The Christmas Marriage Mission (Harlequin Presents #2436) [NOOK Book]


She's a beauty...

When Kay Sherwood steps into Mitchell Grey's office he's so fiercely attracted to her fiery good looks he insists that she join him for dinner.

Can she tame the beast?

But up until now Mitchell has indulged only in no-strings affairs, and the suave tycoon is taken aback by the intense passion that's threatening to develop. Becoming more intimate with Kay—a single mom—would be just too ...

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The Christmas Marriage Mission (Harlequin Presents #2436)

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She's a beauty...

When Kay Sherwood steps into Mitchell Grey's office he's so fiercely attracted to her fiery good looks he insists that she join him for dinner.

Can she tame the beast?

But up until now Mitchell has indulged only in no-strings affairs, and the suave tycoon is taken aback by the intense passion that's threatening to develop. Becoming more intimate with Kay—a single mom—would be just too dangerous! But Mitchell hasn't counted on the fact that Christmas is coming; some special seasonal magic is about to change his mind!

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9781426867187
  • Publisher: Harlequin
  • Publication date: 6/21/2010
  • Series: Do Not Disturb Series , #2436
  • Sold by: Barnes & Noble
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 192
  • Sales rank: 619,936
  • File size: 403 KB

Meet the Author

Helen Brooks was born and educated in Northampton, England, where she still lives today with her husband and family. Although having enjoyed some wonderful holidays abroad she has never been tempted to live anywhere else, although she rather likes the idea of a holiday home close to the sea one day.

Helen met her husband at the age of 16 and 35 years later the magic is still there.

They have three lovely children, Cara, Faye, and Benjamin, and have always had a menagerie of animals in the house, which at the present is confined to two endearing and very comical dogs who would make a great double act on TV! The children, friends, and pets all keep the house buzzing and the food cupboards empty but Helen wouldn't have it any other way.

Helen began writing in 1990 as she approached that milestone of a birthday— 40! She realized her two teenage ambitions (writing a novel and learning to drive) had been lost amid babies and hectic family life, so set about resurrecting then.

Her first novel was for Harlequin Mills and Boon and was accepted after one rewrite, and she passed her driving test (the former was a joy and the latter an unmitigated nightmare!) She has just finished her 38th novel for Harlequin as well as several sagas.

Being a committed Christian and fervent animal lover Helen finds spare time is always at a premium, but long walks in the countryside with her husband and dogs, meals out followed by the cinema or theater, reading, swimming, and having friends over for dinner are all fitted in somehow. She also enjoys sitting in her wonderfully therapeutic, rambling old garden in the sun with a glass of red wine, (under the guise of resting while thinking of course!)

Since becoming a full-time writer Helen has found her occupation one of pure joy and often surprised when her characters develop a mind of their own— but she loves exploring what makes people tick and finds the old adage "truth is stranger than fiction" to be absolutely true. She would love to hear from any readers on both sides of the Atlantic c/o Harlequin.

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Read an Excerpt

The Christmas Marriage Mission

By Helen Brooks

Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.

Copyright © 2004 Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0-373-12436-8

Chapter One

THE offices were lush, very lush - all muted tones of ochre and buttery yellows on pale maple flooring, and, although Kay could sense a discreet urgency behind the glass doors she was passing on her way to the big chief's domain, the overall air of tranquillity was not disturbed. The glass lift that had transported her from the thickly carpeted reception to the fifth floor had been the last word in elegance too.

She knocked on the door with the nameplate reading 'Miss Jenna Wright, Mr Grey's secretary', and waited until the woman inside raised her head from the word processor in front of her before opening it. Nevertheless, the beautiful cold face in front of Kay did not return her smile, and such was the expression in the carefully made up green eyes that Kay found herself speaking coolly as she said, "I've a package for Mr Grey. I understand it is urgent."

Still the woman did not smile or speak, merely holding out her hand for the large manila envelope with an imperiousness that was insulting all by itself.

Mr Grey's secretary obviously thought it beneath her to speak to a humble delivery agent, Kay thought wryly, aware that the woman's gaze had taken in every crease and mark on her biking jacket and leathers. She walked across to the largedesk and placed the envelope in the red-taloned hand waiting for it, and it was only then the thin, scarlet-painted mouth opened briefly to say, "Wait outside until Mr Grey has looked at it."

Charming. Kay turned abruptly, aware her cheeks were flushing, and left the office without another word. She stood quietly for a second in the corridor outside, willing the colour in her cheeks to subside before she was forced to speak to the other woman again, and then walked over to where an area was set aside for visitors. Seating herself on one of the big plump sofas, she reached for a glossy magazine. When Mr Grey's secretary wanted her - and she had already been told by the firm who had hired her to take the documents to Grey Cargo International there would be a reply - she could jolly well come and find her!

In spite of her irritation, as the minutes ticked by Kay found herself engrossed in the story of a massively fat woman who had decided to have her stomach stapled. The article chronicled the highs and lows of the woman's two-year fight to become the size twelve she'd been before her husband had left her after their two children had died in an accident. Kay was so taken up with the battle that she found herself grinning like a Cheshire cat when the 'after' picture showed a slim, confident, smiling woman on the arm of a new man, and she was just muttering what she would have liked to have done to the first husband who had deserted his wife when she'd needed him the most - thereby contributing to the eating disorder she'd developed - when she became aware she wasn't alone.

She raised defensive brown eyes, expecting to see the perfectly coiffured figure of the secretary in front of her, and then froze for a second as an amused smoky voice said, "Interesting?"

The man was tall, six feet two at least, and aggressively handsome in a hard, cold way, his silver-blue eyes and black hair holding no signs of softness or warmth, and his lean, powerful body intimidating.

"I ... I'm sorry?" It was all she could manage through the wave of shock that had her rooted to the seat.

"The magazine." He gestured at it almost impatiently.

"Is it the latest fashion, or a new hairdo which is so riveting?"

The condescension was so overtly patronising that it worked like an injection of adrenalin. Kay jumped to her feet, pushing back her mass of thick curly red-brown hair, which always exploded into riotous disarray every time she took off her crash helmet - and which she had long since given up trying to control - and took a deep breath. "Neither," she said icily. "Just an article which reaffirms what swines men are, actually, although perhaps that's not very fair on pigs."

He blinked. "Right." There was a brief pause and she noted with some satisfaction that both the amusement and condescension had vanished when he said coldly, "You are the courier, I take it?"

Well, it was better than delivery girl, which she was sure was how the secretary would have referred to her. Kay nodded. "Yes, I am," she said coolly, her heart beginning to thump harder as it dawned on her this must be Mitchell Grey himself.

He said nothing for a moment, but then he didn't have to - the arctic eyes said it all. Kay was well aware that at a slender five feet five she wasn't the average courier, but, as her firm dealt only with the delivery of documents, letters and small packages, brawn didn't come into it. Her ancient but trustworthy 100 cc motorbike could nip through the traffic jams that sometimes snarled up Romford town centre, which was all she asked of it.

"How long have you worked for Sherwood Delivery?" The words themselves were innocuous enough; his tone suggested the firm must have been crazy to take her on.

It was therefore with a great deal of inward pleasure, none of which was betrayed in her cool voice and blank face, that Kay said, "Ever since I formed the company three years ago."

He didn't blink this time, which said a lot for his self-control, Kay had to admit, but she just knew she had surprised him again, even though his face was deadpan. He continued to watch her steadily, the silver-hued eyes narrowing, before he walked across to where she was now standing.

Kay was immediately aware of feeling dwarfed, which in the circumstances was not pleasant, but she instinctively raised her small chin as she waited for his response.

"Sit down, Miss ...?"

"Sherwood. Mrs Sherwood." And game, set and match to me, I think, Kay thought delightedly. It might teach him not to make so many high-handed assumptions in the future at least?

She saw him glance at her ringless hands as she took the seat she had just vacated, but as she watched him seat himself opposite the sofa she made no attempt to explain further. It was none of his business.

"Three years." He sat back, one ankle resting on the other knee in a very masculine pose. "Why haven't I heard of your company before this?"

Keep calm and don't gabble, Kay warned herself silently. He was no doubt well aware of the faintly menacing air he gave off and probably well versed in the art of subtle - and not so subtle - intimidation. But he didn't frighten her, not for a minute!

"Probably because we are still very small," she said evenly. "We deal with files, documents, letters, photo-graphs - that kind of thing." She knew it had been an urgent document she had delivered to him today from a firm of solicitors in the town, a document that needed a signature, but that was all she had been told.

"Your husband is a partner in the company?" he enquired softly.

"No." It had been all the explanation she'd been going to give but, when the silence stretched and lengthened unbearably, she found herself saying stiffly, "I'm divorced. I founded the company after we'd parted; he was never involved with it." She glanced at the envelope in his hand, her voice dismissive when she said, "If the document is ready, I'll take it now, shall I? I understand it's urgent."


Excerpted from The Christmas Marriage Mission by Helen Brooks Copyright © 2004 by Harlequin Enterprises, Ltd.. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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