Gift-Wrapped In Her Wedding Dress. Kandy Shepherd
Читать онлайн.| Название | Gift-Wrapped In Her Wedding Dress |
|---|---|
| Автор произведения | Kandy Shepherd |
| Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
| Серия | Mills & Boon Cherish |
| Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
| Год выпуска | 0 |
| isbn | 9781474002585 |
‘Do it,’ she said, pointing to the floor. ‘The full down-on-bended-knee thing.’
‘Seriously?’ he said, dark brows raised.
‘Yes,’ she said imperiously. He grinned. ‘Okay.’
The tall, denim-clad hunk obediently knelt down on one knee, took her right hand in both of his and looked up into her face. ‘Andie, will you do me the honour of becoming my fake fiancée?’ he intoned, in that deep, so-sexy voice.
Looking down at his roughly handsome face, Andie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘Yes, I accept your proposal,’ she said, in a voice that wasn’t quite steady.
Dominic squeezed her hand hard as relief flooded his face. He got up from bended knee, and for a moment she thought he might kiss her …
Gift-Wrapped
in Her
Wedding Dress
Kandy Shepherd
KANDY SHEPHERD swapped a career as a magazine editor for a life writing romance. She lives on a small farm in the Blue Mountains near Sydney, Australia, with her husband, daughter and lots of pets. She believes in love at first sight and real-life romance—they worked for her! Kandy loves to hear from her readers. Visit her at www.kandyshepherd.com.
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To all my Christmas magazine colleagues, in particular Helen, Adriana and Jane—the magic of the season lives on!
Contents
SO HE’D GOT on the wrong side of the media. Again. Dominic’s words, twisted out of all recognition, were all over newspapers, television and social media.
Billionaire businessman Dominic Hunt refuses to sleep out with other CEOs in charity event for homeless.
Dominic slammed his fist on his desk so hard the pain juddered all the way up his arm. He hadn’t refused to support the charity in their Christmas appeal, just refused the invitation to publicly bed down for the night in a cardboard box on the forecourt of the Sydney Opera House. His donation to the worthy cause had been significant—but anonymous. Why wasn’t that enough?
He buried his head in his hands. For a harrowing time in his life there had been no choice for him but to sleep rough for real, a cardboard box his only bed. He couldn’t go there again—not even for a charity stunt, no matter how worthy. There could be no explanation—he would not share the secrets of his past. Ever.
With a sick feeling of dread he continued to read onscreen the highlights of the recent flurry of negative press about him and his company, thoughtfully compiled in a report by his Director of Marketing.
Predictably, the reporters had then gone on to rehash his well-known aversion to Christmas. Again he’d been misquoted. It was true he loathed the whole idea of celebrating Christmas. But not for the reasons the media had so fancifully contrived. Not because he was a Scrooge. How he hated that label and the erroneous aspersions that he didn’t ever give to charity. Despaired that he was included in a round-up of Australia’s Multi-Million-Dollar Misers. It couldn’t be further from the truth.
He strongly believed that giving money to worthy causes should be conducted in private—not for public acclaim. But this time he couldn’t ignore the name-calling and innuendo. He was near to closing a game-changing