A Bride's Tangled Vows

“Aiden?”

The sudden silence must have become too much for her, because Christina moved forward as if to continue down the stairs.

The polite thing would have been to step aside, but the ache to feel that body against his once more kept him perversely still. She slowed within a hair’s breadth, tension mounting once more. “Aiden?”

“So you’re really willing to do this?” he asked, almost holding his breath as he awaited her answer. What delicious torture to spend the next year with this woman and keep his hands to himself. Could he? This was a huge mistake.

“I don’t know. I don’t think I can, you know, share a bed with you.”

The way her voice trailed off told him how very uncomfortable she was, which only awakened images of making her very comfortable in a bed for two.

Maybe he could find a way to make this work.

* * *

A Bride’s Tangled Vows is part of the Mill Town Millionaires series.

A Bride’s

Tangled Vows

Dani Wade

www.millsandboon.co.uk

DANI WADE astonished her local librarians as a teenager when she carried home ten books every week—and actually read them all. Now she writes her own characters, who clamor for attention in the midst of the chaos that is her life. Residing in the southern United States with a husband, two kids, two dogs and one grumpy cat, she stays busy until she can closet herself away with her characters once more.

To the late Beverly Barton—you gave freely of your encouragement and advice the first time you read this story, and told me one day my time would come. Now that it’s here, I wish I could share it with you. But I know your gorgeous smile is lighting up heaven. I look forward to seeing you again …

Contents

Cover

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

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Extract

Copyright

One

Aiden Blackstone suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the afternoon thunderstorm raging all around him. For a moment, he remained immobile, staring at the elaborate scrolls carved into the heavy oak door before him. A door he’d promised himself he’d never pass through again—at least, not while his grandfather was alive.

I should have come back here, Mother, only to see you.

But he’d sworn never to let himself be locked inside the walls of Blackstone Manor again. He’d thought he had all the time he would need to make his absence up to his mother. In his youthful ignorance, he hadn’t realized everything he’d be giving up to uphold his vow. Now he was back to honor another vow—a promise to see that his mother was taken care of.

The thought had his stomach roiling. Shaking it off, he reached for the old-fashioned iron knocker shaped like a bear’s head. The cab had already left. On a day plagued by steamy, ferocious southern thunderstorms, he certainly wouldn’t be walking the ten miles back to Black Hills, no matter how much he dreaded this visit. His nausea eased as he reminded himself that he wouldn’t be here for long—only as long as necessary.

Knocking again, he listened intently for footsteps on the other side of the door. It wasn’t really home if you had to wait for someone to answer. He’d walked away with the surety that only comes with untried youth. Now he returned a different man, a success on his own terms. He just wouldn’t have the satisfaction of rubbing his grandfather’s nose in it.

Because James Blackstone was dead.

The knob rattled, then the door swung inward with a deep creak. A tall man, his posture still strong despite the gray hair disappearing from his head, blinked several times as if not sure his aging eyes were trustworthy. Though he’d left his childhood home on his eighteenth birthday, Aiden recognized Nolen, the family butler.

“Ah, Master Aiden, we’ve been expecting you,” the older man said.

“Thank you,” Aiden returned with polite sincerity, stepping closer to look into the butler’s faded blue eyes. Lightning cracked nearby and thunder almost immediately boomed with wall-rattling force, the storm a reflection of the upheaval deep in Aiden’s core.

Still studying his face, the older man opened the door wide enough for Aiden and his luggage. “Of course,” Nolen said, shutting out the pouring rain behind them. “It’s been a long time, Master Aiden.”

Aiden searched the other man’s voice for condemnation, but found none. “Please leave your luggage here. I’ll take it up once Marie has your room ready,” Nolen instructed.

So the same housekeeper—the one who’d baked cookies for him and his brothers while they were grieving the loss of their father—was still here, too. They said nothing ever changed in small towns. They were right.