Daniel's Bride by Joanne Hill

reached for his wine, took a long swallow. He gestured to
her glass. “Drink.”
    She wasn’t satisfied. “I don’t understand why, of all the
women in the world, you’ve asked me, because you don’t know me, either.”
    He set his glass down, pulled a roll from the breadbasket.
“You tick most of the boxes.”
    She bristled. “You had me checked out?”
    “Thoroughly.”
    “So there’s some sort of pre-nuptial to protect your
interests?”
    He rubbed his temples. “I’m hardly likely to enter in to an
agreement without one.” He exhaled suddenly, and put the bread on his side
plate. “Mel. This is a temporary arrangement. Six months max. I know you don’t
have a job, you’re looking for a place to live, and this is a solution. You’ll
end up with a hefty pay check and you can do whatever the heck you want with
it.”
    Her mind suddenly got stuck on what he’d said. A hefty pay
check. He’d mentioned financial compensation before but that hadn’t meant much
because it was the most ludicrous thing she’d ever heard.
    She reached for her glass of wine, and took a careful sip.
Compensation might make her at least consider this proposition, even though it
would be a cold day in hell before she agreed to it.
    “What kind of compensation are we talking?”
    He pulled a pen from his pocket, wrote a figure on a paper
serviette and passed it over the table to her.
    She took it, stared, and nearly choked.
    She quickly regrouped, pushed the paper back, ignored that
smarmy look on his face, and remembered to breathe. Inside she was a mess. That
morning she’d spent far too long looking at a new retirement village that her
mother would just love. It was close to the Tasman Sea with a beautiful,
peaceful outlook, the facilities were outstanding, the menu read like a four
star hotel – and it cost. Boy, did it cost, and as she’d viewed page after
page, her heart had sunk lower and lower. She could never afford something like
this for Ellie. Even maintaining the cable TV subscription for the footie was
looking doubtful.
    Mel took a mouthful of penne but it tasted dry and rough,
even though it had been prepared by one of Sydney’s top chefs. She set her fork
down.
    Daniel Christie wanted to marry her and she would get paid
for it. She would be able to clear the credit card debt she’d accrued, find a
flat closer to Ellie. She wouldn’t be able to afford to move her into a better
place just yet, but there were a lot of little things she could do to make
Ellie’s life a far, far better one. And Mel owed her mother. Emotion clogged
her throat. She owed her mother everything.
    Have mercy on my soul, she thought, as she ground out, “How
would it work?”
    He steepled his fingers. “You’d move in to my apartment,
obviously, so to the world we appear to be living as husband and wife. You’d
have your own suite. It’s a large apartment on the cliffs overlooking the beach
at Bondi. I’d cover all your expenses while you’re my wife and when the time is
up, you get a check.”
    “And when it’s all over?” she prodded. “What happens then
with regard to the marriage?”
    “A simple divorce. We file and one year later, you’re a free
woman, I’m a free man and it can just be chalked up to Irreconcilable
Differences.”
    She bit down on her lip. She was a free woman. What would a
piece of paper with ‘dissolution of marriage’ stamped on it mean, anyway?
    She closed her eyes as her chest tightened. Her mother would
be horrified if she found out that Mel had married for money to help her.
    But where on earth could she get the kind of money that
would provide so much for her mother’s care, not to mention the mounting
balance on her credit card while she’d been job hunting. Frustration rose in
her chest. And there was the fact that she’d been planning marriage to Max just
two months ago. What kind of flaky woman did that make her? Two engagements in
one year? Any future boyfriend would run a mile once he