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 Earlâs 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 Buckleyâs star-studded wedding day in
Falling for the Bridesmaid by Sophie Pembroke
Save the date: on sale May 2015
CHAPTER ONE
SOMETHING WASNâT RIGHT.
No, scratch that. Something was very, very wrong.
Everything should be perfect. Her sisterâs 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 sheâd been ignoring had finally caught up with her and sheâd 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 beâif 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 hadnât drunk much at all yesterdayâonly two glasses of wine. Because of the jet lag theyâd hit hard. But not so hard sheâd invited someone into her bed.
Sheâd attended her sisterâs 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 hadnât been so tired that sheâd stumbled into the wrong room. Sebâs house was so big it might have happened.
But it hadnât.
So, who was heavy breathing in her bed?
She didnât want to move. Didnât 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 wasnât 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 sheâd 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 didnât 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 face the intruder. In other circumstances, this would be comical. But, right now, it felt anything but comical. She was practically naked and a strange man had crept into bed beside her. How dared he?
Who on earth was he? She didnât recognise him at all. But the wedding of an earl and a celebrity coupleâs daughter was full of people she couldnât even take a guess at. Undoubtedly he was some hanger-on.
If her rational head were in place she would grab her clothes and run from the room, getting someone to come and help with the intruder.
But Rose hated being thought of as a shrinking violet. For once, she wanted to sort things for herself.