Confessions Of A Bad Bridesmaid. Jennifer Rae

       ‘Stop apologising.’ Edward’s hands were shoved into his pockets and the collar of his grey coat was up.

      ‘What?’

      ‘You had a rough day. You drank too much champagne. It happens.’

      ‘But I … I …’ Threw myself at you. Tried to kiss you.

      Heat rushed up and burned Olivia’s cheeks. As if someone like Edward would ever kiss her. She snuck a quick look at him. Today he was even taller and more handsome. Even more unattainable.

      Stupid, stupid, Olivia, she berated herself. Always wishing for things she couldn’t have. Always falling for the wrong men. Not that she was falling for Edward. She just wanted to feel his skin. That wasn’t falling for him.

      That was just lust. Hot, dirty lust.

       Dear Reader

      This story has been kicking about in my head for a long time. In the beginning I didn’t know it was a story. It was just a scene of a girl traipsing along a lonely country road in the cold, towing a tower of luggage, while a car crept up behind her. I didn’t know who she was, and for a long time I wondered where she was going.

      But one day I was writing another story and this particular girl popped up in it. Suddenly I realised who she was—and where she was heading on that lonely road. I opened a blank page and started writing furiously. It was as if she had finally found a way out of my head and couldn’t wait to get onto the page.

      I hope you enjoy meeting Olivia—a vulnerable little peacock with a tough shell—and Edward—the man strong enough to see through to her beauty inside.

      These two people wanted me to tell you their story. So here it is. I hope you enjoy navigating through the maze of their love as much as I did.

      Love

       Jennifer Rae x

      Confessions of a Bad Bridesmaid

      Jennifer Rae

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      JENNIFER RAE, a journalist and freelance writer for some of Australia’s leading lifestyle magazines, had written plenty of short stories in her teenage years, but it wasn’t until she received a commission to interview a couple of romance-writers for a feature article that she was introduced to the romance genre.

      Finally the characters who had been milling around Jennifer’s head since her long years on the farm made sense and she realised it was time to start expanding her short stories into a book.

      So with little more than a guidebook borrowed from the local library and a you-can-do-this attitude, Jennifer sat down to release her characters and write her first romance novel. No one was more surprised than Jennifer when her novel was picked up by Harlequin just a few weeks after typing The End.

      Jennifer has spent the last twenty years travelling and living in the US and the UK but now calls Australia home.

       This is Jennifer Rae’s debut novel for MODERN TEMPTED™ and is available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk

      For Mick, who never gave up.

      Contents

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Chapter Twenty-One

       Chapter Twenty-Two

       Chapter Twenty-Three

       Chapter Twenty-Four

       Chapter Twenty-Five

       Chapter Twenty-Six

       Excerpt

      ONE

      It wasn’t just cold. It was bones-aching, tits-freezing cold. The white furry coat Olivia had purchased before she’d left home looked fabulous, but it was doing nothing to keep out the December winds that whistled along the rough country road she was now trudging down.

      ‘Five-hundred-dollar boots,’ she muttered as her cheetah print luggage got stuck in yet another muddy hole in the road. ‘F...’ she began, but the honk of a car horn behind her stopped the expletive coming out from between her hot-pink lips.

      The road had been deserted for the last hour. Not one car or person had come along as she’d waded through the slush and ice. But this car now stopped behind her and waited. She didn’t look back but moved to the side of the narrow road so it could pass. But the car didn’t move and a prickle of fear spread over her shoulders and into her stomach.

      ‘Wonderful. Now I’m to be murdered on the side of the road. What a fabulous start to my holiday,’ she muttered into the wind.

      Hopefully the killer would change his mind. Still, searching for an escape route seemed a sensible idea, so she anxiously swivelled her eyes to the sides of the road. The car crept up behind her again. Blood rushed to her head and burned her temples. She didn’t know what she was going to do. One thing she did know, though, was that when she found Edward Winchester she would kick him in his forgetful shins;