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, thereâs only one place for the errant aristocrat to wait out the scandal: her best friendâs 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 heâd love again. But he doesnât know her secret, and if she reveals the truth, he might be the one to run this time around.
âIf you know Juliette so well, why did you break in?â
âShe was supposed to leave me a key, but I couldnât find it.â
He squinted at her. âWhere was she supposed to leave it?â
âUnder a planter. She wasnât specific, and, as I said, I couldnât find it. Thatâs when I saw the open windowââ
Ethan held up his hand, silencing her.
âJust give me your cell phone.â
âI donât have it on my person.â
His mouth twisted in a dubious expression and he grunted. âOn your person? Iâve been giving you the benefit of the doubt. If you donât want to cooperate, I can call Joyce back and we can sort out whatâs what down at the station.â
He held out his hand again, this time moving his fingers in a âgive it to meâ gesture.
âItâs in the car.â Now he was starting to irritate her. âIâm certainly not hiding it.â 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 didnât leave room for secret pockets.
When she realized that Ethan Campbellâs gaze was meandering the same path her own hands had traced she regretted issuing the invitation.
Celebration, TX: Love is just a celebration away...
National bestselling author NANCY ROBARDS THOMPSON holds a degree in journalism. She worked as a newspaper reporter until she realized reporting âjust the factsâ bored her silly. Now that she has much more content to report to her muse, Nancy loves writing womenâs fiction and romance full-time. Critics have deemed her work âfunny, smart and observant.â 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 Cowboyâs Runaway Bride and for your unwavering friendship. Kathy, youâre the sister of my heart.
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 formidableâcold and utterly unwelcomingâlike it didnât want to be friends. It was so contrary to her university roommate Juliette Lowellâs 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 wasnât 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 Downingâs daughter didnât offer much latitude or forgiveness. In fact, sometimes it seemed as if people were standing back and waiting for her to fall. When she didnât, 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 couldnât confirm, they invented or they paid off acquaintances to create stories for them. She had experienced that compliments of a reporter named Bertie Veal, who had stalked her since university.
Most recently, heâd colluded with her ex to ruin her life. There was no worse betrayal than when someone you trusted in the most intimate way sold your most vulnerable moment to the press.
Chelsea tried to blink away the image, but it was burned into her brain. Intimate footage she didnât know existed until it had appeared on the tabloidâs website.
She shuddered at the thought as she lifted the welcome mat in search of the key Juliette had left for her. The video had set off a humiliating chain reaction, the worst of which was her fatherâs embarrassment and disappointment.