Amy Ruttan - It Happened In Vegas

Thank you for picking up a copy of It Happened in Vegas.

I love writing about brothers—probably because I’m surrounded by them. My mother had three brothers, my dad was the youngest of eight, and there was only one sister right in the middle. I have a younger brother, and my own daughter has two younger brothers.

Brothers—I know them well. I know that the love they share, though not always evident to strangers, is there.

My hero Nick feels he’s wronged his brother Marc, and for that he punishes himself—until both brothers learn to reach out and heal each other. Of course this is done with the help of a good woman by their sides.

Why did I set this story in Vegas? Simply because I love the desert and badlands—there’s just something about the wide open spaces, the arid foothills and the landscape which seems so harsh. Nevada is a state that is on top of my bucket list. I hope I get to visit one day.

I hope you enjoy It Happened in Vegas.

I love hearing from readers, so please drop by my website, amyruttan.com, or give me a shout on Twitter@ruttanamy.

With warmest wishes

Amy Ruttan

Born and raised on the outskirts of Toronto, Ontario, AMY RUTTANfled the big city to settle down with the country boy of her dreams. When she’s not furiously typing away at her computer she’s mom to three wonderful children, who have given her another job as a taxi driver.

A voracious reader, she was given her first romance novel by her grandmother, who shared her penchant for a hot romance. From that moment Amy was hooked by the magical worlds, handsome heroes and sigh-worthy romances contained in the pages, and she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up.

Life got in the way, but after the birth of her second child she decided to pursue her dream of becoming a romance author.

Amy loves to hear from readers. It makes her day, in fact. You can find out more about Amy at her website: amyruttan.com

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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This book is dedicated to all the brothers in my life

and my plethora of uncles, in particular two who are no

longer with us: Uncle Jim and Uncle Wavell.

And most especially to my brother Mike.

Sorry for duct taping you to the wall periodically

when we were younger.

Cover

Dear Reader

About the Author Born and raised on the outskirts of Toronto, Ontario, AMY RUTTAN fled the big city to settle down with the country boy of her dreams. When she’s not furiously typing away at her computer she’s mom to three wonderful children, who have given her another job as a taxi driver. A voracious reader, she was given her first romance novel by her grandmother, who shared her penchant for a hot romance. From that moment Amy was hooked by the magical worlds, handsome heroes and sigh-worthy romances contained in the pages, and she knew what she wanted to be when she grew up. Life got in the way, but after the birth of her second child she decided to pursue her dream of becoming a romance author. Amy loves to hear from readers. It makes her day, in fact. You can find out more about Amy at her website: amyruttan.com

Title Page It Happened in Vegas Amy Ruttan www.millsandboon.co.uk

Dedication This book is dedicated to all the brothers in my life and my plethora of uncles, in particular two who are no longer with us: Uncle Jim and Uncle Wavell. And most especially to my brother Mike. Sorry for duct taping you to the wall periodically when we were younger.

PROLOGUE

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

EPILOGUE

Copyright

ANOTHER DINNER PARTY.

Jennifer plastered on another fake smile as she walked around the crowded reception hall in the Nevada State Capitol.

It’s for a good cause. It’s for a good cause.

And it was. She had nothing against a bill for soldier benefits. She just hated dinner parties like this, endless campaigns, looking good for the press. She knew her father; this wasn’t just for the men and women who served their country. This was just because the elections were coming up in a few years and he was eyeing the White House.

It had nothing to do with soldiers.

Not a thing. It was all an image, another empty promise. She really hated politics. It brought out the worst in her father, a man she fondly remembered as being so different.

He hadn’t always been this way. She remembered a different father, a loving, caring and real man. It was this political side of him she wasn’t thrilled with.

Jennifer picked up a flute of champagne and tried to avoid the flash of cameras as reporters flocked around her father. Her perfect sister stood with her parents, smiling and chatting with the press, eating up the attention. The attention brought to her family made her nervous because she hadn’t had the best relationship with them since her father had got into the political arena over a decade ago.

She was, after all, the black sheep, which meant the press were constantly dogging her heels. They’d backed off somewhat since she’d become a doctor. A doctor wasn’t juicy enough for the paparazzi. Well, it was thrilling enough for her.

She’d rather be in the OR tonight, saving lives, but instead she was here and pretending to be part of the “perfect” family that her father wanted the world to believe they had.

Ha.

No family was perfect, but her father was ashamed of his roots. How he didn’t come from a wealthy heritage.

He didn’t want anyone to know that he was the illegitimate son of a congressman and an intern. That he’d worked with his hands to better their lives.

Her father only wanted his voters to see how he’d risen like a phoenix from the ashes.

Everything else burned away.

Jennifer swigged back the expensive champagne and then took another one, ignoring the waiter’s eyebrow rising as she set her second empty flute back on the tray.

The waiter left before she could take a third.

It was probably for the best, but Jennifer just shook her head and meandered to a safe, dark corner where she could go unnoticed by everyone.