LITMIR.BIZ

       Is your perfect man just a click away? Really?

       From First Date to Wedding Date!

       Three Blind- Date Brides

      Three fabulous linked romances from

      favourite authors Jennie Adams, Fiona Harper

      and Melissa McClone

      Three Blind-

      Date Brides

      Nine-to-Five Bride

      Jennie Adams

      Blind-Date Baby

      Fiona Harper

      Dream Date with the Millionaire

      Melissa McClone

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      Nine-to-Five Bride

      Jennie Adams

       Welcome to the www.blinddatebrides.com member profile of: Kangagirl (aka Marissa Warren)

       My ideal partner …

      I’m a very ordinary girl looking for Mr Nice and Ordinary to date, with the possibility of forever and a family one day, if it’s what we both want. You should be willing to respect my rights in a partnership of honesty, openness, affection and friendship that will create the strong foundation we need to be together and stay together. You should be gainfully employed, in a job that puts food on the table and pays the bills rather than one that is the core of your existence. Therefore Mr Tall, Dark and Driven need not apply!

       My details …

      • Age: 29 years young

      • I live: in Sydney

      • Marital status: single

      • Occupation: secretary

       You’ll match if you …

      • Are between 29 and 35 years old

      • Either live in Sydney or want to live here

      • Are also single, but with a child would be okay

      • No corporate highfliers

      About the Author

      Australian author JENNIE ADAMS grew up in a rambling farmhouse surrounded by books and by people who loved reading them. She decided at a young age to be a writer, but it took many years and a lot of scenic detours before she sat down to pen her first romance novel. Jennie is married to her own real-life hero, and together they share a hers-and-theirs family of three adult children. Jennie has worked in a number of careers and voluntary positions, including as a transcription typist and a pre-school assistant. Jennie makes her home in a small inland city in New South Wales. In her leisure time she loves taking long walks, starting knitting projects that she rarely finishes, chatting with friends, going to the movies and new dining experiences. Jennie loves to hear from her readers and can be contacted via her website at www.jennieadams.net.

      For Fiona Harper and Melissa McClone.

       How much fun was this?

       For Joanne Carr and Kimberley Young,

       with thanks for making the www.blinddatebrides.com trilogy a reality.

       And to the special man in my life—I won’t tell we agreed

      on marriage on our first date if you don’t!

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘YOU want us to turn this smaller bridge into a clone of the historic Pyrmont Bridge. I’m sorry, but we can’t do that for you. The sites simply don’t compare.’ The boss of the Sydney-based Morgan Construction, Building and Architecture braced his feet on the uninspiring bridge in question, drew a deep breath and blew it out as he addressed the middle-aged man at his side.

      Rick Morgan’s rich voice held an edge of command and control that shivered over Marissa Warren’s senses. The three of them stood atop the small Sydney bridge while the Morgan’s boss explained the company’s stance on the refurbishment plans. Rick could bring about virtually any architectural feat, be it in refurbishment or new construction. What he wasn’t prepared to do was break his own code of working standards.

      A pity Marissa couldn’t push away her equally unfeasible reactions to the man. She hadn’t expected an attack of awareness of the company’s big boss. The girls in the office swooned about Rick, but Marissa was no longer interested in hot corporate types. Been there, so over that.

      It must be the sway factor of the bridge getting to her. Or the sea wind pressing hard against her back trying to disrupt her balance. Those must be responsible for the odd feelings coursing through her.

      Anything other than genuine attraction to this corporate high-flyer who owned the large company that employed her. Since she’d started at Morgan’s six months ago she hadn’t said more than ‘good morning’ to the boss in passing and, frankly, close proximity to a man with power on his mind made her want to run in the other direction, as fast as her pink glow-in-the-dark joggers could take her.

      It hadn’t exactly worked out well for her the last time, had it? Tricked, taken advantage of and publicly dumped, all in the name of career advancement. Michael Unsworth’s, to be precise.

      Marissa tugged her gold blouse into place over the chocolate skirt and noted Rick’s words on her steno pad. Not noticing him. Not the charisma, nor the stunning grey eyes fringed with thick black lashes. Certainly not the leashed sensuality that seemed an integral part of him. So totally not noticing any of that.

      Anyway, she’d just recently finished telling her Blinddatebrides.com friends Grace and Dani, aka Englishcrumpet and Sanfrandani, about her utter commitment to finding her Mr Ordinary. Though she’d only known Dani and Grace over the Internet a matter of weeks, they were wonderful women and understood and encouraged Marissa’s dating goals. She meant to find that Mr Ordinary, to prove to the world … Well, simply to prove she could control her own destiny, thanks very much.

      ‘This bridge isn’t a key thoroughfare, Cartwright. It doesn’t impact on port access for large seafaring craft.’ Rick’s strong tanned hand gestured to emphasise his words. ‘It isn’t a Heritage listed structure and its refurbishment won’t make it look like one. The work needs to be about strength, durability and safety in keeping with the established design. The company’s initial assessment explained this.’

      The bridge spanned two small juts of Sydney’s coastline. It rested within the city’s sprawling confines but was far from core harbour material. Here there were no stunning views. No Sydney Harbour Bridge. No shell-shaped Opera House rising as though directly from the water.

      Unlike Pyrmont, with its massive central swing span, this bridge was just a smallish, nondescript one tucked away on a commercial section of shore.

      ‘You’re not listening to what I want.’ Cartwright’s mouth tightened.

      ‘I’ve listened. As did the Project Manager who liaised with you initially. The advice in his report was sound.’ Overhead, a seagull offered a cry to the pale blue sky as it searched the ocean below for food.

      Rick had a strong face to match his strong tone. Wide cheekbones and a firm square jaw that, even at nine-thirty in the morning, revealed a dark beard shadow beneath the skin. A tall vital

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