Sophie Pembroke - Heiress on the Run

Dominic took a deep breath and made his play. ‘How would you feel about making the boss thing a more permanent arrangement?’

She wanted to say yes. It was a fantastic offer—something that would really let her build up her life as Faith Fowler. But how could she do it in the shadow of her family name? How could she risk living in London again, knowing that any moment the paparazzi could find her and thrust her back into the limelight?

Dominic gave her an encouraging smile and she tried to return it.

Would it really be so bad even if they did find her? She was a grown woman. And with a stable job with Dominic she’d never be reliant on her family for money or anything else again. This could be her chance at true independence.

Until Dominic found out the truth. There was no way he’d hang on to an employee who brought the paparazzi down on him for harbouring a missing heiress. And once they’d found her all the stories would start up again, the pictures of her leaving that damn hotel room would be back in circulation, and the rumours about her relationship with a married, drug addict rock star … No. Dominic wouldn’t stand for any of that. Even if she could make him believe that the papers had it all wrong.

She couldn’t stay. There was no place for her in Dominic’s world any more—if there ever really had been. Getting close to Dominic … It was a mistake. One she was very afraid she might have already made. But there had to be a line, a point she couldn’t cross. She couldn’t fall in love. And so she couldn’t risk staying.

Heiress on the Run

Sophie Pembroke

www.millsandboon.co.uk

SOPHIE PEMBROKEhas been dreaming, reading and writing romance for years—ever since she first read The Far Pavilions under her desk in Chemistry class. She later stayed up all night devouring Mills & Boon ®books as part of her English degree at Lancaster University, and promptly gave up any pretext of enjoying tragic novels. After all, what’s the point of a book without a happy ending?

She loves to set her novels in the places where she has lived—from the wilds of the Welsh mountains to the genteel humour of an English country village, or the heat and tension of a London summer. She also has a tendency to make her characters kiss in castles.

Currently Sophie makes her home in Hertfordshire, with her scientist husband (who still shakes his head at the reading-in-Chemistry thing) and their four-year-old Alice-in-Wonderland -obsessed daughter. She writes her love stories in the study she begrudgingly shares with her husband, while drinking too much tea and eating homemade cakes. Or, when things are looking very bad for her heroes and heroines, white wine and dark chocolate.

Sophie keeps a blog at www.SophiePembroke.com, which should be about romance and writing but is usually about cake and castles instead.

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For Mum & Dad for always believing I could

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

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

EXCERPT

CHAPTER ONE

‘I DON’T UNDERSTAND,’ Faith said, fingers gripping the fabric of her uniform too tightly. The body-hugging grey pencil skirt didn’t have a lot of give, but she needed something solid and real in her hands. Something that definitely existed. Unlike the plane that was supposed to be taking her and her latest tour group back to London. ‘How can there not be a plane?’

The airport official had the air of a man who’d had this conversation far more times than he’d like today, and in more languages than he was really comfortable with. It was in no way reassuring. ‘There is no plane, signorina, because there is no company any longer. It’s been declared bankrupt. All customers of the Roman Holiday Tour Company are being asked to contact their insurance companies and—’

‘But I’m not a customer!’ Faith interrupted, her patience exhausted. She’d been in the airport for three hours now, and she really needed a cup of coffee. Or an explanation for what the hell had happened to trash her immediate future overnight. ‘I’m an employee. I’m the tour guide.’

The official’s gaze turned pitying. Faith guessed that meant she wasn’t likely to get paid this month. Or ever. Great. Just when her bank account could really have done with the help. ‘Then I suggest you call your employer. If you are able to find him.’

Oh, that really didn’t sound good.

Turning away, Faith gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile in the direction of the huddle of tourists waiting for her to report back on their journey home. Holding up her index finger in the universal ‘just one minute’ gesture, she fished in her capacious bag for her phone. Time to find out what the hell was going on.

‘Marco?’ she asked, the moment the phone stopped ringing. ‘What the hell—’

There was a click on the other end of the line. Thank you for calling the Roman Holiday Tour Company! There is no one available to take your call right now...

Her own voice on the voicemail message.

Faith hung up.

Around her, Leonardo da Vinci Airport buzzed with life. The sounds of crackly announcements and suitcase wheels on smooth flooring. The chatter of excited holiday-goers. The smell of fast food and strong coffee. The twelve British tourists standing around their suitcases, looking at her hopefully.

Faith took a deep breath, and approached. ‘Okay, guys, here’s the situation. I’ll be honest, it’s not great, but I’m still here and I will help you sort everything out, okay?’ Maybe she wasn’t getting paid any more, and maybe her boss had disappeared off the face of the earth, but she’d spent the last two weeks showing these people the sights and sounds of Italy. They trusted her. She owed it to them to at least make sure they got home safely. Maybe, that way, their memories of this holiday wouldn’t just be of a total disaster.

No one actually relaxed at her words, but at least they looked slightly less terrified, which Faith figured was the best she could hope for, given the circumstances. Now for the hard bit.

‘So, let’s start at the top. Does everybody have travel insurance?’

It took a full two and a half hours, four cups of coffee, twenty phone calls, and plenty of sweet-talking, but eventually Faith had everyone either rebooked on other flights or safely ensconced in a hotel room until their insurance could organise their return home.

Everyone, that was, except for her.

Dropping down to sit on one of the airport benches, ignoring the guy asleep with his head on his backpack next to her, Faith pulled out her phone and tried Marco’s number again.

Thank you for calling the Roman Holiday Tour Company! There is no one available to take your call right now...

She jabbed the end call button, dropped her phone into her lap, and closed her eyes. Okay, so, time to review the situation. Where was she?