Kiwi Bride: Volume 1 (Kiwi Bride Series Book 3)

by Praks, Alexia

  Kiwi Bride Vol. 1

  Alexia Praks

  Copyright © 2015 by Alexia Praks

  All Rights Reserved

  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.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without agreement and written permission of the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  The author can be reached at: www.alexiapraks.com

  Kiwi Bride

  Volume 1

  Book 1: His Hired Girlfriend

  Book 2: Highland Kiss

  Alexia Praks

  Content

  His Hired Girlfriend

  Highland Kiss

  About the Kiwi Bride Series

  More Books by Alexia

  About Alexia

  His Hired Girlfriend

  A Kiwi Bride Novel

  Alexia Praks

  Prologue

  SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA

  Shocked to the core, Jayden wondered if this was what it felt like at that vital moment when you realized you just might die. The world stopped, or perhaps time, the world, and everything in it ceased to have meaning for him.

  The richness of the Sheraton’s Ambassador Suite surrounded him as it had for the last three days, but he saw none of it. The Victorian-style decor, the luxurious furnishings, and the majestic views of Hyde Park and Sydney Harbor all faded from sight. The air, once heady with the scent of fresh roses and vanilla, now stank of betrayal. He felt a queasy sickness in the pit of his stomach as the bouquet of perfect red roses slipped from his grasp and scattered across the plush Persian carpet.

  He watched, unable to tear his gaze away.

  On the king-sized four-poster bed, two sweat-soaked naked bodies writhed in ecstasy—intertwining, touching, and heaving with exertion. As he stood transfixed, a female face swam into focus. It was Sarah Taylor, her long blond hair in wild disarray, her face flushed with passion, and her head pressed into the shoulder of her bedmate. Her eyes flashed open, and she gasped, pushing the man aside.

  “Jayden, you’re back!” she shouted, her voice a heavy mix of shock, fear, and anger.

  Jayden glanced at the man who was disentangling himself from the embrace of Sarah’s long, tanned legs. Kyle Shore, a man he treated like a brother, looked like the proverbial cat with the cream, a smug and knowing smile playing across his face.

  Hurt, betrayal, disgust—empty words for the emotions churning within him, twisting and burning, a white-hot pain inside. Violence and agony surged through his trembling muscles as a million questions filled the air like a flock of frightened birds.

  Why are you doing this? When did it start? What did I do wrong? Why Kyle? Why? Why?

  His hand clenched the door handle, his knuckles white, his face a mask of confusion and anger.

  “Happy anniversary, Sarah,” he said, his voice lost in the boom of the door slamming shut.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 1

  QUEENSTOWN, NEW ZEALAND

  The BlackBerry clattered carelessly across the glass surface of the coffee table. Jayden swore under his breath, his long, lean fingers raking through his thick hair in frustration. What the hell was he supposed to do now? This was supposed to be his holiday, and a holiday was supposed to be stress-free. No work. No family. Just peace and relaxation.

  No work? Yeah, right! As a self-confessed workaholic, it was unsurprising now that his five out of eight companies had recently been floating in the international market, hitting the multibillion-dollar level on the way. That kind of money needed looking after, nurturing, and feeding. Still, he loved the job, even more so now that he didn’t need to be in the office twenty-four-seven. He could simply flick an e-mail from wherever he was, whether in a hotel room in some lush French wine valley, a Hong Kong restaurant, or even his own bed! Whenever, wherever he was, his people could handle everything he threw at them.

  Sadly, the current focus of his stress was his family—more specifically, his grandmother. His mother, Gracie, married to his father, Tom McCartney, for thirty-five years, had insisted he bring his current girlfriend to attend his sister Kelly’s upcoming wedding in order to meet the whole family for the first time. Tom’s mother, Elizabeth, known to them as Granny Beth, had agreed to this with the reminder that it was high time his girlfriend was measured against her criteria of what made a suitable granddaughter-in-law.

  Jay stepped back from the open window and sat on the leather sofa. He took a deep, calming breath. The fresh, apple-crisp air that seemed so unique to Queenstown filled the room with a delicious coolness. The echo of that damned phone call, however, had already destroyed any peace of mind he might have expected from this trip. There seemed to be no solution. He couldn’t beg Sarah to go and pretend nothing had happened, that he hadn’t caught her with his best friend. Even the unspoken presence of her name in his mind caused a crippling ache in his chest.

  He shut his eyes, and his mind filled once again with the smoothness of her skin, the curves of her naked buttocks, and the tiny moan escaping her lips as Kyle Shore moved over her. She had been beautiful even in that moment, but that beauty was tainted now. When he tried to picture her face, it was as if a shadow lay across it. God, it seemed like such a cliché—his best friend and his girlfriend! Yet he would never have bet on such a possibility, especially as they seemed so different and there appeared to be so much hate between them. Perhaps that was it. He had only seen what they wanted him to see. Perhaps even bursting in on them in Sydney had been part of a larger plan. Either way, Jay had known in that instant the relationship was over.

  In the days that followed, he told her no future existed for them. Oh, how she begged him to forgive her, to take her back, and that it wasn’t what it looked like.

  “Not what it looked like!” he shouted at her, his face contorted with rage and regret. “You were screwing him!” And he told her, “I don’t know what is worse—your betrayal or his,” before refusing to listen to any more of her lies. He told her to get the hell out of his life, and she did go, telling him she had never loved him by way of a parting shot.

  Further days of binge drinking had not brought the expected oblivion. Then one night, nursing a beer in a nameless yet expensive bar, Peter Thompson, a good friend from New Zealand, or Godzone, as they called it in those parts, put a strong hand on his shoulder and told him, “She’s gone. Let it go, man. Plenty more fishes in the sea.”

  He laughed when Peter suggested flying halfway around the world to indulge in some interesting and somewhat suicidal sports. He agreed because he felt the need to do something—anything—and suicide by itself was not an option. Besides, even in the bleakest moments, he felt that there was much more for him in this life.

  So he flew with Peter to Queenstown, the adventure capital of New Zealand, if not the world, and threw himself off bridges, out of airplanes, and into raging rivers. Once they even strapped on skis and jumped out of a helicopter over the high, snowbound southern mountains. He hadn’t killed himself, wouldn’t have counted as suicide anyway, and the combination of exhilaration and exhaustion had driven away any thoughts of Sarah or Kyle—for a little while at least. He knew the healing process would take far longer and that he found a little peace here in this isolated place.

  Now Beth asked him to bring his gi
rlfriend to Kelly’s wedding. If he didn’t bring Sarah, they would want to know what happened, in excruciating detail naturally, and they would start matchmaking again—a thought that brought a shudder to his core.

  It was then that Jay heard somebody whistling in the corridor. A moment later, Peter Thompson walked in. When the man saw the look on Jay’s sour face, he queried, “Jay, mate, what’s up?”

  “Just got a call from Gracie and Beth.”

  Peter raised an eyebrow. “Well, from the look you’re wearing, it doesn’t sound good.”

  “Of course it’s not good, Pete.”

  “Spill it, then.”

  Jay glanced at his friend he first met at Harvard University. “They’re at it again.”

  “What, matchmaking?” Pete chuckled.

  “It’s not funny! What the hell am I going to do?”

  “I suppose they are getting worried. You are twenty-seven. Not getting any younger, bro,” Peter said, heading to the refrigerator in the kitchen. He opened the door and rooted around among the various brands, searching for a bottle of Heineken. “Want one?” he asked over his shoulder.

  “Yeah, sure,” Jay replied distractedly.

  Peter took out two and tossed one to Jay.

  Six bottles of Heineken, two packs of Blue Bird chips, and four packets of Giant Cookies later, they were still contemplating the dilemma at hand.

  “Any suggestions?” Jay asked finally.

  Peter glanced sideways at his friend. “I suggest you find yourself a new girl, bro, and take her to New York.”

  For an extended moment in the complete silence that followed, Jay’s blue eyes stared intensely into Peter’s green ones. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “Nope,” Pete replied. He stuffed some crisps in his mouth, chewed loudly, and took a solid gulp of beer.

  Jay considered this for a second. “I’m not up for it, Pete. You know I’m not.”

  Peter raised his eyebrows in question. “Sarah?”

  “It’s still too new,” Jay muttered. No, he wasn’t over Sarah yet, and dating again right now just seemed wrong and odd, like they remained linked in some way. Basically, he was just not ready.

  “Look,” Peter began, “you don’t have to do this dating thing yet. I said you just need to find a girl and take her to meet your parents. You don’t have to date her.”

  “Meaning what, exactly?”

  “Meaning you hire a girl and take her to see your parents.”

  Jay didn’t make any comment, but his expression quite clearly said, Seriously, dude, can’t you come up with a better plan than that?

  “Just hire a girl. Simple.”

  It must be a Kiwi thing, and he couldn’t stop himself from blurting out, “Who the hell is desperate enough to want to pretend to be my girlfriend?”

  “Lots,” Peter said. “Professionals.”

  Jay narrowed his eyes. “Oh, no. I’m not hiring those types of girls.”

  “Okay,” Peter said. “You need a new girlfriend, a fake one. I think I just might know where you can find one.”

  “She better not be a professional. She has to be perfect,” Jay said, and he managed to sum up the criteria for Peter.

  “Nope, she’s not a professional at all.” Peter confirmed. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he added, “In fact, she’s the total opposite.”

  * * * * *

  Jayden gazed out at the sleeping town as Peter maneuvered the SUV through the streets of Queenstown. He hadn’t realized until then just how much he had actually enjoyed this place. He loved the view, the placid waters of the lake, the food, the people, and even the crazy sports. This was a perfect holiday spot. He’d definitely be back.

  The drive was exhilarating, and Jayden allowed his eyes to feast on the rough beauty of the Central Otago area. Coarse, snow-covered mountains, pristine blue lakes, and twisted, gusting rivers came together as one in picturesque harmony. Now and again, distant winding roads led to vineyards and orchards and the remote formless dots of farmhouses. Sometimes the roads were so close to the edge of the cliffs Jay felt they were toying with the end of the world.

  Three and a half hours of driving later, they arrived in the city of Dunedin on the east coast.

  “So this is it? This is George Street, the center of the city?” Jay asked as they came through the short length of the Octagon toward the north end of the town.

  “Yep,” Pete responded, coming to a stop at the traffic lights on Hanover Street. “It’s a small town, bro. The Edinburgh of the South, they call it. We’ll have to park in the Meridian car park building. Damn busy on a Friday. Bloody students everywhere.”

  “A city of students, huh?” Jayden commented, eyeing the crowd crossing the streets in front of them.

  “Yeah,” Pete responded, taking out his cell phone.

  Jay glanced at his friend, his eyebrows rising. “Not supposed to be texting while driving.”

  Pete chuckled, and his thumbs moved faster like he was on a texting marathon.

  Jay shook his head and turned his attention back to the streets. There was a thick crowd of students, and they were exceptionally well dressed. There were young men in fashionable jeans and coats (a few in shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops), while the young women wore flimsy coats, super skinny jeans or leggings and miniskirts, and three-inch heels. They strode and mingled as they laughed and chatted with their shopping bags in hand. The flawless faces of the girls were similar to that of the supermodels back in New York, by design, no doubt. Not bad for a small city from a near-forgotten country. Certainly few in New York would be familiar with this place.

  Perhaps it was for this very reason that his eyes were suddenly drawn to a young woman striding across the street. She was completely different from the others. She wore a bright-blue coat that had seen better days, and her long, dark hair was a mess, streaming around her as she dashed across the street. She darted her way through the crowd, passing through them like a trained soldier racing through a minefield. He noticed she wasn’t wearing the high heels so liked by others. Instead, she wore a pair of white sneakers that were a complete contrast to her black jeans. Jay had to shake his head. She had no sense of fashion whatsoever.

  “Done! You didn’t see that,” Pete said.

  Jay glanced at his friend and saw Peter slotting his cell phone back into his jeans pocket. As the traffic lights changed to green and Pete’s foot pressed on the accelerator, Jay glanced at the girl in the blue coat. He noticed she had slowed down her pace. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her coat and pulled out a cell phone. As she strolled toward a door, her head was down as though she were reading a message. Jay glanced up and saw the logo in blue, big bold letters that said ANZ Bank.

  Not long after that, Jayden found himself in the Dunedin Public Hospital cafeteria. He looked about his surroundings in astonishment. The atmosphere was as grey and dull as the faded wall paint, washed-out carpet, and the smell of hospital food.

  He watched an elderly patient sitting across the table from them, trying to pick up a sandwich with wrinkled, liver-spotted hands that shook with the desperate determination of old age.

  “What are we doing here?” Jay asked.

  “Looking for the perfect girlfriend for you,” Peter said enthusiastically.

  “Very funny,” Jay snapped, picked up his ham sandwich, and taking a bite.

  They were looking in the wrong place. No proper socialite chick, even one desperate enough to be hired for whatever reason, would be found in this type of place.

  At that moment, a large group of young doctors came into the cafeteria with trays of food and drinks in their hands. Some were wearing scrubs while the younger ones, the medical students, wore semi-formal clothing with stethoscopes hanging around their necks. Jay noted a few of the female doctors looked quite appealing.

  “Hey, I can tell you like the looks of this,” Peter said as they watched the doctors taking their seats not far from them.

  “Is she a doctor?” Jay as
ked.

  Peter shook his head.

  “A nurse?” Jay watched as a pack of young and old nurses wearing dark-blue scrubs filed into the cafeteria.

  Again Peter shook his head.

  “What does she do, then? You said you know her,” Jay said, watching a pretty female heading their way.

  She looked very attractive, long legs in heels, medium brown hair that flowed down her back, full lips, and bedroom eyes. Perfect!

  Peter nodded. “Of course I know her. She’s exactly what the criteria are not.”

  “What? But she’s perfect.” Jay watched the woman gliding toward him. Then she smiled at him. My God, she was beautiful. She could be a model if she wanted to; only she was a doctor, which was even better. She had brains and possibly a good family background. What about manners? He had no doubt she had excellent manners. He couldn't imagine her yelling and screaming insanely at her sick, elderly patients.

  Yes, she fit the criteria, all right.

  “Really, that’s good. I’m glad you agree,” Peter said, eyeing the woman coming toward them. He waved as she approached the seat opposite them.

  “Hey, you,” she said, greeting him. “I thought you were on holiday. What are you doing back here?”

  Jay liked the sound of her voice. It was soft and sweet.

  “Mary, this is Jayden, a friend of mine.” Peter introduced her, nodding toward Jay, who rose and offered his hand.

  “Hi,” Mary said. “I’m Pete’s cousin. I’m a medical student.”

  Jay liked her hand, too. It was soft. He could sense both gentleness and strength in it.

  “So how is your holiday going?” she asked. “You’re not back to work yet, right?”

  Peter shook his head. “Not for another week.”

  She nodded prettily and turned to Jayden with a sparkle in her eyes. “So where are you from?”