Nicola Marsh: A Wedding at Leopard Tree Lodge / Three Times A Bridesmaid…: A Wedding at Leopard Tree Lodge

BUSINESSWOMEN TO BRIDES!

They’re usually the ones attending or planning weddings…Now, they and their gorgeous grooms-to-be are about to take centre stage!

Prepare to be dazzled by exotic destinations and wedding bells in:

A WEDDING AT LEOPARD TREE LODGE

by Liz Fielding

THREE TIMES A BRIDESMAID…

by Nicola Marsh

He got out first, offered her his hand as if she was visiting royalty, and walked her across to a point where there was a clear view of the mighty Zambezi, pouring into the gorge in a dizzying rush.

Everywhere was overgrown with ferns and tropical plants, dripping with moisture in the steamy atmosphere.

‘Will you kiss me, Gideon?’

Would he kiss her?

Did she have any idea what she was asking? Would he kiss her? In a heartbeat.

Should he?

‘Be still,’ he said. Then again as, startled, she looked up at him and he captured her face between his hands, lowered his lips to hers. ‘Be still…’

by

by

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cover Page

Other Books By BUSINESSWOMEN TO BRIDES! They’re usually the ones attending or planning weddings…Now, they and their gorgeous grooms-to-be are about to take centre stage! Prepare to be dazzled by exotic destinations and wedding bells in: A WEDDING AT LEOPARD TREE LODGE by Liz Fielding THREE TIMES A BRIDESMAID… by Nicola Marsh

Excerpt He got out first, offered her his hand as if she was visiting royalty, and walked her across to a point where there was a clear view of the mighty Zambezi, pouring into the gorge in a dizzying rush. Everywhere was overgrown with ferns and tropical plants, dripping with moisture in the steamy atmosphere. ‘Will you kiss me, Gideon?’ Would he kiss her? Did she have any idea what she was asking? Would he kiss her? In a heartbeat. Should he? ‘Be still,’ he said. Then again as, startled, she looked up at him and he captured her face between his hands, lowered his lips to hers. ‘Be still…’

Title Page A Wedding At Leopard Tree Lodge by

A Wedding At Leopard Tree Lodge A Wedding at Leopard Tree Lodge by

About the Author Liz Fielding was born with itchy feet. She made it to Zambia before her twenty-first birthday and, gathering her own special hero and a couple of children on the way, lived in Botswana, Kenya and Bahrain—with pauses for sightseeing pretty much everywhere in between. She finally came to a full stop in a tiny Welsh village cradled by misty hills, and these days mostly leaves her pen to do the travelling. When she’s not sorting out the lives and loves of her characters she potters in the garden, reads her favourite authors, and spends a lot of time wondering ‘What if…?’ For news of upcoming books—and to sign up for her occasional newsletter—visit Liz’s website at www.lizfielding.com

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Three Times A Bridesmaid…

About the Author

Dedication

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

Epilogue

Copyright

by

Liz Fieldingwas born with itchy feet. She made it to Zambia before her twenty-first birthday and, gathering her own special hero and a couple of children on the way, lived in Botswana, Kenya and Bahrain—with pauses for sightseeing pretty much everywhere in between. She finally came to a full stop in a tiny Welsh village cradled by misty hills, and these days mostly leaves her pen to do the travelling. When she’s not sorting out the lives and loves of her characters she potters in the garden, reads her favourite authors, and spends a lot of time wondering ‘What if…?’ For news of upcoming books—and to sign up for her occasional newsletter—visit Liz’s website at www.lizfielding.com

Destination weddings offer up a host of opportunities for a ceremony with a difference…

—The Perfect Wedding by Serafina

March

‘WHERE?’

Josie Fowler wasn’t sure which stunned her most. The location of the wedding which, despite endless media speculation, had been the best kept secret of the year, or the fact that Marji Hayes, editor of Celebrity magazine, was sharing it with her.

‘Botswana,’ Marji repeated, practically whispering, as if afraid that her line might be bugged. If it was, whispering wouldn’t help. ‘I called Sylvie. I had hoped…’ Her voice trailed off.

‘Yes?’ Josie prompted as she used one finger to tap ‘Botswana’ into the search engine of her computer. Silly question. She knew exactly what Marji had hoped. That the aristocratic Sylvie Duchamps Smith would rush to pick up the pieces of the most talked about wedding of the year. Sylvie, however, was too busy enjoying her new baby daughter to pull Marji’s wedding irons out of the fire.

‘I realise that she’s still officially on maternity leave, but I had hoped that for something this big…’

Josie waited, well aware that not even a royal wedding would have tempted Sylvie away from her new husband, her new baby. Trying to contain a frisson of excitement as she realised what this call actually meant.

‘When I called, she explained that she’s made you her partner. That weddings are now solely your responsibility.’ She couldn’t quite keep the disbelief out of her voice.

Marji was not alone in that. There had been an absolute forest of raised eyebrows in the business when Sylvie had employed a girl she’d found working in a hotel scullery as her assistant.

They’d got over it. After all, she was just a gofer. Someone to run around, do the dirty work. And she’d proved herself, become accepted as a capable coordinator, someone who could be relied on, who didn’t flap in a crisis. A couple of bigger events organisers had even tried to tempt her away from Sylvie with more money, a fancy title.

But clearly the idea of her delivering a design from start to finish was going to take some swallowing.

She’d warned Sylvie how it would be and she’d been right. She’d been a partner for three months now and while they had plenty of work to keep them busy, all of it pre-dated her partnership.

‘You’re very young for such responsibility, Josie,’ Marji suggested, with just enough suggestion of laughter to let her know that she wasn’t supposed to take offence. ‘So very…eccentric in your appearance.’

She didn’t deny it. She was twenty-five. Young in years to be a partner in an events company but as old as the hills in other ways. And if her clothes, the purple streaks in her lion’s mane hair, were not conventional, they were as much a part of her image as Sylvie’s classic suits and pearls.

‘Sylvie was nineteen when she launched SDS Events,’ she reminded Marji. Alone, with no money, nowhere to live. All she’d known was how to throw a damn good party.

Despite their very different backgrounds, they’d had that nothingness in common and Sylvie had given her a chance when most people would have taken one look and taken a step back. Two steps if they’d known what Sylvie knew about her.