and joy for much longer. It would soon belong to someone else.
“I’m just ducking down to the station, Sara,” she said crisply. “I need this morning’s Herald.”
Sara glanced up from where she was finishing an exquisite table setting of pink carnations. It was for a local lady who was a pink addict.
“Looking for a new job?” Sara said.
“Absolutely.”
“About time,” Sara muttered.
A very attractive redhead in her midthirties, Sara had seen plenty of living and did not suffer fools gladly. She’d long expressed the opinion that Holly should strike out on her own.
“You’re right,” Holly agreed. “I’ll be looking for a new place to live as well.”
Sydney’s Saturday morning Herald was always chock-full of job and flat-share advertisements. Holly had actually looked before; a few weeks ago, after Dave had left her for Katie. She just hadn’t had the courage at that stage to totally change her life, and to leave everything that was so familiar to her.
But she’d found the courage now.
Sara smiled her approval. “Atta girl. And don’t you go worrying about me. As soon as you’re out of here, so am I. I wouldn’t work for that cow Connie if this was the last flower shop in Sydney.”
“She is a cow, isn’t she?”
“Of the highest order. And so’s the daughter. For what it’s worth, Katie deserves Dave. I was pleased as Punch the day you got rid of him.”
“Er…he dumped me, Sara.”
“Only good thing he ever did for you. Now you can find yourself a really nice bloke, someone who’ll appreciate your qualities.”
“Thanks for the compliment, Sara, but really nice blokes are hard to find. They certainly haven’t been thick on the ground in my life. Dave’s not the first loser boyfriend I’ve had. I seem to attract the fickle, faithless type.”
“Go get yourself a job in the city, love. Where the suits are.”
“Suits?”
“You know. Men in suits. Executive types. I used to work at a flower stall in Market Place. There was an endless parade of male eye candy walking by there, I can tell you. Talk about yummy.”
“Yes, but does wearing a suit to work equate with being a nice bloke?”
“Nope. But it often equates with money. Might as well fall for a rich guy as a poor guy.”
“You didn’t.” Sara was married to a man who worked on the railways.
“Yes, well, I’m a romantic fool.”
“I’m a romantic fool as well.”
Sara pulled a face. “Yeah. Most of us girls are. Oh well, you’d better go get that Herald before they’re all gone.”
Holly bought the last paper in the newsagent’s and hurried back to study the classifieds between customers, but the news was disappointing. There weren’t very many jobs for florists advertised that weekend. And only two in the city. As for sharing a flat…
