Promoted to Wife (Destiny Bay)

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Promoted to Wife (Destiny Bay) Page 1

by Conrad, Helen




  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

  Copyright © 2013 Helen Conrad

  Cover Copyright © 2013 DoorKnock Publishing

  Cover images from Shutterstock.com

  First Edition April, 2013 published by DoorKnock Publishing

  Promoted to Wife

  Destiny Bay Book 5

  By Helen Conrad

  She has to prove she can do the job as butler. But is sleeping with the hot shot son part of the job description?

  Terry Yardley is trying to keep her father’s butlering job open for him until he recovers from an accident by doing the work herself. Cleaning and preparing for a ball she can handle, but no one told her she would have to deal with a blow up doll, a set of hard-to-handle children, Rick’s Aunt Julia and the very sexy Carrington gentleman himself.

  Destiny Bay-Forever Yours

  Book 1-My Little Runaway

  Book 2-Wife For a Night

  Book 3-Too Scared to Breathe

  Book 4-Make Believe Wife

  Book 5-Promoted to Wife

  Book 6-Not the Marrying Kind

  PROMOTED TO WIFE

  The three children of Dr. Stephen Carrington, wealthy local patriarch.

  His wife is Grace Carrington, an internationally known poet.

  Kathy Carrington~oldest daughter of Dr. Stephen, Kathy was expected to do great things—but what she was best at—swimming—didn’t quite fit the roadmap her father had for her, and he let her know she was a disappointment at every turn. She’s now married to:

  Jason Harper~known as Jace, he’s a former Olympic swimmer and Kathy’s idol from the days when she was winning. She proves herself to him daily in so many ways, even if her father is still blind to her true worth.

  Rick Carrington~ a widower with two young children who scare him to death, and a yen for good practical jokes. Who could have guessed he might fall in love with the butler?

  Terry Yardley~the butler. She’s only taking her father’s place until he’s well enough to take over, but she soon finds herself falling for Rick, as well as his children.

  The Children

  Jeremy~The five year old boy who carries around a koala bear and secretly loves his dad.

  Erica~Rick’s twelve year old daughter, a faux sophisticate at a young age and seemingly quite disgusted with her situation. In truth, she’s in emotional pain and doesn’t know how to fix it.

  Shelley Carrington~the baby of the family developing a career in clinical psychology and trying to convince herself she has no time for men, a sad lie Michael Hudson will have to deal with in the next book, Not The Marrying Kind.

  The three sons of Richard Carrington, wealthy attorney

  and Martha Grover Carrington.

  Reid Carrington~ambitious attorney determined to restore the reputation of his family after his father’s scandal almost ruined them. Now he’s married to:

  Jennifer Thornton ~who grew up next door to the Carringtons, but left in order to save her parents from heartbreak. Now she hopes to bring her family new joy with the birth of her baby.

  Matt Carrington~has been gone for years after a rift with his father sent him into undercover work in Los Angeles. He owns hotels in Destiny Bay and Hawaii and is now married to:

  Janet Cardona~a lovely young woman he met while running a major con on a swindler. She almost ruined his operation but ended up changing his life instead. The baby she’s carrying will bring them even more changes.

  Grant Carrington~always a rebel, Grant went against his father’s plans for him and became a race car driver whose championship career was recently in jeopardy over serious injuries—physical and emotional-- suffered in a crash.

  Carrie Harlow~Mickey’s cousin, a young physical therapist who has recently returned home to Destiny Bay. Now married to Grant, she’s carrying Carrington baby number three.

  A Few Others

  Calvin Carrington~Dr. Stephen’s father, grandfather to most of the younger Carringtons, lately living in a senior home but coming back to stay in his mansion in Destiny Bay.

  Aunt Julia Carrington~Calvin’s sister and Rick’s favorite great-aunt.

  Charles~the Chauffer

  Johnny Carrington~Rick’s favorite cousin and his best friend, always ready with a joke or two.

  Tag Carrington~a Carrington cousin, younger and more adrift, he lives mostly on his boat and avoids all risk of becoming a responsible adult. He loves Mickey but is allergic to commitment and trying to stay out of the way of her happiness.

  Missy Carrington~ Missy and her brother Tag spent too many years being hauled around the countryside as children by their hippy mother and now pay the price. She’s shy and somewhat agoraphobic.

  Mickey Adams~owner and proprietor of Mickey’s on the Bay, a local café where the Carringtons tend to hang out. She’s hopelessly in love with the much younger Tag and torn between him and the wealthy man who could make the future so much brighter for her and her child:

  Meggie Adams~Mickey’s adorable three year old

  Robert Harding~wealthy financier who wants to make Mickey his own.

  Tables of Contents

  Copyright Info

  Title Page

  Cast of Characters

  CHAPTER ONE: Carry On, Jeeves

  CHAPTER TWO: The Kids Are Coming!

  CHAPTER THREE: A Butler’s Work Is Never Done

  CHAPTER FOUR: No Matter What You Do

  CHAPTER FIVE: They Don’t Promote Butlers To Wife

  CHAPTER SIX: At His Command

  CHAPTER SEVEN: Aunt Julia Shakes Things Up

  CHAPTER EIGHT: A Force To Be Reckoned With

  CHAPTER NINE: Learning Navigation

  CHAPTER TEN: Koalas Need Mothers Too

  CHAPTER ELEVEN: The Night They Were Dancing….

  Also Available from Doorknock Publishing

  Excerpt from Not The Marrying Kind

  Excerpt from Dead Furst

  CHAPTER ONE:

  Carry On, Jeeves

  Oh oh. Time to panic.

  Terry Yardley held her breath and listened. Someone was coming up the long, circular driveway to the old Carrington mansion. No one was supposed to be here until Saturday.

  “Darn,” she whispered, eyes wide, nerves jangling.

  She’d counted on a good two days to get things under control—and to work up an explanation as to why she was here, and not her father—the real butler.

  She set down her feather duster and looked around at the long, carpeted hallway. She'd just finished dusting the family portraits that lined the hall, polishing up each ancient Carrington, getting them ready to greet their current family members. Ordinarily this work would have been assigned to the maid, but no maids had appeared as yet, so Terry was doing it.

  Why? Because she was the butler, that’s why.

  She’d known from the beginning it was going to be tricky pulling this off. Butlers weren’t usually female. Especially not young, relatively attractive females such as she was—if she did say so herself. But she had to make this work. She owed as much to her father. She had to save his job for him.

  She knew people were going to frown. If there was a woman in the family group about to arrive, she might do more than that. She knew the risks and she was prepared.

  That is—she thought she was. Once she got to the Carrington mansion and began going through
the place, the size and scope began to scare her. Could she really pull this off?

  And then she’d heard the car. This was too soon! She wasn’t ready. But maybe it was just a delivery. Or the chimney sweep she’d hired. Sure, that was it. Had to be.

  She rushed to a window and looked down from the second floor bedroom, expecting to see a workman's van. Instead, her wide eyes took in the purring approach of a low-slung, candy-apple-red Ferrari.

  “Scratch the relief,” she whispered to herself, goose bumps prickling across her skin, “and prepare for a complete freak-out. The Carringtons have arrived.”

  She pulled back from the window and tried not to hyperventilate. It was going to be okay. She had to be cool. She had to project dignity. After all, butlers were figures of calm and authority.

  “Ah, Mr. Carrington, I presume?” she would say, giving a little bow. “I’m afraid you’ve caught me unprepared.”

  And improperly dressed! Terry turned to look at herself in the enormous mirror at the end of the upper hallway. She was wearing tiny white shorts that barely covered her bottom and a plaid, cotton blouse that was missing two buttons. She'd pulled out the ends to tie in a big knot between her breasts—and that gave quite a revealing view of her flat, tanned stomach. Her long, smooth legs made her look like a Spring colt—or filly might be more apt. Staring in horror at the mirror, Terry knew she was scantily clad for a meeting with the master of the house.

  “What's wrong with this picture?”

  That's what she looked like. It was no good. There was just no way the Carringtons were going to believe she was the new butler.

  She groaned. For all her thirty years of age, she felt like a child again. A child caught where she wasn't supposed to be. She wasn't ready for this. What could she do?

  The sound of the front door opening rocketed through the hall. It was too late to get out of the house. She was going to have to bite the bullet and do the best she could. Gritting her teeth, she started out onto the landing.

  Looking down, she expected to see Dr. Stephen Carrington and his wife, Grace, escorting in Calvin Carrington, the elderly grandfather of the entire crew. She didn’t know them really, but she’d seen them all years ago and would have recognized them immediately.

  So she knew right away—this wasn’t them.

  This was one man on his own, and he wasn’t the good doctor—or the grandfather. Too young. Too incredibly fit. Too smooth and athletic. Too good looking.

  It was their son, Rick Carrington, and she was a dead duck.

  Rick Carrington! Her father hadn’t said he might be involved. What if he recognized her? No, he wouldn’t recognize her. It had been a good fourteen years—and he’d only seen her lurking in the shadows, completely smitten with him, but young and not someone he would have noticed at all.

  Still—she’d noticed him!

  No! She couldn't face him like this.

  “Panic wins this round,” she muttered to herself as she fled down the hallway.

  Rick Carrington—wow. Talk about dredging up old memories. She’d only seen him sporadically as she was growing up, and he was a good five years older than she was, but he’d been her main crush once puberty hit.

  This town—Destiny Bay—sometimes seemed to be crawling with Carringtons—the entire family was a sort of small town royalty. At least, that was the way it had seemed when she was a child and had visited this very place on her breaks from boarding school. Only, she hadn’t come into the mansion. She’d been marooned in the small cottage off the rose garden where the butler lived, watching Carringtons out the window and being told, “Careful, stay quiet, stay still, don’t bother anyone,” so constantly, she’d pretty much learned to resent the Carrington family.

  She’d spent the last decade and more living down in Los Angeles, far from Destiny Bay, and she’d only come back because she had to help her father get his old job back. She only hoped this wouldn’t ruin her chances. She had been ready to meet the Carringtons with pride and professionalism. She was an adult, after all. She’d thought she’d do fine, but Rick Carrington hadn't entered her calculations.

  Maybe he'd only stopped in to check on the house. Maybe he would grab a sweater from the downstairs hall closet and go back out again. Maybe he would find the house empty and take off for the golf course or the polo field. Maybe, for once, she'd be lucky.

  A set of big double doors was standing open. Not thinking, Terry dashed inside and shut them behind her, then stepped back to see where she'd landed.

  She wasn't completely familiar with the house yet. She’d only been there since the morning, and this room wasn't one she'd explored. But she thought she knew whose it was. It looked very much like the master bedroom to her.

  “Not the best move,” she chided herself.

  But it was too late to do much about it. With her hand on the doorknob, she heard his tread on the wide stairway. He was whistling--and coming right this way. Of course—where else would he go?

  “Arrgghh!” she moaned very low, shaking her head. This was ridiculous. She ought to step out and meet him. She'd pretend she'd been tidying up his room.

  “Ah, Mr. Carrington,” she'd say with cool dignity. “So you've returned home early. Might I have a word with you, sir? You see, I'm the new butler.”

  “Certainly,” he'd answer with a flourish. “It's Jeeves, isn't it? I'd have known you anywhere, my good woman.”

  Fat chance.

  Nope. It was either under the bed or into the closet.

  The complete humiliation of being found lurking under a bed was just a hair more excruciating than the embarrassment of being caught in a closet. She opted for the latter with all due speed—and then heard his hand at the door.

  She pulled the double doors closed, backed into the lengthy walk-in closet and into the hanging shirts, blinked once in the darkness, then held her breath. If he would just dump his things and go, she would be fine. As soon as he left the room, she would slip out and take the back stairs down and…

  But he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave. She could hear him moving through the room. He was still whistling softly. She didn't recognize the tune but it sounded lighthearted. At least he seemed to be in a good mood.

  And then she turned her head right into a group of hangers and they jangled. It wasn’t very loud. But it was enough, and she knew it. She froze.

  The whistling came to an abrupt halt. Terry stood very still, hand at her throat, listening intently. Her heart was pounding so hard, she wasn't sure if she'd heard him leave the room. The silence stretched interminably and she began to wonder how long she should wait before coming out. Surely he'd left by now. Hadn’t he? If he’d heard the hangers, he would have done something. He must have been whistling too loud to notice.

  Now what? She couldn't stay here forever. She had work to do, for heaven's sake. This was getting ridiculous —she'd been a fool to hide in the first place. It was time to put an end to it. She had to show a little maturity.

  Gritting her teeth, she reached for the door handle—but it was wrenched, quite suddenly, from her grasp. The doors were flung open and there stood Rick Carrington, towering over her menacingly.

  Terry gasped, but he didn't say a word. He didn't even look very surprised to find a woman in his closet. His hazel eyes sparkled as he looked her up and down, taking in every uncovered inch of her body. She might have been a new houseplant or a new suit he’d found hanging there.

  Terry took a deep breath and wished her hands weren’t shaking. She hated being found this way. Why oh why had she gone into hiding? Too dumb. And to be caught by Rick Carrington, of all people.

  “Hi,” she said, raising a hand and wiggling her fingertips at him. She was relieved to note that her voice sounded light and breezy. When facing an impossible situation, make the best of it, she thought a little hysterically. Just pretend you planned it this way all along. “Welcome home.”

  “Well, what do you know?” he murmured, a slow smile beginnin
g to soften every angle of his handsome face. His gaze skimmed across her and he obviously liked what he saw. “Oh, Johnny, you've really outdone yourself this time.”

  “Sorry?” She frowned, hit by a mix of reactions from the start. He didn’t recognize her. Thank God for that. But had he said “Johnny”? Maybe he couldn't see her very well in the dark closet. “I'm not Johnny. ...” she began.

  “Oh, I know you're not.” He nodded, his smile turning into a grin. “Where's the card?”

  She blinked at him. “The card? You mean, my card?”

  Darn it all, that would have been a good idea. She should have had cards printed up. Maybe there was still a chance to do that. She could dash down into town and get it done in no time.

  “I’ll have it for you later,” she promised hopefully.

  “Later?” He gave her a quizzical look.

  She nodded, hoping her wide eyes portrayed innocence. “Yes. I just don’t have it with me right now.”

  “I don’t buy it,” he said, eyes sparkling. “You’ve got it on you, don’t you? Johnny would insist on that.”

  The grin had turned devilish. Terry was totally at sea. He wasn’t acting like a homeowner who’d found a stranger in his closet. So what the heck was he talking about? She stared up at him uneasily.

  He was taller than she remembered and his shoulders were wide as a linebacker's, but he carried his frame with a casual assurance that bespoke a certain comfort with his surroundings. The high cheekbones and dark brows emphasized the humorous glint of his light brown eyes. He looked like a man at ease with himself, a man who didn't often let temper get the best of him.

  So that was good.

  And he was sinfully attractive. He always had been. He was wearing a blue shirt, open at the neck, and navy-blue slacks that fit with a razor-sharp crease. His hair was thick, a rich golden brown with streaks of blond—highlights most likely garnered on the polo field rather than any actual manual labor in the sun, Terry thought with sudden snarky insight. He looked like a playboy through and through, just as she'd always thought he was.

 

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