A Bride for the Runaway Groom. Scarlet Wilson

      

       Summer Weddings

       A season of confetti and whirlwind romances!

      You are cordially invited to attend the Huntingdon-Cross summer weddings.

      Celebrate the shotgun marriage of Daisy Huntingdon-Cross and Sebastian Beresford in

      Expecting the Earl’s Baby by Jessica Gilmore

      Save the date: on sale March 2015

      Raise a glass to Rose Huntingdon-Cross and Will Carter as they finally tie the knot in

      A Bride for the Runaway Groom by Scarlet Wilson

      Save the date: on sale April 2015

      Join us in celebrating Violet Huntingdon-Cross and Tom Buckley’s star-studded wedding day in

      Falling for the Bridesmaid by Sophie Pembroke

      Save the date: on sale May 2015

      A Bride for the Runaway Groom

      Scarlet Wilson

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      SCARLET WILSON writes romances and medical romances for Mills & Boon. She lives on the west coast of Scotland with her fiancé and their two sons. She loves to hear from readers and can be reached via her website, scarletwilson.com.

      MILLS & BOON

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      For two gorgeous brides who are now two fabulous mummies, Carissa Hyndman and Hayley Dickson.

      And to my fellow authors Jessica Gilmore and Sophie Pembroke for making this such fun!

      Contents

       Cover

      Summer Weddings

       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

      SOMETHING WASN’T RIGHT.

      No, scratch that. Something was very, very wrong.

      Everything should be perfect. Her sister’s wedding yesterday had been beautiful. A picture-perfect day with a bride and groom that truly loved each other. It was a joy to be a part of a day like that.

      But, by midnight, the days of jet lag that she’d been ignoring had finally caught up with her and she’d staggered to bed and collapsed in a heap, catching up on some much-needed sleep.

      Her new brother-in-law, Seb, had a house to die for. Hawksley Castle, a home part Norman, part Tudor and part Georgian. The room she was in was sumptuous and spacious with the most comfortable bed in the world.

      At least it would be—if she were in that bed alone.

      She could hear breathing, heavy breathing, sometimes accompanied with a tiny noise resembling a snore.

      Right now, she was afraid to move.

      She hadn’t drunk much at all yesterday—only two glasses of wine. Because of the jet lag they’d hit hard. But not so hard she’d invited someone into her bed.

      She’d attended her sister’s wedding alone. No plus-one for Rose.

      There had been no flirtations, no alluring glances and no invitations back to her room. And this definitely was her room. She opened her eyes just a little to check.

      Yes, there was her bright blue suitcase in the corner of the room. Thank goodness. She hadn’t been so tired that she’d stumbled into the wrong room. Seb’s house was so big it might have happened.

      But it hadn’t.

      So, who was heavy breathing in her bed?

      She didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to alert the intruder to the fact that she was awake. She could feel the dip in the bed at her back. Turning around and coming face-to-face with a perfect stranger wasn’t in her plans.

      She needed to think about this carefully.

      She edged her leg towards the side of the bed. Stealth mode. Then, cringed. No satin negligee. No pyjamas. Just the underwear she’d had on under her bridesmaid dress that was lying in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the bed. Brilliant. Just brilliant.

      Her painted toenails mocked her. As did her obligatory fake tan. Vulnerable. That was how she felt. And Rose Huntingdon-Cross didn’t take kindly to anyone who made her feel like that.

      Just then the stranger moved. A hand slid over her skin around her hip and settled on her stomach. She stifled a yelp as her breath caught in her throat. Something resembling a comfortable moan came from behind her as the stranger decided to cuddle in closer. The sensation of an unidentified warm body next to hers was more than she could take.

      She slid her legs and body as silently as possible out of the bed. The only thing close to hand that could resemble a weapon was a large pink vase. Her heart was thudding against her chest. How dared someone creep into bed with her and grope her?

      She held her breath as her feet came into contact with the soft carpet and she automatically grasped the vase in both hands.

      She spun around to