Nina Harrington - Her Moment in the Spotlight

‘I look forward to reading this author’s next release …

and her next … and her next. It truly is a stunning debut,

with characters that will remain in your thoughts

long after you have closed the book.’

—pinkheartsocietyreviews.blogspot.com on

Always the Bridesmaid

‘Rich with emotion,

and pairing two truly special characters,

this beautiful story is simply unforgettable. A keeper.’

—RT Book Reviews on

Hired: Sassy Assistant

‘A well-constructed plot and a scrumptious,

larger-than-life hero combined with generous amounts

of humour and pathos make for an excellent read.’

—RT Book Reviews on

Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds

NINA HARRINGTONgrew up in rural Northumberland, England, and decided at the age of eleven that she was going to be a librarian—because then she could read all of the books in the public library whenever she wanted! Since then she has been a shop assistant, community pharmacist, technical writer, university lecturer, volcano walker and industrial scientist, before taking a career break to realise her dream of being a fiction writer. When she is not creating stories which make her readers smile, her hobbies are cooking, eating, enjoying good wine—and talking, for which she has had specialist training.

The Last Summer of Being Single

Tipping the Waitress with Diamonds

Hired: Sassy Assistant

Always the Bridesmaid

Did you know these are also available as eBooks?Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

Her Moment in the Spotlight

Nina Harrington

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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MIMI FIORINI RYAN picked up the poster for London Fashion Weekend and scanned down the list of events until she came to a small paragraph of elegant bold script, which encapsulated her entire future in a few short lines and sent her heart racing:

Langdon Events is proud to present an exclusive fashion show in aid of the Tom Harris Foundation for Climbing for the Disabled.

The New Classics collection from Studio Designs will be introduced by their head designer, Mimi Ryan, one of London’s brightest new talents.

Tickets selling fast.

The words were almost swimming in front of her. Mimi had to blink several times to clear her head and come to terms with the fact that she was awake, and that this was not a dream.

‘Well, what do you think? You look a bit stunned.’

Poppy Langdon leant across the desk and bared her teeth. ‘Do you hate it? Because I’m not sure I can change anything with only a week to go.’

Did she hate it—hate the fact that, after ten years of study and working every evening and weekend, she finally had a chance to show her clothing designs to the public? Hate it?

Mimi grinned at the bubbly blonde. She had only known her for a few weeks but she was rapidly becoming a good friend whom Mimi felt able to trust with something as important as the organisation of her dream fashion show.

‘No—I don’t hate it. It’s just that …’

‘Go on. I can take it,’ Poppy whimpered. ‘Tell me now and get it out of your system.’

Mimi coughed a reply and shook her head for a second before coming round to the other side of the desk and hugging Poppy warmly before grinning down at her.

‘It’s just that I have been working towards this day for a very long time. It means so much to me, I can’t tell you. Thank you so much for giving me a chance. I don’t hate it at all—I love it.’

Poppy breathed out a sigh of relief and hugged her back.

‘You are welcome—but I should be the one who is thanking you! If you hadn’t stepped in last month I wouldn’t have a charity fashion show at all. You are going to be a total hit! I predict it now. We have already sold loads of tickets, so you can stop worrying and start enjoying yourself.’

Poppy grinned and crinkled her nose. ‘Even if we are in the middle of a heat wave,’ she added, flicking her long hair away from her neck. ‘Why is it so hot in June? And how do you manage to always look so cool and elegant in black?’

Mimi took a breath and tried to answer Poppy without betraying the inner turmoil.

If only Poppy knew how very hard Mimi had worked to look so cool and elegant. It was all about looking the part on the outside. From the black trouser-suit that had taken her a week to tailor down to her simple mocha-silk tee and antique gold wrist-watch she had inherited from her mother. Every breath Mimi Fiorini Ryan took was totally focused on one thing: persuading Poppy Langdon that she had made the right decision to use Mimi’s first clothing collection as part of her charity fashion show.

‘Me?’ Mimi replied, glancing down at her wide-leg trousers and loose top. ‘Natural fibres, I suppose—and I am indoors most of the time.’ She paused then tilted her head. ‘How is the iced coffee?’

‘Divine!’ Poppy replied with a warm smile, fanning herself with a brochure and shrugging up her shoulders in delight. ‘I had no idea there was an Italian bistro just around the corner. You are so resourceful!’

‘Not really. My parents and I used to come to this part of London a lot when I was at college. I’m just pleased that the bistro is still here and the coffee is as good as ever.’

Poppy saluted her with the cup. ‘Nectar. Seeing as you are a total life-saver, I do have one final treat for you.’ She took one last long slurp then started sorting through the stacks of folders on her desk. ‘The hotel has come back to me with a few ideas for the catwalk part of the show. I know you want elegant and sophisticated, and the hotel ballroom is just perfect, but we do need to confirm how much space we need before they start renovation work on the rest of the hotel. Can you stay a little longer?’

Mimi could only chuckle at that question.

She would happily stay here for the rest of the week if Poppy would put up with her.

‘Of course. But here’s an idea—why don’t I pop out for refills on the coffee? I’ll be right back …’

If there had been an Academy award for ‘leading man in your own drama’, then Hal Langdon would have been determined to head the list of nominees.

Hal swung himself out of the London black cab with the help of the hand rail, his one crutch and a special sideways slide-and-stand motion which had taken him weeks to perfect in the numerous ambulance trips between his chalet in the French Alps and the local hospital.

Pain shot through his left leg as soon as he shifted his weight from the crutch onto the ankle wrapped in an inflatable boot. The thrill of finally being free of the heavy plaster-cast which had protected what was left of his smashed ankle and broken leg had soon faded when he’d realised just how far he still had to go before he could walk on his own.