Excerpt
Silence fell.
Rip spun away. His lungs emptied of air as he struggled to understand the betrayal of a man he’d trusted. The late afternoon sunlight streamed through the oversized bay windows, wrapping the room in golden light. He watched the effect the sunbeams had on the office. Swirling tendrils of pain and emptiness ripped at his insides, fighting to get out, but he forced them back, his many years of discipline winning over his temptation to let the emotions run rampant.
Odd that as angry as he was, he felt the bitterness more intently; that the past year as Edward’s right-hand man and friend meant nothing. Rip couldn’t take over the family business because he wasn’t family. All his work, care, and sacrifice to bring the winery back from bankruptcy didn’t matter. Blood mattered.
Once again, Rip found himself chasing a prize that danced just out of reach, like the shadow chased the elusive light of the sun.
And once again, he found himself back in the darkness.
So be it.
He swiveled on his heel and schooled his face to show no emotion. The ending was clear to him, and there was no doubt he’d win. He’d learned the lesson early, trapped in an abusive home, craving a life that was bigger and better and beyond reach. Sometimes, he believed he’d gotten there, only to realize it had only been a mirage—like now.
None of it mattered. He wanted Winsor Winery for himself. If the only way to do it was to marry a rich, spoiled heiress, he’d do it. If he had to make her fall in love with him, he would. If he had to lie, or deceive, he would. And by God, he’d have no blood on his hands because it was her own father who’d forced his hand.
“Where is she?”
“In Milan. I’ll give you her address.”
He gave a curt nod. “Don’t let her know I’m coming. I’d prefer to do this on my own, without any interference.”
Edward looked torn. “She deserves to hear the truth from me.”
“Then give me at least a week. Give me some time to get to know her before you bring up the idea of marriage. I’d like to see if we can even make this work between us.”
Slowly, the older man nodded. “One week. Then I’ll call and explain everything. If you both feel you can’t go through with it, I’ll accept your resignation.”
“Fine. I’ll go make the arrangements.” He swiveled on his heel but the sound of his name made him pause. “Yes?”
“I know you don’t believe me now, but I’m doing what I believe is best. For both of you.”
A thousand different responses rose to his lips, but Rip bit them all back, leaving Edward Winsor alone in silence.
It was time to go meet his future wife.
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About the Author
Jennifer Probst wrote her first book at twelve years old. She bound it in a folder, read it to her classmates, and hasn’t stopped writing since. She took a short hiatus to get married, get pregnant, buy a house, get pregnant again, pursue a master’s in English Literature, and rescue two shelter dogs. Now she is writing again.
She makes her home in Upstate New York with the whole crew. Her sons keep her active, stressed, joyous, and sad her house will never be truly clean.
She is the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling author of sexy and erotic contemporary romance. She was thrilled her book, The Marriage Bargain, was ranked #6 on Amazon's Best Books for 2012. She loves hearing from readers. Visit her website for updates on new releases and her street team at www.jenniferprobst.com.
