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Long-stemmed candlesticks flanked

an arrangement of fresh flowers in the

center. Never in Serena’s wildest dreams

had she imagined a man would pamper

her so. Jake must be really serious about

her. The ramifications of that thought

made her heart skip a little faster.

The most she’d ever got from a boyfriend before was a packet of peanuts thrown across the pub table after he’d been to the bar. In her experience, musicians who knew she had a rich father didn’t bother frittering their hard-earned cash on her. Quite the opposite. But it wasn’t the quality of Jake’s chinaware that impressed her. It had taken time and careful thought to create all this—just for her. It was utterly seductive.

Jake was shaping up to be Mr. Right.

FIONA HARPER

As a child, Fiona Harper was constantly teased for either having her nose in a book or living in a dream world. Things haven’t changed much since then, but at least in writing she’s found a use for her runaway imagination. After studying dance at university, Fiona worked as a dancer, teacher and choreographer, before trading in that career for video editing and production. When she became a mother she cut back on her working hours to spend time with her children, and when her littlest one started preschool she found a few spare moments to rediscover an old but not forgotten love—writing.

Fiona lives in London, but her other favorite places to be are the Highlands of Scotland and the Kent countryside on a summer’s afternoon. She loves cooking, good food and anything cinnamon flavored.

Of course, she still can’t keep away from a good book, or a good movie—especially romances—but only if she’s stocked up with tissues, because she knows she will need them by the end, be it happy or sad. Her favorite things in the world are her wonderful husband, who has learned to decipher her incoherent ramblings, and her two daughters.

Blind-Date Marriage is Fiona’s debut novel.

Blind-Date Marriage

Fiona Harper

For the unknown man I soaked while driving through a puddle

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

JAKE knew only two things about the woman he was going to meet: her name was Serena and her father had money.

Serena.

Sounded kind of horsey. She probably wore jodhpurs. Mel had refused to comment on whether she was pretty or not, so she probably looked like a horse as well. He could see it so clearly: the gymkhana trophies, the chintzy bedroom. Serena wore her mousy hair in a bun and had too many teeth.

He stepped off the kerb of the busy London street and zigzagged through the gaps in the traffic. Headlights lit up his knees as he squeezed between the bumpers. A horn blared.

That was why he liked to walk. It gave him a sense of freedom in the midst of the cloying traffic. He wasn’t about to take orders from anyone, especially not a pole with coloured lights on top.