Cinderella and the tycoo.., p.1
Cinderella and the Tycoon Next Door, page 1
One Year to Wed
Four sisters, four seasons, four weddings!
When their father dies unexpectedly, the Waverly sisters are set to inherit the beloved outback family estate. The only problem? An arcane stipulation in the will that requires all four of them to be married within a year or they’ll lose the farm for good! But with such little time, how on earth will they each find a husband? Well...
Matilda is secretly already married—to a prince no less! Now she just needs to track him down...
in Secretly Married to a Prince
by Ally Blake
Eve spends a night of distraction with a tattooed stranger, and the consequences are binding!
in Reluctant Bride’s Baby Bombshell
by Rachael Stewart
Ana turns to her best friend for help. But their marriage of convenience is quickly complicated by inconvenient feelings...
in Cinderella and the Tycoon Next Door
by Kandy Shepherd
And Rose makes a deal with the devil: the strip of land his family—and the Waverlys’ longtime rivals—has been after for years in exchange for a temporary marriage!
in Claiming His Billion-Dollar Bride
by Michelle Douglas
All available now!
Dear Reader,
This book was such fun to write alongside my wonderful fellow authors in the One Year to Wed series. Four linked books, four authors, four sisters and—of course!—four gorgeous heroes.
At an Australian romance writers’ conference, Michelle Douglas, Ally Blake and I decided we’d like to write a series. We invited UK author Rachael Stewart to join us. Fortunately, our editors loved our story ideas!
We were in constant touch, brainstorming ideas for our sisters: Matilda, Evelyn, Ana and Rose. We got so deeply into their stories, we sometimes called our fellow author by her heroine’s name!
My sister, Ana, is the secret sister. A “love child,” she lived behind a wall of secrets and lies. That all changes when her billionaire father dies and includes Ana in his will, alongside the three sisters who never knew she existed.
It’s a tumultuous time for Ana as she steps into the shoes of being an heiress—and a sister. But helping her adjust is Connor O’Brien, the boy next door, her best friend since childhood. When Ana needs help to claim her inheritance, Connor steps up. Can they stay “just friends”? I hope you enjoy their story!
Warm regards,
Kandy
Cinderella and the Tycoon Next Door
Kandy Shepherd
Kandy Shepherd swapped a career as a magazine editor for a life writing romance. She lives on a small farm in the Blue Mountains near Sydney, Australia, with her husband, daughter and lots of pets. She believes in love at first sight and real-life romance—they worked for her! Kandy loves to hear from her readers. Visit her at kandyshepherd.com.
Books by Kandy Shepherd
Harlequin Romance
The Christmas Pact
Mistletoe Magic in Tahiti
Christmas at the Harrington Park Hotel
Their Royal Baby Gift
How to Make a Wedding
From Bridal Designer to Bride
Best Man and the Runaway Bride
Second Chance with the Single Dad
Falling for the Secret Princess
One Night with Her Millionaire Boss
Second Chance with His Cinderella
Pregnancy Shock for the Greek Billionaire
Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.
To my fellow One Year to Wed authors,
Michelle Douglas, Ally Blake and Rachael Stewart,
for helping to make writing this book such fun!
I loved every minute of our collaboration.
Praise for Kandy Shepherd
“Falling for the Secret Princess is a sweet and swoon-worthy romance. Author Kandy Shepherd wrote this beautiful romance which would take you far, far away.... As a romance reader this is the ultimate escape. The storyline had plenty of twists and turns and would keep you engrossed till the end. Highly recommended for all readers of romance.”
—Goodreads
Contents
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EPILOGUE
EXCERPT FROM CLAIMING HIS BILLION-DOLLAR BRIDE BY MICHELLE DOUGLAS
PROLOGUE
Garrison Downs,
June, first day of winter
ANASTASIA HORVATH HUNCHED her shoulders and pushed herself back as deeply as she could into the padded leather arm chair, trying to make herself invisible. She felt uncomfortably conspicuous in the grand office that had been her late father’s centre of operations at his vast family property, Garrison Downs. The intensely masculine room was furnished with fine furniture and antiques as befitted his status. Holt Waverly, billionaire grazier, public figure, custodian of this one-and-a-half million-hectare cattle station—one of the largest in South Australia—and dead aged sixty-four, tragically felled by a falling tree branch.
It was unbearable that she would never again see her vibrant, larger-than-life father. But she wasn’t allowed to show her grief. Her black dress was the only indication of her loss. She bit down on her lip to stop it from trembling and gripped her hands tightly together. More than twenty people had congregated in the office. She only knew one, the elderly lawyer set to read her father’s will. But she recognised two others from photographs and media reports. Sitting in her line of vision were two of the three older half-sisters Ana had never met—not once in her twenty-five years.
Ana found it difficult not to stare at Matilda and Rose Waverly—the youngest and oldest of Holt’s daughters with his late wife Rosamund. The middle sister, Evelyn, was nowhere to be seen. Matilda and Rose looked like the wealthy, socially well-connected people they were—utterly confident of their rightful place here. Just, in fact, like the girls who had bullied her at the private girls’ high school her father had insisted she attend. As far as she knew, they had absolutely no idea she, their youngest sister, existed.
Rose, the oldest sister, tall and slender, brown hair in a ponytail, sat upright in her chair. She looked like she’d just slid off the back of a horse. Rose kept glancing out of the big bay window to the classic Outback scene of red dirt and eucalypt trees as if she’d much rather be outside. Matilda, also tall but curvier, with a mane of blonde hair, sat with her socked feet curled under her on a velvet chair, hugging an embroidered cushion to her chest.
The sisters looked nothing like Ana, with her straight dark hair and slight figure.
Except for their eyes.
Even from across the room she could see her half-sisters had the same piercing blue eyes she had. The same eyes as Holt Waverly—the father she’d only ever seen a few times a year, the father who had never publicly acknowledged her and never given her his name. She was his secret love child.
Her mother had always insisted on calling her a ‘love child’, when there were other less kind words aimed at children who were born out of marriage to a man’s mistress. Her father had met her mother Lili when he’d sincerely believed his marriage was over. Her mother had loved him and had believed she and Holt would be married after the planned divorce. But he’d reconciled with his wife. Neither Holt nor Lili had known Lili was pregnant with Ana when he’d left her. He’d taken responsibility for Ana, but he’d had nothing to do with Lili, except on issues concerning his fourth, secret daughter.
Ana had never been able to rid herself of a sense of shame, fed by the secrecy that had defined her life—no one must ever know who her father was. She hadn’t been allowed to call him ‘Dad’ when they were together on his infrequent visits to Melbourne, just in case she was overheard. Instead she’d called him apa, the Hungarian term for dad, as suggested by her mother and her Hungarian grandparents.
And she missed him terribly. For all the distance and constraints, she had adored her father, a larger-than-life figure. Yet even after his death a month ago she had not been able to acknowledge her link to him, her shock and pain at his loss. Such was his importance, he’d been given a state funeral. She and her mother had, of course, not been invited. They’d only seen glimpses of the ceremony on the news.
No one knew about their existence, except for this elderly lawyer who now sat behind Holt’s outsized desk. It was he, George Harrington, who had organised the purchase of the house where they’d lived in the inner-city Melbourne suburb of St Kilda, paid Ana’s school fees and administered the annual allowance paid to her mother for the secret daughter’s upkeep. When Ana had turned twenty-one, she’d been surprised to be told her father had organised an allowance to be paid directly to her to replace the allowance to her mother.
Now Ana was on display in this personal study of the father who’d had such a public life but had kept her existence a secret. She cast her eyes downward to the antique Persian rug. She could almost feel the barbed thoughts aimed at her from all corners of th
Who are you? What are you doing here? You don’t belong.
A wet doggy nose nudged her arm—a beautiful old Border Collie, its muzzle grey with age. Rather than the usual black-and-white, it was the silvery grey-and-white known as lilac. This must be River, her father’s beloved dog. Apa had told her about River, a working dog who had retired to become a pet with house privileges. Now he was nuzzling her affectionately. Did River recognise her as family, if only on the outer circle? Did he sense the tight rein she was holding on her emotions and want to comfort her?
She patted him, fondling his soft ears, loving the contact. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered to the sweet animal. She had always wanted a dog, but her mother had said a firm no. Animals were too much work and cost too much.
Her mother had kept to a strict budget. ‘Your father looks after you now, but we can’t count on that. If anything happened to him, those funds could be cut right off. His family wouldn’t take kindly to you. Who knows what could happen when Holt dies?’
Ana was about to find out.
George Harrington had already told her that her allowance would continue. But she was required to be at the reading of her father’s will at Garrison Downs today.
Her mother had refused to accompany her. ‘This is something you have to do on your own, my darling,’ she had said.
Ana wished she had her best friend Connor O’Neill with her. She wouldn’t feel so vulnerable if she had him there. But Connor now lived in a different state. And they’d argued. As kids they’d squabbled, often about something inconsequential, but had always made up. This time was different. He had a new girlfriend, who Ana didn’t think was worthy of him, and she’d told him so. Connor hadn’t agreed. He’d told her she’d gone too far and to stay out of his love life.
Ana had found that hurtful. She only wanted the best for him—and clearly that girl wasn’t it. As a consequence, they hadn’t spoken for weeks. He hadn’t replied to her texts telling him about her summons to Garrison Downs. She missed him.
Maybe she’d lost him.
That was an unbearable thought.
Suddenly the dog’s ears pricked up and he turned his head towards Matilda. Ana looked towards Matilda too and, for a startling moment, their eyes met. Ana couldn’t help a shiver of terror. But to her intense relief Matilda smiled, a warm smile edged with uncertainty but no recognition. Ana smiled a tentative smile in return.
Her sister!
River padded over to Matilda and jumped up onto the sofa next to her. Her sister—only a year older than she was—couldn’t be too bad if a dog could look at her with such devotion.
In his wavering old man’s voice, the lawyer announced that Evelyn Waverly would be joining the meeting via video call. As he spoke, a large painting on the wall slid into the ceiling to reveal a screen. Ana had to twist herself around to see it from where she was sitting. Then her third half-sister was there. Evelyn was so different from her sisters. City-smart in a tailored suit. Blonde hair pulled back in a tight bun. But she had the same blue eyes as the others—as Ana did herself. Evelyn’s expression was contained, even a little stern, and didn’t give anything away.
The lawyer started to talk about properties, investments and the robust state of the Waverly family’s financial standing. Ana didn’t have a clue about any of the business matters, but it appeared her father had been even wealthier than she had thought. The family cattle station, Garrison Downs, had generated much of that wealth.
Mr Harrington cleared his throat, then paused for what seemed like an abnormally long time. The room hushed in anticipation of what they were all there for—the contents of the will.
Finally, he read from the document. ‘To my daughters, I leave all my worldly possessions, including, but not limited to, Garrison Downs.’
Ana realised she’d been holding her breath and she let it out on sigh of disappointment. Nothing for her, as her mother had anticipated. But Ana had hoped against hope for some recognition in her father’s will. She had only ever been given the crumbs of his affection. It wasn’t his money she’d wanted, it was his love, and by not leaving her anything in his will he’d let her know even the crumbs had been swept away. She tried not to let the hurt show on her face.
She had to get out of here.
Mr Harrington continued. ‘Let it be known that it is my wish that my eldest daughter, Rose Lavigne Waverly, take full control of the management of Garrison Downs, if that is her wish. If not, I bow to her choice.’
Ana looked at Rose, saw her flinch. Surely she wasn’t surprised? Apa had spoken proudly of how Rose had helped him run the property for the last ten years. Had he been unaware of how every word praising his ‘real’ daughters had hurt like a stab to her heart? She’d seen so little of him. She doubted his secret, second-best daughter rated as anything much—certainly not worthy of being acknowledged as a Waverly.
Mr Harrington hadn’t finished. ‘Ah. At this point,’ he said, peering over the top of his glasses, ‘could we please clear the room of everyone bar family?’
Ana got up to leave the room, relieved. She wasn’t sure she could keep it together. Wasn’t sure she wouldn’t cry out that it wasn’t fair, that her life hadn’t been fair, that she’d deserved more than a distant, part-time father. But Mr Harrington indicated she should stay. Perhaps there would be some small bequest for her after all. She sank back into the chair.
Along with her half-sisters, she waited in silence while the other people filed out of the room. She ignored the curious glances sent her way by her sisters and those departing. Perhaps they assumed she was the lawyer’s assistant.
‘Now,’ Mr Harrington said. ‘There is a condition placed over the bequest. One that has been attached to the property since its transfer to your family years ago.’
Did this have anything to do with her? Ana wondered. Was that why she’d been asked to stay?
Mr Harrington took off his glasses. ‘As I’m sure you know, the history of Garrison Downs is complicated, what with your great-great-grandmother having won the land from the Garrison family in a poker game in 1904.’
Really? Ana wondered how such a thing could actually have happened. Garrison Downs was immense—why would someone have risked it in a poker game? How bizarre.
‘Any time the land has been passed down, certain conditions had to be met.’ He paused before reading directly from the will. ‘Any male Waverly heir, currently living, naturally inherits the estate.’
‘Naturally,’ Rose murmured.
‘But,’ said Mr Harrington, lifting a finger, ‘if the situation arose where there is no direct male heir, any and all female daughters of marrying age must be wed within a year of the reading of the will in order to inherit the property as a whole.’
Ana stifled a gasp. Although it wasn’t anything to do with her, she grasped the magnitude of it—and the injustice. It was obviously the first her half-sisters had heard of it.
‘What?’ said Matilda.
There was an exclamation from on-screen Evelyn too.
‘I don’t understand,’ Rose said, shaking her head.
Neither did Ana. As an accountant, she had worked with the beneficiaries of some odd wills but nothing as archaic as this.
‘The land,’ said Matilda slowly, ‘is entailed to sons. If there is no son, the Waverly women can inherit, but only if all of us are married.’
‘That can’t possibly be legal,’ Rose said, her voice hoarse with disbelief. ‘Not in this day and age.’
‘Too right, it can’t be,’ Evelyn said from the screen. Ana hadn’t heard as much about Evelyn from her father as she had about Matilda and Rose, but she knew she was a high-powered PR executive.
‘It is...arcane,’ agreed Mr Harrington. ‘But it has been a part of the lore of this land for several generations. So far as I see it, and so far as your father must have wanted, it stands.’
‘How has this never come up before?’ asked Rose.
‘Sons. Waverlys have always been most excellent at having at least one strapping, farm-loving son,’ said Matilda dryly. ‘Until us.’
