Claiming His Convenient Fiancée

The millionaire’s temporary engagement!

Impulsive Catriona Parkes-Wilson must retrieve a forgotten family heirloom, and if that means breaking into the mansion she grew up in, so be it! But she never expected to get caught by the house’s hot-tempered new owner, Alejandro Martinez, nor be forced into posing as his date for one night!

Desire rips through Alejandro the minute he sees Kitty, her reckless abandon igniting an animal urge to take her as his own. So when Kitty is mistaken as his fiancée, Alejandro is determined to take full advantage—and unleash the powerful hunger that rages between them!

‘We’re engaged?’ Alejandro sent Catriona a look.

With the bright lights gleaming from the house, this one was easy to interpret. He was amused?

‘It’s your fault,’ she declared, instantly defensive. ‘I was trying not to be predictable. You dared me.’

‘So it’s my fault?’

‘This entire mess is your fault.’ She nodded firmly.

He slowly stepped closer. ‘You don’t feel any responsibility, given you’re the one who broke in and tried to steal from me?’

‘I didn’t break in; I used a key. And I wasn’t stealing anything that belongs to you.’

‘No? I wonder…’ He was watching her closely, and then his smile returned, slow and seductive. ‘Catriona, you are going to pay for this, you know.’

‘Not in the way you’re thinking.’

He laughed and stepped nearer so he was right in her personal space. ‘Very much in the way I’m thinking. You think these sparks can be ignored?’

NATALIE ANDERSON adores a happy ending. So you can be sure you’ve got a happy ending in your hands right now—because she promises nothing less. Along with happy endings she loves peppermint-filled dark chocolate, pineapple juice and extremely long showers. Not to mention spending hours teasing her imaginary friends with dating dilemmas. She tends to torment them before eventually relenting and offering—you guessed it—a happy ending. She lives in Christchurch, New Zealand, with her gorgeous husband and four fabulous children.

If, like her, you love a happy ending, be sure to come and say hi on Facebook.com/authornataliea, follow @authornataliea on Twitter, or visit her website/blog: natalie-anderson.com.

Books by Natalie Anderson

Mills & Boon Modern Romance

The Forgotten Gallo Bride

Tycoon’s Terms of Engagement

Blame It on the Bikini

The Throne of San Felipe

The Secret That Shocked De Santis

The Mistress That Tamed De Santis

Mills & Boon Modern Tempted

Whose Bed Is It Anyway?

The Right Mr Wrong

Waking Up in the Wrong Bed

First Time Lucky?

Visit the Author Profile page

at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

Claiming His Convenient Fiancée

Natalie Anderson

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This one is for the nurses—Olivia, Akansha, Gavin, Glenda, Jo (and Arnie!), Karl, Maria, Naomi, Salma, Shannon and Shannon, and all the others who have helped us…you guys are amazing. Thank you so much for everything—not least teaching us Beanie!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

About the Author

Title Page

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

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

FRENETIC DRUM AND bass reverberated down the dark street. Irritation pulsed along Kitty Parkes-Wilson’s veins, keeping time with the relentless beat. It was too much to hope the neighbours would complain; no doubt they were wishing they could be at the party, all desperate to suck up to the rich new blood on the block.

Alejandro Martinez. Former management consultant turned venture capitalist. Millionaire. Promiscuous playboy. Party animal. And, since signing the documents three days ago, proud owner of the beautiful building in the heart of London that had, until said three days ago, been her family home. The home she’d grown up in, the one that had been in the family for more than five generations until her father had seized the wad of cash Alejandro Martinez had waved under his nose and skipped off to his sunny retirement villa in Corsica with his third picture-book-pretty wife. He’d cleared his debts and abandoned his failed business—and floored children.

All of which Kitty could handle. Just. Anyway, as much as she’d have liked to, the fact was she couldn’t have bought Parkes House herself. But she hadn’t even been told before it had been sold, and something had inadvertently been left in the Edwardian mansion. Something her father didn’t own and had no right to sell. And that she couldn’t cope with. Kitty Parkes-Wilson was on a retrieval mission and nothing and no one was going to stop her.

It wasn’t the necklace’s material worth that made it so important. Its loss meant her twin, Teddy, was in trouble, and her own heart was in trouble.

‘You can’t do this.’

She grinned at the way her brother could sound both aghast and excited.

‘You can’t stop me—I’m already here,’ she answered in a low voice, pressing her phone closer to her ear as she slowed down her pace just before arriving at her former home. ‘And you know I can do it.’

‘Damn it, Kitty, you’re crazy,’ Teddy growled. ‘You’re only just off the train; why do you have to rush into this? Come here and we can talk about it.’

If she stopped to talk about it too much, she’d lose her nerve. ‘The sooner I get it back the better. Now’s the perfect chance, what with the party and all.’

‘But what if you get caught—?’

‘I won’t,’ she impatiently interrupted. ‘He’ll be too busy partying with his models to notice me.’

Alejandro Martinez only dated supermodels, trading them in with efficient regularity. According to the theatre gossip Teddy had shared when he’d told her that the house was being sold, the current model was Saskia, the number one swimwear model in the North American sports magazine market. Kitty figured that with those legs to distract him, Mr Martinez would never notice the quick in-and-out of an uninvited party guest. Especially one who knew the secrets of the house and how to stay hidden as she snuck her way to the second-floor library.

‘It’s in the library post, right?’ She ignored her stomach’s hungry rumble and double-checked with her twin. ‘You’re sure about that?’

‘Positive.’ Her brother’s tone changed to out-and-out concerned again. ‘But Kitty, please, I’m really not sure—’

‘I’ll call you as soon as I’m clear, okay? Stop worrying.’ She ended the call before he could reply.

Adrenalin amped her muscles. She needed to concentrate and keep her confidence high. With a quick glance each way along the street, she quietly braced then hopped the fence. She ditched her small carry-on bag between a couple of shrubs and got to work.

Alejandro Martinez was not getting his hands on her Great-Aunt Margot’s diamond choker. He was not putting it on any of his many girlfriends. Kitty would go to prison before she let that happen. It was not a flashy bauble for a temporary lover.

The back door key was still hidden in the same spot of the communal gated garden where she’d first hidden it a decade before. No one but she and Teddy knew it existed or that it was there and so, despite the sale of the property, it hadn’t been handed to the new owner. She recovered it in less than ten seconds.

Phase one: complete.

She turned to look at the house. Brightly lit and in beautiful condition on the outside at least, it appeared to be the gleaming jewel in a row of similar styles. But Kitty knew the truth hidden beneath that freshly painted facade.

She made short work of the fence again then crossed to the corner of the street and found her way to the mews laneway behind the mansions. Her heart hammered as she neared the rear of the house. The lights were on, and she could see a catering worker at the sink.

That was when she threw her shoulders back and lifted her chin.

She unlocked the door, stepped in and smiled blithely at the kitchen hand, who looked up and gazed at her in astonishment. She waved the key at him and held her finger to her perfectly reddened lips. ‘Don’t tell him I’m here—I want to surprise him,’ she said as she confidently strolled past him and out into the corridor.

The dishwashing chap didn’t stop her. He didn’t say anything. He just turned back to the plate he was rinsing.

She’d learned a few things from sitting in on Teddy’s drama classes over the years.

Act confident. Fake it till you make it. Act like you own the place and people will believe you do.

People chose to believe the easiest option—the least trouble for them. And with her walking in all smiles, and with a key, who would doubt her right to be there?

Phase two: complete.

All she had to do now was head up the stairs to the private library, retrieve the necklace and get out again as fast as possible.

But curiosity bit. It had been months since she’d been home and now her heart ached with nostalgia for what she’d lost. In the three days since he’d taken over, what changes had Alejandro Martinez made?

Apparently he’d liked the look of the street and knocked on everyone’s doors to find someone willing to sell. Her father hadn’t been willing—he’d been desperate. Alejandro had been the answer to all his prayers. And Alejandro had got a good deal. House. Contents. Even the cars.

Winding up the company was one thing, but for her father to sell this home without saying a word to them beforehand was unforgivable. He’d sold everything in the house as well—only stopping to parcel up the few personal papers left in here. There were things she and Teddy might have liked, family treasures that had sentimental value. She didn’t care about the monetary side of things; she’d grown up knowing most of it would never be hers. Her father hadn’t thought of her—then again, he never had. But for once he’d not thought about Teddy either. Not that Teddy cared—he was glad not to have any reminders of the expectation he could never live up to. Except there was the last legacy from Great-Aunt Margot—the one Kitty had got her hair colour from, the one who’d given Kitty what confidence and fun she had. Great-Aunt Margot was her inspiration.

Kitty ventured down the corridor towards the bubble of music and chatter and laughter and glanced through the open doorway into the atrium.

The lighting there was much dimmer than in the kitchen. The guests probably thought it was low to set the ‘mood’ and make everyone look even more attractive, but they really didn’t need the help. No, the soft lighting was all about helping hide the aged, peeling paintwork and how much refurbishment and restoration work the house needed. It seemed Alejandro had had no hesitation in stripping the house of all its ‘maximalist’ decor—all the antique furniture, vases and fine china displays had vanished, and in their place were three dozen nubile, beautiful women. Every last one had to be a model. Kitty’s heart puckered. It was weird to have all these other women here, all relaxed and happy and looking as if they belonged, when she no longer did.

Stopping to look had been a mistake.

She skirted the back of the room to confidently—but not too quickly—walk up the stairs. She kept her head high, her shoulders back and sent a glimmer of a smile to the person she saw along the hallway glancing up after her.

Faking it. Making it.

The volume of the music lowered the higher up the stairs she went. By the time she got to the second floor it had become bearable background noise. There was no one in sight up here—the entire house had yet to be taken over by pumped-up party people. She’d timed her arrival just right—enough people were present for her to disappear into, but it wasn’t yet wild enough for them to be everywhere.

Despite the disappointment of seeing the stripped out interior below, she couldn’t resist pausing by the master bedroom. The door was open—inviting her—but when she peered carefully around it, she found she couldn’t step into the room. It was stuffed with boxes and furniture. So this was where everything from downstairs had been shoved. Her heart ached more and she quickly stepped along the hallway. Unfortunately, the library door was closed. She hovered a moment to listen, but heard nothing coming from within the room. Nervously, she turned the handle. To her relief it was dark inside and apparently unoccupied. She knew that if she left the door open, enough light would spill from the corridor for her to find her way. She smiled in anticipation as she lightly tiptoed to the shelves lining the farthest wall. This house had several secrets that the new owner would never know about—her father wouldn’t have thought to tell him any of it. Sure, the pleasure she felt at having knowledge over Alejandro Martinez was childish, but the way he’d waltzed in and snatched away her home made her smart.

On the fifth shelf up, behind the fourth book along from the left, there was a small lever. She depressed it and listened to the scratchy whirring sound as a small cavity opened up. She didn’t need to take the other books out; it was only a tiny safe—only large enough for a pile of notes written by bored children, or a coil of diamonds in a platinum setting left there by her forgetful, beloved, fool of a brother.

Kitty scooped them up, relief washing through her. She’d half expected them not to be there—Teddy’s recollections weren’t always accurate. But they were hers again and she could get them back to where they belonged. She’d hated the thought of letting Margot down—even though Margot was only alive in memory now.

Swallowing hard, she straightened the chain and put it around her neck, angling her head as she secured the clasp and then ran her finger along her throat to ensure the choker was sitting smoothly. The cold heaviness was familiar and made her heart ache all over again.

These were the only diamonds Margot had ever worn. She’d bought them for herself, by herself. She’d declared that she needed no man to buy her jewels and had lived her life in defiant independence, refusing to settle into any kind of expectation—ahead of her time and leaving Kitty in awe.

She wished the choker could be hers for good, but it was Teddy’s birthright and he’d given up everything else already. Kitty had nothing to lose.

She released her hair from the high topknot she’d coiled it into while on the train. To leave looking different from how she’d arrived was part of the plan and her hair served another purpose now—it mostly hid the gleaming necklace. She pushed the lever again and the compartment slid shut.

Phase three: complete.

Satisfied, she turned, ready to leave.

That was when she saw it—the man’s silhouette looming in the doorway. She froze. With the lack of light she couldn’t see his face, but she could see he held a phone in his hand. And she could see how tall he was. How broad. How impossible to slip past.

‘Hello?’ She wished she didn’t sound so scared.

She wished he’d answer.

Her heart took two seconds to start pumping again and when it did her pulse thumped loudly in her ears. She hadn’t heard him arrive. The floor in the library was wooden and she’d been certain she’d have heard approaching footsteps. But apparently this guy could enable stealth mode. Was he Security? How long had he been watching her? Had he seen what she’d done?

Apprehension fluttered in her belly.

‘She wasn’t wearing a necklace when she arrived,’ he slowly mused. Softly. Dangerously. ‘Yet she wears one now.’

She froze at that accented English, at that tone. She was definitely in trouble.

‘If you’d get your boss for me, I can explain,’ she bluffed haughtily.

‘My name is Alejandro Martinez,’ he replied, still in those soft, dangerous tones that made her skin prickle. ‘I am the boss.’

It was the devil himself. Of course. Kitty’s heart thundered.

He reached out a hand, casually closing the door. There was a split second of total darkness before he unerringly turned on the light.

Kitty rapidly blinked at the brightness. By the time the dancing spots cleared from her vision, he was less than a foot from her, his phone gone and his hands free.

She swallowed.

He was very close and very tall. She wasn’t short yet she had to tip her chin to look into his face. His hair was dark brown and thick and he was so good-looking, he ought to have been outlawed as hazardous to any woman’s attention span. Yes, Alejandro Martinez was fiendishly handsome with that olive skin, those chiselled features and those serious, assessing eyes.

Nervously, she flicked her hair in the hopes it would curl around her throat. She wasn’t getting past him in a hurry; there was only one exit out of this library and he’d closed the door.

‘No, there’s no point trying to hide it now,’ he mocked softly, but his eyes glittered like polished onyx. He slowly lifted a lock of her hair back with a lazy, arrogant finger. His penetrating gaze lingered on her neck, then raked down her body—her breasts, her waist, her legs. Every inch of her felt grazed.

‘A diamond collar for a lithe little cat burglar,’ he said. ‘How appropriate.’

To her horror, her body reacted to his unabashed sensual assessment of her and to his low accented tone. Her skin tightened. Heat flooded her cheeks, her lower belly and she fought the instinct to take a squirming step back.

Alejandro Martinez was so not her cup of tea. Too obvious. Too forceful. Too...everything.

‘A ginger she-cat,’ he added thoughtfully, his focus lifting to her face. ‘Rather rare.’

She bristled. She’d always hated her hair. She’d gone through a phase when she’d dyed it darker, only that had made her almost see-through skin and squillions of freckles look worse. In the end she’d given up and gone back to natural and faced the fact she was never going to be a ‘beauty’.

‘You know about the bookcase?’ she asked, trying to take control of the situation—of herself—and draw attention away from this awareness. But her voice sounded husky and uncertain. She had to get herself and the necklace out of here as fast as possible.

‘I do now. What other secrets do you know about this house?’ His gaze seemed to penetrate right through her. ‘What else are you planning to steal?’

A hot streak of stubbornness shot through her. She wasn’t going to tell him anything—not about the house, not about herself, not about the necklace.

So she just stared up at him silently, waiting for him to make his next move.

His expression hardened. ‘Give me the necklace,’ he said firmly.

She shook her head. ‘Possession is nine-tenths of the law,’ she muttered.

‘Possession?’ He suddenly looked even more intent, even more predatory as his jaw sharpened and his eyes gleamed as they locked on hers.

Heat unfurled low in her belly. Shocking, utterly unwanted, destructive heat.

‘It is very valuable,’ he noted, continuing to watch her way too closely for her comfort. Standing too close too. When had he moved closer?

Kitty struggled to keep her brain working. The necklace was valuable, but not only in the way he meant. It was all heart and memory to her.

‘You know it’s not yours,’ she said, determinedly meeting his gaze and refusing to step back and show his intimidation was working.

‘I am also willing to bet it’s not yours.’ His return gaze was ruthless. His stance was implacable.

But all that did was fire Kitty’s desire to defy him. This man had taken ownership of everything she loved. He wasn’t having this too. But she couldn’t halt the telltale guilty heat building in her cheeks.

The diamonds might not belong to her legally, but they were hers in her heart. Damn Teddy’s uselessness. ‘It’s mine to retrieve.’

And hers by love. No one loved this necklace more than her—more than that, she’d loved the woman who’d once owned it.

Alejandro shook his head slowly. ‘This building and everything in it belongs to me now.’ A small smile hovered at his mouth. ‘Seeing as you are so insistent to stay, I guess that includes you too.’

Oh, she did not belong to anyone—and most certainly not him. This display of ownership was outrageous and beyond arrogant. ‘Actually, I was just leaving,’ she snapped coldly.

‘No.’ That tantalising smile vanished and he firmly grasped her wrist.

Kitty couldn’t hide the tremble that rippled through her as she fisted her hand and tried to pull free from him.

‘I think that both the necklace and you will remain in my possession until we find the rightful owner.’ His eyes glinted. ‘Of both.’

Defiance burned, sharpening her senses. Surely he was just being provocative, except she had the feeling he meant it. He was clearly used to being in control and having all the power. She didn’t want to tell him the truth about the diamonds. She wouldn’t try to appeal to his sensitive side—it was all too obvious he didn’t have one. Arrogant jerk.

The pressure on her wrist grew—inexorably he drew her closer.

‘What are you doing?’ she gasped when he firmly ran his other hand across her stomach.

Alejandro didn’t answer as he swept his palm further around her waist. She was a slim thing and had little in the way of curves, most unlike the women he usually spent time with. And yet there was something undeniably attractive about her. Undeniably different. She was clad entirely in black—slim three-quarter-length trousers and a fitted black sweater that emphasised her tall but slender frame. Her eyes screamed outrage and he suppressed a smile at the stiffness of her body as he continued his search. Maybe that was it—she presented resistance, challenge. And for him that was novel.

‘You’re assaulting me?’ she snarled venomously.

‘Checking for a concealed weapon,’ he answered smoothly, but a grim defensiveness rose within at her accusation. Alejandro Martinez would never assault any woman. He was not like—no.

He forced his attention to his pretty prisoner, not his past. Her eyes were the weapons here and now, striking like twin daggers and making him smile, a respite from the memory that had flickered. Pleased, he removed the phone from where she’d tucked it into the waistband of her trousers.

He released her to study his prize. The phone wasn’t the latest model and had one of those covers that had a pocket for a couple of cards—a bank card and driver’s licence tucked inside. Perfect.

‘Catriona Parkes-Wilson.’ He read the name aloud, glancing to watch her reaction to the identification.

Soft colour bloomed in her pale cheeks again, and her emerald eyes flashed. She really was striking.

‘Kitty,’ she corrected him quickly.

Catriona—Kitty—Parkes-Wilson was the daughter of the man who’d sold him this house.