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Crazy For Love. Victoria DahlЧитать онлайн книгу.

Crazy For Love - Victoria Dahl


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There’s no word on whether the tropical drink in his hand was a nod toward celebration or stress relief. One thing we do know for sure, Thomas wasn’t planning on returning to Virginia. He’d registered at the hotel under the name Simon Bale, and arrest reports confirm that he was found with thousands of dollars in cash. The charges on Monday may reveal more details of his plans to escape the clutches of his crazed bride.

      So where is the spurned Bridezilla? Despite rumors that she’d decided to take her honeymoon without the groom, Daily Net can confirm that Chloe is not at the luxury resort in Hawaii where she was supposed to spend her first two weeks of wedded bliss. “Those reservations were canceled,” says a hotel spokesperson.

      A fellow employee at the accounting firm where Chloe Turner works has confirmed her disappearance and that of her friend, Jenn Castellan. “They’re out of town,” the anonymous source alleged. “Partying. A girls’ week. They were planning to celebrate.” But what could Chloe have to celebrate the week before her fiancé faces such dire consequences? “I heard she got an offer from Playboy,” the coworker revealed. “But I don’t know about that. She’s kind of average.”

      Average or not, Chloe Turner has captivated the nation’s attention. By all accounts, the couple was perfectly normal before the proposal. A video of the engagement party shows a cheerful woman toasting her future husband before draining the whole glass of champagne. But only eight months later, Thomas DeLorn would risk death rather than face the terror of calling off the wedding. What changed for this couple? What secrets have yet to be revealed?

      Stay tuned to Daily Net for daily breaking news on the Bridezilla scandal, the trial, and the search for Chloe Turner.

      CONTENTS

       Cover

       Title Page

       Dedication

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       CHAPTER THIRTEEN

       CHAPTER FOURTEEN

       CHAPTER FIFTEEN

       CHAPTER SIXTEEN

       CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

       CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

       CHAPTER NINETEEN

       CHAPTER TWENTY

       CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

       CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

       CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

       Copyright

      CHLOE TURNER STARED DOWN into the black, roiling water, squinting her eyes against the cool spray. The wind ate into her skin. When the boat dipped into a trough, the water rose up, reaching for her, trying to pull her under. She drew her head back as if she could avoid the swipe of the watery paw. Before she could recover from the fear of that close call, the boat tipped up, climbing toward the crest of another wave. The storm had come out of nowhere. She suspected they were in big trouble.

      A slender hand settled on her shoulder, offering faint comfort.

      “I think we might die out here,” Chloe murmured.

      The hand smacked her arm. Hard. “Oh, for God’s sake, Chloe. It’s a frickin’ ferryboat. Get over yourself.”

      Chloe tossed a glare at her best friend, Jenn. “We’re in the middle of the ocean. In a storm.”

      “First of all, we’re barely out of the bay. Second, there’s a nine-year-old kid a few feet away who’s having the time of his life.”

      The boat rose on another storm-tossed wave, and Chloe’s stomach dropped. When the boy hooted with excitement, she glared in his direction. “Idiot,” she muttered.

      Jenn smacked her again. “If a reporter heard you say that, you’d be screwed.”

      “They can’t find me on a boat. Isn’t that the reason we’re sailing straight into the perfect storm?”

      “Be nice or I’ll call and alert them to your whereabouts.”

      Chloe shrugged and pushed a strand of wet brown hair out of her eyes. “I’ll be tipped off when you put on makeup and turn on the cleavage show.”

      A smile pulled up the corners of her friend’s mouth. “I did look pretty hot last Saturday.”

      Chloe smiled back. “You did. Especially when you put your hand in front of the camera and yelled, ‘She is not an animal!’”

      “Oh, God,” Jenn groaned, using that very same hand to cover her eyes. “I still can’t believe that. It was so chaotic.”

      “The good news is that a nineteenth-century London freak show called to offer me a stall. I get to keep half the coins the public pelts at me.”

      Jenn shook her head, the hood of her windbreaker slipping back to expose her gorgeous blond hair. “You’ll never get tired of that joke, will you?”

      “Never.”


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