Married by Morning : Makeover Bride and Groom

by Shirley Jump

• ISBN13: 9780373039586
• ISBN10: 0373039581
• Format: Paperback
• Copyright: 2007-06-12
• Publisher: Harlequin

Summary

Gorgeous playboy Carter Matthews's favorite things are women and money. But the business he's inherited is broke, and his beautiful new employee seems immune to his charm.... Daphne Williams knows Carter's too rich and too handsome to fall for her. And anyway, she likes her perfectly ordered life just as it is. But Carter's decided to prove his reliability--by getting married! Ever-practical Daphne thinks the idea is ridiculous--even more so when she discovers that she's his chosen bride-to-be!

Excerpts

CARTER MATTHEWS screamed into the parking lot, road gravel spitting a wake behind him as he slid his red Lexus into a front space. The ads had said the car could go zero to sixty in the blink of an eye. They had lied. Carter's new toy could go zero to ahundred,making the Lexus worth every penny. He slid out of the car, feeling a twinge of guilt that he'd blown off most of the workday to take the car out for a spin. Pearl, his assistant, had given him her famous evil eye as he'd darted out the door this morning, barely five minutes after striding through it. What Pearl didn't understand was that TweedleDee Toys was undoubtedly better off when Carter wasn't running the ship. "Mr. Matthews! I'm glad I found you!" He spun around. Mike, TweedleDee's design intern, scrambled across the parking lot, trying to hold a bulky paper bag against his chest with one hand while keeping his glasses on his nose with the other. "I...well, we, had this brainstorm today and the guys wanted me to rush over to you." He thrust the bag at Carter, then caught his breath. "Meet Cemetery Kitty. We think it's going to revolutionize the stuffed animal industry." "Cemetery Kitty? As in another stuffed animal?" Carter tried to work some enthusiasm into his voice. This week, he'd given his toy designers a single taskto come up with something to wow the buyers at this fall's Toy Convention. he'd expected a water blasting outdoor gun, a snazzy remote control car, anything but one more faux fur pet. "Are you going to look at it now?" Mike's entire body went frenetic with anticipation. He clasped and unclasped his hands, nodding at the bag. "You, ah, haven't been in the office all that much, so I thought I'd track you down. If you like it, we can rush right into production." The stuffed toy would undoubtedly be one more in a string of failures, but he didn't voice his reservations, not while he was still riding the high of driving his new car. He had no desire to ruin that by inserting the failing toy business into the mix. "It's been a long day. I'll look at it later. But thanks." He gave Mike a wave, then headed into his building. The intern who had enthusiastically cleaned out the office supplies cupboard and colorcoded the Postit notes, remained undaunted and caught up with Carter. "Mr. Matthews?" Carter turned around, at the same time tapping the car's locking remote, waiting for the answering beep. "Yeah, Mike?" "Uh, the guys are kinda concerned," Mike said, clearly here as the sacrificial lamb for the employees. "You're not at work a whole lot and well, with your uncle Harry gone and all, we, ah, kind of wanted some direction." Carter glanced at the Lexus. About the only thing he had experience directing was a fast car. And a few fast women. Every time he tried to manage the toy company, all he'd done was manage it further underground. So he'd abandoned it today, just as he had last Wednesday to play golf, and the Tuesday before that for a rousing tennis match with his brother. Lately he'd been out of the office more than in. Considering Carter's managerial abilities, it was a good thing all around if he stayed away. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to hire a manager. To admit failure. Again. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mike," Carter said, because he didn't have an answer to the whole direction thing. Hell, even Carter didn't know which direction to head. Mike hesitated a second longer, then pushed his glasses up his nose and said goodbye. He crossed the lot, shoulders hunched, steps heavy and measured and looked back, two, three times, then slipped into his battered tenyearold green truck and left. Carter let out a sigh, climbed the stairs to his apartment, let himself in, dropped his keys in the crystal dish by the door, then opened the bag. Inside was a cat. Lifesize, gray and wh