Free Secrets of the Tycoon's Bride by Emilie Rose Page A

Surely if anyone is paying attention to our itinerary they’d expect us to want to be alone sometimes?”
    Now that she mentioned it, he could see her fatigue in the faint shadows beneath her eyes and the slight downward turn of her mouth.
    For sanity’s sake he should be a bastard and insist on going out, but instead he ground his teeth on a frustrated curse.
    It was going to be a long night.
    â€œPick whatever you want to eat and shove it in the microwave. I’m going for a run. I’ll be back in an hour.”
    And then Adam did something he’d never done before.
    He ran from a woman.

Five
    T hursday. Her wedding day.
    Lauryn had never been claustrophobic before, but she was getting there fast. The walls of the spacious oceanfront bedroom seemed to close in around her as the clock inched toward the time set for the ceremony. Her pulse raced and her mouth felt as dry and gritty as the sand dunes outside the cottage.
    The silk chiffon of her strapless ivory tea-length dress fluttered against her shins as she paced from the window to the door and back, again and again, and the lace bolero jacket abraded her neck and shoulders. Since the ceremony would take place on the beach she’d decided against wearing shoes, and the floor tiles further chilled her already cold bare feet.
    Cold feet. Appropriate.
    She couldn’t help comparing this wedding to her first. Her ex had had an agenda. So did Adam. Only Adam’s wasn’t illegal and no one would get hurt. Or arrested. Plus Lauryn knew what she was getting into this time. At least she hoped she did.
    At eighteen and a day, she’d been incredibly young, naive and hardheaded when her father had forbidden her to see Tommy Saunders again. She’d foolishly believed herself old enough and wise enough to know better than her father. She and her dad had had another one of their legendary screaming matches, but this time Lauryn’s mother hadn’t played mediator the way she usually did when Lauryn’s father went all dictatorial.
    Afterward Lauryn had hidden in her room and called Tommy to vent. He’d insisted she was of age and her father couldn’t tell her what to do anymore. On a wave of righteous indignation she’d agreed to go to Mexico with Tommy for spring break. Two days later she’d packed her bags, lied about spending the week at the beach with a girlfriend and left. Not one of her finest decisions.
    In Tijuana Tommy had plied her with tequila and then asked her to marry him. She’d almost agreed, but even tipsy she’d known better than to cross her father that drastically.
    The next morning she’d awoken hungover and with a cheap wedding ring on her finger that she couldn’t remember putting there. When she’d freaked out Tommy had admitted he’d slipped something into her drink to loosen her inhibitions and help her make the decision he knew she really wanted to make.
    His high-handedness had worried her but she’d loved him enough to make excuses for him. She hadn’t panicked until he revealed his scheme over lunch to make them both rich and then she’d suddenly felt queasy and afraid.
    Blaming her hangover, she’d excused herself to go to the bathroom, slipped out the backdoor of the cantina, found a phone and called her father.
    That was the last time Lauryn had rebelled. After her father had rescued her from that disaster she’d become the perfect dutiful daughter, a straight-A student and as prim and proper as Emily Post.
    Emily Post wouldn’t be eloping in the Bahamas or neglecting to invite her mother to the ceremony.
    Wincing, Lauryn paused by the glass doors leading to the deck. She hadn’t called because she didn’t want her mother to know about this marriage. Susan would be upset at how far Lauryn was willing to go to gain information about her birthmother, and she’d be hurt. She’d view this as another sign that she’d failed