The housekeeper’s proposition...
When half his inheritance is left to his aunt’s housekeeper, English orphan Rosie Clifton, Spanish aristocrat Don Xavier Del Rio is determined to claim what’s rightfully his. So when Rosie surprises him with a marriage proposal, Xavier sees a way to get everything he wants...including Rosie in his bed!
Rosie will do anything to protect her home on the Isla Del Rey—even marry Xavier! She’ll provide him with an heir, in exchange for him leaving the untouched beauty of the island intact. But can she trust her charming new husband—or his devastating kiss?
‘I think we should get married.’
Xavier’s eyes widened. ‘I beg your pardon?’ he said faintly. ‘Am I imagining things, or did you just propose marriage?’
‘That’s exactly what I said,’ Rosie confirmed.
He looked incredulous.
‘It would solve all our problems,’ she said. ‘Yours especially,’ she hurried on, ‘So it seems to me to be the sensible thing to do—’
‘Sensible?’ He raked his hair with exasperated fingers.
‘You need an heir, or you’ll lose your half of the island to me, and unless you’ve got someone in mind—’
‘I don’t.’
‘Then...’
‘Better the devil I know?’ he suggested grimly.
‘You can’t buy me out—you should know that by now—and if we marry you get to keep your share.’
‘What’s in it for you?’
‘Everything,’ she said bluntly. And nothing, she thought. ‘A secure future for the islanders and the island,’ she insisted, ignoring the chill in his eyes. ‘So will you consider my suggestion?’
She had no idea what Xavier was thinking as he stared into the fire. Her best guess was that this was Xavier the businessman, weighing up the odds.
‘I can’t believe you’re serious about this,’ he said, looking around at last.
‘You’d have my full cooperation,’ she stressed, sensing the faintest of possibilities that he might say yes.
‘I would certainly expect your cooperation in bed.’
Wedlocked!
Conveniently wedded, passionately bedded!
Whether there’s a debt to be paid, a will to be obeyed or a business to be saved...she’s got no choice but to say ‘I do’!
But these billionaire bridegrooms have got another think coming if they think marriage will be easy...
Soon their convenient brides become the object of an inconvenient desire!
Find out what happens after the vows in
The Billionaire’s Defiant Acquisition
by Sharon Kendrick
One Night to Wedding Vows
by Kim Lawrence
Wedded, Bedded, Betrayed
by Michelle Smart
Expecting a Royal Scandal
by Caitlin Crews
Trapped by Vialli’s Vows
by Chantelle Shaw
Baby of His Revenge
by Jennie Lucas
Look out for more Wedlocked! stories
coming soon!
A Diamond for Del Rio’s Housekeeper
Susan Stephens
SUSAN STEPHENS was a professional singer before meeting her husband on the Mediterranean island of Malta. In true Modern Romance style they met on Monday, became engaged on Friday and married three months later. Susan enjoys entertaining, travel and going to the theatre. To relax she reads, cooks and plays the piano, and when she’s had enough of relaxing she throws herself off mountains on skis, or gallops through the countryside singing loudly.
Books by Susan Stephens
Harlequin Presents
In the Sheikh’s Service
Master of the Desert
One Night With Consequences
Bound to the Tuscan Billionaire
Hot Brazilian Nights!
In the Brazilian’s Debt
At the Brazilian’s Command
Brazilian’s Nine Months’ Notice
Back in the Brazilian’s Bed
The Skavanga Diamonds
Diamond in the Desert
The Flaw in His Diamond
The Purest of Diamonds?
His Forbidden Diamond
The Acostas!
The Untamed Argentinian
The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta
The Argentinian’s Solace
A Taste of the Untamed
The Man from Her Wayward Past
Taming the Last Acosta
Visit the Author Profile page
at Harlequin.com for more titles.
For my wonderful readers, who give me licence to dream.
You’re always at the forefront of my mind,
and this is for you.
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
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM A DI SIONE FOR THE GREEK’S PLEASURE
CHAPTER ONE
‘THIS IS A private beach...’
Rosie had to raise her voice to reach the big, brutal-looking man lowering the anchor on his sleek black launch off shore. He’d stilled, so she was sure he’d heard her, but for some reason he’d chosen to ignore her. Waving her arms made no impact at all.
‘Damned invaders,’ Rosie’s late elderly employer, Doña Anna, would have said as she waved her walking stick at any sailors bold enough to drop anchor near her private island. ‘You can’t swim here! This is my island!’ Standing belligerently, with her crab-like hands planted firmly on her bony hips, Doña Anna would continue to berate visitors—whom Rosie had always thought couldn’t do much harm if all they wanted to do was enjoy the crystalline waters and sugar-sand beach for an hour or so—until they took the hint that they weren’t welcome and left for kinder waters.
Rosie tensed as the man stared straight at her. With maybe fifty yards between them, his penetrating assessment stabbed her like an arrow.
Her body reacted in the craziest way, softening and yearning as the force of his personality washed over her. The effect was as powerful as if they were standing toe to toe.
She was instantly in ‘fight or flight’ mode. Her brain sharpened to make that call. Only what they’d called her pure, damned stubbornness at the orphanage was keeping her rooted to the spot. She might not have had the best of starts in life, but she wasn’t a victim and never would be.
And a promise was a promise, Rosie vowed. Her promise to Doña Anna, that she would keep the island safe, was sacrosanct. However intimidating the man seemed, until she knew what he wanted, he wasn’t getting any further than the shore.
The man had other ideas.
Her heart thundered as he sprang lightly onto the bow rail, preparing to dive into the sea. Keeping the island safe would take more than good intentions, she suspected. He was twice her size and built like a gladiator.
His dive made barely a ripple in the water. Surfacing, he powered towards the shore. There was something hard and ruthless about him that stole away her earlier confidence, replacing it with apprehension. Crew of a mother yacht generally wore some sort of uniform with the name of their boat emblazoned on it. He wore no identifying clothing. Stripped to the waist in cut-off shorts, he was maybe thirty...older than she was, anyway.
Rosie was in h
er early twenties. She couldn’t even be sure of her date of birth. There was no record of it. A fire at the orphanage had destroyed all evidence of her history shortly after she arrived. Her life experience was limited to the strange, isolated world inside an institution, and now a small island off the southern tip of Spain.
She’d been lucky enough to be offered a job on Isla Del Rey by a charity that ran a scheme for disadvantaged young people. The post involved working on a trial basis as a companion/housekeeper for an elderly lady who had driven six previous companion/housekeepers away. On the face of it, not the most promising opportunity, but Rosie would have jumped at anything to escape the oppressive surroundings of the institution, and the island had seemed to offer sanctuary from the harsh realities of the outside world.
That world was back with a vengeance now, she thought as the man drew close to shore.
She took up position, ready to send him on his way. Doña Anna had given her so much more than a roof over her head, and she owed it to the old lady to keep her island safe.
Against all the odds, Rosie had become close to her employer, but in her wildest dreams she could never have predicted that in one last act of quite astonishing generosity Doña Anna would leave orphan Rosie Clifton half of Isla Del Rey in her will.
Rosie’s inheritance became an international scandal. She hadn’t been exactly welcomed into the land-owning classes, more shunned by them. Even Doña Anna’s lawyer had made some excuse not to meet her. His formal letter had seemed impregnated with his scorn. How could she, a lowly housekeeper and an orphan to boot, step into the shoes of generations of Spanish aristocracy? No one had seemed to understand that what Rosie had inherited was an old lady’s trust, and her love.
Doña Anna’s generous bequest had turned out to be a double-edged sword. Rosie had come to love the island, but without a penny to her name, and no wage coming in, she could barely afford to support herself, let alone help the islanders to market their organic produce on the mainland, as she had promised them she would.
The man had reached the shallows, and was wading to the shore. Naked to the waist and muscular, his deeply tanned frame dripping with seawater, he was a spectacular sight. She couldn’t imagine a man like that going cap in hand for a loan.
Rosie had failed spectacularly in that direction. Every letter she’d sent to possible investors for the island had been met with silence, or scorn: Who was she but a lowly housekeeper whose life experience was confined to an orphanage? She couldn’t even argue with that view, when it was right.
He speared her with a glance. She guessed he could open any door. But not this door. She would keep her deathbed promise to Doña Anna, and continue the fight to keep the island unspoiled. Which, in Doña Anna’s language, meant no visitors—especially not a man who was looking at Rosie as if she were a piece of flotsam that had washed up on the beach. She would despatch him exactly as Doña Anna would have done, Rosie determined, standing her ground. Well, perhaps not quite the same way. She was more of a firm persuader than a shouter.
Her heart pounded with uneasiness as he strode towards her across the sand. She was alone and vulnerable. He’d chosen the best time of day to spring his surprise. Rosie had never made any secret of the fact that she liked to swim early in the morning before anyone was up. When she was alive, Doña Anna had encouraged this habit, saying Rosie should get some fresh air before spending all day in the house.
Snatching up her towel from the rock where she’d spread it out to dry, she covered herself modestly. Even so, she was hardly dressed for receiving visitors. The house was half a mile away up a steep cliff path, and no one would hear her cry for help—
She wouldn’t be calling for help. She owned fifty per cent of this island, with the other fifty per cent belonging to some absentee Spanish Grandee.
Don Xavier Del Rio was Doña Anna’s nephew, but as he hadn’t troubled to visit his aunt during Rosie’s time on the island, not even attending her funeral, Rosie doubted he would inconvenience himself now. According to Doña Anna, he was a playboy who lived life on the edge. As far as Rosie was concerned, he was a hard-hearted brute, who didn’t deserve such a lovely aunt.
Admittedly, when it came to his business, he seemed to be successful. But, billionaire or not, in Rosie’s view, he should have made some effort to visit Doña Anna—or perhaps he was just too important to care.
* * *
He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The girl had set herself up on the beach as if he were the intruder. ‘You’re right,’ he barked at her. ‘This is a private beach. So what the hell are you doing here?’
‘I own—I mean, I live on the island,’ she said, tipping her chin a little higher in what he supposed was an attempt to stare him in the eyes.
He towered over her. She was small and young and lithe, with long, striking red hair, and an expression that appeared candid, but was most definitely defiant and determined. She was pale, but outwardly composed. He knew who she was. The lawyer had warned him she might be difficult and not to be deceived by her innocent looks.
‘Did the lawyer send you?’ she challenged, seeming to have no guard on her tongue.
‘No one sent me,’ he replied, all the time assessing her keenly.
‘Then why are you here?’
Her clenched fists were the only sign that she was nervous. She had courage to stand up to him, but he wasn’t a bully and she was a young girl alone on the beach. He ordered his muscles to stand down. ‘I’m here to see you.’
‘Me?’
She put one small hand on the swell of plump breasts peeping above the towel. And then a stiff breeze caught hold of her hair and lifted it, tossing it about. The urge to fist a hank of it, so he could ease her head back and kiss her throat, was overwhelming.
She might hold appeal, but anyone who could persuade his crotchety aunt to leave them such a sizeable bequest had to be more conniving than she looked.
‘We have business to discuss.’ He glanced up the cliff towards the house.
‘You can only be one person,’ she said, levelling her cool amethyst gaze on him. ‘The lawyers have shown no interest in me, or in the island. They’re happy to let Isla Del Rey go to hell, and me with it. Every door in the city’s been slammed in my face. But I suppose you already know that...Don Xavier.’
He remained impassive. The day the contents of his aunt’s will had become known her lawyers had been in touch with him to profess their undying loyalty. The firm had worked for the Del Rio family for years, the head of the firm was at pains to remind him, and every associate was squarely behind Don Xavier in this most regrettable situation. There was a good case to challenge the will, the lawyer had assured him, no doubt rubbing his hands with glee at the thought of more fees to come. Xavier had dismissed the man’s suggestion out of hand. He would deal with the situation, as he would deal with this girl.
‘Are you responsible for me being ignored in the city?’ the girl now challenged him, firming her jaw with affront.
‘No,’ he said honestly. His aunt had always been mischievous, and never more so than when she had drawn up her will. Now he’d met the girl with whom he shared the bequest, he suspected Doña Anna must have taken much pleasure in putting as many obstacles in his way as she could before he could lay claim to an island that was rightfully his. ‘No doubt the money men think as I do, that the responsibility of Isla Del Rey cannot rest in the hands of one young girl.’
‘Well, I don’t suppose you’re interested in my opinion,’ she flashed back.
She was going to give it to him anyway, he suspected.
She proved him right. ‘Anyone lucky enough to have relatives should cherish them, not abandon them, however difficult they might be.’
‘Was that a dig at me?’ he asked with mild amusement. ‘Are you suggesting that I have as little claim to the island as you?’
‘You have the name,’ she conceded. ‘You also have the reputation. Why would your aunt leave the island she loved
above all things to a man as notorious as you?’
The bluntness of this statement silenced him for a moment, and he had to admit to some grudging respect. Her boldness was shocking, but it was also refreshing. He guessed her blunt character had been forged on the anvil of a difficult childhood. She’d had to find ways to survive, and had chosen logic and stubbornness over compliance and self-pity. She was brave. He’d give her that. Not many people would take him on.
‘No argument, Don Xavier?’
He raised a brow, but what she’d said was true. His reputation hung by a thread. He lived hard and fast, funded by the lifestyle his highly successful business ventures provided. He wasn’t interested in love and caring. They had only brought him disappointment in the past. He had no time for such things now. That was why he had avoided both the island and his aunt. He wasn’t proud to admit that the thought of rekindling the feelings he’d had for the old lady when he was a boy had made it easier for him to stay away. His parents had knocked all thoughts of love out of him. More grief? More regret? Why would he invite them in? He’d done what Doña Anna had asked him to do, which was to make more money to fund those schemes she would have been proud of, and that had to be enough.
But his mischievous aunt was asking more of him in her will. He could only imagine she had been playing games with him when she had added a particular caveat that stood in the way of him claiming his inheritance.
‘I imagine it’s the terms of your aunt’s will that brought you here,’ the girl commented forthrightly.
What business was it of hers?
Against his better judgement, his senses stirred as she continued to interrogate him with her astonishingly beautiful amethyst eyes.
‘We’re both here for the same reason, I imagine,’ he countered evenly. ‘To sort out the terms of the bequest.’
‘I live here, you don’t,’ she said, smiling a faint challenge at him.
Was she staking her claim? If she’d read the will, and he presumed she had, she would know he could forfeit his half of the island if he didn’t provide the estate with an heir within two years. It must have amused his aunt to put his infamous reputation to the test.
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