His Hired Girlfriend

His
Hired
Girlfriend

by

A.C
Praks

SMASHWORDS EDITION

*****

PUBLISHED BY:

A.C Praks on Smashwords

Copyright © 2012 by A.C
Praks.

All rights reserved.

*****

Smashwords Edition License
Notes

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

*****

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.

*****

Also by
A.C. Praks
, published at Smashword:

Desire (A Nine Kingdoms Book Series)

A
Secret Admirer (A Romance Short Story)

*****

PROLOGUE

SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA

SHOCKED TO
THE CORE –
Jayden wondered if this was
what it would feel like in that vital moment when you realised that
you just might die. His body was numb, brain frozen, and his heart
pounding like a hijacked steam train about to plunge over the
cliff’s edge. The world stopped – or perhaps time, the world and
everything in it, had 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 his eyes saw none of it. The Victorian style décor, the
luxurious furnishings, the majestic views of Hyde Park and Sydney
Harbour, 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 settle into 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, his eyes seeing everything, his brain denying
everything. On the king-sized four-poster bed, a Sheraton Sweet
Sleeper, two sweat-soaked naked bodies writhed in ecstasy,
intertwining, touching, breath heaving with exertion. As he stood
transfixed a female face swam into focus. It was Sarah Taylor, her
long blonde hair in wild disarray, her face flushed with passion as
her head pressed into the shoulder of her bed mate. Her eyes
flashed open and she gasped, pushing the man aside, “Jayden, You’re
back!” her voice a heavy mix of shock, fear and anger.

Jayden glanced at the man who
was disentangling himself from the silky embrace of Sarah’s long
tanned legs. Kyle Shore, a man he had 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 had it started? What
had I done wrong? Why Kyle?
Why?
Why?

His hand clenched the door
handle, 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
McCartney swore under his breath, his long, lean fingers raking
through his thick, blonde hair in frustration. What the hell he was
supposed to do now, he thought, this was supposed to be his
holiday, and a holiday is supposed to be stress-free – no work, no
family, just peace and relaxation.

No work, right! As a
self-confessed workaholic it was unsurprising now that his five out
of his eight companies had recently been floating on the
international market, hitting the multibillion dollar level on the
way. That kind of money needed looking after, nurturing, feeding.
Still, he loved the job, even more so now that he didn’t need to be
in the office twenty-four-seven and could instead simply flick an
email 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, although he would never let the reins become too
loose.

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 that he bring his girlfriend,
whom he had been steady dating for the last two years, 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. As he gazed out at the snow-covered mountains
standing stately around the clear, cold azure waters of Lake
Wakatipu, Jayden drew up a mental checklist of those criteria. What
were they again?

1. Well off:
Beth’s meaning – her family
must
possess a substantial business and property
portfolio.

2. Good family background:
Beth’s meaning – her family must be either of royal blood or of
blue blood, you know, the old money type.

3. Pretty: Beth’s meaning –
could pace the catwalk with confidence.

4. Excellent manners: Beth’s
meaning – a socialite – polite with a hint of bitchiness.

If at all possible, Granny Beth
had added, it should be in that particular order.

Jay stepped back from the open
window and sat down on the soft white 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, but the echo
of that damned phone call was already destroying any peace of mind
he might have expected from this trip. There seemed to be no
solution. He couldn’t beg Sarah to go, pretending that 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.

Should he have seen it coming?
Were the clues just lying all around them, waiting for him to pick
them up, in the earlier stage of their loving relationship?

Loving!
A stupid word ringing hollow
in his ears – he couldn’t shut out that scene, that night in Sydney
three weeks ago. The pain was still sharp, piercing him in the
lonely hours. Women said that men never got hurt this way, they
were wrong. Oh sure, maybe some didn’t, but they were probably
players, the next hot chick already in their line of sight, the
last one forgotten all too easily. Jayden knew he wasn’t like that,
could never be like that: he knew he had depth in his heart. The
cheating was just the rack on which he would suffer his pain, the
circumstances,
his best friend, and her
look of orgasmic pleasure,
were simply the
turning of the screws.

He thought
back. Sarah had complained about their trip the whole time – it was
supposed to be
their
holiday, so why did he have to meet up with his friend? What
she had meant by
his
friend was that it was a friend only Jay knew, not her, a
friend unfamiliar with the socialites and millionaires of New York,
a friend who, basically, didn’t belong in their world, or rather
her
world.

‘It was unexpected’, he had
told her, ‘and besides which, Peter and I haven’t seen each other
since our days at Harvard University. It’s been years’.

He shut his
eyes, his mind filled once again with the smoothness of her skin,
the curves of her naked buttocks, 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. And it had seemed
like such a cliché:
his best friend and
his girlfriend!
Yet he would never have
bet on such a possibility, especially as they had seemed so
different, that there appeared to be so much hate between them.
Perhaps that was it; he had only seen what they had
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 that the
relationship was over.

In the days that followed he
had told her that no future existed for them. Oh, how she had
begged him to forgive her, to take her back, that it was not what
it looked like. ‘Not what it looked like!’ he had shouted at her
then, his face contorted with rage and regret. ‘You were screwing
him!’ and he had told her, ‘I don’t know what is worse, your
betrayal or his’, before refusing to listen to anymore of her lies.
He told here to get the hell out of his life and she had gone,
telling him that 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, had
put a strong hand on his shoulder and told him, ‘She’s gone. Let it
go, man. Plenty more fish in the sea’, and he had laughed when
Peter suggested flying half way around the world to indulge in some
‘interesting’ and somewhat suicidal sports. He had agreed,
unenthusiastically at the time, because he had felt the need to do
something, anything, and suicide by itself was not an option.
Besides which, even in the blackest moments, he felt that there was
much more for him in this life. And so he had flown with Peter to
Queenstown, the adventure capital of New Zealand if not the world,
and had thrown himself off bridges, out of airplanes, into raging
rivers. Once they had 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 had found a
little peace here in this isolated place, and now here were Gracie
and Beth asking him to bring his girlfriend to Kelly’s wedding. If
he didn’t bring Sarah they would want to know what had happened, in
excruciating detail naturally, and they would start matchmaking
again, a thought that brought a shudder to his core.

Jay rested his head back and
let his mind wander. He could just see it all now. Gracie and Beth
would bring in a hundred or so eligible bachelorettes for dinner,
tea parties, and balls. He would be swamped with faceless,
beautiful women. Some guys would think they were in heaven. They’d
actually enjoy the attention, being surrounded with beautiful women
like a contestant in reality T.V show such as ‘The Bachelor’.
Despite his high profile company Jay knew he was different.

He sprang
from the sofa, pacing back and forward, agitated. Good grief! What
he needed was a plan. ‘
Think, Jay,
think!’
he chanted to himself.

He paused, somebody was
whistling in the corridor. Had Peter returned from his morning jog?
He rushed across the living room and saw the man he needed most in
this time of crisis.

He grabbed Peter by the collar
and hauled him in.

“Whoa! Jay, mate, what’s up?”
Peter said, chuckling and smoothing down his unruly red hair.

“I just got a call from Gracie
and Beth,” Jay muttered.

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.”