Winning Back His Bride. Teresa Southwick

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Winning Back His Bride - Teresa  Southwick


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      “Geneva. How long has it been?”

      What game was he playing? “You know as well as I do how long.”

      Michael looked steady and thoughtful, but that didn’t fool her. His jaw muscle tightening was a clue.

      “Oh, you mean the wedding,” he said. “The one where you left me at the altar.”

      She winced. How simple he made it sound. But it hadn’t been simple, and seeing him again dredged up all the painful feelings that had compelled her to leave him that day.

      Oh, he’d been willing to go through with the wedding—because he’d given his word. But Geneva had wanted more than just willing. She wanted love—the head-over-heels kind. The kind that could make a marriage work.

      The kind this man couldn’t give her.

      Winning Back his Bride

      Teresa Southwick

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      TERESA SOUTHWICK

      is delighted to be living out her lifelong dream of writing for Silhouette Romance and Silhouette Special Edition. She lives in Las Vegas, where she’s hard at work on her next romance novel.

      “Las Vegas is renowned as the wedding capital of the world, so when I decided to set this book here, I knew a wedding would figure prominently. And what if that wedding was one that didn’t happen? This was the core idea behind this book. I live in Las Vegas, and find it really is the most exciting city on the planet.”

      To Stacy Boyd,

       an editor with the perfect blend of

       efficiency, creativity and support.

       You’re the best!

      CONTENTS

      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 ONE

      PICTURE him naked.

      Geneva Porter was familiar with the technique public speakers used to calm nerves, but it wouldn’t work for her. This wasn’t public. She wasn’t speaking. And she’d already seen Michael Sullivan naked.

      However hot the memory, seeing the sexy Mr. Sullivan without his clothes was partially responsible for the disastrous series of events that had landed her right here, right now—waiting to see him and find out if she was Las Vegas’s latest events planner without a job.

      Unemployment would be bad. Seeing Michael Sullivan again… It was going to be very bad.

      But he was her boss as of a week ago when his deal to buy this hotel finalized. One by one he’d met with the existing managers. Now it was her turn. Time to get it over with and brazen out their first meeting since… Well, since she’d last seen him. On the bad scale, that time had been off the chart.

      Taking a deep breath wouldn’t help but she took one anyway as she knocked sharply on his door and let herself in. It was a spacious corner office with two sets of floor-to-ceiling windows, giving him two different and fabulous views of the Las Vegas Strip, Bellagio on one side, Caesar’s Palace on the other. Michael was sitting behind his desk oozing power and charisma.

      “Hello, Michael.” One look into his dark eyes dropped her stomach like the Insanity ride on top of the Stratosphere. Her heart pounded and her hands shook. “You look great.”

      How stupid did that sound? This was worse than bad.

      She’d met him over a year ago when he’d started the process of buying this property. He hadn’t changed a bit. He looked just as handsome, with his dark hair and a face that was all lean angles. But it was his smile that she’d fallen in love with and she wasn’t seeing it now.

      “Geneva.” His eyes narrowed and a muscle jumped in his jaw. “How long has it been?”

      What game was he playing? “You know as well as I do how long.”

      He looked steady and thoughtful but that didn’t fool her. The jaw muscle tightening again was a clue.

      “Oh. You mean the wedding,” he said.

      “Of course that’s what I mean.”

      “The one where you left me at the altar.”

      She winced. How simple he made it sound. How easily he said the words. But it hadn’t been simple or easy and seeing him again dredged up all the painful feelings that had compelled her to leave him that day. She feared making a mistake, a mistake too much like her parents had made by marrying each other. Feared that Michael had never loved her, that he’d proposed only because she’d been pregnant with his child, a baby she’d miscarried in the first trimester.

      He’d been willing to go through with the wedding—because he’d given his word. But, Geneva wanted more than just willing. She wanted love—the head-over-heels kind. The only kind that could fill the emptiness in her soul for the baby she’d lost. The only kind that would make a marriage work.

      Brushing nonexistent lint from the skirt of her black suit, she said, “About the wedding—”

      He held up a hand to stop her. “That’s not why I called you in.”

      “But it’s why you’re going to fire me.”

      One dark eyebrow rose. “Why would I do that?”

      She badly wanted to say “duh.” Instead she put as much sass as possible into the look she shot him. “Maybe because I left you at the altar?”

      “That was a year ago.”

      As if she didn’t know. “So you’re over it?”

      “Of course.”

      Of course? Just like that? So now she had new and different feelings yet to be identified. She didn’t want him to brood over her. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him in the first place. But he was dismissing her like an afterthought. She should be relieved. If she worked hard enough, maybe she could pull it off.

      “Good,” she said, nodding. “I guess that explains why you went ahead with the hotel deal.”

      “It’s business,” he snapped.

      “It’s Vegas,” she countered. “Mergers and acquisitions are announced every other week. A gazillion things have to fall into place before anyone signs on the dotted line. Deals fall apart all the time.”

      “You thought I’d back out because of you?” he asked. His voice could’ve frozen a glass of water in the middle of July.

      “Wouldn’t it have been easier?”

      “I don’t take the easy way out.” His gaze locked on hers and clearly said—not like some people. “And I’m getting the feeling you don’t want to work for me.”

      Probably because she didn’t. Not if she had to see him regularly. “I don’t have a choice. It’s called a contract. Although as the new owner of this hotel, you can terminate it.”

      “Why would I do that?”

      “Because you’re angry and want revenge. What happened between us was very public and—”

      “Very


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