The Bridesmaid and the Billionaire

“Don’t you think we should get to know each other better? I mean, we are going to be latched together for the wedding.”

That was her excuse and she was sticking to it. Her interest had nothing to do with the simmering attraction between them. Nothing to do with the way he studied her, or how watching him touch the silk petals had made her swallow, thinking of those same fingers against her own skin. Nothing to do with the way Kane Lennox had awakened something in her that she hadn’t expected.

He laid the silk flowers in his hand down on the table. “Is that all? Just trying to get to know the guy you’re going to be stuck with for a few hours at a reception?”

Nothing to do with the way looking at him made her wonder if she’d been missing out on something all these years. If Miss Responsibility should take a little vacation—before her vacation.

Susannah inhaled, and when she did she caught the citrus notes of his cologne. The quiet undertone of man. The low, unmistakable hum of sexual current. “Of course.”

Liar.

New York Times bestselling author Shirley Jump didn’t have the will-power to diet, nor the talent to master under-eye concealer, so she bowed out of a career in television and opted instead for a career where she could be paid to eat at her desk—writing. At first, seeking revenge on her children for their grocery store tantrums, she sold embarrassing essays about them to anthologies. However, it wasn’t enough to feed her growing addiction to writing funny. So she turned to the world of romance novels, where messes are (usually) cleaned up before The End. In the worlds Shirley gets to create and control, the children listen to their parents, the husbands always remember holidays, and the housework is magically done by elves. Though she’s thrilled to see her books in stores around the world, Shirley mostly writes because it gives her an excuse to avoid cleaning the toilets and helps feed her shoe habit. To learn more, visit her website at www.shirleyjump.com

Shirley Jump brings you

another sparkling romance DOORSTEP DADDY in May

Dear Reader

In THE BRIDESMAID AND THE BILLIONAIRE, I’ve brought one of my favourite kinds of hero—the wealthy, troubled man—together with a quirky heroine and some of my absolutely favourite secondary characters: dogs. Anyone who regularly reads my blog (www.shirleyjump.blogspot.com) knows about my new little Havanese puppy, Sophie, and her adventures with my other two dogs. I had a lot of fun writing this book, and introducing some canine characters with personalities all their own!

I hope you enjoy this book, and thank you for being a regular reader of mine—and of Mills & Boon^>® Romance. Please write to me—either through my website, www.shirleyjump.com, or at PO Box 5126, Fort Wayne, IN 46895, USA—and tell me about your favourite Romance. Who knows? Maybe we’ve got a favourite book in common!

Happy reading

Shirley

BY

SHIRLEY JUMP

For Sherri, my own maid of honor and best friend, even though she got the part of the narrator in the fourth grade play. The best part about having her as a best friend is we’re never too grown up to have fun.

CHAPTER ONE

KANE Lennox’s bare feet sank into the new spring grass, his toes disappearing between the thick green blades like shy mice. He’d slept on mattresses that cost as much as a small sedan, walked on carpet that had been hand loomed in the Orient, and worn shoes made to order specifically for his feet by a cobbler in Italy. But those experiences paled in comparison to this one. Comfort slid through his veins, washing over him in a wave, lapping at the stress that normally constricted his heart, easing the emotion’s death grip on his arteries.

He halted midstep, tossing the conundrum around in his mind. How could something so simple, so basic, as walking barefoot on grass, feel so wonderful?

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Kane whirled around at the sound of the woman’s voice. Tall and thin, her blond hair hanging in a long straight curtain to her waist, she stood with tight fists propped on her hips. Her features were delicate, classic, with wide green eyes and lush dark pink lips, but right now her face had been transformed by a mask of confusion and annoyance. In one hand she held a cell phone, her thumb over the send button, 9-1-1 just a push away.

Not that he could blame her. Even he had to admit what he was doing looked…odd. Out of place. Kane put up both hands. The “See, I’m okay, not carrying any lethal weapons” posture. “There’s a perfectly logical explanation for my behavior,” he said. “And my presence.”

She raised a dubious brow, but looked a bit worried, even apprehensive. “A total stranger. Barefoot. On my sister’s lawn. In the middle of the day. Uh-huh. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for that.” She turned, casting a hand over her eyes, shading them from the sun. “Either there’s some cameraman waiting to jump out of the shrubbery with a ‘Surprise, you’re on