About the Author
SHARON KENDRICK once won a national writing competition by describing her ideal date: being flown to an exotic island by a gorgeous and powerful man. Little did she realise that she’d just wandered into her dream job! Today she writes for Mills & Boon, featuring often stubborn but always to die for heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. She believes that the best books are those you never want to end. Just like life…
Stars Collection: Convenient Vows
A Royal Vow of Convenience
The Paternity Claim
The Housekeeper’s Awakening
Sharon Kendrick
ISBN: 978-1-474-09500-6
STARS COLLECTION: CONVENIENT VOWS
A Royal Vow of Convenience © 2016 Sharon Kendrick The Paternity Claim © 2000 Sharon Kendrick The Housekeeper’s Awakening © 2016 Sharon Kendrick
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
Version: 2020-03-02
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Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Copyright
A Royal Vow of Convenience
Back Cover Text
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
EPILOGUE
The Paternity Claim
Dedication
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
The Housekeeper’s Awakening
Acknowledgements
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
About the Publisher
A Royal Vow of Convenience
Sharon Kendrick
His princess under the covers...
The whirr of helicopter blades announcing the return of her new boss sends Sophie scurrying back to the kitchen. Little does she know that fleeing from royal scrutiny will place her under the devastatingly searing gaze of notorious billionaire Rafe Carter.
Having resisted his cook for days, a secret midnight swim sends Rafe’s senses into overdrive and he can’t resist a taste of the forbidden. But the press descend when Sophie’s identity is shockingly revealed, and Rafe is duty-bound to rescue the beautiful princess...with a convenient vow.
This book is dedicated to my two greatest
achievements—Celia Campbell & Patrick
Kendrick, who are talented, hard-working
and funny.
I’m very proud to be your mum
CHAPTER ONE
THE CLATTER WAS deafening as the helicopter descended from a cloudless blue sky, and a nervous bead of sweat trickled down between Sophie’s breasts.
‘He’s here,’ said Andy abruptly as the blades stopped turning. ‘Don’t look so worried, Sophie. Rafe Carter might be the big boss but he doesn’t bite. He just doesn’t suffer fools gladly and as long as you remember that, you’ll be okay. Okay?’
‘Okay,’ Sophie echoed dutifully. But her throat was still tight with tension as Andy left the veranda and ran towards the helicopter where a powerfully built man had just appeared at the open door, raking his fingers through dark and wind-ruffled hair. Pausing briefly to scan the horizon, he shook his head as a busty blonde in a tight blue uniform tried to get his attention, before jumping to the dusty ground, leaving the woman staring after him—her shoulders hunched with dejection.
Another feeling of panic prickled over Sophie’s skin but now it was underpinned with something else. Something which made her pulse start racing as the man stood very still, just staring at the land—his frozen stance drawing attention to his proud profile and the shadowed jut of his jaw.
Even from this distance she could see the hard definition of his body. In an immaculate suit, which hugged his muscular physique, he looked sophisticated and urbane—as out of place in the dusty Outback setting as his expensive helicopter. Everything about him proclaimed the fact that this was the billionaire owner of one of the world’s biggest telecommunications companies, whose enormous cattle station was simply one of his ‘hobbies’. Rafe Carter. Even the name sounded sexy. She’d overheard the other staff talking about him—tantalising snatches of gossip which had made her ears prick up—though she’d been careful not to pry or show her curiosity.
Because Sophie had learnt very quickly that if she wanted to keep her identity secret, it was better to be seen and not heard. To dress demurely and fade into the background. To not ask questions about the man who owned this property and all the land as far as the eye could see. All she knew was that he was rich. Very rich. That he liked planes and art and beautiful women—in addition to a rural Australian life he dipped in and out of as he pleased. Her breasts prickled with an unfamiliar beat of anticipation. She just hadn’t expected him to be quite so...mesmerising.
She watched as Andy moved forward and the two men exchanged a few words of greeting before walking towards the homestead as the helicopter rose back up into the sky. It was hot on the veranda. Even at this early hour the mercury was shooting up the scale. Summer had arrived and sometimes it felt as if she were living in a giant sauna. Her palms were covered in a fine layer of sweat and she rubbed them over her cotton shorts, willing her heart to stop pounding—because surely that would make her unease seem somehow obvious.
She wondered what it was about the arrival of Rafe Carter which made her feel as if her world were about to come tumbling down around her. Fear she would be found out? That he might succeed where everyone else on this cattle station had failed—and work out who she really was? That he would discover the crazy lengths she’d gone to in order to secure herself a place here in the wild peace of the Australian Outback, because she’d wanted to escape from her gilded life and forge a more worthwhile existence? She’d never met him, but it wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility that he’d seen her photograph in a newspaper—because didn’t their gilded worlds have distant connections? Her mind began to race even faster. And what if he did find out—then what?
A series of disturbing scenarios flashed before her and she clenched her fists as a wave of determination swept over her. Because that wasn’t going to happen. She wouldn’t let it. For the first time in her life she’d been enjoying the simple pleasures of anonymity and the rewards of honest hard work and was feeling cautiously optimistic about the future. Nobody knew who she was and nobody cared. There were no eyes following her every move. She was on her own—properly on her own—and it was both daunting and exciting. It couldn’t last. She knew that. Her brother had given her an ultimatum and time was fast running out. He wanted her back in Isolaverde—preferably by Christmas, but certainly by the time of her little sister’s nineteenth birthday at the end of February. In a couple of months it would all be over and she was going to miss the sense of peace and freedom she’d known in this out-of-the-way place. She was going to have to return to the world she’d run away from and face up to the future, but she wanted to do it on her own terms. To leave here in the same way she’d arrived—without fuss or fanfare.
Leaving the heat which hung over the veranda like a heavy blanket, Sophie hurried into the kitchen where the air-conditioning did little to cool her heated skin. She fanned her face with her hand as she heard the heavy tread of masculine footfall and tried not to let her nerves get the better of her.
‘Sophie? Come and meet the boss.’
Andy’s broad Australian accent shattered her thoughts and suddenly it was too late for any more reflection because the station manager was walking into the kitchen, a smile wreathing his face—in stark contrast to the expression of the man who followed him. And try as she might, Sophie still couldn’t tear her eyes away from the newcomer, even though her upbringing had taught her it was rude to stare.
Close up, he was even more spectacular. His hard-boned face was shockingly beautiful and so was his body. But his physical perfection was underpinned by a dark quality which shimmered around him like an aura—an edge of danger which was making her feel self-conscious. Did he know the effect he had on women? she wondered. Did he realise that her mouth was as dry as the dust in the yard outside and that her breasts had started to swell, so that they were pushing against the suddenly constricting material of her cheap underwear? She wondered how he managed to look so cool in a suit and, as if reading her thoughts, he slid the jacket from his broad shoulders so she was confronted by the hint of hard, honed torso—shadowy beneath the pristine silk of his white shirt.
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