“Don’t you think we should get to know each other better? I mean, we are going to be latched together for the wedding.”
That was her excuse and she was sticking to it. Her interest had nothing to do with the simmering attraction between them. Nothing to do with the way he studied her, or how watching him touch the silk petals had made her swallow, thinking of those same fingers against her own skin. Nothing to do with the way Kane Lennox had awakened something in her that she hadn’t expected.
He laid the silk flowers in his hand down on the table. “Is that all? Just trying to get to know the guy you’re going to be stuck with for a few hours at a reception?”
Nothing to do with the way looking at him made her wonder if she’d been missing out on something all these years. If Miss Responsibility should take a little vacation—before her vacation.
Susannah inhaled, and when she did she caught the citrus notes of his cologne. The quiet undertone of man. The low, unmistakable hum of sexual current. “Of course.”
Liar.
New York Times bestselling author Shirley Jump didn’t have the will-power to diet, nor the talent to master under-eye concealer, so she bowed out of a career in television and opted instead for a career where she could be paid to eat at her desk—writing. At first, seeking revenge on her children for their grocery store tantrums, she sold embarrassing essays about them to anthologies. However, it wasn’t enough to feed her growing addiction to writing funny. So she turned to the world of romance novels, where messes are (usually) cleaned up before The End. In the worlds Shirley gets to create and control, the children listen to their parents, the husbands always remember holidays, and the housework is magically done by elves. Though she’s thrilled to see her books in stores around the world, Shirley mostly writes because it gives her an excuse to avoid cleaning the toilets and helps feed her shoe habit. To learn more, visit her website at www.shirleyjump.com
Shirley Jump brings you
another sparkling romance
DOORSTEP DADDY in May
Dear Reader
In THE BRIDESMAID AND THE BILLIONAIRE, I’ve brought one of my favourite kinds of hero—the wealthy, troubled man—together with a quirky heroine and some of my absolutely favourite secondary characters: dogs. Anyone who regularly reads my blog (www.shirleyjump.blogspot.com) knows about my new little Havanese puppy, Sophie, and her adventures with my other two dogs. I had a lot of fun writing this book, and introducing some canine characters with personalities all their own!
I hope you enjoy this book, and thank you for being a regular reader of mine—and of Mills & Boon® Romance. Please write to me—either through my website, www.shirleyjump.com, or at PO Box 5126, Fort Wayne, IN 46895, USA—and tell me about your favourite Romance. Who knows? Maybe we’ve got a favourite book in common!
Happy reading
Shirley
THE BRIDESMAID AND THE BILLIONAIRE
BY
SHIRLEY JUMP
For Sherri, my own maid of honor and best friend, even though she got the part of the narrator in the fourth grade play. The best part about having her as a best friend is we’re never too grown up to have fun.
CHAPTER ONE
KANE Lennox’s bare feet sank into the new spring grass, his toes disappearing between the thick green blades like shy mice. He’d slept on mattresses that cost as much as a small sedan, walked on carpet that had been hand loomed in the Orient, and worn shoes made to order specifically for his feet by a cobbler in Italy. But those experiences paled in comparison to this one. Comfort slid through his veins, washing over him in a wave, lapping at the stress that normally constricted his heart, easing the emotion’s death grip on his arteries.
He halted midstep, tossing the conundrum around in his mind. How could something so simple, so basic, as walking barefoot on grass, feel so wonderful?
“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”
Kane whirled around at the sound of the woman’s voice. Tall and thin, her blond hair hanging in a long straight curtain to her waist, she stood with tight fists propped on her hips. Her features were delicate, classic, with wide green eyes and lush dark pink lips, but right now her face had been transformed by a mask of confusion and annoyance. In one hand she held a cell phone, her thumb over the send button, 9-1-1 just a push away.
Not that he could blame her. Even he had to admit what he was doing looked…odd. Out of place. Kane put up both hands. The “See, I’m okay, not carrying any lethal weapons” posture. “There’s a perfectly logical explanation for my behavior,” he said. “And my presence.”
She raised a dubious brow, but looked a bit worried, even apprehensive. “A total stranger. Barefoot. On my sister’s lawn. In the middle of the day. Uh-huh. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for that.” She turned, casting a hand over her eyes, shading them from the sun. “Either there’s some cameraman waiting to jump out of the shrubbery with a ‘Surprise, you’re on Candid Camera’ announcement, or you’re here on some loony-bin field trip.”
He laughed. “I assure you, I’m not crazy.”
Though the last few weeks had driven him nearly to insanity. Which had pushed him to this point. To the small town of Chapel Ridge, in the middle of Indiana. To—
Being barefoot on, as she had said, her sister’s lawn in the middle of a bright April day. Okay, so it was mildly crazy.
“That leaves the Candid Camera option, which I’m definitely not in the mood for, or…trespassing.” She held up the phone like a barrier against a vampire. “Either way, I’m calling the cops.”
“Wait.” He took a step forward, thought better of it and backed up. As his gaze swept over her a second time, he realized she looked familiar, and now knew why. “You must be…” He racked his brain. Usually he was so good at names. But this time, he couldn’t come up with hers. “The sister of the bride. Jackie’s sister.”
“I get it. You’re a detective who does his best thinking in his bare feet, is that it?” She gave him a sardonic grin. “Must have been tough, putting all the puzzle pieces together, what with the Congratulations Jackie and Paul sign out front, the paper wedding bells hanging on the mailbox. Oh, and the happiness emanating from the house like cheap perfume.” She paused midtirade. “Wait. How do you know who I am?”
Kane gave her an assessing glance, avoiding the question. “What’s made you so disagreeable?”
She sighed and lowered the phone. “I’ve had a rough day. A rough life and—” She cut herself off again. “How do you do that? I’m not telling you a single thing about me.”
“Listen, I’ll just get out of here and leave you to your day. I’ve clearly come at a bad time.” He bent over, picked up his designer Italian leather dress shoes and started to leave.
“Wait.” She let out a gust.
He turned back and for a second, Kane swore he heard a spark of himself—of the last few months, the days that had driven him to this town, to this crazy idea—in that sound. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, and the spark of distrust had returned.
“You still haven’t told me why you’re barefoot on the lawn in the middle of the day.”
Kane’s jaw hardened. “We’re back to that again?”
“When did we ever leave that topic?” She parked her fists back on her hips, the cell phone dangling between two fingers.
Telling