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On Temporary Terms
Janice Maynard
Sometimes keeping things strictly business isn’t an option…There’s a new bachelor in town knocking Abby Hartman off her game. Scotsman Duncan Stewart, her client’s grandson, should be off-limits – but certainly a brief, mind-blowing affair wouldn’t be too terrible…
When keeping things strictly business isn’t an option
Keeping secrets is the only one!
There’s a new bachelor in town, knocking lawyer Abby Hartman off her game. Scotsman Duncan Stewart, her client’s sexy grandson, should be off-limits—but certainly a brief, mind-blowing affair wouldn’t be too terrible. Things heat up...way too fast. And when a family crisis reveals Abby’s true identity, they must choose between keeping their fling temporary or making a permanent merger!
USA TODAY bestselling author JANICE MAYNARD loved books and writing even as a child. But it took multiple rejections before she sold her first manuscript. Since 2002, she has written over forty-five books and novellas. Janice lives in east Tennessee with her husband, Charles. They love hiking, traveling and spending time with family.
You can connect with Janice at
www.janicemaynard.com (http://www.janicemaynard.com)
Twitter.com/janicemaynard (http://www.Twitter.com/janicemaynard)
Facebook.com/janicemaynardreaderpage (http://www.Facebook.com/janicemaynardreaderpage)
Facebook.com/janicesmaynard (http://www.Facebook.com/janicemaynard)
and Instagram.com/janicemaynard (http://www.Instagram.com/janicemaynard).
Also by Janice Maynard (#ua6ff186d-e259-57f9-8317-194b78bc74de)
A Not-So-Innocent Seduction
Baby for Keeps
Christmas in the Billionaire’s Bed
Twins on the Way
Second Chance with the Billionaire
How to Sleep with the Boss
For Baby’s Sake
His Heir, Her Secret
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
On Temporary Terms
Janice Maynard
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-07661-6
ON TEMPORARY TERMS
© 2018 Janice Maynard
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For everyone whose childhood
was not storybook perfect.
For everyone whose parents were
embarrassing or hurtful or not present at all.
May you find love and acceptance in other
relationships and know that you are not
defined by the difficulties and struggles
of the past. God bless…
Contents
Cover (#u606fc72c-9ea8-5fab-939a-06451d4e474b)
Back Cover Text (#u2297e492-6805-560f-90a6-a47e0b2ffd59)
About the Author (#u4600164d-ee68-56a9-82b8-4f6ebd823779)
Booklist (#ufa1a764c-aeb9-5973-8eaa-1e63c3d9c547)
Title Page (#u5d28c6b0-eeab-5a06-82bd-10fb26964757)
Copyright (#ucf359e7f-b3ba-5444-91d5-d8b615281331)
Dedication (#u8576194d-af19-5b94-8dfa-8bd135956674)
One (#udd3e193f-b493-5659-a494-f35639160a4f)
Two (#u4b79ca0b-5d19-55a6-a4f2-d569be6f5cf4)
Three (#u24ec7eca-b100-5dba-95ab-81ff8e6ea4a2)
Four (#u1c930c21-cf37-5d21-9129-dc76aeda0d7d)
Five (#ud8af50fa-fc4f-5cb4-b890-e2d89f60afd4)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#ua6ff186d-e259-57f9-8317-194b78bc74de)
Abby Hartmann liked her job most days. Being a small-town lawyer included more good weeks than bad. But on this particular Saturday morning—the dreaded once-a-month half day—things were definitely looking up. With her palms damp and her heartbeat fluttering, she smoothed her skirt and waved a hand toward the wingbacked chair opposite her large cherry desk. “Have a seat, Mr. Stewart.”
She straightened a few papers and folders, and took a deep breath. The man whose sheer presence shrank the square footage of her office was a commanding figure. Close-cropped dark brown hair. Deep chocolate eyes. A lean, athletic body. And a stillness about him. An intensity. As if at any moment he could leap across the small space separating them, grab her up and kiss her witless. He seemed almost dangerous, which made no sense at all. Maybe it was the quivering physical awareness making her restless.
Her reaction was disconcerting. Just because the guy had a sexy Scottish accent and a seriously hot body was no reason to lose her composure. Besides, no matter how attractive, the Scotsman embodied the rich, entitled male arrogance that set her teeth on edge. She’d met dozens like him, albeit not Scottish. Men who took what they wanted and didn’t mind who they left behind in the dust.
Duncan Stewart seemed uncomfortable as well, but perhaps for a different reason. “I’m not sure why I’m here,” he said. “My grandmother likes to be mysterious at times.”
Abby managed a smile, though she was entirely off her game. “Isobel Stewart is an original, that’s for sure. It’s no big secret. She’s updated her will and wanted me to go over it with you. Do you mind my asking why you’ve decided to relocate from Scotland to North Carolina?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’d have thought that was obvious. Granny is well past ninety. Grandda has been gone almost a year now. You know my brother, Brody, has a new wife and baby, and they’ve moved back to Skye.”
“I had heard that. Your sister-in-law owned the bookstore down the street, Dog-Eared Pages—right?”
“Aye. Since none of us have been successful in persuading Granny to sell out and leave Candlewick, somebody has to be here to look after her.”
“That’s astonishingly generous on your part, Mr. Stewart. Not many men I know, young or old, would put their lives on hold for their grandmothers.”
* * *
Duncan couldn’t decide if the odd note in the lawyer’s voice was admiration or sarcasm. “I didn’t really have a choice,” he said. His reluctance to play a part in this drama shamed him. Still, he was going to do the right thing. It didn’t mean he was comfortable with the lawyer’s praise. The woman sitting across the desk from him seemed harmless, but he would be in no rush to trust her. He didn’t have a very high opinion of solicitors in general, or of the entire legal profession for that matter. He’d seen too much nastiness during his parents’ divorce.
Abby Hartmann stared at him. “Everyone has choices, Mr. Stewart. In some instances, I might think you were in it for the money, but your grandmother has told me more than I ever needed to know about you and your brother. I’m aware that you’re extremely comfortable financially with or without your share in Stewart Properties.”
Duncan winced. “I’m guessing she also told you our father isn’t getting a dime, and she made it sound like a big deal.”
Abby gave him a small smile and nodded. “She might have mentioned it in passing. I Googled him. Your dad has a dozen thriving art galleries all over Great Britain, right? I doubt he cares about his mother’s money.”
“He and Granny have a complicated relationship. It works best when they both live on different continents.”
The lawyer grimaced, her face shadowed for a moment. “I can certainly understand that.”
Though Duncan had not wanted to come here today, he found himself willing to prolong the conversation for no other reason than to enjoy the lawyer’s company. He’d been expecting a middle-aged woman in a gray suit and glasses with precise opinions and tightly controlled behaviors. What he’d found instead was a barely five-foot-three curvy bombshell.
Maybe he had formed too many opinions of female solicitors from television and movies, but Abby Hartmann broke the mold. According to the diplomas on the wall behind her head, she appeared to be in her late twenties. She was warm and appealing, and nothing about her was rigid. Her hair was chin length and wildly curly, neither red nor blond, but an appealing amalgam of both.
She wore a black knee-length pencil skirt that showcased a rounded ass and beautiful legs that were now hidden beneath her desk. The buttons on her red shirt struggled to contain her stellar breasts. In fact, Duncan had a difficult time keeping his eyes off that tantalizing sight.
He wasn’t a Neanderthal. He respected women. Still, holy hell. Abby Hartmann was stacked. Her attire was not provocative. She had left only the first two buttons of her top undone. A tiny gold cross dangled at the upper slopes of her breasts. But that cleavage...
Moving restlessly, he cleared his throat and wished he hadn’t declined the bottle of water she had offered him earlier. “I love my grandmother, Ms. Hartmann. She and my grandfather built Stewart Properties from the ground up. In her eyes, it keeps him alive.”
“Call me Abby, please. She told me your grandfather chose to change his surname to her maiden name in order to keep the Stewart clan name going. That’s pretty extraordinary, don’t you think? Particularly for a man of his generation?”
Duncan shrugged. “They had a grand love affair, one of those you read about in books. He adored her and vice versa. From his point of view, she gave up everything for him—her family, her homeland. I suppose it was his way of saying he wanted her to have something in return.”
“I think it’s lovely.”
“But?”
“I didn’t say but...”
Duncan grinned. “I’m pretty sure I heard a but coming.”
