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Back The Runaway Heiress Save as PDF
Chapters (75)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR MEG TILLY AND HER NOVELS
  3. TITLES BY MEG TILLY
  4. Dedication
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. 35
  41. 36
  42. 37
  43. 38
  44. 39
  45. 40
  46. 41
  47. 42
  48. 43
  49. 44
  50. 45
  51. 46
  52. 47
  53. 48
  54. 49
  55. 50
  56. 51
  57. 52
  58. 53
  59. 54
  60. 55
  61. 56
  62. 57
  63. 58
  64. 59
  65. 60
  66. 61
  67. 62
  68. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  69. Excerpt from SOLACE ISLAND
  70. 1
  71. 2
  72. 3
  73. 4
  74. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  75. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Don’t forget, a Mercedes-Benz S-Class, cashmere white. See you soon!” The line went dead. Sarah stood there for a moment with her eyes squeezed shut, the phone still gripped to her ear. This is going to be a hellish conversation—she exhaled heavily, opened her eyes, and replaced the receiver—but you will get through it. And so will he. Life goes on. A resigned Sarah returned to the living room, scribbled a note for Mick, and placed it in the center of the coffee table. “Dammit,” she said, but there was no heat in her words, as she grabbed her purse, a room key, and the bag of M&M’s. It wasn’t poor Phillip’s fault that she was injured. Wasn’t his fault that she was now faced with the unpleasant task of informing him that the love of his life was dead. As Sarah passed by the minibar, she thought, What the hell, and snagged the overpriced mason jar of gummy bears and stuffed them into her purse. Took a couple of steps, then returned to the minibar for the jar of roasted cashews in case she needed something salty to wash down all the sweet. Wash down. Hmm . . . It was overkill, but she returned to the side table and plopped the can of Coke in her purse as well. However, even the extra treats in her purse didn’t tamp down her reluctance for the unpleasant task that awaited her. She sighed again, then straightened her shoulders and exited the room, her overstuffed purse clanking heavily against her thigh.

51

When Sarah had returned to the hotel, it was in the bright sunshine, but by the time she stepped through the lobby doors, it was clear that the wind had picked up, bringing with it a drop in the temperature. Sarah hesitated for a second, wondering if she should return to the room for a coat. The wind had whipped a white plastic bag into the air. When gravity brought it to the earth, the bag began rolling, helter-skelter, an urban tumbleweed. The doorman returning from depositing a couple into a Lincoln Town Car had his head tucked down and was at a slight tilt from leaning into the wind.

“Can I get you a cab, miss?” the doorman asked, his head tipped inquiringly.