The Cowboy's Runaway Bride. Nancy Thompson Robards

      

      And the bride wore...running shoes?

      Publicly shamed by her former fiancé, Lady Chelsea Ashford Alden has fallen from grace and her intimate life has become fodder for the British tabloids. On the run from the paparazzi, there’s only one place for the errant aristocrat to wait out the scandal: her best friend’s cottage in Celebration, Texas...

      Instead of foiling a burglar, rancher Ethan Campbell startles a gorgeous blonde in the bathtub! Chelsea covers up...her true identity. But not her sizzling attraction to the tall, dark and hunky cowboy. Ethan has loved and lost, and until Chelsea, he never thought he’d love again. But he doesn’t know her secret, and if she reveals the truth, he might be the one to run this time around.

      “If you know Juliette so well, why did you break in?”

      “She was supposed to leave me a key, but I couldn’t find it.”

      He squinted at her. “Where was she supposed to leave it?”

      “Under a planter. She wasn’t specific, and, as I said, I couldn’t find it. That’s when I saw the open window—”

      Ethan held up his hand, silencing her.

      “Just give me your cell phone.”

      “I don’t have it on my person.”

      His mouth twisted in a dubious expression and he grunted. “On your person? I’ve been giving you the benefit of the doubt. If you don’t want to cooperate, I can call Joyce back and we can sort out what’s what down at the station.”

      He held out his hand again, this time moving his fingers in a “give it to me” gesture.

      “It’s in the car.” Now he was starting to irritate her. “I’m certainly not hiding it.” She ran her hands down the silhouette of her body to emphasize that she was wearing a T-shirt and a rather snug skirt that didn’t leave room for secret pockets.

      When she realized that Ethan Campbell’s gaze was meandering the same path her own hands had traced she regretted issuing the invitation.

      Celebration, TX: Love is just a celebration away...

      The Cowboy’s Runaway Bride

      Nancy Robards Thompson

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      National bestselling author NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON holds a degree in journalism. She worked as a newspaper reporter until she realized reporting “just the facts” bored her silly. Now that she has much more content to report to her muse, Nancy loves writing women’s fiction and romance full-time. Critics have deemed her work “funny, smart and observant.” She resides in Florida with her husband and daughter. You can reach her at www.nancyrobardsthompson.com and Facebook.com/nancyrobardsthompsonbooks.

      This book is dedicated to Katherine Garbera

      for helping me dream up the heroine of

      The Cowboy’s Runaway Bride

      and for your unwavering friendship.

      Kathy, you’re the sister of my heart.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       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

       Extract

       Copyright

       Chapter One

      Lady Chelsea Ashford Alden cast a wary glance over her shoulder as she approached the front door of the gray stone cottage.

      The place looked dark and formidable—cold and utterly unwelcoming—like it didn’t want to be friends. It was so contrary to her university roommate Juliette Lowell’s vibrant personality. Hard to believe Juliette lived here. However, in the dark, Chelsea could see the numbers on the house matched the address her friend had given her.

      The fingernail of moon hanging high in the inky Texas sky wasn’t her friend, either. It did nothing to light the porch. Then again, maybe the darkness was her best ally, cloaking her in shadows, hiding her from the monster that had sent her running to Juliette for refuge in the first place.

      Life as the Earl of Downing’s daughter didn’t offer much latitude or forgiveness. In fact, sometimes it seemed as if people were standing back and waiting for her to fall. When she didn’t, others were looking for opportunities to pull the rug out from under her or stick out a leg to trip her up.

      Which was why she was in Texas.

      She was tired of the limelight; tired of the pomp and pretense; tired of people using her; tired of watching her life play out on the covers of the British tabloids. Because God knew what the paparazzi couldn’t confirm, they invented or they paid off acquaintances to create stories for them. She had experienced