Runaway Vegas Bride / Vegas Two-Step: Runaway Vegas Bride / Vegas Two-Step

Runaway Vegas Bride / Vegas Two-Step: Runaway Vegas Bride / Vegas Two-Step
Teresa Hill

Liz Talley

Runaway Vegas BrideWyatt has his hands full when he needs to save his uncle from eviction. The one bright spot is Jane, the only woman who can help him. The buttoned-down beauty poses an irresistible challenge to Wyatt’s playboy ways. And Vegas is the perfect place to show her how to unwind! Vegas Two-StepA post-makeover fling. That’s all Nellie wants from Jack. After all, a librarian from Texas doesn’t have a lot in common with a hot-shot tycoon. Sure, their week in Las Vegas is wonderful, but Nellie has her real life to get back to. Until Jack shows up in her home town!

RUNAWAY VEGAS BRIDE

TERESA HILL

AND

VEGAS TWO–STEP

LIZ TALLEY

www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)

RUNAWAY VEGAS BRIDE

TERESA HILL

Dear Reader,

Writers will tell you story ideas are all around us, and they truly are.

This idea came from a newspaper story about two elderly residents of a retirement home falling in love, much to the outrage of their respective families. Love in the eighties took on a whole new twist.

I took that idea and played with it, twisted it this way and that, turned it just so. It’s what writers do to make a story our own.

Who were these people who fell in love? What were they like? What reasons would their respective families have to be upset about that? How complicated could I make this? How much fun could we all have along the way?

The result is the kind of life in our eighties and even nineties that I hope all of us have: busy, fun, active, surrounded by friends and lots of love, along with glorious adventures. (And maybe a little scheming and meddling in our loved ones’ lives.)

Happy reading,

Teresa Hill

About the Author

TERESA HILL lives within sight of the mountains in upstate South Carolina with one husband, very understanding and supportive; one daughter, who’s taken up drumming (earplugs really don’t work that well. Neither do sound-muffling drum pads. Don’t believe anyone who says they do.); and one son, who’s studying the completely incomprehensible subject of chemical engineering (Flow rates, Mom. It’s all about flow rates.)

In search of company while she writes away her days in her office, she has so far accumulated two beautiful, spoiled dogs and three cats (a black panther/champion hunter, a giant powder puff and a tiny tiger-stripe), all of whom take turns being stretched out, belly up on the floor beside her, begging for attention as she sits at her computer.

To my son, John, on the occasion of his 21st birthday

and first trip to Vegas.

May your math skills and all those poker probabilities

you memorized serve you well.

And please stay far, far away from the

Love Me Tender Wedding Chapel.

Chapter One

“Darling, I’m in love!”

Jane Carlton choked on her hot tea, then covered the phone with her hand and mouthed to her assistant, “Did you say this is my grandmother?”

Lainie nodded, looking concerned. “What is it? She sounded okay. Is she okay?”

Jane threw up her hands as if to say she had no idea, then tucked the phone into her shoulder once again and said, “Gram?”

“Yes, dear. Did you hear me?”

“I…maybe,” Jane admitted. “Say it again?”

“I’m in love!”

The words came out sounding like lyrics in a musical—theatrical, whimsical, larger-than-life.

There was just one problem.

The women in Jane’s family didn’t do love. They didn’t do forevers.

Oh, they had men in their lives. But they made no mistakes about it involving anything as substantial and long-lasting as love.

Jane had learned that the hard way.

“Gram, I thought—”

“I know. I know! That’s why it’s so amazing! Me, in love, finally, at seventy-six! Who’d have believed it?”

“Wait,” Jane said, shaking her head. “Gram, you’re eighty-one—”

“He moved into one of the cottages a week ago! The most amazing man I’ve ever met in my life, Jane, and…Oh, here he comes! Leo! Over here! Over here!”

Jane’s grandma sounded like a teenager.

This was so bizarre.

Was it some kind of sudden-onset dementia that had her believing she was only seventy-six? Worst yet, could that have taken her back in her own mind to her teenage years in the four days since Jane’s last visit?

Because that’s what she sounded like, a ridiculous kid in love.

“Say you’ll come and have dinner with us so you can meet him,” Gram said. “Tonight? All right? It’s lasagna night. Goodbye, my darling girl.”