April Fool Bride Read online

  APRIL FOOL BRIDE

  An All Brides Are Beautiful Romance

  By

  JOAN REEVES

  Excerpt

  APRIL FOOL BRIDE

  An All Brides Are Beautiful Romance

  Copyright © 2014 by Joan Reeves

  Is it a marriage of convenience or something more? Something that sizzles like steam heat between Maddie and Jake that neither can resist.

  * * *

  Jake drained his cup and went back to the coffee carafe for more, using the time to mull over her "offer."

  He didn't know what was going on in that rich girl brain of hers, but whatever it was, it was definitely intriguing. And so was Maddie. He'd be lying if he said she didn't make his pulse throb. She wasn't conventionally pretty, but her face was arresting. Striking. Appealing in its sensuality.

  Her lips drew his gaze. Briefly, he allowed himself to think about covering her mouth with his. How would she taste? How would it feel to have her mouth on him. Heat uncurled within him, and he had to fight the images.

  He didn't have anything better to do at the moment, he told himself. So why not string her along? See what she wanted. He turned and faced Maddie. Crossing his arms, he leaning back against the black granite counter, aiming for nonchalance. "Okay. Tell me more. Who do I have to kill for this great financial opportunity?"

  "Oh, it's nothing like that," Maddie said in a rush. "You just have to marry me."

  APRIL FOOL BRIDE

  An All Brides Are Beautiful Romance

  Copyright © 2014 by Joan Reeves

  Smashwords Edition

  Discover more books by Joan Reeves at her website and her blog, SlingWords. Sign up for WordPlay, Joan's email newsletter for Readers, and receive book chat, new release news, and giveaway information.

  1All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be used or reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of Joan Reeves, the copyright owner and publisher of this book, with the exception of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products that may be referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication and/or use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person with whom you wish to share it. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should purchase your own copy. Thank you for honoring the copyright laws and for respecting the author's work and her livelihood.

  1Cover Art Copyright © 2014 by Adina Mayo, www.AdinaMayo.com (Adina at AdinaMayo dot com).

  ISBN: 9781310495557 (Courtesy of Smashwords.)

  APRIL FOOL BRIDE

  An All Brides Are Beautiful Romance

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Epilogue

  About April Fool Bride

  Sassy, Sexy Sizzling: Other Books by Joan Reeves

  Hello, Readers! Can We Talk?

  Excerpt, Second Chance Bride

  Quotation Collection: April Fools, Fools in General, and Jokes

  Dedication

  April Fool Bride is dedicated to Lauren and Fiona, two smart, beautiful--and totally cool--young women who are dear to me. I've known you both since you and Adina played together as children. Surely it's an April Fool's Joke that you're both grown, married, and have children of your own. Right?

  As always, this book is dedicated to my hero, my husband Larry. You have my heart.

  Chapter 1

  The first day of spring in New York featured the kind of weather Madeline Quinn most hated. Cold, gray, wet, and miserable which made it perfect because that's exactly the way she felt. Especially the miserable part since she had only from now until April first to accomplish a daunting task, and she was uncertain she could do it.

  Maddie gave a quick snort of laughter. April Fool's Day, how appropriate. The icy wind cut through her gray all-weather coat. She wished she were home. In Texas, March had brought golden sunshine, skies the color of a robin's egg, and bluebonnets dancing along the roadways. Back home in Houston, azaleas in every hue of pink and red enticed thousands of visitors to tour the Azalea Trail in her River Oaks neighborhood.

  Maddie glanced at the dirty snow against the curb. No wildflowers or blooming shrubs lined these city streets. Nothing grew in New York unless you counted the mounds of gray snow.

  Another blast of frigid wind hit her. Maddie shivered. Even Mother Nature conspired against her--pummeling the city with a late winter storm that kept her from fleeing home.

  Even though home with her stepmother was about as cold as New York and lonely too, at least she was used to that. She'd realized years ago that Constance Quinn had no love to give her sad little stepdaughter. Maddie wondered if her austere stepmother had love to give anyone or anything. For the most part, the woman her dad had married when Maddie was eight years old was pleasant to her. Civil. There was a certain comfort in knowing what to expect from the elegant blonde who had jumped from an accounting office in Edward Quinn's energy company to Edward's master bedroom. All within a year of the death of Maddie's mother. Constance simply had no interest--then or now--in her stepdaughter.

  Another gust of wind grabbed the ends of the turquoise wool scarf wrapped around Maddie's head. Hastily, she captured the finely-woven fabric and tucked the loose ends back beneath her coat collar. She should have stayed in the cab until the driver pulled up to the address she'd given him. But, as they'd neared her destination, her nerves had gained the upper hand. She'd panicked and impulsively decided to walk the final block so she'd have time to calm her nerves. She just hadn't expected it to be so darn cold.

  Maddie knew procrastination only delayed the inevitable. Procrastination, as Constance had often pointed out, was one of her many faults. But she'd needed the grace of these few minutes before she faced the man she'd flown to New York to see. Even Sister Theresa had scolded her about procrastination, but Maddie hadn't resented her favorite teacher's gentle admonitions. She'd worked to overcome her tendency to avoid the unpleasant. She knew if Sister Theresa were here, the elderly nun would be disappointed in her reversion to that bad habit.

  What the woman would say about Maddie's plan that had brought her to the Big Apple didn't bear contemplation. Delaying the meeting was foolish. Her anxiety would only continue to grow. She should just get it over with. She could do this. It wasn't as if she had a choice. Not if she wanted to make good on her promises. And she'd rather die than break those promises. Even her best friend Amy, who was also her attorney, had agreed that Maddie's plan was her last resort.

  Minutes later, Maddie stared up at a lovely old brownstone, surprised he lived in such an expensive neighborhood. Graciella had said he'd "ma
de good money" before he lost his job, buying her a house and allowing her to retire if she wanted. It must have been very good money, Maddie thought. She'd never doubted that he would be successful. He had the intelligence and the ambition to conquer anything. Even Wall Street apparently. She was proud of his achievements even though the only reason she was standing outside his building was because he'd lost his job in the economic downturn. She didn't know exactly what that job had been. Graciella had been rather vague about details, but Maddie had taken his sudden unemployment as opportunity. If she could focus on the present and avoid thinking of that horrible night when she'd been fifteen, she'd be all right. A sigh escaped her, and she saw her breath in the cold air. Was any cliché more appropriate than young and stupid?

  The front door of the old brownstone opened. Maddie hurried up the steps, smiling at the elderly man who saw her and held the door. Who said New Yorkers were rude?

  Maddie stepped into an oak-paneled vestibule. Her eyes scanned the call buttons and names. Anxiety knotted her stomach, and she suddenly felt weak all over. "Just suck it up and punch the damned button," she whispered.

  Fingers shaking, she pressed his call button then closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. After a couple of seconds, she pressed the button again. With her courage fading fast, she stabbed the button a third and fourth time in quick succession.

  "What?"

  The barked question from the speaker was loud in the small space and made her jump. Her heart pounded. Nine years had passed, but she still recognized his voice.

  Before she could answer, another impatient growl blasted from the speaker. "What do you want?"

  All the words in her brain disappeared. Just like the saliva in her mouth. Her throat felt as dry as a west Texas creek bed in a drought. If his voice affected her this way, what would seeing him again do to her?

  "Who the hell is this?"

  Maddie swallowed to moisten her parched throat. Her voice came out as a croak. "Hi, Jake. Uh, this is…I mean…"

  An electronic buzz and a loud click interrupted her. Maddie pushed against the heavy oak and glass door before she could change her mind. Another cleansing, calming breath didn't help. At least she had five flights of stairs to gain control of herself. She tried to deny the thought that any embarrassment or humiliation or anger--whatever he threw at her--was worth it if she got to see him again.

  As the carpeted stair treads passed beneath her feet, Maddie rehearsed her speech. She would present the proposition…She snorted. Wrong word. She definitely shouldn't call it a proposition. Employment opportunity. That's what she'd say. She'd explain it coolly and calmly. After all, she was an adult, not a lovesick teenager. He would either say yes or no. If it was no, then she'd accept that. She wasn't going to beg. Not like that night all those years ago. If he said no, she'd go home. That would be the end of it because he was the only man she could trust. She'd just bide her time and wait for the next ten years to pass.

  At least the trip wouldn't be a total waste. She'd get to see him again. Be in the same room with him. Breathe the same air he breathed. See his face. Hear his voice. Smell the scent that rose from his skin. Maddie groaned. She really had to stop thinking like that.

  Chapter 2

  Jake Becker scrubbed his hands over his face. He'd only had two hours of sleep. Sometimes it was hell having your business partners be your two best friends because they never took no for an answer when they wanted to celebrate until dawn. True, this latest deal had put several million in their respective bank accounts, but he'd grown tired of the obligatory blond party girl and the thirty-year-old bottle of Scotch featured in most celebrations. Unfortunately, Vince and Steve hadn't. Maybe something was wrong with him, Jake thought, but he wanted something different.

  Hearing that voice--her voice--had shocked him into full wakefulness. Madeline Maureen Quinn. Of all the women in the world, Maddie was the last he'd have expected to see on his doorstep.

  With her hesitant throaty whisper, the years had vanished. He'd been swept back to his bedroom in the servants' quarters of her family's mansion, with her too-thin, nearly-naked body pressed against him. Her skin had been so soft. Her hands so frantic, stroking down his chest to his waist. Fingers fumbling with the buttons on the fly of his jeans. Pleading with him to love her in the same sexy voice. A bolt of desire hit him just as it had then. Did she even know that voice of hers made a man want to scoop her up and cart her off to the nearest bed?

  Back then, he'd been confused. Too much beer after high school graduation would do that to a guy. When he'd realized it was Maddie in his bed--Maddie, the girl he'd thought of as a kid sister--he'd jumped as if someone had thrown ice water on him. Her awkward attempt at seduction had catapulted her out of the little sister category forever.

  Jake hurried into the bathroom and took care of his needs then grabbed some clothes from the closet. He was a pragmatist not given to dwelling on the past, but that particular memory haunted him. Oddly, that memory of Maddie, her voice--her sweetness--had got him through one of the toughest times of his life.

  That night nine years ago, he'd been barely eighteen to her fifteen. That night, he'd been full of grand plans for his future with a full-ride scholarship to Rice University in Houston paving his way. He had goals, dreams, and a determination to build a better life for himself and his mother who had worked as a housekeeper to provide a roof over his head after his dad had been killed in a car wreck years before. He'd had everything planned.

  When he'd realized that Maddie was the girl in his bed, he was trying to make sense of the situation when the lights in his room had flashed on. Constance Quinn towered above the bed, her face white with rage. She'd wrenched Maddie from his bed and had shaken her like a rag doll, shrieking as Maddie cowered before her. Deep wrenching sobs shook Maddie's slender frame. Clad only in white cotton panties and a camisole, she'd tried to cover her small breasts with her folded arms, her shoulders bowed as if she wanted to curl in upon herself.

  Even in his beer-befuddled state, he hadn't liked the way Constance was treating Maddie. He'd stripped the blanket from his bed and wrapped it around her, making soothing sounds to comfort her.

  Constance had shoved him away and pushed Maddie from the room. Then she'd slammed the door and turned her rage on him. He remembered being thankful that his mom had still been at Aunt Esther's home that evening. What happened next had killed his dreams and changed his life. His hands fisted. The bitter memories still had the power to anger him. He'd been powerless. His mother's employer had been all-powerful, holding his mother's income and the roof over her head--his head too--in her lily-white hands. He remembered being surprised that she hadn't slung racial insults at him based on his Hispanic heritage.

  Jake pulled on a pair of Levis, shoved his feet into an old pair of running shoes, and grabbed a worn gray Rice University sweatshirt. He hadn't seen Maddie since that night when she'd caused him to lose everything. It had taken a long time and a lot of hard work for him to make his dreams come true. He thought his anger had faded, but maybe he'd been fooling himself.

  Over the years, his mom kept him informed about what was happening in Maddie's life. Eventually, he'd told his mom what had transpired that night. He'd even told her that he didn't give a damn about Maddie Quinn, but that didn't stop Graciella Becker from passing on news of Maddie.

  By the time Maddie graduated from college, he didn't need his mother to tell him what the girl was up to. Every tabloid on the planet told of the "sexcapades" of Mad Maddie, the Houston oil heiress. After college, she'd taken to the trust fund babe lifestyle like a duck to water.

  Her first engagement, a total disaster to an obvious fortune hunter, lasted less time than Jake's first three months in Afghanistan. Her second engagement was over by the time the tabloids wrote about it. Jake's mouth tightened as he remembered the pictures in those papers. If they gave trophies for the heiress most likely to appear without underwear, Maddie would have been the sure bet to win
.

  When she'd been pulled over for driving under the influence, he'd been in a hospital, recovering from the firefight that had killed his best friend. He'd drifted in and out the first couple of days. Oddly enough, he'd dreamed of Maddie. Her soft, husky voice soothed him. He could swear he felt her hands caressing his forehead, smoothing his hair. He'd dreamed of her pressing against him, restoring him. Afterwards, he'd decided that pain meds were amazing hallucinogens capable of making you think just about anything.

  After Maddie's DUI, his mom never mentioned her again. He guessed that she'd finally realized the truth. The girl she'd mothered was just a bimbo with too much money and too much time on her hands.

  As for Jake, the memory of that night had been the fuel that propelled him to where he was now, if only to show Constance Quinn that she was wrong about him. He'd had fantasies of buying out all the Quinn Energy stock if it ever went public, but that's all they were--fantasies. His journey hadn't been easy. He'd worked three jobs and taken college classes whenever he could, eventually getting his degree in finance.

  Damn. He needed coffee. It was too early to be jogging down that particular memory lane. He slammed the door shut on the past and headed for the kitchen.

  A soft tap on his front door stopped him. With a muttered oath, he opened the door. Maddie stood with her gloved right hand upraised to knock. Her left hand pulled at a long blue scarf. The scarf came free, and her red-gold hair--more red than gold--tumbled down past her shoulders. Her green eyes, wide with surprise, met his gaze. Her heart-shaped face no longer radiated naiveté. Like a punch in the gut, he wondered if it was because her full lips, painted with sinfully red lipstick, disavowed any trace of innocence.