He stared at the tiny scrap of lingerie in his hand …
… and pictured Kenna wearing nothing more than the soft lace—an image that was arousing and unnerving.
Daniel was intimately acquainted with women’s lingerie. He knew the difference between a G-string and a thong, appreciated the effect of a push-up bra.
He wouldn’t mind seeing what Kenna looked like in one … and then out of it.
“Stay out of my underwear drawer.”
He looked at Kenna and grinned. “I never gave much thought to getting into it … until a moment ago.”
“Well, stop. Just because I’m your wife doesn’t mean I’m going to get naked with you. You set the terms,” she reminded him. “A one-year marriage on paper only.”
Obviously not a well thought-out plan, he realized.
“What if I want to renegotiate?” he asked.
“Not going to happen.”
He took a step closer, deliberately invading her personal space. “You know I can’t resist a challenge.”
* * *
Those Engaging Garretts! The Carolina Cousins
A Wife for
One Year
Brenda Harlen
BRENDA HARLEN is a former family law attorney turned work-at-home mom and national bestselling author who has written more than twenty books for Mills & Boon. Her work has been validated by industry awards (including an RWA Golden Heart Award and the RT Book Reviews Reviewers’ Choice Award) and by the fact that her kids think it’s cool that she’s “a real author.”
Brenda lives in southern Ontario with her husband and two sons. When she isn’t at the computer working on her next book, she can probably be found at the arena, watching a hockey game. Keep up to date with Brenda on Facebook, follow her on Twitter at @BrendaHarlen, or send her an e-mail at [email protected].
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To my husband of twenty years:
Thanks for all of your love, support and encouragement over the past two decades—and especially for your patience and understanding when other (fictional!) men become the focus
of my attention as I work toward deadlines…
Contents
Life was all about trade-offs, Kenna Scott realized as she made her way through the corridors of Hillfield Academy, the private school she’d transferred to three weeks earlier. Her high marks had won her a scholarship to the prestigious school, but her secondhand uniform, scuffed shoes and ancient backpack still marked her as a “charity case” to her fellow students.
There was no hiding the fact that she was from the wrong part of town, where she lived in the erroneously named “Royal Towers”—a three-story apartment building with rusted balconies, cracked sidewalks and a landlord who sold dime bags in the back of the parking lot. Even working two jobs, it was the best her mother could provide for them, and putting food on the table for three kids without a penny from any of their good-for-nothing fathers wasn’t easy.
So Kenna didn’t expect anything to come easy for