Read The Spanish Billionaire's Hired Bride for Free Online Page B

any cost, he had the morals of an alley cat and would go to any lengths to get his own way. She shouldn’t let sexual attraction trick her into thinking there was any depth to the man at all.
    It was just before lunchtime when they arrived, which was precisely when Ricardo had insisted they would arrive. His network of flunkies had delivered them stylishly and faultlessly to their destination without the slightest hitch or delay, which was a minor miracle at that time of year. Ricardo even seemed to have control over the holiday traffic that usually clogged up the arterial roads to Brackley Bench. He’d dressed for the occasion too. Gone was the sharp suit, and he was now dressed in head to toe designer country casual. Even in stonewash jeans, a grey roll neck sweater and Ugg Rockvilles he was stunning to look at.
    The car clattered over a cattle grid at the entrance to Primrose Farm, and a large bird left a calling card on the Aston’s immaculate windscreen.
    “Welcome to the New Forest.” Helen suppressed a giggle as the car came to a stop in the yard. “The wildlife must have seen you coming.”
    “This place. It smells like…blue cheese,” Ricardo said, his brow furrowing with distaste.
    “Doesn’t it though?” Helen said as she scrambled out of the car. “We call it silage here. But only the cows eat it.”
    Helen’s parents were waiting as they arrived. Broad smiles greeted them on the red brick porch full of old rain boots and kittens. In the herb garden outside, a cockerel puffed out his chest as his hens pecked and fussed around him. Being hugged warmly by both excited parents made her forget her deception for a while, their chatter and animation warmed her inside, but she still avoided eye contact with Ricardo when she introduced him.
    “What’s for lunch, Mum?” Helen breezed into the kitchen. She had a pretty good idea from the smell that was coming from the old, blackened range. It had been the heart of the home for generations, providing heat, food , and a gathering place away from the hardships of outdoor life. She recognized the smell of homemade steak pie, and judging by the steamed-up windows they’d be having black cabbage and boiled potatoes too. She couldn’t wait to see how Ricardo would react to his future mother-in-law’s rustic cuisine.
    To Helen’s surprise and intense annoyance, Ricardo ingratiated himself with her parents effortlessly. He was a master of seduction on all fronts, smooth, entertaining and completely disarming. She had hoped to glean some satisfaction from his being completely out of place. In fact, she’d been particularly looking forward to watching him swallow every mouthful of her mum’s “signature” pastry. Cooking was not one of Mrs. Marshall’s strengths—unusual for a farmer’s wife, but she’d not killed anyone yet.
    “Just like the finest c avolo nero ,” Ricardo enthused, piling dark, bitter kale onto his plate. “And organic, even better!”
    Her mother glowed. Her father nodded approvingly and opened a big bottle of cider, which was an honor, indeed. Ricardo looked as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth as he munched his way into her parents’ affections. He was infuriating. And he had the most tempting mouth.
    Helen was close to throwing up when her mother declined Ricardo’s second offer to wash up. “No, no!” she trilled. “Why don’t you show Ricardo around, Helen? I hear there’s an egret nesting down on the marsh somewhere. You don’t see many of those.”
    “Okay, that sounds like a very good idea.” She’d had quite enough of the happy extended family scenario. It was time to play dirty. She didn’t much care if Ricardo noticed the glint in her eye as she picked up a big smelly pair of muddy boots. He’d bloody asked for it, being so disgustingly well mannered and charming around her mum. She wanted to see him squirm. “These are for you. Darling .”
    “That went well,” Ricardo said as they trudged uphill