Bride Of Convenience [h.s. fanfic a.u]

1.

Several heads turned as the three men made their way into the main bar of the clubhouse. Other men as well as women glanced their way, their gazes carrying a mixture of envy and admiration.

It wasn't just because these men were wealthy. The attention they instantly drew, especially from women, was more basic than that. Cavewomen had invariably been attracted to cavemen who could best protect and provide for them; physically blessed alpha males whose prepotent genes ensured strong offspring.

A modern woman might imagine she chose her mates differently; that she was attracted to other attributes such as kindness and a good sense of humor. Recent research, however, showed that was false thinking. Apparently, the most attractive quality a man could possess was tallness.

The male trio striding through the bar-room were all tall. If that wasn't enough to give them an advantage over most members of their sex, they were also handsome and dark haired and, yes, very wealthy indeed.

The man who headed straight for the bar and who was obviously going to buy the first round of drinks was Harry Styles, only son and heir to the Styles Media fortune. Twenty-five year old, Harry was England's most eligible bachelor, a well-known man-about-town with a plethora of past girlfriends, none of whom-amazingly-had a bad word to say about him. A natural charmer, he devoted his life to the pursuit of pleasure, to remaining single and doing only as much work as strictly necessary.

His two Polo buddies were not cut from the same ilk. Both bordered on being workaholics, were married and had been moulded by past experiences into much tougher men.

Liam Payne owned Payne Real Estate, England's most prestigious and successful property company.

Zayn Malik owned Images, England's most dynamic advertising and management agency.

The three men had been best friends since their school days. They knew each other very well, including their strengths and weaknesses. Their affection for each other was genuine and unconditional.

Their Thursday-morning Polo game, however was a no-holds-barred affair. They always played for money, and they always played to win.

"What on earth's wrong with Harry today?" Zayn said as he and Liam settled at a table on the verandah overlooking the eighteenth green. "Never seen him play such pathetic Polo."

"I have. When you were away, a few weeks ago, just before your wedding."

"That's strange"

"Thanks," Liam said drily.

"You know what I mean, You're pretty good, but Harry's better."

"He should be. He practically lives on the Polo field."

"True." Zayn had used to play quite a bit himself, but not so much since his marriage late last year. Or over the recent Christmas break, when his social calendar had been very full.

"Come to think of it, Harry wasn't up to scratch last week, either. Only just managed to beat us. What do you think's responsible for his loss of form?"

"Not sure about lately," Liam said. "But back in November he was having some kind of woman trouble."

Zayn was truly taken aback. Harry never had woman trouble. They threw themselves at his feet with regular monotony. He could have his pick.

"What kind of woman trouble?" Zayn asked.

"I gather he fancied some piece who wouldn't come across."

"Now that'd be a first. Do you know who she was?"

"He didn't say. And I didn't ask."

"Mmm." Zayn frowned as he watched Harry weave his way towards the verandah with three bears cupped in his hands.

What could possibly be the reason for Harry's uncharacteristic failure to bed a female of his choice? His womanizing reputation, perhaps?

Nah. His being a bad boy with the opposite sex never seemed to put the girls off him. If anything, his being known as a rake only added to his appeal.

"On second thoughts, I've probably got it all wrong." Liam said. "He probably just had a late night last night, romancing his latest conquest. Maybe even the mystery girl herself. You and I both know that there isn't a girl alive who can resist those blue eyes once he turns on the charm. Except my Danielle and your Perrie, of course."

"Come now, he's not that irresistible." But even as he said the words, Zayn conceded that their friend was a veritable babe magnet.

"Hope you remembered to make mine a light," Liam said when Harry placed the three glasses of beer on the table. "I have to work this afternoon."

"Me too," Zayn said.

Harry pulled a face as he sat down. "That makes three of us."

"You're joking!" Zayn exclaimed. "You! Work? What's happened? Someone die?"

"Not quite. But close." Harry picked up his glass and downed a long, cool swallow of beer before continuing. "Dad's off second-honeymooning with wife number five and I'm in charge of the ship."

"Should we sell our shares in Parkinson Media?" Zayn quipped.

Harry shrugged. "I shouldn't think so. No one could make worse business decisions than dear old Dad when he's consumed by unbridled lust. Who knows? By the time he comes back down to earth and wants to take the helm again, I might have recouped a few of the billions he's frittered away in the name of love. You might have forgotten, Malik, but I was dux of our school. I also graduated from uni with honours degrees in economics and corporate law. I'm not just a pretty face, you know."

"Now we know why your mind wasn't on your Polo today," said an enlightened Liam. "So when did all this happen?"

"Last weekend."

"No wonder you're looking a bit frazzled. I'll bet it's a long time since you've done a full day's work."

"It's been a while," Harry admitted, not willing to confess that there'd been a few weeks leading up to Christmas last year when he'd gone into the office almost every day and worked his silver tail off.

The reason for this episode of uncharacteristic diligence had been extremely perverse: his PA.

Harry hadn't realized when he'd hired Madeline Kay several months earlier that he might one day find her so damned sexy.

She wasn't conventionally beautiful, certainly not pretty. Her facial features were too large, her cheekbones too high and her mouth too wide. He also hadn't noticed her voluptuous figure at the time of her one and only interview. He'd been concentrating solely on what was contained in her excellent resume.

Of course, he'd been in a bit of a rush at the time, his father's decision to place him in charge of the publishing arms of Parkinson's having come right out of the blue.