A Wedded Arrangement, a fun, steamy marriage-of-convenience romance from New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Noelle Adams, is available now!

A Wedded Arrangement

Convenient Marriages, #3

by Noelle Adams

Publishing date: October 23rd 2019

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Tropes: Enemies-to-lovers, marriage of convenience

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With three months remaining of her marriage of convenience, Savannah is ready to say goodbye to her spoiled rich boy of a husband. He's annoying and argumentative and used to always getting his way. Sure, he's hot. And maybe occasionally a little bit sweet. But she doesn't want to stay married to him.

Not at all.

He needed a wife for a year so he could inherit his grandmother's fortune, and she needed to pay off her family's debts. That's all their marriage has ever been about.

So she really needs to stop falling into bed with him.

Read an excerpt

“Mornin’,” Lance said from behind her. He came striding into the kitchen, looking obnoxiously handsome in a pair of tailored charcoal-gray trousers and a black crewneck sweater. He usually wore suits to work, but he must not have any appointments with clients that morning. They were leaving for the wedding midafternoon, and he probably didn’t want to have to change out of a suit. “Something wrong with the juice?”

“Yes, there’s something wrong with it. You put it back in the refrigerator when it was empty.”

He was filling a travel mug with coffee, but he glanced over his shoulder to scan the bottle she still held. “It’s not empty.”

“It might as well be.”

“Maria is coming today. She’ll restock the refrigerator.”

“But I was going to have a glass right now. Why would you put an empty container back in the refrigerator?”

“It’s not empty.” His eyebrows were lifted just slightly in a typical Lance look. Superior and slightly annoyed. “There’s half a glass left in there. Why would I have wasted it?”

“This is one sip. Not half a glass.”

He let out an exasperated exhale and reached up to grab a small juice glass off a shelf. Then he stepped over so he was right in front of her, took the juice out of her hand, and poured the remainder into the glass.

In the morning, right after he showered, was the only time of day when his hair was tamed into some sort of order. He always combed it back neatly while it was damp, like maybe he actually thought it would stay where he put it. He looked sleeker—harder, just slightly dangerous—without the thick auburn curls in wild disorder around his face. He also smelled way too good. Clean and expensive and somehow better than men were supposed to smell. She breathed him in but didn’t let it distract her from her justifiable indignation.

He handed her the glass with a pointed expression. It wasn’t half, but it was close.

She swallowed the juice down in one gulp. It was a much bigger swallow than she normally would have taken, but she had an argument to win just now. “One sip.”

He met her eyes directly, and they held the gaze as an unspoken challenge. Then—damn him—the corner of his mouth twitched up, and he let out a huff so soft she barely heard it.

But she knew what it was.

Scowling, she set the juice glass in the sink and grabbed her coffee and granola bar. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s kind of funny. Are we secretly a couple from a sitcom?”

She was struggling not to laugh in response to the irrepressible amusement in his eyes, but that just made her more annoyed. Damn the man. Making her laugh just when she was about to win an argument. “I know you’re used to thinking only of yourself, but it would be nice if you’d acknowledge that I live here too and that putting mostly empty containers back into the refrigerator is rude and insensitive.”

“I must be growing on you. It wasn’t so long ago that you assumed I could never be anything except rude and insensitive.” He took his coffee and walked with her to the entryway of the condo. He was smiling for real now. Looking way to cocky. Like he’d somehow come out of this encounter the winner.

He hadn’t.

She slid on the pair of black ankle boots she’d been wearing the day before and had left by the door. They pulled together her slim-cut black pants and gray sweater. She wanted to look decent since they’d be driving up to Virginia later for the wedding.

Lance had been putting his shoes on too, but now he was scanning her out of the corner of his eye.

“What?” she demanded.

“We match today.” His mouth quirked up again.

She looked down at herself. And then over at him. He was right. The colors were reversed, but they were both wearing the same shades of gray and black.

Her belly fluttered with a flurry of butterflies. For no reason at all.

She reached down for her leather bag on the floor and tried to think of something clever to say.

“It can only work to our benefit,” Lance continued. “People will really believe we’re growing into an old married couple.”

“Oh, shut up and stop smirking. And don’t think you’re forgiven about the orange juice.”

As retorts went, that wasn’t one of her best, but it was all she could manage at the moment.