Falling for His Stand-In Fiancée, page 1
“Adriana, I am so sorry to hear about your father. I was going to call, but I didn’t want to intrude. I was also worried that it was the situation with Stella that may have triggered his attack, and I wasn’t sure if my call would be welcome. How is he?”
“He is stable. They are going to put a stent in, and they think with proper care he should recover and hopefully not have another attack. As for what caused it, there is no point in speculating. Anyway, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Of course not.” Rob studied her face. “So why are you here? If I can help in any way, of course I will.” He hesitated. “But I won’t marry Stella. If that’s what you are here to suggest. While I am sorry for what has happened, that wouldn’t be right.”
“I know. That’s not why I am here. I...” All her carefully rehearsed speeches vanished clear out of her head. “I want you to marry me instead. I’m proposing a merger.”
Dear Reader,
My family are very important to me for entirely personal reasons.
In this book, the idea of family is central, but for Rob and Adriana, it is more than personal—it is all about duty and responsibility. Love hasn’t come into it, and they are determined it won’t.
They both believe that their happy-ever-after is one that can be negotiated into being, built on a foundation of convenience.
But as they plan and parley on the beautiful island of Madeira, somehow love does its best to come to the bargaining table.
In the end, Rob and Adriana have to make a choice between duty and love. I hope you enjoy discovering which they choose.
Nina x
Falling for His Stand-In Fiancée
Nina Milne
Nina Milne has always dreamed of writing for Harlequin Romance—ever since she played libraries with her mother’s stacks of Harlequin romances as a child. On her way to this dream, Nina acquired an English degree, a hero of her own, three gorgeous children and—somehow!—an accountancy qualification. She lives in Brighton and has filled her house with stacks of books—her very own real library.
Books by Nina Milne
Harlequin Romance
The Casseveti Inheritance
Italian Escape with the CEO
Whisked Away by the Italian Tycoon
The Secret Casseveti Baby
A Crown by Christmas
Their Christmas Royal Wedding
Conveniently Wed to the Prince
Hired Girlfriend, Pregnant Fiancée?
Whisked Away by Her Millionaire Boss
Baby on the Tycoon’s Doorstep
Second Chance in Sri Lanka
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To my family with love xx
Praise for Nina Milne
“Their Christmas Royal Wedding is an escapist, enjoyable and emotional contemporary tale that will touch readers’ hearts with its beguiling blend of searing intensity, heart-warming drama and uplifting romance. Nina Milne writes with plenty of warmth and heart and she has penned a poignant and spellbinding romantic read.”
—Goodreads
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
EXCERPT FROM CAPTURING THE CEO’S GUARDED HEART BY REBECCA WINTERS
CHAPTER ONE
THE HONOURABLE ADRIANA MORRISON looked up as she heard the sound of her name being called. Damn! She’d been sure that she’d be alone for the next few hours. Swiftly she covered the easel and moved it out of sight into a small alcove, pulled the curtain across. Glanced down at herself—thankfully she’d only just got started, so there was no paint on her as yet.
She glanced round the room for any tell-tale signs of her artistic endeavours and, once satisfied there weren’t, she walked to the door and pulled it open, smiled at her elder sister with the familiar mix of love tinged with the tiniest hint of envy that, try as she might, Adriana couldn’t shift. However much she loved Stella.
And she did try, understood that it wasn’t Stella’s fault that she was beautiful, smart, vivacious and all-round perfect. Nor was it her sister’s fault that she was the loved one, the child who could do no wrong, the daughter her father adored, in so much as Lord Salvington was capable of adoring anyone.
Whereas their father literally couldn’t bear the sight of Adriana, the daughter who should have been the son he longed for. The son he had been promised—the gender scan had been sure she would be a boy. Sometimes Adriana tried to picture the moment Lord Salvington had been told he had a second daughter, the bitter disappointment, the anger and rage etched on those sneering features. Compounded by the fact her mother had suffered such complications during the birth that she would never fall pregnant again.
The all too familiar stab of guilt pinched at her and she shook her head to dislodge the thoughts. Her brain knew it was not her fault she was a girl, that she deserved her father’s love regardless of her sex, that she hadn’t intended to put a stop to future pregnancies. But years of witnessing her father’s disappointment, years of watching her parents’ marriage disintegrate, years of her father’s constant putdowns and her mother’s sadness told her that it was her fault. Because, unwittingly or not, she was the cause, the catalyst that had led her family down a path strewn with misery and bitterness.
And, unwittingly or not, she was the reason that Salvington could pass to some distant cousin who knew how many times removed. A man called Bobby Galloway, an American who had no interest at all in being ‘lumbered’ with the responsibilities of an estate and had been clear he would sell Salvington to the highest bidder.
Adriana understood her father’s deep sadness, frustration and anger that this should happen, all due to an archaic, outdated system that insisted on male primogeniture, decreed that the estate and title pass down the male line. To give him his due he had fought tirelessly to try to change that system, so that Stella could somehow inherit. That had been Strategy A. His Strategy B had been a disaster, a cold-hearted affair, a ‘try before you buy’ attempt to get another woman pregnant that culminated in a scandal that rocked their house. Because when a scan revealed the sex to be a girl, Lord Salvington had rejected the woman, who went public with the story. Adriana could still feel the sear of sorrow and shame and misery. Made worse when the woman had lost the baby. After that for some reason her father’s dislike of his second daughter had intensified. As if the failure of Strategy B was her fault.
Thank goodness for her mother and her sister, who both loved her and did their best to protect her. Though Stella was always careful not to show love or kindness to her sister in front of their father. The sisters had learnt early on that that was the way to infuriate Lord Salvington and trigger the caustic edge of his tongue against both Adriana and their mother. That the best course of action was for Adriana to be as invisible as possible.
But that didn’t stop them from forging a real bond, and now worry touched Adriana as she took in the pallor of her sister’s face, the panic that clouded the beautiful blue eyes. ‘What’s wrong?’ She glanced at her watch. ‘And what are you doing here?’ Stella was supposed to be on her way for her first date with Rob Wilmington, Viscount Rochester, heir to the Earldom of Darrow.
A different type of envy, a different type of guilt threatened to surface and Adriana pushed it down. The fact that she had once harboured some sort of foolish crush on the man destined to marry her sister was a secret she planned to take to the grave. Even more so as the whole thing had been toe-curlingly stupid, the only saving grace being she was sure Rob had never suspected. In truth it was extremely unlikely that Rob even remembered her.
‘I can’t go through with it.’ Stella’s voice was low, the words so utterly unexpected that Adriana was sure she must have misheard.
‘Sorry?’
‘You heard me.’ Stella came in, started to pace in front of the battered mahogany desk.
‘What do you mean? It’s all arranged; you’re the one who planned the whole thing.’
‘I know,’ Stella wailed. ‘And I meant to do it, Ria, I really did. I wanted to do it.’
Adriana tried to think; she truly had not seen this coming. The proposed marriage had been welcomed by Stella as the ‘grand alliance’ she’d always been destined for. Always wanted. A duty she welcomed. For this was Strategy C. Although the Salvington estate and title could not pass directly to a daughter, due to a legal quirk set back in the history of time, it could pass on to the male offspring of a daughter, provided that offspring was born ‘in wedlock’ and was born whilst the existing Lord was alive. So it had always been essential, if Strategies A and B failed, that Stella would marry and have a son and heir. In addition their father expected a ‘good’ marriage, wanted his heir to be worthy, with the correct blood running through his veins.
Stella had been happy to go along with that, bound by a duty to her ancestral home. In the past weeks she’d surrounded h
‘I don’t understand. What’s happened? What’s changed?’
Stella twisted her hands together. ‘I’m pregnant.’
‘What?’ Shock conflated with confusion. ‘But if you and Rob are...’
‘It’s not Rob’s. He and I haven’t even kissed.’ Stella gave a strangled laugh. ‘I had that planned for date number three in full view of the press. We were going to hold hands at date two. A peck on the cheek was scheduled for today—date one.’
‘But...’ Adriana’s brain desperately tried to compute the information. ‘Then who is the father?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘Yes, it does. It matters a lot, given our situation. Are you going to marry him?’ That way, at least, if the baby was a boy there would be an heir.
Stella’s strides increased. ‘No. That is not an option. But neither is marrying Rob. I can’t pretend the baby is his.’
Adriana studied her sister. ‘But you thought about it?’ she asked, keeping all judgement from her voice. ‘Is that why you’ve left it this late to pull out of this date?’
‘I only did the test today. I know that was stupid, but I thought... I hoped I would be wrong. I even thought if I were to be pregnant it wouldn’t matter. I’d have an abortion. But now...’ She rested her hand on her tummy. ‘Now...now I know it’s a disaster but I want to keep the baby.’ She stopped. ‘Please don’t give me a hard time. I know I’ve messed up, messed up our whole plan, but I’ll make it right somehow in the future...’
‘Whoa. Slow down. I’m not going to give you a hard time—I would never do that. You’re my sister and you’ve always been the best sister I could wish for.’ The plan had been concocted when they were young, when they’d vowed to save their ancestral home somehow and to share it.
It was decided that one day Stella would be Lady of the Manor, carry out all the high-society duties, be the public face of Salvington, whilst Adriana would do what she loved most: look after the land and manage the estate.
‘As for the plan, you don’t need to worry about that right now. Because we have far bigger worries. If you don’t go through with marrying Rob, Father is going to go ballistic.’
Her own fear was reflected on Stella’s face, a fear that she had lived with all her life, an underlay of darkness that clouded the brightest day. Fear of her father’s anger.
Though once, apparently, her father had been a different man. Kind and loving; their parents’ marriage had been a love match and often Lady Salvington would look back, tell Adriana of their happiness, their courtship, had described a man Adriana could not imagine as her father.
Because disappointment over the lack of an heir had curdled love with bitterness; and slowly, slowly, as the barren years had passed love had morphed into dislike and a need to belittle; vitriolic words that put his wife and daughter ‘in their place’. Stella and Adriana had often begged their mother to leave but she had refused, too scared that she would lose custody. Known too how much both sisters loved their ancestral home—felt too that it would be wrong to take them from it even if she did.
So, life continued and Adriana kept herself as invisible as possible. Spent hours away from the family, roaming the estate or shut away painting. Painting landscapes of Salvington, trying to capture the beauty and reality of a place she loved, a place she felt she had in some way let down. Her art, the silver lining to her cloud, a means of expressing her feelings, a hobby she loved and told no one about. Refused to expose something precious to her to the sneers and derision of her father.
But now there would be worse than derision—and when Lord Salvington discovered his favourite child had failed him, that Plan C was down the pan, there was no strategy that would stem the tide of his anger.
‘What are we going to do?’
‘I’ll have to tell Father,’ Stella said. ‘And there’s another problem,’ Stella said. ‘Rob will be in the restaurant by now.’
‘You need to tell him. We can’t leave him stranded.’
‘I know.’ Stella frowned, resumed pacing. ‘The problem is, I’ve got press all lined up to catch us. I’ve dropped all the right hints and I’m pretty sure there will be at least one celebrity journalist in that restaurant to scoop us. So they will see him take my call, or get my text.’ Her stride increased. ‘I can’t think straight. But if the press get even a glimmer of suspicion about my condition, then...’
‘We are up the creek without a paddle or a stick.’
‘More than you know. I can’t risk the paternity of this baby coming out. I can’t.’ Stella’s voice broke. ‘But there is one thing we could do...’
* * *
Rob Wilmington, Viscount Rochester, heir to the Earldom of Darrow, glanced surreptitiously at his watch. Where was Stella? He could only assume she was planning a grand entrance. Not for the first time he questioned the idea of a public ‘romance’.
He understood that a positive, happy spin would hopefully undo the horrible negativity of scandal for both families. Even now, two years later, he could taste the bitter tang of his own humiliation. Recalled seeing Emily, his fiancée, the woman he’d loved, splashed across the tabloids locked in a passionate embrace with her ex-boyfriend.
So he’d agreed to Stella’s suggestion, understood, too, her point when she’d said, ‘I have no wish for true romance but I would like to enjoy the trappings of it.’ So she’d planned a campaign, laid a trail so that their first date would garner some publicity, had the whole next few weeks mapped out.
As for Rob, he had no interest in romance whatsoever. Would never be fool enough to make the mistake of believing in love again.
He’d risked everything for Emily; at one point his parents had even threatened to disinherit him, they had been so dismayed by his declaration of love for a girl so far ‘below them’. But Rob truly hadn’t cared, hadn’t thought her background mattered a jot. So what if she came from a rough council estate, so what if her father and brother had done time in prison, so what if her past boyfriends left a lot to be desired?
And he still didn’t believe any of that mattered. What had mattered was the fact that, whilst he loved Emily, that love hadn’t been reciprocated; Emily had been taking him for a ride, had joined the train because she expected glamour and riches, had been dazzled by his title and position. Shades of his parents in a way. They loved him because he was an heir, and would ensure the Darrow line remained unbroken for at least another generation. Before his birth they had all but given up hope of having an heir, after years of miscarriages and failed treatments, and then he’d come along, late in their lives, a ‘miracle baby’. They had never seen him as an individual in his own right, he was a treasured commodity to be moulded to continue in the traditions of all the Earls of Darrow. As a result, in the name of love and duty they had tried to control his life. Decided it was too risky for him to ride a bike, had sent him to boarding school, but with the diktat that he wasn’t allowed to play rugby, go swimming, do anything in case he got injured.
But at least they loved him in their own way. Emily hadn’t. When his back was turned, she’d hooked up with her ex, fresh out of prison and more than happy to make a quick legitimate buck from the press. Once it was out in the open and Rob had wised up, the ex convinced Emily to jump on his bandwagon and they milked the scandal for all it was worth.
When he recalled some of the ‘truth’ Emily had revealed, the intimate details, hot anger still welled up, not only with her but also with himself for falling for her act. The pretence of passion, the fakery of love. When in fact, as she had so cheerfully admitted to all and sundry, she’d been ‘lying back and thinking of her ex’, although she’d felt so bad. ‘I tried, I really did,’ she explained, ‘because Rob is a decent man, a man who was trying so hard.’ Pause and a small, cheeky smile. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’
