A Perfect Husband. Fiona Brand

       “Give that back.”

      Lilah made a lunge for the pad. Zane evaded her reach.

      “Why do you need it so badly?”

      “Those sketches are … private.”

      He handed her the pad, but used it to draw her closer.

      The relief that had spiraled through her when she thought he hadn’t checked out the drawings dissolved. “You looked.”

      “Uh-huh.” He drew her close enough that her thighs brushed his and the sketch pad, which she was clutching like a shield, was flattened between them.

      “And you would be drawing and painting me because …?”

      Lilah briefly closed her eyes. “You saw the painting in my apartment.”

      “Because then you could avoid admitting that you’re attracted to me. And have been ever since we met two years ago.”

      Gently, he eased the sketch pad from her grip. “You don’t need that anymore.” He tossed the pad aside. “Not when you have the real thing.”

      Dear Reader,

      The final story of THE PEARL HOUSE trilogy centers on two people who have deep issues with relationships and wildly opposing agendas. Both Lilah Cole and Zane Atraeus are a little extreme by nature, but with some very likable quirks.

      Desperate to escape the embarrassment and undeserved notoriety of being her billionaire boss’s dumped date, all Lilah wants is to put that mistake behind her and get back on track with achieving her five-year marriage plan. Until she runs headlong into the object of her secret fantasies for the past two years, the dark and dangerously unreliable Zane Atraeus.

      As powerfully attracted as Zane is to Lilah, he has trust issues with women who are on the hunt for well-heeled husbands, although he is fascinated and drawn by her methodical approach and, actually, just can’t seem to leave her alone.

      Short term is Zane’s middle name, but as time goes by, he finds himself wanting to convince Lilah that, despite his terrible track record with commitment, he just could be the perfect man for her …

      I hope you find when you read it, that I really did have the most fun writing Lilah and Zane!

       Fiona

      About the Author

      FIONA BRAND lives in the sunny Bay of Islands, New Zealand. Now that both her sons are grown, she continues to love writing books and gardening. After a life-changing time in which she met Christ, she has undertaken study for a bachelor of theology and has become a member of The Order of St Luke, Christ’s healing ministry.

      A Perfect

       Husband

      Fiona Brand

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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      For the Lord. Thank you.

      Each of the gates is a single pearl, and the street of the

      city is pure gold, transparent as glass.

      —Revelation 21:21

      One

      Dark hair twisted in a sleek, classic knot … Exotic eyes the shifting colors of the sea … A delicate curvy body that made him burn from the inside out …

      A sharp rapping on the door of his Sydney hotel suite jerked Zane Atraeus out of a restless, dream-tossed sleep. Shielding his eyes from the glare of the morning sun, he shoved free of the huge silk-draped confection of a bed he’d collapsed into some time short of four that morning.

      Pulling on the jeans he’d tossed over a chair, he dragged jet-lagged fingers through his tangled hair and padded to the door.

      Memory punched back. An email Zane had found confirming that his half brother Lucas had purchased an engagement ring for a woman Zane could have sworn Lucas barely knew. Lilah Cole: the woman Zane had secretly wanted for two years and had denied himself.

      His temper, which had been running on a short fuse ever since he had learned that not only was Lucas dating Lilah, he was planning on marrying her, ignited as he took in glittering chandeliers and turquoise-and-gold furnishings.

      The overstuffed opulence was a far cry from the exotic but spare Mediterranean decor of his island home, Medinos. Instead of soothing him, the antiques and heavily swagged drapes only served to remind him that he had not been born to any of this. He would have to have a word with his new personal assistant, who clearly had a romantic streak.

      Halfway across the sitting room the unmistakable sound of the front door lock disengaging made him stiffen.

      Lucas Atraeus stepped into the room. Zane let out a self-deprecating breath.

      Ten years ago, in L.A., it would have been someone breaking in, but this was Australia and his father’s company, the mega wealthy Atraeus Group, owned the hotel so, of course, Lucas had gotten a key. “Ever heard of a phone?”

      Closing the door behind him, Lucas tossed a key card down on the hall table. “I phoned, you didn’t answer. Remember Lilah?”

      The reason Zane was in Sydney instead of in Florida doing his job as the company “fixer” and closing a crucial land deal that had balanced on a knife’s edge for the past week? “Your new fiancée.” The tantalizing beauty who had almost snared him into a reckless night of passion two years ago. “Yeah, I remember.”

      Lucas looked annoyed. “I haven’t asked her yet. How did you find out?”

      Zane’s jaw tightened at the confirmation. “My new P.A. was your old P.A., remember?” Which was why Zane had chanced across the internet receipt for Lucas’s latest purchase. Apparently Elena was still performing the role of personal shopper for his brother in her spare time.

      “Ahh. Elena.” He glanced around the room. Comprehension gleamed in his eyes.

      Now definitely in a bad mood, Zane turned on his heel and strolled in the direction of the suite’s kitchenette. A large ornately gilded mirror threw his reflection back at him—darkly tanned skin, broad shoulders and a lean, muscled torso bisected by a tracery of scars. Three silver studs, the reminder of a misspent youth, glinted in one ear.

      In the lavish elegance of the suite, he looked uncivilized, barbaric and faintly sinister, as different from his two classically handsome half brothers as the proverbial chalk was from cheese. Not something he had ever been able to help with the genes he’d inherited from the rough Salvatore side of his family, and the inner scars he had developed as a homeless kid roaming the streets of L.A.

      He found a glass, filled it with water from the dispenser in the fridge door and drank in long, smooth swallows. The cold water failed