The Boss's Stolen Bride, page 1
“What gives you the right to turn up where you were never invited? All because I dared to walk out on you?”
Darcie rose on tiptoe to slam her truth right into his face. “There was never going to be a good time to leave you. There is always some imperative deal you’re working on, you’re always pushing for more.” Part of her admired him for that. She’d learned from him.
Defeat swelled within her. Overwhelming, horrific defeat that brought forth bitter blame as the implications sank in. Her application to care for Lily would have to be delayed. Lily who was so little, so lost, so lonely—Lily who mattered more than anything.
“You can’t think about anyone beyond yourself,” she berated Elias. “It is always about everything you want and need and it always has to be right now. Well, I have wants and needs too, and I needed to get married. Today.”
“If that’s the case, then let me fix the problem I’ve created.” He seethed wildly. “You need to get married today? Then fine. You can marry me.”
USA TODAY bestselling author Natalie Anderson writes emotional contemporary romance full of sparkling banter, sizzling heat and uplifting endings—perfect for readers who love to escape with empowered heroines and arrogant alphas who are too sexy for their own good. When she’s not writing, you’ll find Natalie wrangling her four children, three cats, two goldfish and one dog...and snuggled in a heap on the sofa with her husband at the end of the day. Follow her at natalie-anderson.com.
Books by Natalie Anderson
Harlequin Presents
The Greek’s One-Night Heir
Secrets Made in Paradise
The Night the King Claimed Her
Billion-Dollar Christmas Confessions
Carrying Her Boss’s Christmas Baby
Once Upon a Temptation
Shy Queen in the Royal Spotlight
Rebels, Brothers, Billionaires
Stranded for One Scandalous Week
Nine Months to Claim Her
Jet-Set Billionaires
Revealing Her Nine-Month Secret
The Christmas Princess Swap
The Queen’s Impossible Boss
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
Natalie Anderson
The Boss’s Stolen Bride
For Soraya—again and always! I’ll always be grateful for your whip cracking and cheer!
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
EXCERPT FROM WED FOR THEIR ROYAL HEIR BY JACKIE ASHENDEN
CHAPTER ONE
ELIAS GREYSON HADN’T just mastered the art of avoiding inconvenient emotion, he’d perfected it—effortlessly ignoring not just his own, but that of all others. To be unmoved in the presence of histrionics made all decisions—be they business or personal related—clinical and easy. Rage, recriminations, pleas or guilt trips didn’t penetrate his armour. No matter the provocation, Elias Greyson didn’t overreact, didn’t get riled, and definitely didn’t make snap decisions in the heat of the moment because he always ensured any heat was eliminated from important negotiations. Emotional reactions led to poor outcomes, he found. A measured, rational, controlled response was right. And if he were occasionally accused of being a cold-blooded, ruthless bastard, so be it.
But today Elias was having a rare, imperfect day. Irritation burned up his spine—an irritation that had been building for the last two weeks. He checked the clock on his computer and said irritation roiled higher. He gritted his teeth. Of all the days for his ultra-efficient assistant to finally fail him. He was flying from London to the US in a few hours and he wanted everything organised ahead of take-off. His latest acquisition target, a venture capital firm based in San Francisco, was proving a difficult fish to hook. While the company would be useful for Elias to push further into the North American market, its chief exec, Vince Williams, considered ‘values’ to be important. The old man’s diligence searches went beyond company balance sheets all the way to any prospective raiding CEO’s silk ones. Apparently perfect Vince had been married to his childhood sweetheart Cora for over fifty years and was known to disapprove of a party lifestyle. Elias wasn’t quite the playboy he’d been a couple of years ago but apparently the fact he was still single was enough to cause ‘concern’. It was ridiculous and Elias would be informing Vince of the fact face-to-face at their meeting tomorrow.
He would also be taking over the firm regardless. But he’d prefer the acquisition not to be hostile, which is why he’d wanted everything squared away in an impeccably prepared offer that would be impossible to refuse regardless of anyone’s ‘values’. So the last thing he needed was to be let down by his primary assistant a few hours before departure.
Darcie Milne had never been late. Not once in the two and a half years she’d worked for him. Usually she was seated at the desk just outside his office before he even arrived, and he arrived early. But that chair was still empty. He snatched up his mobile. The text messages he’d already sent her remained unanswered so now he actually phoned her. It went straight to voicemail.
‘I need you in the office. Now.’ He stabbed the screen to end the call.
Five more minutes crawled by. His supposedly superior ability to ignore inconvenient emotion slipped as a sliver of worry crept in and splintered his concentration. Had something happened to her? Every muscle tensed. Where the hell was she?
At that exact moment his office door was flung open. Darcie Milne stalked in and slammed the door behind her.
Elias stared, rooted to his seat, jaw hanging. Because Darcie Milne was not wearing her customary office attire of loose-fitting white shirt, even looser grey trousers and boring brown brogues. In the dreary uniform’s place was a knee-length cream-coloured skirt and matching jacket. Both of which were a little too large on her frame, but that skirt offered a very rare glimpse of her ankles and calves and creamy skin. The room temperature shot up at least ten degrees.
He forced himself to shut his mouth and lift his gaze, but she wasn’t looking at him anyway; her focus was on his wide wooden desk between them. She’d not looked him square in the eyes once in the last fortnight. That had irritated him, too. He’d gone for so long without being bothered by her. Frankly he’d been proud of the degree to which he’d remained impassive to her presence. Until two weeks ago, that is. Because two weeks ago she’d—
‘What the hell time do you call this?’ he growled, refusing to think of that night. But the effort cost him his customary cool.
‘You don’t remember anything outside of the current deal, do you?’
Shocked by the uncharacteristic bite in her tone, that unfamiliar irritation almost overwhelmed him. Darcie had never given him moody attitude. She—like he—was usually calm. She was diligent. Dutiful. Sure, she sometimes challenged him but only when required, only ever about business and always very coolly. She was quite often correct, too. Not that she was some docile doormat, more an efficient, aloof automaton. One he refused to look at for too long. Only today—now—he stared at her. Hard.
‘What’s going on?’ he clipped.
She put a file on the desk before him. He could see the familiar neon sticky tags she preferred and the neat notes in her clear print.
‘I’ve narrowed it down to five. That ought not to be too taxing for you to have to interview,’ she said.
‘Interview?’
‘The applicants for your executive assistant.’
‘You’re my executive assistant.’
She stiffened and her expression was different again. ‘Have you really forgotten the resignation letter I emailed you a fortnight ago? I left a paper copy on your desk, but I know you read the email. I got the receipt.’
Oh, he’d not forgotten. He just knew his rights. He glared at her grimly. ‘Your contract requires three weeks’ notice. As you sent your letter only a fortnight ago, there’s one week left.’
‘But as I have so much accrued annual leave owing I’m taking the last week of my notice period as a holiday. You’re paying the remainder of my accrued holidays out.’ She shrugged. ‘It’s a lot.’
Something rippled beneath his skin at the unashamed defiance—sass—in her reply. She’d never crossed that line. Not until that night in Edinburgh.
‘So you’re going on holiday now?’ he asked. Where was she going in that ill-fitting cream suit—a nunnery?
‘Correct.’
Elias had lost many employees in the past and initially he’d been determined not to give a damn about Darcie’s unexpected decision to depart. Then he’d decided to get her to change her mind. But he’d not addressed it with her directly yet. Truthfully it had taken more assimilating than he’d expected, especially after that other issue.
But while he refused to beg, he couldn’t stop himself from testing her loyalty. ‘You realise it’s a terrible time.’
‘It’s always a terrible time,’ she said, her voice clipped. ‘There is always some massive deal on the table that you need everyone all over. It wouldn’t matter when I handed in my notice. It was always going to be an inconvenience to you.’
‘It’s far more than an inconvenience.’ The admission growled out.
‘You’re being dramatic,’ she said crisply. ‘You’ll be fine. You always are.’
His jaw dropped. Dramatic? ‘Not fine.’ He scrambled to keep on track. ‘You know this deal is—’
‘Imperative? Vital? Does the company’s future hang in the balance because this is the biggest deal you’ve ever done?’ She cocked her head and actually rolled her eyes at him. ‘They always are, Elias. But admit it, this one is all but sealed. The meeting tomorrow is a mere formality. You don’t need me there. You don’t need anyone. Besides, I bet you’ve already lined up the next deal and doubtless it’s even bigger than this one. Am I right?’
He stared at her. Who was this woman? Where had calm, capable Darcie gone?
Her mouth twisted. ‘I knew it. There’s no final deal for you. You’re always on the hunt for the next passion project before you’ve finished with the one right on the table in front of you.’
His skin tightened. Passion project? Was she talking business mergers or personal ones? Elias made no apology for his voracious appetite. At least he was honest about it. Which was more than she was. There was passion and hunger within Darcie, too. He’d known that from the moment he’d met her. He’d just been pretending not to remember ever since.
‘I’ll double your salary.’ Somehow the offer slipped out.
But it didn’t have the desired effect.
Storm clouds swept into her eyes, enhancing the blue, and he couldn’t have moved if he’d tried. Because then Darcie put both palms down on his desk and leaned across it to vent. ‘I have given you almost every hour of every day for nearly three years. I’ve never before denied you. But enough is enough.’
He blinked, shocked by her sudden vitriol. Darcie was never emotional at work. Not even when she’d worked thirty-one hours straight and was paler than tracing paper with smudges beneath her eyes. Not even then had she lost her cool with him. She was always professional. Or she had been. Until that one very strange, very unforgettable night. Then she’d been anything but.
‘It’s just like you to have forgotten.’ Lightning fury flashed from her. ‘Do you know I don’t have to be in this office at all today? I’m only here because of misplaced loyalty.’ She dragged in a breath and twisted the knife. ‘To my colleagues.’
‘Misplaced loyalty?’ The comment had him in a car racing towards a cliff edge. To the ravine he’d avoided at all costs. Until now. Because now he was pissed off, and the emotion was all-consuming. ‘To your colleagues, Darcie? Not to me?’
‘No.’ She lifted her chin. But she still didn’t quite meet his gaze. ‘Not you.’
‘But—’
‘I can’t stay to argue, Elias,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t actually have time.’
Why not? But he couldn’t seem to ask. He couldn’t seem to think. He could only stare at her as now she finally stared right back at him and her captivating eyes were full of things he couldn’t stand to see—resentment, anger, hurt.
‘Don’t you even want to know why?’ she breathed.
His obliging executive assistant, always anticipating, a step ahead of everyone except him, had turned on him. The quietly efficient woman who didn’t fawn but who got everything done was gone. In her place, radiant with energy, was a beautiful, furious firestorm.
‘Today is my wedding day and yet I’ve still come running at your damned summons. But this is it. I’m done.’
Wedding? The shock ripped through him like a tornado, turning up—
Her wedding day?
Before his heart could beat she stormed out, slamming the door behind her and leaving Elias struck still in the suddenly cavernous room. Bile burned his mouth as his body launched its own violent response. He brutally swallowed it back, but bitter rage gripped him regardless as her words reverberated.
Wedding day.
He hadn’t been spoken to like that—hadn’t been excoriated by someone’s scorn—in so very long. Who the hell was she marrying? She didn’t have time to date anyone. And how dare she after—?
He vaulted out of his seat and strode to the door, flinging it open to glare across the office. Naturally Darcie was nowhere to be seen. She must have sprinted. Was she that desperate to escape him or was her speed to get to her groom? His fury mounted.
Without exception his remaining staff had their gazes glued to screens; apparently all were suspended in eerie still silence. Of course, Darcie was the one who’d usually stare back him and ask what he wanted. Or she had been. Until these last two weeks.
Can you please pretend this never happened...?
To say nothing. To do nothing wasn’t Elias’s usual style. He didn’t know why he’d said yes to the second of her breathy requests that night. But he’d been saying nothing and doing nothing regarding Darcie Milne for months. He was practiced. Besides which, it had been the right thing to do.
‘Where did she say she was going?’ he demanded, too furious to bother pretending they hadn’t heard every word of that argument. ‘Is it really her wedding day?’
One of the assistants attempted a smile. ‘It’s so romantic, don’t you think?’
No, he did not. It was not romantic. It was a sham.
‘What do you know about it?’ He turned towards the woman. And how come he didn’t? Because he spent more time with Darcie than anyone.
‘Not much.’ The woman swallowed, her smile fading. ‘It only came out at her farewell party last night.’
A party that he’d known nothing about and certainly hadn’t been invited to. Insult to injury, much? A rosy cloud of rage misted in front of him. Never mind that he never socialised with his staff. Had Darcie sipped champagne the way she had a fortnight ago? When she never, ever drank. In all the nights she’d travelled alongside him, not once had he seen her touch alcohol. Until then.
Come upstairs with me?
Had she invited some other guy to her room the way she’d invited him?
‘Where’s the wedding?’ he rasped.
‘The register office in the city.’ A wary response.
She was getting married in a register office on a weekday morning? Something was off. Darcie was off—just now she’d most definitely not been herself. This wasn’t—couldn’t be—real. It certainly wasn’t right. He nodded, his feet moving fast. Because as far as Elias Greyson was concerned, Darcie Milne wasn’t getting married anywhere today.
Not to anyone.
CHAPTER TWO
DARCIE PACED THE CORRIDOR, keeping her gaze on the main entrance. It was only ten minutes until the allotted time for the ceremony, but all she could see was Elias’s expression as she’d fled his office fifteen minutes ago. He’d gone white—piqued because she’d snapped and not jumped to his summons. There was nothing more to his annoyance. No deeper emotion. There was never any real emotion with him. He was just too used to getting his own way. And right now she needed to forget the long-standing infatuation that had led to her making a colossal fool of herself a fortnight ago. She sucked in a breath and slammed the door on that mortifying memory once more.
It. Was. Over.
She wouldn’t see Elias Greyson ever again. She was about to marry someone else. As long as her groom actually arrived.
Her whole body suddenly ached like she’d come down with insta-flu. She checked the time again and her nerves exploded. Why wasn’t Shaun here already? She knew he’d been reluctant but she’d thought she’d convinced him. Darcie would do anything for her best friend and Shaun had loved Zara, too. And Lily was the one—the only—part of Zara that lived on. That little girl needed them. There was no way Darcie was letting Lily remain in the foster system any longer than necessary.
Shaun had eventually agreed when Darcie assured him she had enough money saved to give him what he needed to build his business. She’d have agreed to anything to secure Lily’s future. And she’d have just enough left over to stop work for a little while.
