Michele Dunaway - Sweeping The Bride Away

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Blade said. “But I still think you’re settling. You have passion, verve.”

“What do you know about me?”

“I know enough.” His voice was quiet, cutting through the kitchen like a knife.

Cassidy whirled away from him and gripped the granite countertop.

“Cassidy.”

Something in the tone of his voice softened her.

“Yes?”

“Are you afraid to turn around and look at me?”

Actually, at that moment she was. All she had to do was stand in the room and she wanted him. He tempted her like chocolate cake, but she needed to remain true to her diet of bland. Slowly Cassidy turned around and looked at him, sensing the mistake the moment she did so.

Dear Reader,

This month we have a wonderful lineup of stories, guaranteed to warm you on these last chilly days of winter. First, Charlotte Douglas kicks things off with Surprise Inheritance, the third installment in Mills & Boon American Romance’s MILLIONAIRE, MONTANA series, in which a sexy sheriff is reunited with the woman he’s always loved when she returns to town to claim her inheritance.

Next, THE BABIES OF DOCTORS CIRCLE, Jacqueline Diamond’s new miniseries centered around a maternity and well-baby clinic, premieres this month with Diagnosis: Expecting Boss’s Baby. In this sparkling story, an unforgettable night of passion between a secretary and her handsome employer leads to an unexpected pregnancy.

Also available this month is Sweeping the Bride Away by Michele Dunaway. A bride-to-be is all set to wed “Mr. Boring” until she hires a rugged contractor who makes her pulse race and gives her second thoughts about her upcoming nuptials. Rounding things out is Professor & the Pregnant Nanny by Emily Dalton. This heartwarming story pairs a single dad in need of a nanny for his three adorable children with a woman who is alone, pregnant and in need of a job.

Enjoy this month’s offerings as Mills & Boon American Romance continues to celebrate twenty years of publishing the best in contemporary category romance fiction. Be sure to come back next month for more stories guaranteed to touch your heart!

Melissa Jeglinski

Associate Senior Editor

Mills & Boon American Romance

Sweeping the Bride Away

Michele Dunaway

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedicated to my father, Larry M. Smith (1936-2002),

who always believed in me.

In first grade MICHELE DUNAWAYknew she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, and by second grade she wanted to be an author. By third grade she was determined to be both. Born and raised in a west county suburb of St. Louis, Michele recently moved to five acres in the rolling hills of Labadie. She’s traveled extensively, with the cities and places she’s visited often becoming settings for her stories.

Michele currently teaches high school English, raises her two young daughters and describes herself as a woman who does too much but doesn’t want to stop.

Michele loves to hear from readers, and you can visit her Web site at www.micheledunaway.comor write to her at P.O. Box 45, Labadie, MO 63055. Please enclose a SASE.

MILLS & BOON AMERICAN ROMANCE

848—A LITTLE OFFICE ROMANCE

900—TAMING THE TABLOID HEIRESS

921—THE SIMPLY SCANDALOUS PRINCESS

931—CATCHING THE CORPORATE PLAYBOY

963—SWEEPING THE BRIDE AWAY

Do…

…listen to everything your busybody future mother-in-law has to say.

…go to dress fittings even though your wedding attire makes you look like a cumulus cloud.

…have fun with girlfriends before the wedding (especially to encourage them to find their own Mr. Perfect).

…write your future married name repeatedly.

Don’t…

…stare at the good-looking contractor who’s working on your house.

…even think about wearing his tool belt.

…contemplate long walks on the beach with your good-looking contractor.

…believe everything your fiancé says. Looks can be deceiving.

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

Epilogue

Mistake number one had been letting Lillian Morris, neighbor from hell and her future mother-in-law, in the front door. Yes, it would have been much better to have just ignored the doorbell and pretended she wasn’t home. But Cassidy Clayton had been waiting for the city building inspector, and when she’d opened the door, unfortunately he hadn’t been standing on the other side.

Cassidy looked at her fiancé’s mother and grimaced. Once again, this time within five seconds after Lillian’s arrival, Cassidy had been hit up to set an exact wedding date.

“I’m not sure,” she said slowly, for it was always wise to choose your words carefully around Lillian, “exactly, if Dan and I want to marry this June. We haven’t discussed it. After all, we’ve only been engaged two months. I was thinking more like October. That’s eight months from now.”

Lillian Morris peered over her horn-rimmed glasses and with a dismissive wave brushed off Cassidy’s concerns.

“Darling Cassidy, engagements should be short. Yours can be even shorter than normal, given that you’ve known my son all your life. Besides, a June wedding is perfect for you and Dan. Even Ed,” Lillian mentioned her husband, “agrees with me. He’s going to announce Luke’s candidacy for senate right after the best man’s wedding toast. Of course, Dan already agreed that his brother, Luke, would be best man. It’s only fitting.”

Great. Before Cassidy could even fully open her mouth to remind Lillian whose wedding it was supposed to be, Lillian went right on. After all, Dan was her baby boy.

“Besides,” Lillian said, “Dan and I discussed it just last night and he agreed that June is perfect. Of course he wants to see his older brother win the senate race and keep the seat in the family. Luke would be the third generation you know. And we’ll hold the reception at the Diamond Country Club. I’ve already contacted the manager, booked the room and arranged the menu. We’ll be starting with roving waiters carrying trays of appetizers that are—”

If only for a brief moment, the doorbell’s ringing interrupted Lillian’s prattle. The older woman blinked, as if startled, as she glanced at Cassidy. “Are you expecting anyone?”

Even the devil himself was welcome at this moment. “City building inspector,” Cassidy replied as she rose from the overstuffed armchair that had been her mother’s latest attempt at redecorating.

Lillian nodded. “Oh, that makes sense. I had wondered why you were here. Usually you’re at work by now.” Lillian waved her hand dramatically around Cassidy’s family home.

“You must be so grateful, Cassidy, to have sold this albatross. I’d imagine it gives you terrible memories, especially with your father divorcing your mother clear out of the blue like that after what, thirty-seven years of marriage? No wonder she took off for Cannes. I’d do the same. Not that my Ed would ever leave me. Some marriages are just meant to last. But I’ve always been lucky. I hope your mother isn’t taking too much of a loss on the property. She should have fetched quite a price for this neighborhood, especially selling it furnished like that.”

Cassidy’s smile tightened. Next-door neighbors for almost twenty-five years, Cassidy’s mother had always said that if Senator Ed Morris had thought divorcing his wife was less of a liability than was keeping her, then the tactless Lillian would have already been history.

Cassidy opened the front door. The elderly inspector standing between the columns looked like a smaller version of Santa Claus. Cassidy sighed. He seemed harmless enough. Grateful for the welcome diversion from Lillian and the already insane wedding planning, she bade him to come in without shooing Lillian out. Right after that, Cassidy discovered that not getting rid of Lillian was mistake number two.

FOUR HOURS LATER Cassidy tossed her handbag onto the wooden bar. It landed with a thump, nearly knocking the half-empty bowl of peanuts off the other side. She ignored the curious look crossing the face of the man seated to her right.

“Bud Light.” The words coming from her lips sounded foreign to her own ears.

But the bartender simply nodded as if dodging flying peanuts was the norm, and without a word of judgment, she took a beer from the cooler, removed the top and handed over the longneck bottle.

Cassidy placed the cold brown glass to her lips and took a long slow slip of the golden liquid. Normally she avoided beer, but today an ice-cold one sounded like just the medicine she needed. Besides, it would serve her fiancé and his silly mother right. When she was with them she only drank wine, for in their “crowd” domestic beer was frowned upon as something bourgeois. As if millions of Americans who tossed cold ones back every night could be wrong.

Oh well, drinking beer could be mistake number three in her perfectly ordered world. With satisfaction Cassidy mulled over that thought. After all, what else could happen?

Thanks to Lillian’s inane prattle to the building inspector, which caused him to find even more code violations to cite, Cassie now had a multitude of problems all needing to be repaired by the home closing date in just two weeks’ time. If the code violations weren’t fixed, the house sale couldn’t be completed, and she couldn’t take a well-deserved vacation and close on her cute new condo in Clear Lake.

Cassidy took another long sip. The building inspector hadn’t missed a thing. She had to do everything from painting to fixing a cracked concrete pad under a screened-in porch.

Closing her eyes, Cassidy again let the cool liquid slide down her throat. Perfect. She opened her eyes. At least this one thing was what she needed, which was good because right now the rest of her life was absolutely falling apart.

And, of course, Sara wasn’t on time, and that was after Cassidy, preparing for her former college roommate’s perpetual lateness, had arrived fifteen minutes past their designated meeting time of seven o’clock. There was nothing Cassidy hated more than sitting in a bar by herself.

Making the best of it, she took another long swallow and drummed her manicured fingernails on the bar as she surveyed the place Sara had picked out. “No one will know you there,” Sara had said after Cassidy had called her in the throes of desperation. Now after seeing the place for herself, Cassidy couldn’t agree more. As an image consultant, she’d helped some of Houston’s elite refine their images, and this wasn’t where anyone worth their salt would ever be caught dead.

At least it wasn’t smoky, although that was about all it had going for it. There was no question that the place was a dive. The wooden tables had seen better days, the chairs were vinyl, and the waitress sported a tattoo under her Harley-Davidson T-shirt. All that was missing was sawdust covering the floor and musicians behind chicken wire.