How to Be a Blissful Bride

by Stacy Connelly

  Alexa’s always played it safe.

  Until one wild weekend changed her world!

  After a romantic fling left her breathless—and pregnant—heiress Alexa Mayhew never expects to see Chance McClaren again. But when she bumps into him while on vacation, the truth comes out. Instant daddy Chance wants to do the right thing for his baby—and Alexa. But is the globe-trotting adventure junkie ready to give up his career to be the family man Lexi craves?

  She and Chance had made a baby.

  As far as Alexa was concerned, it was a tiny miracle.

  A miracle she needed to share. Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she whispered, “Chance...”

  “I think you said everything you needed to say during our last phone call.”

  Goodbye was pretty much all they’d said during that phone call, and so much had happened since then. Finding out that she was pregnant, the bombing, the reports of his death.

  He started to turn away, then stopped. Alexa’s heart jumped to her throat as he reached up a hand and brushed his fingers through her hair. A muscle in his jaw clenched, and she could only stare helplessly into the firestorm of emotions in his midnight eyes.

  For a split second, she thought he was going to pull her closer, to kiss her the way he had underneath the sparkling chandelier in the glittering ballroom. To kiss her the way he had every night since in her dreams.

  His voice gravel rough, he said, “I think you must have dropped this.”

  Only after he moved away from her did she lift a hand to the spot above her ear. Her fingers brushed against a thin piece of metal. She pulled the hairpin from her hair and stared at the bejeweled butterfly clip she hadn’t seen in four months.

  * * *

  HILLCREST HOUSE: Destination...romance

  Dear Reader,

  Welcome back to Hillcrest House: destination...romance!

  What is your earliest childhood memory? While I think I remember going to the hospital after my younger brother was born, I was only three at the time, so I’m not sure if that’s a real memory or not. I definitely remember the day of my fifth birthday. I can still picture waking up, seeing the sunlight streaming through the curtains and thinking to myself, “It’s my birthday today, and I’m FIVE!”

  For Chance McClaren and Alexa Mayhew, some of their early memories aren’t happy ones. Chance suffered a traumatic injury as a child and Alexa lost her parents. Their reactions to these incidents have shaped their lives in very different ways—Chance is a risk-taker and adventurer; Alexa is careful, always playing things safe.

  But when a weekend fling between these two opposites leads to a plus sign on a pregnancy test, will they be willing to put their pasts behind them and place their hope in a future together?

  I hope you enjoy this return to Hillcrest House and that you will look for cousin Evie McClaren’s book, coming soon! These couples might not be looking for love, but at a gorgeous Victorian hotel that promises romance and happily-ever-after, what else can they say but “I do”?

  Happy reading!

  Stacy Connelly

  How to Be a Blissful Bride

  Stacy Connelly

  Stacy Connelly has dreamed of publishing books since she was a kid, writing stories about a girl and her horse. Eventually, boys made it onto the pages as she discovered a love of romance and the promise of happily-ever-after. When she is not lost in the land of make-believe, Stacy lives in Arizona with her three spoiled dogs. She loves to hear from readers at stacyconnelly@cox.net or stacyconnelly.com.

  Books by Stacy Connelly

  Harlequin Special Edition

  Hillcrest House

  The Best Man Takes a Bride

  The Pirelli Brothers

  His Secret Son

  Romancing the Rancher

  Small-Town Cinderella

  Daddy Says, “I Do!”

  Darcy and the Single Dad

  Her Fill-In Fiancé

  Temporary Boss...Forever Husband

  The Wedding She Always Wanted

  Once Upon a Wedding

  All She Wants for Christmas

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

  Join Harlequin My Rewards today and earn a FREE ebook!

  Click here to Join Harlequin My Rewards

  http://www.harlequin.com/myrewards.html?mt=loyalty&cmpid=EBOOBPBPA201602010002

  To Cindy—

  So glad our love of romance

  (and especially of Special Edition)

  has brought us together as friends and fellow writers!

  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 Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Excerpt from The Sheriff of Wickham Falls by Rochelle Alers

  Excerpt from The Texas Cowboy’s Quadruplets by Cathy Gillen Thacker

  Chapter One

  Chance McClaren took a deep breath of cool, ocean-scented air and willed his body to relax. Closing his eyes, he let the sound of the waves rushing against the rocky shoreline wash over him. Faint sunlight barely broke through the November haze, but he focused on the warmth against his skin. Gradually, his muscles started to relax. Neck, shoulders, arms. Not his right leg, but that tightness was due to more than tension.

  He could do this. He could smile, he could play along. He could pretend...for as long as it took for his body to heal. For as long as it took to get the hell out of Clearville.

  Opening his eyes, he hazarded a glance over his shoulder and scowled. The old lady was still there. Hovering over him. Staring down at him. Watching him.

  Turning at the waist until the joints in his back popped, Chance muttered, “You’re losin’ it, man.”

  He rubbed at the back of his neck, the skin there feeling bare without the weight of the familiar camera strap. As a photojournalist, Chance had the gift of capturing a moment for everyone to see. Of making still images come alive for people half a world away.

  But bringing life to a photo was one thing. Imagining that his family’s Victorian hotel, the old lady behind him, was living, breathing, watching him... That was something else.

  “Please come, Chance,” his younger sister, Rory, had pleaded. “You haven’t been to Hillcrest House in years. Being here will be good for you.”

  His sister had always loved the old gal. Chance’s lips twitched in a smile. The hotel and their Aunt Evelyn, who ran the place and would slay him with a killer glare for even thinking of her as old.

  Rory and their cousin, Evie, had moved to Clearville months earlier to take over while their aunt went through cancer treatments. Aunt Evelyn was splitting time between staying with his parents and staying with Evie’s parents as she recovered from surgeries and chemotherapy.

  Even if they hadn’t had their hands full, Chance couldn’t have stayed at his parents’ house for another minute. He loved them, he did. But the worry and the lingering sorrow in their gazes, even now that they knew he was safe—knew he was alive—weighed down on him. Suffocated him.

  They’d never understood his desire to see the world, to live his life with his backpack and camera gear the only baggage allowed. He was free t
o come and go as he pleased, to live his life the way he wanted, and his work made a difference! He had contacts around the globe. He could go into places other journalists couldn’t go and tell the stories that might otherwise remain unheard.

  His parents had always had a straighter, safer path in mind for him. One that included following in his father’s footsteps and taking over the small photography studio Matthew McClaren owned, buying a house and settling down with a wife and kids.

  Chance had jumped the curb and taken his life off-road when he left home at eighteen and had never come close to veering anywhere near that white-picket-fence neighborhood again. He wasn’t the settling kind, and while his parents might not understand that, Chance always believed they respected what he’d accomplished, respected the heights he’d achieved in his career...

  Or at least he had until that whispered conversation he’d overheard, the one that made it clear he couldn’t stay under his parents’ roof any longer than necessary.

  We’re your family, Chance. We love you.

  His mother’s words, the confusion on her face when he walked out—first as a hotheaded kid and then again, just a few weeks ago—cut deep. But he’d known if he didn’t leave, he would only end up saying something he would regret.

  His parents hadn’t wanted him to be alone while he was recovering, and he’d thought staying with Rory and Evie might be enough to ease their concern while still giving him space to breathe.

  Now he wasn’t so sure.

  “Oh, Chance, this will be so perfect!” his sister had gushed the moment he set foot inside the family hotel. “Our current photographer is moving away soon.”

  He’d forgotten about the whole all-inclusive wedding destination business that had been his aunt’s brainchild about a year ago. He didn’t know how considering, as the hotel’s wedding coordinator, the ceremonies were all Rory talked about. Especially now that she’d found a groom-to-be of her own.

  “You can fill in while you’re here!”

  Wedding photographer? Yeah, that was right up there with fashion photographer as a worst nightmare. “Not exactly my thing, Rory.”

  He felt like he’d kicked a puppy as he watched the excitement in his little sister’s eyes dim. Jamison Porter, Rory’s fiancé, had studied him carefully during that first meeting and suggested, “Why don’t you let your brother get settled before offering him a job, sweetheart?”

  At that, Rory had recovered quickly, wrapping her arms around him in a far more cautious version of her usual exuberant hug. “Of course! What was I thinking? We have the cottage house set up for you.”

  The caretaker’s cottage was a small wood and stone structure on the grounds, but well away from the hotel itself. Chance welcomed the privacy even if staying there felt like living in a very girlie dollhouse thanks to Rory’s decorating skills.

  But he’d take the dollhouse over his childhood bedroom. And it was only for a month—maybe two. His leg was getting stronger every day, and Chance refused to think he wouldn’t make it back to 100 percent.

  And after a few days of consideration, he’d even agreed to fill in as wedding photographer—which he still couldn’t quite believe. But he needed something to keep his mind active, to keep moving.

  He’d traveled to some of the most desperate, poverty-stricken, war-torn areas in the world and yet nothing—nothing—was quite as scary as walking into a room filled with marriage-minded women riding high on romance.

  Shuddering, he shifted his weight to his right side, testing his leg without the help of the crutches he’d only recently left behind. Sharp shards of pain sliced through muscle and bone. He’d pushed himself too hard, the packed sand more of a challenge than he’d expected. He had a long walk back to the hotel in front of him.

  He pulled in a breath before taking that first step, beads of sweat popping up along his hairline and instantly cooling in the ocean breeze. The stormy blue-gray water was nearly the same color as the stormy blue-gray sky. Nearly the same color as a pair of stormy blue-gray eyes that had haunted him for months.

  Alexa Mayhew had been draped in gold the night they met. Beneath a sparkling crystal chandelier, she’d glittered with the grace and elegance of a goddess. She was tall and slender, with a poise and prestige that allowed her to move in elite circles where most mortals wouldn’t be welcomed. And yet he’d sensed a restlessness inside her the moment their gazes met across the ballroom, a need to throw aside the fake smiles and polite facade and grab hold of something real...

  Or so he’d thought until she made herself clear. She’d been slumming their weekend together. Different worlds, different lives...different bank accounts.

  Reaching into the pocket of his baggy khakis, he fingered the small jeweled hairpin he’d been carrying with him since that weekend. In his line of work, he’d learned to travel light. No extra baggage allowed. And yet, he hadn’t been able to leave the small reminder behind any more than he could convince himself to return it to the woman it belonged to. Such a small thing, he hadn’t thought carrying it with him could hurt.

  He’d certainly never imagined it would save his life.

  He wasn’t superstitious and he wasn’t sentimental. He certainly didn’t believe in love at first sight, so why was he having such a hard time letting Alexa go?

  * * *

  “Welcome to Hillcrest. And I understand congratulations are in order?”

  Standing in the elegant lobby of the Victorian hotel, Alexa Mayhew hoped she managed a smile to fool the bright-eyed wedding coordinator.

  “It’s not official yet,” she murmured, trying to somewhat inconspicuously hide her left hand in the folds of her wide-legged gray trousers. Her naked left hand, unlike the woman in front of her who sported a sparkling rock on her own third finger.

  “But we’d still like a tour of the grounds while we’re staying here if that’s possible.” Griffin James wrapped an arm around Alexa’s shoulders and pulled her tight to his side. “Isn’t that right, sweetie?”

  Alexa stumbled slightly at the sudden move before regaining her balance. She and Griffin had checked in earlier that day after a long drive from Los Angeles. Worn out from hours in the car and feeling more than a little nauseous from the twists and turns on the mountain roads leading into the small Northern California town, she had lain down for a short rest while Griffin had—

  Alexa tried to withhold a sigh. Who knows what Griffin had done? Announced their impending engagement from the top turret of the towering Victorian mansion, for all she knew.

  She shot her could-be fiancé a glare he returned with a wink and a grin, knowing she could never stay mad at him. He’d been her best friend since childhood, the one person she could turn to when times got tough. The one person who could always make her laugh—which was pretty much what she’d done when he proposed.

  “Griffin,” she started to protest.

  “Come on. It’ll be fun. A good chance to take a look around.” His eyebrows rose pointedly, reminding her why he had chosen this particular hotel.

  Alexa hadn’t really cared where they stayed, too eager to accept his offer of a break away from the demands of her grandmother’s charity foundation. And from the demands of her grandmother.

  From the time she’d gone to live with Virginia Mayhew, the wealthy philanthropist had instilled in Alexa a sense of responsibility. In the past decade or so, she had become the face of the foundation. She spent countless hours fund-raising, overseeing charity events, speaking with the media, all in an effort to give back.

  But for the first time in her life, Alexa had something she wanted to hold on to...just for herself. She needed to get away, and though she was aware of the faint and almost constant vibrations coming from the cell phone tucked in her purse, she refused to check the barrage of emails and text messages.

  Understanding Griffin’s unspoken professional interest in looking a
round the hotel, she said, “We’d love a tour.”

  “I have some time free now if you’re not too tired from traveling,” the woman offered. “And I’m Rory, by the way. Rory Mc—”

  A high-pitched whistle sounded, and she glanced at the phone in her own hand. A dreamy smile lit her already beautiful face at the text flashing across the screen. The moment lasted only a split second before she appeared to snap back to reality. A slight blush rose to her cheeks as she slipped the phone into a hidden pocket in the folds of her full skirt. “Sorry about that. That was my fiancé and... Well—” she shot a woman-to-woman look at Alexa “—you know how it is, right?”

  “Of course.” Even as happy as the other woman looked, Alexa would bet Rory hadn’t laughed out loud when her fiancé proposed.

  “Let’s start inside, and then I can show you around the grounds. We remodeled the gazebo over the summer, and it’s always a popular spot—depending on the time of year for the ceremony. Have the two of you picked a date yet?” Rory asked.

  Griffin shot Alexa a questioning look, calling her out on dragging her feet—literally across the richly patterned carpet and in giving a definitive answer to the question he’d asked.

  Fall decorations highlighted the elegant lobby—a cornucopia on the concierge desk; red, yellow and orange leaf garland wrapped the deep walnut carved columns, and a huge grapevine wreath dotted with tiny pumpkins and squash hung above the river-stone fireplace in the sitting area. Scents of cinnamon and cloves filled the air.

  All signs of how quickly time was flying by. Hard to believe Thanksgiving was only three weeks away. Especially when every time Alexa closed her eyes, her thoughts drifted back to the end of summer.

  “Sometime before April, I’m thinking,” Griffin answered wryly when Alexa stayed silent.

  “Hmm, that’s not much time,” the wedding coordinator warned before holding up a hand. “Not that we couldn’t pull it off.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s kind of a...predetermined time frame.”