She’s marrying her billionaire boss…for a green card
All work and no play for reasons he won’t talk about, CEO Warren Garinger keeps his company at the top. And he needs his ace marketing consultant, Australian Tilda Barrett, to stay in the States despite an immigration mix-up. His solution: a marriage in name only. New problem: beneath Tilda’s staid suits and severe buns lies the sexiest woman he’s ever met. Now their brief wedding kiss is all he can think about and Warren vows to not only marry his convenient wife but bed her, too…
Her new husband was looking at her as if she were a fascinating, maddening mix of temptress and puritan.
“We’re dancing around some things,” Warren said. “And we need to settle it. I just want to have an honest conversation with you.”
“Me, too,” she said. “I didn’t know what to say after leading you on, so it seemed easier to stay away from you.”
His brows lifted but he schooled his expression quickly. “You didn’t lead me on. I went too far and you have every right to call a halt to something that was making you uncomfortable.”
That was so much the opposite of what she’d expected him to say that she blinked.
“But I asked you to kiss me.” And oh God, had she wanted him to.
“I don’t care if you asked me to strip you naked and put my tongue between your legs. You’re allowed to say stop at any time. I will always honor that, Tilda.”
She could barely tell him to stop at all.
* * *
Contract Bride
is part of the In Name Only trilogy:
“I do” should solve all their problems,
but love has other plans...
Contract Bride
Kat Cantrell
USA TODAY bestselling author KAT CANTRELL read her first Mills & Boon novel in third grade and has been scribbling in notebooks since she learned to spell. She’s a Harlequin So You Think You Can Write winner and a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart® Award finalist. Kat, her husband and their two boys live in north Texas.
Contents
Women must have some kind of manual they passed around to each other, opened to the section labeled “How to Dump a Man.”
If so, it would explain why for a record fourth time in a row, Warren Garinger had received the same text message: You’re the world’s worst workaholic. I hope you and your company will be very happy together.
He didn’t think the women meant it as a compliment. Nor did they understand what it took to run a billion-dollar conglomerate. The Garinger family bottled and sold nearly half the world’s pick-me-ups. You couldn’t escape the logo for Flying Squirrel, the number one energy drink, no matter where you looked.
Women did not appreciate the effort that had gone into that kind of success.
Tilda popped her head into his office. “Got a minute?”
Except that one. He nodded instantly.
Tilda Barrett was the one woman he always had time for. Partly because he liked her Australian accent more than he should. “Sure. Come on in.”
But mostly Warren liked Tilda because, as his marketing consultant, she’d exceeded his expectations. And that was saying something. His expectations were always sky-high, for himself and for everyone in his orbit. Flying Squirrel wasn’t performing as well in the Australian market as he’d like, and Tilda was changing that. Slowly but surely.
“I saw the numbers on the new campaign. They’re promising,” he said, as Tilda strode into his bright corner office overlooking downtown Raleigh. Of course, he rarely glanced out the window unless he needed to gauge the weather in advance of a sporting event Flying Squirrel had sponsored.
Today was no exception. Tilda commanded his attention easily, both because of her professional role and because of the one she played in his head. Yeah, he’d had a fantasy or two starring Tilda Barrett, and he refused to be ashamed that he’d noticed she was very feminine beneath her buttoned-up exterior.
Not one strand of swept-up hair dared escape her severe hairstyle and, not for the first time, he wondered what would happen if it did. Most likely, her sheer will would tame it back into submission. She was the most hard-core professional woman he’d ever met. They got on famously.
“The numbers could be better,” she countered. Nothing ever satisfied her save absolute domination, and the fact that she was on his team made him downright gleeful.
Tilda took the straight-backed chair to the right of his desk, as was her custom when they had briefings. The company’s main competitor, Down Under Thunder, owned the Australian market, and Tilda’s strategic expertise filled a gap in Warren’s roster that he’d been thus far unable to bridge any other way.
“But that’s not why I’m here,” she said—and hesitated.
Tilda never hesitated.