Marriage On Command. Lindsay Armstrong

looked down at her jeans and boots with a grimace, but then remembered her shopping bags and ran through to the lounge to retrieve them.

      The dress she’d bought was uncrushable, which was fortunate because she’d forgotten to hang it up. And as she carried it through to the spare bedroom, along with the shoes, make-up and underwear she’d purchased, she decided that in this dress there was no reason for her not to give any number of striking, professional women a run for their money—despite her chosen career being that of a landscape gardener.

      She paused at the thought of her career and swallowed suddenly as Cosmo Delaney swam into her mind’s eye. The surprise acquisition of Plover Park had provided her with the means not only to help her grandparents but also to make the dream of a lifetime start to come true. She and her grandfather had not only been able to maintain the nursery so that a good income was coming in, but she’d also received two commissions to design gardens. She closed her eyes at the thought of losing it all, and reminded herself that was why she was here in Damien Moore’s apartment.

      But that posed a question. Was she really prepared to marry Damien Moore to hang on to Cyril Delaney’s bequest?

      She sank down on to the bed with her dress in her arms. And where did this tall, dark, striking woman who stored her clothes in his spare bedroom fit in with his proposal to move to Plover Park?

      An hour later, she was ready.

      Her hair, on Sally’s advice, was up in an elegant twist. The dress fitted like a glove. Her lips were painted to match her nails, and all in all it was a startling metamorphosis from the girl who had sat down to lunch with Damien Moore earlier in the day. She wondered, with a tinge of acerbity, what he would make of her transformation.

      She only had to wait a few minutes before his key turned in the lock…