Judy Christenberry - Rent A Millionaire Groom

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Judy Christenberry has been writing romances for fifteen years because she loves happy endings as much as her readers. Judy quit teaching French recently and devoted her time to writing. She hopes readers have as much fun reading her stories as she does writing them. She spends her spare time reading, watching her favorite sports teams and keeping track of her two daughters. Judy’s a native Texan, but now lives in Arizona.

When three best friends need advice on finding that perfect love match they turn to the wisest relationship book around…

2001 WAYS TO WED

You’ve probably dreamed about your wedding since you were a girl. Was your someday wedding a lavish event fit for a princess, or an intimate, candlelit ceremony at a town-square church? You likely imagined a dress to die for and a ring with endless glitter. What song would mark your first dance as man and wife?

Back then, the wedding was of more interest than the groom. Boys were…well…icky. As a woman, your feelings about the opposite sex have come a long way from “icky”—you like men! So much, in fact, that you’d like to spend your life with one.

This book offers rock-solid advice about getting on the path to a happy marriage. First, you’ve got to stop treating the dating scene like a grab bag, taking the first “prize” you get your hands on. You’re a beautiful, talented, giving woman—and there’s an equally wonderful man out there for you. And with 2001 WAYS TO WED, you’re sure to find—and marry—him!

Prologue

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

Chapter Seventeen

Elise Foster paused outside the front window of The Prickly Pear, spotting her two best friends through the plate glass.

The three of them were so different. Phoebe was a tall, beautiful blonde, the kind of woman men noticed. Not that they could ignore Daisy, with her auburn hair and vibrant smile. Elise considered herself to be average in looks compared to the other two, but tonight she had the answer to their problem.

With a pleased smile, she swung open the door and entered their favorite meeting place, a café and bar near Mesa Blue, the condominium complex where they all lived. “Sorry I’m late,” she said by way of a greeting.

“No problem,” Phoebe said with a grin. “We’ve been looking for potential candidates.”

“And?” Elise asked, wondering if her solution might not be needed.

Daisy didn’t smile. “Nothing. No one.”

“Daisy, maybe you’re being too…too choosey,” Phoebe said gently. “You know, there really aren’t any Prince Charmings out there. Just ordinary guys.”

Daisy stared her friend down. “Maybe not, but he should at least make me want—want him.”

“She’s got you there,” Elise agreed. Her friend had recently visited her doctor. After suffering from endometriosis for years, Daisy had to get pregnant in the very near future if she was ever to have a child. And she desperately wanted a baby.

That’s why Phoebe and Elise were trying to help her, in spite of their own reluctance to march down the aisle. So far they’d had no luck.

Elise put a package on the table. “I have a solution.”

Her friends stared at the small shopping bag and then at her.

Daisy leaned forward. “I had someone a little taller in mind, Elise.”

Elise grinned in return. “That’s the solution to finding the man, silly, not the man himself.”

“Whew, that’s a relief,” Phoebe said with a chuckle. “I thought maybe you’d found a store named Daddys Are Us, or something.”

“I wish I had. It would make things easier. No, I stopped by the bookstore on the way here.”

Her friends rolled their eyes.

“Like that’s unusual,” Phoebe muttered.

Ignoring them, Elise pulled a book from the bag. “Ta-da!”

Both women leaned closer, staring at the title, 2001 WAYS TO WED.

“You’re kidding, right?” Phoebe demanded. “You bought one of those books that tells you never to go out without your makeup? To learn how to cook gourmet meals and always agree with whatever he says?”

“No, this book is different. It’s—it’s sensible.”

Daisy pulled the book from Elise’s grasp and opened it.

“Well?” Phoebe asked as she leaned over to look, too.

“It does seem to be practical. It says to smile a lot. To be positive. To think good thoughts about yourself.” Daisy chewed on her bottom lip as she studied the words.

Elise noticed several men with their attention fixed on Daisy, clearly intrigued by her. That was why the entire campaign seemed ridiculous. Men wanted Daisy, but so far Daisy hadn’t come up with a man she wanted.

Phoebe had suggested she and Elise help by introducing any men they knew. Unfortunately, Elise didn’t know many men. She’d sworn off them a long time ago. And the only man in the Foreign Language Department at Arizona State University where she taught was Herr Gutenberg. At 5 foot 6 inches, with no hair, the 60-year-old wasn’t the man for Daisy.

Their favorite waiter, George, arrived at the table. “Hey, Elise, what can I bring you?”

“A diet cola, George. I’ve got to keep a clear mind tonight.” That was a running joke, since Elise always ordered a diet cola.

“Aha, big doin’s this evening?”

“Yep. We’re on a search.”

George, assuming she was joking, said, “Well, if you find the meaning of life, let me know.” Then he took their orders and headed for the kitchen.

When they were alone once more, Elise said, “We’ll all three study this book. Surely, then, we’ll be able to find the perfect candidate for Daisy.”

“And maybe for both of you, too,” Daisy added, a hopeful smile on her face.

“No, thank you,” Phoebe and Elise said together.

They both laughed. Then Phoebe added, “Some people aren’t meant to be married, sweetie. I’m one of those.”

“And I have my career to think of, you know,” Elise added. “No, we’ll help you, but we’re not interested in husbands.”

Elise Foster hung up the phone and ran a hand frustratedly through her hair. Her mother was going to drive her crazy. As the eldest of seven sisters, Elise had lived through five weddings featuring her sisters. Now Sharon, the baby, was getting married.

Her mother was concerned about Elise’s old-maid status. And she’d urged her other daughters to talk to Elise about her solitary state, also. It seemed at least one of them called every day.

The situation hadn’t been helped when she received a wedding invitation in the mail yesterday from her ex-fiancé.

Their engagement had ended twelve years ago, at the end of Elise’s senior year in college. She’d discovered Richard wasn’t interested in her, just in a good hostess for his blossoming career. She, of course, wasn’t expected to have a career. It might interfere with his.

Even the fact that this was his second wedding didn’t settle her stomach. Nor did the fact that she didn’t want a husband.

But she wanted a fiancé badly.

That thought had been running around her mind for several days. A fiancé—temporary, of course—would get her sisters and her mother off her back. And she wouldn’t feel she had to justify choosing to be alone every time she was introduced to someone new at her sister’s wedding.

If she had a best friend, a hunk, hanging around, she’d ask him to do her a favor and pretend for a few days that he couldn’t live without her.

But all her friends were female.

With a sigh she settled back in her chair. Her gaze lit on the book she’d bought, 2001 WAYS TO WED. If she were searching for a real husband…but she wasn’t. She had kept the book, however, to study it before she passed it over to Phoebe.

Maybe she should “hire” a fiancé. But that would mean going to an escort service. She’d heard those places were…distasteful. Besides, she wanted someone who would draw envy from her sisters. She wanted Prince Charming.

She picked up the book and idly flipped through it. She’d already read it several times. Then, suddenly, she sat upright in her chair. Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of that before?

The chapter entitled “Don’t Forget Your Neighbors” had given her an idea. She didn’t have any neighbors at home who would do. But at work, that was another matter. ASU had an excellent Drama Department. She could hire a starving actor to be her fiancé.

She hurried from her office. One of her fellow professors, Dr. Grable, had worked with the Drama Department last semester when they’d been producing one of Molière’s plays. Maybe she could recommend someone.

Several hours later, after teaching her two o’clock class and delicately questioning Cecille Grable, Elise took a deep breath and headed for the Drama Department.

Cecille’s response kept playing in her mind. “Well, if you’re looking for what the young ladies today call a hunk, I’d recommend Bobby Dillon. He’s a teaching assistant, a little older than the college students, but he grabs the eye. If one is interested in such things.” Cecille, nearing retirement age, had a twinkle in her eye that told Elise even she was still interested in such things.

Elise opened the door to the semi-dark auditorium and slid into the last row of seats, hoping her eyes would adjust quickly to the dim light. On stage, a number of students were going through their lines.

How was she going to identify the young man? And heavens, she hoped he didn’t look too young. There were several handsome young men on stage, but—

“Repeat that line. I couldn’t hear it at all.”

The deep, silky voice that gave the command came from the center of the auditorium. Elise hadn’t noticed the man slumped down in his chair.

The voice alone made him perfect for her needs. He could read the telephone directory and she’d be enthralled. No wonder he was in the Drama Department. He had a great future ahead of him.

Of course, she also hoped he was handsome. But Cecille had said—

The house lights came up and the man stood. Tall, broad-shouldered, trim. So far so good. Elise quickly rose and hurried down the aisle, determined to catch him before he moved to the stage and they had an audience.

“Mr. Dillon?” she called softly.

He’d just reached the end of the row of seats and he spun around, as if startled. With a frown, he replied, “Yes?”

“May I have a word with you?”

He didn’t look any too happy, so she quickly added, “It’s about a job.”

He stared at her, and she felt her cheeks flush. She wasn’t used to such concentrated interest. He began, “The normal channels—”

“It’s—it’s personal. I mean, I don’t need you to appear on stage, but—it’s rather difficult to explain. I’ll be glad to buy you a cup of coffee while I try to make it clear. I haven’t figured out how much to offer you, but I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“You’re offering me a job?”

His surprise didn’t make sense, unless it was caused by his pride. “Why, yes. Please don’t be embarrassed. I understand acting jobs aren’t too plentiful unless you’re in Hollywood.” He continued to stare at her. “You are Bobby Dillon, aren’t you?”