Kitabı oku: «A Ring For Christmas: A Bride by Christmas / Christmas Lullaby / Mistletoe Manoeuvres»

Will a kiss under the mistletoe end in a happy-ever-after?

A Ring for Christmas

Three exhilarating Christmas romances from three beloved Mills & Boon authors!

A Ring for Christmas
Joan Elliott Pickart
Cathy Gillen Thacker
Margaret Allison

www.millsandboon.co.uk

A Bride by Christmas

BY

Joan Elliott Pickart

About the Author

JOAN ELLIOTT PICKART is the author of over eighty novels. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys watching football, knitting, reading, gardening and attending craft shows on the town square. Joan has three all-grown-up daughters and a fantastic little grandson.

In September of 1995 Joan travelled to China to adopt her fourth daughter, Autumn. Joan and Autumn have settled into their cosy cottage in a charming small town in the high pine country of Arizona.

For all the lovely ladies at Willow Wind

Chapter One

Luke St. John walked slowly up the wide steps leading to the porch, and the carved wooden doors of the large Episcopal church. He stopped at the doors, marveling at their intricate craftsmanship.

It really was a majestic structure, he thought, and he could understand why his brother and Ginger had chosen to be married here tomorrow. The event had been many months in the planning, and Robert had confided that Ginger had changed her mind about colors and endless other details so many times the wedding coordinator must be ready to strangle his bride-to-be.

Luke smiled as he opened one of the doors and entered the vestibule.

Ginger Barrington, he mused, was an endearing yet rather ditzy young woman who had been given a blank check by her father to have the wedding of her dreams. The last he’d heard, Ginger had chosen seven bridesmaids for the don’t-worry-about-the-cost event.

Whatever. The people in the Barrington-St. John social circle were accustomed to these kinds of extravaganzas. What was important was that Ginger and Robert were deeply in love—and they were, they really were.

Strange, Luke thought. He’d actually felt a twinge of envy on more than one occasion as he’d watched the relationship between Robert and Ginger develop. He’d been startled each time he’d registered that green-around-the-edges feeling. He dated independent career women and that suited him just fine. But then again…

Luke shook his head to halt his jumbled thoughts and glanced at his watch.

He was early for the rehearsal, he knew, but a business meeting on this side of town had ended sooner than expected. There wasn’t time to go home, nor any point in returning to the office, so he’d come here with the idea of sitting in the quiet church and relaxing until the others arrived.

Luke crossed the vestibule, entered the large sanctuary, then walked down the aisle past about a dozen pews to finally settle onto one. He swept his gaze over the high ceiling and exquisite stained-glass windows, nodding again in approval.

His attention was caught by a side door opening close to the altar. A woman entered carrying a cardboard box. His gaze was riveted on her as she crossed to the center aisle and placed the box on the first pew, immediately removing a large yellow satin bow.

Luke felt a sudden pain in his chest and drew a sharp breath as he realized he hadn’t breathed since the woman had appeared. He leaned forward, resting his arms on the rail in front of him, and drank in the sight of her, missing no detail.

She was so beautiful, Luke thought rather hazily. No, that wasn’t the word he wanted. Beautiful was what the career women he dated strove for, which resulted in cookie-cutter perfection in clothes, hair and makeup that varied little from one to the next.

No, this woman, who was now attaching the satin bow to the side of the first pew was…pretty. Yes, that was the word. Pretty in a wholesome, breath-of-fresh-air way that was knocking him for a loop. She was sunshine on a cloudy day, real, what-you-see-is-what-you-get real, and he’d bet ten bucks she wasn’t wearing any makeup at all.

Her strawberry-blond hair tumbled to her shoulders in what he was convinced were natural curls, and even from this distance he could see that her eyes were big and brown. Fawn eyes. Pretty, pretty eyes. She was wearing a simple pale pink sundress that suited her to perfection.

Whew, Luke thought. He’d felt it, a funny little hitch in the much-needed breath he’d taken and the increased tempo of his heart. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Nothing. This woman had definitely made a strange and totally unfamiliar impact on him.

Luke continued to watch as the woman attached a mint-green bow to the second pew, then matching ones on the other side of the aisle, making it subtly clear that those four rows were reserved for the families of the bride and groom.

She might, he guessed, be the wedding coordinator whom Ginger had driven to the brink of insanity. She appeared very young for such a lofty title, was maybe twenty-four or twenty-five. So, okay, at thirty-two he wasn’t too old for her. Good. That was good.

But…a wedding coordinator? Why did a person decide to become one of those? Because their own wedding had been so wonderful they wanted to share the bliss of an error-free event with others? No. No way. She was not married. That was not acceptable. She was a wedding coordinator because she was a romantic, old-fashioned woman who adored weddings and was very good at taking care of a zillion details at the same time. Yes. That was much better.

He had to meet this woman, Luke thought with a sense of urgency. He had to hear her voice, look deep into those incredible brown eyes of hers. He had to connect with her before she disappeared from his life as quickly as she’d appeared. He had to…Man, he had to get a grip. He didn’t know what was happening to him, but it was a tad scary, that was for sure.

The sound of voices on the porch reached Luke and he got to his feet and stepped into the aisle just as the woman turned toward him. She gasped in shock that he was standing there and took a step backward.

“I’m sorry,” he said, walking forward. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I arrived early and I was just sitting here quietly and…” He stopped in front of her, gazed into her eyes and totally forgot what he was going to say.

“I…” the woman said, still looking directly into his eyes. “I’m…” Whoever I am. Heavens, those eyes, those eyes were dark, fathomless pools that a woman could just drown in and not even struggle to escape. And that voice. So masculine and rumbly and yet…it seemed to stroke her like soft, sensuous velvet, causing her skin to tingle and…

He was tall, had wide shoulders, long legs, roughhewn features and thick, glorious black hair. He looked like someone straight out of central casting.

“You’re…who?” Luke said, leaning slightly toward her.

“Who what?” she said, then blinked. “Oh! Yes, of course. I’m Maggie Jenkins, the wedding coordinator. I own Roses and Wishes, which is gaining a fine reputation for coordinating weddings, because that’s what I do. I…coordinate…weddings. I’m also babbling, so forget all that. I’m a tad exhausted at the moment, you see. And you are?”

Enchanted, Luke thought, smiling. Maggie Jenkins. Maggie. He liked her name. It suited her, it really did. Oh, yes, hello, Maggie Jenkins, who was not wearing a wedding ring, thank goodness.

“Luke St. John,” he said. “The brother of the nervous groom and the best man for this gala event.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Maggie said, tearing her gaze from Luke’s. “I believe the others have arrived. I’d better go greet everyone and get this rehearsal going so we stay on schedule, because dinner’s booked at the restaurant afterward. Excuse me.”

Luke turned to watch her hurry down the aisle as the large group of people appeared. He didn’t move to join the others. Not yet. He just stood there drinking in the sight of Maggie.

Maggie stifled a yawn of fatigue as she plastered a plastic smile on her tired face and stopped in front of the chattering wedding party.

Was that heat she felt on her back? she thought suddenly. Was Luke St. John staring at her with those…those eyes? Maggie, stop it. She had made a complete idiot of herself with Luke, had overreacted to his masculine magnetism only because she was so tired she couldn’t think straight. Once rested, she would view Luke St. John as a very handsome man but big macho deal.

“Hello, everyone,” Maggie said brightly.

“Oh, Maggie,” Ginger said, beaming, “isn’t this exciting? Tomorrow is the big day. I can hardly believe it’s finally here.”

You’re not the only one, Maggie thought, smiling and nodding at the petite blonde who boasted a golden tan and was wearing a royal-blue raw silk jumpsuit.

“Did I check with you to see if you’d found someone to supply only pale yellow and mint-green yogurt-covered almonds for the nut cups at the reception?” Ginger said, frowning.

“Yes, you did,” Maggie said. “And, yes, I did. Well, sort of. I had to order extra nuts, then pick out the two colors we needed.” Which took until after two o’clock this morning. “I was going to ask you what you wanted me to do with the almonds we didn’t use.”

“Whatever,” Ginger said, waving one hand in the air. “Where’s my sweetie? Oh, Robert, there you are, honey. Do you realize we’ll soon be winging our way to Greece? We’ll have a whole month to—What’s wrong? You don’t look like a happy groom.”

The handsome young man in his midtwenties, who was wearing slacks and a dress shirt open at the neck, slid one arm across Ginger’s shoulders.

“My brother isn’t here yet,” he said. “We can’t have a rehearsal without the best man.”

“I’m right here,” Luke said, striding toward the group.

“I’m going to go tell Reverend Mason we’re ready to begin the rehearsal,” Maggie said quickly. “He’s in his office and told me to come get him when we were all set.”

“Maggie, hon, wait a sec,” an attractive young woman said. “I’ve lost two pounds since the final fitting of my bridesmaid dress. Do you think it could be nipped in a bit before the ceremony tomorrow night?”

Over my dead body, Maggie thought. Don’t even think about it…hon.

“That won’t be necessary…Tiffy, isn’t it?” Maggie said, her voice dripping with sweetness. “That’s the beauty of that style of gown. There’s room for a fluctuation of a few pounds here and there. I promise that you have nothing to worry about.”

Nicely done, Luke thought, swallowing a burst of laughter. Maggie had handled the spoiled and pampered Tiffy like a pro. She was really something, this Maggie Jenkins.

“Look on the bright side, Tiffy,” one of the other bridesmaids said. “You can eat your little heart out at the wedding reception—and at the rehearsal dinner tonight, for that matter. You know Ginger and Mrs. Barrington picked goodies to die for. Eat and enjoy.”

“Well, there is that, Melissa Ann,” Tiffy said thoughtfully, then wandered away.

Bless you, Melissa Ann, Maggie thought wearily.

“And don’t forget all those delicious green and yellow yogurt-covered almonds,” Luke said, finally indulging in a chuckle. He paused. “Maggie, did you really have to sort through tons of those things to get the two colors?”

“No detail is too small for Roses and Wishes,” Maggie said, not looking in Luke’s direction.

As Maggie rushed away to get the priest, Luke turned to watch her go, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Luke?” Robert said.

“Hmm?” he said, still staring after Maggie.

“What’s the matter with you?” Robert said. “You’re standing here with your back to everyone. Could you be a little more sociable, for Pete’s sake?”

Luke snapped his head around to look at his brother. “Yes, certainly. Sorry.” He paused. “I must say, Robert, that I’m impressed with the job Maggie Jenkins has done for you and Ginger. Maggie is quite young to have her own business. It’s interesting, too, that she’s a wedding coordinator who isn’t married.” Didn’t hurt to double-check on that. “Don’t you think? You know, someone who didn’t have a fabulous wedding of their own?”

Robert shrugged.

“I asked Maggie about that,” Ginger said, joining the brothers and slipping her arm through Robert’s. “She pointed out that not all pediatricians have children. Maggie loves the challenge of planning a perfect wedding down to the smallest detail. She just doesn’t want one of her own. She told me that. She never intends to get married.”

Luke frowned. “Why not?”

“Well, gracious, Luke,” Ginger said, wrinkling her nose, “it wouldn’t have been polite to ask that. I swear, men should be required to take the same social-graces classes that all of us women do.” She shifted her attention to Robert. “Sweetie, what if people don’t like yo-gurt-covered almonds? Do you think I should ask Maggie to change what’s in the nut cups before tomorrow night?”

“No,” Luke said quickly. “Did you notice the shadows under Maggie’s eyes, Ginger? She’s obviously exhausted, and I’m sure you learned in your social-graces classes that you should be aware of the needs of those around you.

“Besides, I’ve attended more gala events than you due to the simple fact that I’m older than you are. I assure you that my vast experience has shown me that most people are very fond of yogurt-covered almonds.”

“Really?” Ginger said, beaming.

“Guaranteed,” Luke said. “So don’t even entertain the idea of asking Maggie to stay up all night redoing the nut cups.”

“Well, if you say so, Luke,” Ginger said. “I won’t…Oh, there’s Maggie with Reverend Mason. I’d best go say hi.”

Ginger hustled up the aisle and Robert stared at his older brother.

“You’re suddenly an expert on the popularity of almonds?” Robert said incredulously. “Where did that come from? And you’re aware that Maggie is exhausted? What did she do? Say, ‘Hi, I’m Maggie and I’m wiped out’?”

“I’m an attorney, Robert,” Luke said. “A good lawyer learns to observe people for subtle little nuances that can be extremely important in the outcome of a given case.”

“That is such a bunch of crock,” Robert said with a hoot of laughter.

“Yeah, well…” Luke frowned. “Forget it.”

“You sure sound—what word do I want?—protective. Yes, that’s it, protective of Ms. Maggie, big brother. What gives?”

“Nothing ‘gives.’ Look, just concentrate on marrying Ginger.” Luke paused. “You know, Robert, I’m rather…envious of what you and Ginger have together. I’ve watched you two over the past months, seen you fall deeply in love, make plans for a future together. It’s good and I’m really happy for you both. Yep, I admit I’m a little bit jealous.”

“You? Envious of me?” Robert said, splaying one hand on his chest. “I find that a tad hard to believe. You have women beating down your door. You’ve always gone for the type who just wants to have fun but not settle down. There are seven bridesmaids over there who fit that bill. Just take your pick.”

Luke watched Maggie approach with the priest and Ginger.

“Things change,” he said quietly.

Reverend Mason greeted everyone and explained that they would walk through the basics of the wedding ceremony so everything would go smoothly the next evening.

“Right,” he said finally. “Ginger, if you’ll stand at the back of the church with your father and be ready to come down the aisle after your bridesmaids and…”

“Oh, no,” Ginger said, shaking her head. “No, no, no, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Robert said frantically. “You’re not changing your mind about marrying me, are you?”

“Don’t be silly, sweetie,” Ginger said, kissing him on the cheek. “But you know how it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride on their wedding day before the ceremony? Well, it’s also bad luck for the bride and groom to act out those roles at the rehearsal. Didn’t you know that?”

“Can’t say that I did,” Robert said, drawing a deep breath of relief. “So now what?”

“You and I will sit and watch very carefully,” Ginger continued, “so we’ll know what we’re to do tomorrow night.”

“Watch who?” Robert said. “We’re the bride and groom, remember?”

“We use stand-ins for the rehearsal, silly,” Ginger said. “Let’s see. Okay. Your father will be the best man and pretend he has the ring, and Luke will be the groom. And…” She glanced around. “Yes, of course. Maggie, you’ll be the bride.”

“Got it,” Luke said.

“I don’t think that’s a great idea,” Maggie said, feeling the color drain from her face. “No. Bad plan. Bad, bad. I need to…Yes, I need to stay at the back of the church and control the spacing of the bridesmaids starting down the aisle.”

“What is the spacing?” Luke said pleasantly.

“Three pews apart, but…”

“Have you got that, ladies?” Luke said, looking at Ginger’s girlfriends.

Seven heads bobbed up and down.

“Done,” Luke said. “That leaves you free to be way behind them with Ginger’s dad ready to be…the bride, Maggie. And I’ll be the groom.”

“Excellent,” Reverend Mason said. “Let’s take our places, please. The groomsmen need to be up front with our stand-in best man and groom. Mothers, take your places, please. Ginger and Robert, sit where you can observe and hear me clearly.”

“But—” Maggie pointed one finger in the air.

“See you soon, future wife,” Luke said, smiling at Maggie.

“But—”

“Come along…Ginger,” Mr. Barrington said, chuckling as he tucked Maggie’s hand in the crook of his arm. “This reminds me of a baseball game. Instead of a designated hitter, you’re the designated bride.”

She didn’t want to be a bride, Maggie thought miserably as Ginger’s father led her to the back of the church. Well, she did, but it would never happen. She wouldn’t allow it to happen because…No, she was not a bride. Not a real one or a pretend one or a designated one. Not a bride. Not now, not ever.

And to make matters even worse, the stand-in groom was Luke St. John, a man who had made her forget her own name. Good grief, she wanted to go home. Right now.

Everyone except Maggie was chattering and laughing as they took their places, then silence fell as Reverend Mason raised one hand for quiet. He stood at the front of the church with Luke next to him, then the other men in a straight row alongside.

“The organ music you picked for the procession has now begun,” the priest said, smiling. “Pretend you hear it. We’re ready for the bridesmaids to come forward. What was it? Oh, yes, three pews apart, my dears.”

As Tiffy started off, Ginger’s father bent down to whisper to Maggie.

“I hope Ginger looks happier tomorrow night than you do at the moment,” he said. “I think this is rather fun, don’t you, Maggie?”

“That’s not quite the word I would pick, sir,” she said, attempting and failing to produce a smile.

“But your groom is Luke St. John,” Mr. Barrington said. “He’s considered quite a catch in this town. You have to get into your role and realize you’re the envy of a multitude of women in Phoenix. Will that thought make you smile?”

“Not really,” Maggie said gloomily.

“Well, fake it. My daughter is so superstitious about all this nonsense that she’ll probably pitch a fit if you look like you’re about to have a root canal. You can be Ginger marrying Robert or Maggie marrying Luke. Take your pick, but remember this is a wedding, not a funeral. Smile.”

Maggie nodded jerkily and plastered such a wide smile on her face that her cheeks hurt.

“Now you look like someone just stepped on your foot,” Mr. Barrington said.

“Don’t get picky,” Maggie said, glaring at him while keeping her plastic smile in place. “This is the best I can do.”

“For a wedding coordinator,” Mr. Barrington said, “you have a strange attitude about being a bride. Fascinating.”

No, try terrifying, Maggie thought. Try never going to happen. Try…she wanted to go home.

“Now the actual wedding march begins,” Reverend Mason said in the distance. “Give the congregation time to rise and turn in your direction and…now…here comes the lovely bride.”

Chapter Two

He could hear the wedding march, Luke thought. He could. A part of him knew that was impossible, yet it was there quite clearly, the wondrous music filling the church to overflowing.

And in the distance, walking in measured steps on the arm of Ginger’s father, was Maggie, his bride. His. She was lovely, just exquisite. His heart was thundering at the mere sight of her as she came closer and closer and…

Maggie and Mr. Barrington stopped in front of the priest.

“I will ask at this point,” Reverend Mason said, “who gives this woman in marriage. And you, Mr. Barrington, will reply ‘Her mother and I,’ then you’ll take your daughter’s hand and place it in Robert’s.”

“Her mother and I,” Mr. Barrington boomed, then grasped Maggie’s hand.

Without realizing he had moved, Luke stepped forward and extended his hand to receive Maggie’s. As Mr. Barrington placed Maggie’s hand in Luke’s, their eyes met and time stopped.

Dear heaven, Maggie thought, unable to tear her gaze from the mesmerizing depths of Luke’s eyes. Luke’s hand was so strong yet so gentle as it wrapped around hers. And the heat. Good grief, the heat from his hand was traveling up her arm, across her breasts, then swirling and churning throughout her, causing a flush she could feel staining her cheeks.

She had to get her hand back. And she would. In a minute.

And she had to quit, just stop, looking into Luke’s eyes. And she would. In a minute.

“We are gathered here,” Reverend Mason said, “to unite this man and this woman in holy matrimony.”

Yes, Luke thought, that was exactly why they were there. This man, him, and this woman, Maggie, were about to be united in holy matrimony, become husband and wife until death parted them.

He had never in his entire life felt like this. He was consumed with a soothing warmth of peace that was somehow combined with the coiling heat of desire. The chill within him that he now knew had been loneliness was gone, pushed into oblivion, never to return because Maggie was here. He’d waited an eternity for this, for her, to find his soul mate, and she was here at long last. Maggie.

Oh, man, this was nuts, he thought, unable to stop a smile from forming on his lips. He was an attorney who dealt in facts, absolutes, things being either black or white, proven data, and…Yet he had suddenly been flung—there was no other word for it—flung helterskelter into a strange new world that embraced the romantic notion of love at first sight.

Oh, yeah, this was crazy. And wonderful. And hard to believe, but he did believe it with his entire being—heart, mind, body and soul.

Maggie Jenkins had come, she had seen, she had conquered. By doing nothing more than being, she had stolen his heart for all time, and he didn’t want it back. Not ever. He loved her. It was as simple and as complicated as that. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. It couldn’t, shouldn’t, be true, but yet it was.

He was in forever love with Maggie.

“After you have lit the single candle from the ones that will be burning next to it,” Reverend Mason was saying, “blow out the others and place them back in the holders. The single burning candle will represent your union, becoming one entity.”

Yes, Luke thought firmly.

Yes, Maggie thought dreamily. Wasn’t that just the sweetest thing?

Reverend Mason’s word became a buzz, like a multitude of bees in the background, as Maggie and Luke continued to look directly into each other’s eyes. Then suddenly what the priest said was loud and clear.

“You may kiss the bride.”

Luke framed Maggie’s face in his hands, looked at her intently for a long, heart-stopping moment, then slowly, so slowly, lowered his head and captured her lips in a kiss that was so tender, so reverent, so…theirs, that tears filled Maggie’s eyes. She savored the taste, the feel, the very essence of Luke, yearning for the kiss to never end.

Reverend Mason cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s fine. Thank you, Luke, Maggie, for playing out your roles so convincingly.”

Luke raised his head and both he and Maggie stared at the priest as though they had never seen him before in their lives.

“I, um…” Reverend Mason continued, “I will then introduce Mr. and Mrs. Robert St. John to the congregation, the organ music will burst forth and the recessional will take place. Any questions?”

Ginger jumped to her feet. “No, no questions. It’s going to be so beautiful. I can hardly wait until tomorrow night. Thank you so much, Reverend Mason. We’re off to the restaurant now for the rehearsal dinner. I do hope you and your wife will join us as planned.”

“We’d be delighted,” he said, sliding one more glance at Luke and Maggie, who were still staring at him with rather stunned expressions on their faces.

Maggie shook her head slightly to escape from the eerie spell that seemed to have transported her to a faraway place. She stepped back from Luke, averting her eyes, then spun around and forced another big smile onto her lips. Lips that still held the taste of Luke, the feel of Luke, tingled from the kiss shared with Luke.

“Ginger,” Maggie said, “I’ll come to the restaurant to make certain that everything is as it should be, then I’m going to scoot on home.”

“But you’re supposed to have dinner with us, Maggie,” Ginger said, pouting prettily.

“I had a late lunch,” Maggie said. “I couldn’t eat a bite. Really.”

“Don’t be silly, my dear,” Mr. Barrington said. “We all know how hard you’ve worked all these months to make this event perfect for our Ginger. I insist that you join us for dinner, even if you don’t eat much. Good. That’s settled. Me? I’m starving. Let’s get going.”

“But—” Maggie said.

“Come along, Mrs. St. John,” Luke said, encircling her shoulders with his arm.

“What?” Maggie said, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Who?”

“Oh, sorry,” Luke said, smiling. “I’m still in my role, I guess. You and I did get married a few minutes ago, you know. Maggie St. John. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Ginger St. John has a nice ring to it,” she said. “That’s who I was pretending to be, remember? I’m Maggie Jenkins and that’s who I intend to remain.”

“Ah,” Luke said, nodding.

“And what does ‘ah’ mean?” she said.

“Only that none of us have crystal balls to see into the future, Maggie Jenkins,” he said. “Who knows what might happen? Shall we go?”

Without speaking further, Maggie grabbed the box that had held the satin bows, then marched down the aisle, snatching her purse from the last pew as she went.

Outside the summer sky was a black velvet canopy sprinkled with twinkling diamondlike stars and a silvery moon, all of which went unnoticed by Maggie as she stomped to her ten-year-old van and slid behind the wheel.

As she took her place in the line of vehicles headed to the restaurant she drew a deep, shuddering breath.

Don’t think, she ordered herself. Don’t dwell on what took place in that church. Don’t relive that kiss, or see again the smoldering passion in Luke’s eyes or feel the tenderness of his hands on her flushed face or acknowledge the desire that had swept through her. Do not do that, Maggie Jenkins. Okay. Fine. She wouldn’t. She would not.

But, darn it, what had happened back there? She had never in her life experienced anything so…so…whatever that had been. It was as though everyone had disappeared, leaving only her and Luke in a wondrous place that was theirs alone. The bride. The groom. The kiss. The undefinable something that in its intensity took desire beyond description. Luke.

Maggie sighed. It was a dreamy, wistful, womanly sigh that caused a soft smile to form on her lips. In the next instant she smacked the steering wheel with the palm of her hand.

“Cut it out, Maggie Jenkins,” she yelled. “Just stop it right now. You are acting so ridiculous, it’s a crime.”

It was amazing, she mentally rushed on, how asinine a person could behave, think, feel, when they were totally exhausted. That, of course, was the explanation for what had happened. Overreaction due to overfatigue. It was all so simple now that she calmed down and thought about it like a rational human being.

At least no one had been aware of how silly she’d behaved while performing in her role of the bride. Well, Reverend Mason had given her and Luke a rather inquisitive look, but everyone else had been oblivious to the nonsense between them.

Well, that was probably not even accurate. Luke had been doing a stand-in thing for his brother, nothing more. She was the one who had gotten all wiggy and weird, not him. Luke had just been pretending to be Robert and seeing her as Ginger. End of story.

Maggie flicked on her blinker and followed the cars into the parking lot of the restaurant.

She’d nibble a bit of dinner, she thought, then be on her way home to bed as quickly as was socially acceptable. Everything was fine. Just fine. She was erasing what had happened from her beleaguered mind. So there.

As the chattering group entered the restaurant, Robert pulled Luke to one side and spoke to his older brother in a quiet voice.

“Luke, my man,” Robert said, “care to explain what was going on between you and Maggie during that rehearsal?”

“What do you mean?” Luke said. “We were just playing out the roles Ginger assigned us, that’s all.”

“Yeah, right,” Robert said with a snort. “From where I was sitting, it didn’t look like ‘let’s pretend.’ No way. You’ve been acting very strange ever since you met Maggie, Luke.”

“Robert, Robert, Robert,” Luke said, shaking his head. “You’ve got a typical case of prewedding jitters, not thinking clearly, seeing things that aren’t there, the whole nine yards. You’d better get it together or you’re liable to pass out at the altar tomorrow night. Trust me. I’ve been in a great many wedding parties over the years and I’ve seen your symptoms time and again.”

“Really?” Robert said, pressing a fingertip on his chest. “Now that you mention it, my heart is beating really fast.”

“That’s one of the signs,” Luke said, nodding. “I’m telling you, little brother, you’ve got to calm down. Ginger will never forgive you if you spoil this shindig by falling flat on your face before you can say ‘I do.’”

“You’re right,” Robert said. “Okay. Deep breath. In. Out. I’m cool. I’m fine.”

“Robert,” Ginger said, coming back to where the brothers were standing. “They’re waiting to seat us. Is something wrong?”

“Robert was just very emotionally moved by the rehearsal at the church,” Luke said. “But all is well now. You’re marrying a very romantic man here, Ginger.”

“Ohhh, you are so sweet,” Ginger said, giving Robert a quick kiss on the lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, sugar,” Robert said.

And unbelievable as it was, Luke thought, he loved Maggie Jenkins. This was definitely a fantastic life-changing night.

The restaurant where the dinner was being held was a five-star establishment, and Maggie had reserved a private dining room for the wedding party.

“Oh,” she said softly when she entered the room.

Everything looked wonderful. The staff had really gone all out, per her instructions. The chandeliers were dimmed to create a rosy hue over the room. The crystal glasses gleamed and the sterling silverware sparkled. Wafer-thin china finger bowls sat by each place setting, and yellow rose petals were scattered whimsically down the center of the table that was covered in a pristine white cloth with lace edging.

Nodding in approval at the lovely and oh-so-romantic atmosphere, Maggie hung back with the intention of claiming a seat close to the door so she could make her early exit without creating a fuss. Just as she was about to sit down, Luke took her arm.

“Whoa,” he said. “The pretend bride and groom are supposed to sit close to the real bride and groom at this dinner. It’s part of the superstition.”

“It is not,” Maggie said, frowning.

“It certainly is,” Luke said indignantly. “You wouldn’t want to upset Ginger, would you? I mean, hey, anyone who spends hours sorting through yogurt-covered almonds to get the proper colors for the nut cups certainly wouldn’t do anything to blow it in the home stretch.”

“Well, Roses and Wishes does aim to please.”

“My point exactly,” Luke said, propelling Maggie toward the middle of the table. “Which is why you and I are going to sit close to the bride and groom before Ginger flips out.”

“But I don’t intend to stay long and I—”

“Here we are,” Luke said, pulling out a chair. “Right across from the happy couple.”

“Mmm,” Maggie said, shooting a glare in Luke’s direction, then plunking down in the chair.

Waitresses appeared, wineglasses were filled. Soups, then salads came and went. Then huge plates of roast beef, baked potatoes and artfully arranged asparagus were set in front of the diners.

Maggie stifled yet another yawn and stared down at the meal.

“Eat,” Luke whispered in her ear.

“I’m too tired to eat.”

“If you don’t eat, Ginger will think something has gone wrong with the wedding plans and you’re upset,” Luke said, “which will cause her to—” he shuddered “—I don’t even want to think about it.”

Maggie sighed and picked up her fork.

The conversations around the table were lively with laughter erupting from one end of the table, then later the other. Everyone was having a wonderful time.

And Maggie was falling asleep.

The four sips of wine she’d consumed were her final undoing, and she was suddenly unable to keep her eyes open. Just as she began to slide off the front of her chair, Luke flung his arm around her and hauled her back up. Maggie blinked and shook her head slightly.

“That was a great story, Maggie,” Luke said, his arm still holding her upright. “Really funny. Ah, here comes the waitress with some coffee. Would you care for some? Yes, you would.”

“Yes, I would,” Maggie mumbled.

“I want to hear the funny story,” Ginger said. “Share with us, Maggie.”

“Um…” Maggie said, a blank expression on her face.

“Right,” Luke said. “Well, you see, Maggie coordinated a wedding where the bride and groom wanted to be married on horseback. That included the minister sitting on a huge stallion, you understand. The stallion was a horny beast, and just as the minister was to pronounce the couple officially wed, the stallion caught the scent of a mare in an adjoining pasture and took off—bam!—just whisked that minister away in a trail of dust.”

Everyone erupted in appropriate laughter, then continued on with their own conversations.

“That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” Maggie said to Luke under her breath.

“I thought it was pretty good considering I was winging it,” Luke said, smiling at her.

“Would you please remove your arm from my person before someone wonders why it is there?”

“Just as soon as you get a few jolts of caffeine in you, my bride,” Luke said.

“I am not your bride,” Maggie said through clenched teeth. “Your arm is disturbing me.”

“Oh?”

“What I mean is,” she said, “it’s heavy. Your arm. And warm. Much too warm. The air-conditioning is on, but there are a great many people in this room and…much too warm. Hot.”

“You’re hot?” Luke said, an expression of pure innocence on his face. “Because I have my arm around you? Because I’m very close to you and you’re very close to me? Isn’t that interesting?”

The waitress filled Maggie’s coffee cup, then Luke’s, then moved on down the table. Maggie leaned forward to grasp her cup, aware that Luke’s arm seemed to be permanently attached to her body. She took a sip of coffee, blew on the remainder to cool it, then drained the cup.

“All better,” she said. “I’m wide awake, ready to rock and roll. You may have your arm back now, Luke.” That strong, masculine and oh-so-hot arm. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“Glad to help,” Luke said slowly, very slowly removing his arm. He paused. “So tell me, Maggie, why is it that someone whose focus is on producing picture-perfect weddings doesn’t want a wedding of her own? Someone mentioned that you don’t intend to marry. I’m curious as to why.”

“It’s a long story,” Maggie said, running one fingertip around the rim of her coffee cup.

“I’m listening.”

“I’d rather not discuss it.” Maggie pushed her chair back and got to her feet. “Thank you for a lovely dinner,” she said to Ginger and Robert. “I’ll see everyone at the church tomorrow night. ‘Bye for now.”

“Hey, wait a minute,” Luke said, getting quickly to his feet. “I think it would be best if I drove you home. You might fall asleep at the wheel.”

“Oh, no, I’m perfectly fine now that I’ve had that coffee. Ta ta.”

As Maggie hurried from the room with a chorus of goodbyes following her out the door, Luke slouched back in his chair, a frown knitting his brows.

“Damn coffee,” he said, looking at Maggie’s empty cup.

“What’s wrong with the coffee?” Ginger said, peering into her own cup.

“It’s fine, honey,” Robert said, then slid a grin at Luke. “It perks up sleepy people that other people wish hadn’t gotten perked.”

“Pardon me?” Ginger said.

“Nothing,” Robert said, chuckling. “It’s a guy thing between me and Luke. You know Luke, Ginger. He was the groom tonight and Maggie was the bride. Don’t you think they made a smashing couple?”

“We’re going to discuss smashing in regard to your nose if you don’t shut up,” Luke said.

Robert burst into laughter. Ginger looked totally confused. Mrs. St. John told her sons to behave themselves, and Luke got to his feet and said he was leaving.

“Great meal,” he said. “In fact, the entire evening was very special. Definitely memorable.”

“Do tell,” Robert said, still beaming.

Luke made an imaginary gun out of his thumb and forefinger and shot his brother, who laughed so hard he got the hiccups.

Roses and Wishes took up the first floor of an older Victorian house that Maggie rented in an area of Phoenix that had been rezoned for businesses. Maggie lived upstairs, having furnished one of the bedrooms as a small living room.

The kitchen was on the main floor, as well as a powder room. The original living room was the reception area where albums with pictures of weddings were displayed and comfortable chairs grouped for discussing forthcoming ceremonies. The dining room was Maggie’s office.

Maggie’s favorite feature of the entire place was the enormous old-fashioned claw-foot bathtub in the upstairs bathroom that allowed her to indulge in long, leisurely soaks with soothing warm water up to her chin.

An hour after leaving the restaurant, having battled the traffic to get home, Maggie sank gratefully into the beckoning bubbles in the tub, rested her head on a spongy pillow on the rim and closed her eyes.

Good grief, she thought, what a night this had been. It had been awful, just awful. Luke St. John was a menace. Yes, that was a great word. A menace. A very dangerous, sensuous member of the male species who was a…a menace to her state of mind and did funny little weird things to her body. Her libido or some such thing. Her womanliness in general. He had nudged awake desire within her that she had worked very hard to put to sleep, to tuck away and ignore. Definitely a menace.

No wonder he had women crawling out of the wood-work trying to get his attention. He had an unexplainable something that pushed sexual buttons in women that they didn’t even know they possessed.

Well, she was wise to him now. Granted, part of her overreaction to Luke St. John was due to her exhaustion, but she had a sneaky feeling that even well-rested she might be susceptible to his whatever-it-was.

So. Tomorrow night at the wedding and the reception following she was going to make very certain that she kept her distance from Mr. St. John.

There would be no more gazing into his incredible eyes. No more strong, hot arms encircling her. And heaven forbid, no more kisses shared that caused her to have naughty images of tearing his clothes off and ravishing his body right there in front of Reverend Mason.

There. It was settled. She had her plan. She’d stay away from Luke tomorrow night, the wedding would take place without a hitch and she’d never see him again.

Maggie opened her eyes and frowned.

Never see Luke again? Never? Ever? No, of course she wouldn’t. He was a member of the jet-set money crowd, and she was among those who hoped they could make next month’s rent. There was simply no way that their paths would cross again.

Why was that depressing?

“Oh, stop it,” she said aloud, then closed her eyes again.

That was a thought from the tired part of her brain that the coffee hadn’t reached. She was now blanking her mind, relaxing in her wonderful bathtub, preparing to sleep away the hours of the night and awake rejuvenated and back to normal with no lingering images or wanton thoughts of Luke St. John.

“Mmm,” Maggie said, feeling the misty fog of sleep begin to dim her senses. “Mmm.”

Maggie began to slide slowly lower in the tub. Then lower and lower…until she disappeared beneath the frothy bubbles.

She shot upward, sputtering as she swallowed a mouthful of suds, the wild motions causing water to splash out of the tub and onto the floor.

Her hair was covered in bubbles, which made her look like a frosted cake and, she knew, would result in a sticky mess that would have to be properly shampooed. The floor would have to be mopped, her towel that she’d placed next to the tub was soaked and…

And Maggie burst into tears.

She cried because she’d scared herself to death by sinking under the water and because the bubbles tasted terrible and now her stomach was upset. She cried because she was too tired to shampoo her hair and mop the floor and deal with a soggy towel and…

She cried because no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t forget what it had been like to be kissed by Luke St. John and she didn’t know how to deal with all the new and foreign feelings she’d experienced.

She cried because after tomorrow night she’d never see Luke again, which she knew, she knew, was for the best, but sometimes the best was really stinky and just so sad.

She cried because…because, darn it anyway, she felt like it.

So Maggie cried until she had no more tears to shed and the water in the tub was cold and her hair had dried and was a gummy disaster sticking up in weird spiky things and her sinuses were clogged, causing a roaring headache.

Maggie sniffled as she got out of the tub, picked up the soggy towel and threw it in the water. She marched into her bedroom and crawled beneath the sheets.

And during the night spent on damp linens and a gooey pillow, she dreamed of Luke St. John.

Chapter Three

Unable to sleep after the events of the unsettling evening, Luke gave up and left his bed, pulling on a lightweight robe. He wandered through his penthouse apartment, finally stopping by a wall of windows to look out over the city lights that shone into infinity.

Thoughts tumbled through his mind one after another, and he pressed the heels of his hands to his throbbing temples for a moment in a futile attempt to halt the onslaught.

Maggie, he thought, crossing his arms over his chest. She was all and everything he had ever hoped to find in a woman. He had only known her for a handful of hours, yet he knew she was the one, his life’s partner.

Half of him wanted to shout the fantastic news from the rooftops, tell the world that he was in love, had found the woman of his heart.

Another section of his being was terrified that Maggie would never come to feel the same way about him, that she would slip away from him like sand falling from the palm of his hand.

Maggie, for reasons she refused to share so far, never intended to marry. That was not good, not good at all. The mystifying question was why. Had she been terribly hurt by a man in the past? Oh, he’d take the guy apart. He’d…Whoa, he would just waste mental energy going off in that direction.

Maybe Maggie was so focused on her career she saw no room for a man in her life. No, that didn’t work for him. He’d dated a multitude of women with that mind-set and they were all popped out of the same mold. Maggie wasn’t like them, not even close. She didn’t have the brittle edginess, that step-over-the-bodies-to-get-to-the-top mentality he was so tired of dealing with.

Maggie was so down to earth, so…real. She’d started a business that made dreams come true for brides, made their weddings a special, memory-making event in their lives.

Ginger and Robert’s day was going to be perfect because Maggie had seen to every detail, including sorting through a mountain of yogurt-covered almonds to select Ginger’s choice of colors.

Yes, Maggie knew how to make dreams come true, yet she didn’t want any of those spectacular weddings to be hers, didn’t want to be the bride who would see her groom waiting eagerly for her at the altar as she made her way down the aisle.

Why?

It was as though Maggie had built tall, strong walls around her heart, and his greatest fear was that he wouldn’t be able to break through them, get a chance to capture her heart as she had his.

The flicker of hope he had, Luke mused as he continued to stare out the window, was that he’d felt Maggie respond to his kiss during the rehearsal, had seen the desire in her big brown eyes directed toward him. Him.

That kiss had been the beginning of the chipping away of that barrier surrounding Maggie. It was a start, a positive one, but he had a long, long way to go.

His first impulse was to ask Maggie out, wine and dine and court her, but a cold knot in his gut told him she’d turn him down flat if he invited her to join him for a night on the town. She’d been upset, really flustered by her reaction to the kiss they’d shared and had beat a hasty retreat from the rehearsal dinner as quickly as she could.

No, the traditional program of flowers, candy and romantic dinners wasn’t going to work because he just somehow knew he wasn’t going to get a chance to put those things in motion.

He needed a new and innovative plan, Luke thought, narrowing his eyes. And he’d better come up with it very quickly. He’d see Maggie at the wedding and reception, but beyond that he envisioned her being set on automatic “no” if he attempted to get her to go out with him.

Ah, Maggie, why? he thought dismally. What secret something held her in an iron fist that made her determined to never fall in love, never marry, never be the bride in one of her meticulously planned weddings?

He didn’t know the answer to that tormenting question. Nor did he know the answer to how he was going to see Maggie again after Robert and Ginger’s wedding. And he didn’t know the answer to how he would face a cold and empty future without her.

Well, the first order of business, he thought, heading back toward his bedroom, was to get some sleep. He was about to begin the greatest battle of his life and he intended to win. Somehow. He would be the victor. Somehow. He would crumble Maggie’s walls into dust and share her sunshine world with her for all time. Somehow.

Late the next morning Maggie entered the small house where her mother lived and presented her with a lumpy plastic bag.

“What’s this, sweetheart?” Martha Jenkins said, holding the bag at eye level.

“Almonds,” Maggie said, sitting down at the kitchen table. “Yogurt-covered almonds in every shade of the rainbow except yellow and mint-green.”

Martha laughed as she sat opposite Maggie and opened the bag. Martha was a rather attractive woman, although not one that would turn heads when she walked into a room. Her brown hair was streaked with gray, which she felt no need to hide, and she had given up long ago trying to lose the twenty pounds that had crept up on her over the years.

“Just what my pudgy person doesn’t need,” she said. “But, what the heck, I’ll eat every one of them. Are these left over from something you did for the big wedding tonight?” She popped two of the nuts into her mouth.

Maggie nodded. “Nut cups. Nut cups, you understand, that only boast yellow and mint-green yogurt-covered almonds, to please my picky bride.” She paused. “No, that’s not fair. Ginger is very sweet. She just had trouble making up her mind about things for a stretch of time there. But when you think about it, she has every right to have things perfect for her special event.”

“That’s true,” Martha said, then sighed. “But that doesn’t guarantee a happy marriage, does it? The bubble bursts and that’s that, as evidenced by the fact that I divorced your father when you were ten. Off he went, never to be seen or heard from again.” She ate four more almonds. “These are yummy.”

“I think Ginger and Robert are going to be a forever couple, Mom,” Maggie said. “If you could see them together…Oh, never mind.”

“Maggie, honey, I worry so about you,” Martha said. “Why on earth did you become a wedding coordinator when there are so many other things you could have done? Why torture yourself creating those beautiful events for other people when—”

“When I know I can never get married myself?” Maggie finished for her.

“Yes,” Martha said, patting her daughter’s hand. “Exactly.”

A sudden and vivid image of Luke flashed through Maggie’s mind and a shiver coursed through her.

“Maybe you’re right,” she said quietly. “Maybe launching Roses and Wishes was a terrible mistake. I’ve been fine for the past year with all the preparations being for other people, but…” She stopped and shook her head.

“Is there something different about this wedding that’s upsetting you?” Martha said, frowning.

“No, not really,” Maggie said quickly, forcing a smile to appear on her lips. “It’s just the largest wedding I’ve done, and after so many months I think I’m just registering a sense of loss, sort of hating to say goodbye to all those people.

“I’m hoping, of course, that my reputation will soar because of Ginger and Robert’s event and I’ll get to do some ritzier weddings. I guess that’s what I want. Oh, ignore me. I’m in a strange mood. Eat another almond, Mom. Yogurt is good for a person.”

“Nuts are fattening,” Martha said, laughing.

“How are things at the store?”

“Same old, same old,” Martha said with a shrug. “I manage the children’s clothing department by rote now, I’ve been doing it for so long. I don’t love it, I don’t hate it, I just do it. Keeps this roof over my head. I really can’t complain, sweetheart. I made my way up the ladder from a salesclerk to the manager and I’m proud of that.”

“You should be,” Maggie said, nodding. “I’m proud of you, too.”

“I’ll just keep plugging along until I retire. Since I just turned fifty, I have a ways to go, though.” Martha paused. “Do you feel that type of settled in with Roses and Wishes? Do you see yourself running your business for many years to come?”

“I’m not sure,” Maggie said, then popped an almond in her mouth. “As I said, I’m having sort of a letdown after working on this big wedding so long. I’ll have a better idea how I really feel after tonight and I get some more sleep, sleep, sleep. I’m exhausted and now isn’t the time to analyze how I feel about Roses and Wishes.”

“True.” Martha nodded, then sighed. “Oh, Maggie, I wish things were different. I’d like to think you’d be planning one of those beautiful weddings for yourself someday, but…Hardly seems fair, does it? I know, I know, no one said that life is fair.”

“No,” Maggie said quietly, “no one said that.”

Mother and daughter chatted for a while longer, Martha bringing Maggie up to date on the gossip in the neighborhood, including the news that another of Maggie’s childhood friends was getting married, which did nothing to improve Maggie’s rather gloomy mood.

Another bride, she thought as she hugged her mother, then left the house. Another bride that wasn’t her. Her mom had said she’d reminded the bride-to-be about Roses and Wishes but, due to a very limited budget, the newly engaged couple planned to exchange vows at the courthouse.

No, she thought as she drove away, she wasn’t getting more depressed by the minute because her friend hadn’t chosen Roses and Wishes to plan her wedding. It was because her friend was having a wedding, had found her special someone and would live happily ever after.

Happily ever after, Maggie mused, then sighed. Every bride and groom believed that was their destiny, that they would be together until death parted them, and for some that was gloriously true. But for others?

“Don’t go there, Maggie,” she ordered herself aloud. “Go home and eat a ton of yogurt-covered almonds and quit thinking.” She drew a wobbly breath. “And whatever you do, do not dwell on Luke St. John.”

Months ago Maggie had splurged on what she referred to in her mind as The Dress. It was sea-green chiffon with a camisole top and a skirt that swirled in changing hues of color just below her knees. Her shoes were strappy evening sandals with three-inch heels. If the event was during the Phoenix winter, she added a lacy off-white shawl that had belonged to her grandmother.

The fact that she wore the same dress to each wedding was immaterial, she knew, because she went unnoticed, was just a busy figure in the background who bustled around making certain everything went as planned.

Wearing The Dress, Maggie arrived at the church an hour before the ceremony was to begin and checked to see that the flowers were delivered and in place. Two of the candles in front of the altar were yellow, and the single one that represented Ginger and Robert united was mint-green.

Maggie stood in the silent church in front of the candles, remembering how Reverend Mason had explained their meaning while she and Luke were playing out the roles of bride and groom.

Knowing she was acting ridiculous, Maggie slid one of the yellow tapers free, then glanced to the right, envisioning Luke holding the other one. In her mind’s eye she saw them moving at the same time, igniting the one larger candle in the center. She blew out the imaginary flame that declared her to be a single entity and saw—oh, yes, she really saw—the dancing light from the larger candle in the middle.

Maggie, stop it, she ordered herself as she replaced the yellow taper. Enough of this foolishness.

She turned and her breath caught as she saw Luke standing at the back of the church, watching her as he held a garment bag over his shoulder with one finger.

Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, she walked up the aisle to where Luke stood.

“Hello, Luke,” she said, looking at an empty space just above his head. “I was just making certain the candles weren’t stuck in the holders or anything. Details, details, details. You just wouldn’t believe how many little things there are to keep track of for an event like this. And that’s my job, by golly, checking all those details and…”

“You look beautiful.” Luke’s voice was rich, deep and so very male and sensuous that a shiver coursed through Maggie. “Pretty as a bride.”

“Oh, well, thank you,” Maggie said, still not meeting his gaze. “This is The Dress. What I mean is—Never mind. It’s not important. I assume that’s your tux you’re holding. Ginger changed her mind three times on the color of the tuxedos before settling on pale gray. I hope you don’t mind wearing a ruffled shirt, because she didn’t budge on ruffled shirts. So. Well. I’d best go into the bride’s dressing room and…”

“Maggie, look at me,” Luke said quietly.

“Gosh, I just don’t have time to do that, Luke.”

“Look…at…me.”

Maggie slowly shifted her eyes to Luke’s and immediately felt light-headed, as though she might float off into oblivion.

“Yes?” she said softly.

“Will you save me a dance at the reception?”

“No, I can’t because I don’t actually take part, per se, in the reception activities. I hover around in the background checking those pesky little details I told you about. So, nope, no dance. Sorry ‘bout that. Gotta go. ‘Bye.”

“Maggie, do I make you nervous?” Luke said, frowning.

“Nervous? Me?” she said, waving one hand in the air. “Don’t be silly. It’s not you, it’s the whole evening ahead. The reputation of Roses and Wishes is at stake here. Everything has to be perfect.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding. “That includes keeping all members of the wedding party happy. Right?”

“Well, yes, I suppose so.”

“Then promise you’ll dance with me. Just one dance, Maggie. That’s not too much to ask, is it? You wouldn’t want to make the best man grumpy, would you? Heaven forbid.”

Maggie narrowed her eyes. “Do you always get what you want, Luke?”

“When it’s very important to me, I do,” he said, still looking directly into her eyes. “Is it a deal? One dance?”

“Jeez Louise, all right,” Maggie said. “But if some detail goes wrong while I’m dancing that dance, it will be your fault, Luke St. John.”

“Fair enough,” he said, smiling. “I’ll see you later then.”

“Fine,” she said, then scooted around him and hurried away.

Luke stood statue-still for a long moment, staring at the candles that symbolized two becoming one. He nodded, then turned and walked slowly toward the room where the men in the wedding party were to change into their pale gray tuxedos.

Maggie had prepared herself to deal with a totally jangled and nervous-to-the max prewedding Ginger. To Maggie’s amazement and heartfelt delight, Ginger had a quiet serenity about her when she arrived in the dressing room at the church.

“Are you really okay?” Maggie said, peering at the bride.

“I’m about to marry the man I love with my whole heart, Maggie,” Ginger said softly. “That’s all I can think about, focus on. It’s strange, isn’t it? I made such a fuss about having the right colored almonds in the nut cups, and suddenly none of that is important.”

“I think that’s wonderful,” Maggie said, smiling. “And you’re absolutely beautiful in your dress, Ginger. I hope you and Robert will be very, very happy together.”

“Oh, we will be,” Ginger said, nodding. “We will be.”

Forever? Maggie thought. Until death parted them and even beyond? What were the chances of that?

“Mother,” Ginger said, bringing Maggie back to the moment at hand, “you’ve got to stop crying or you’ll be all blotchy in the photographs.”

“I know, I know,” Mrs. Barrington said, dabbing at her nose with yet another tissue. “But you’re my baby girl and…Ohhh, I’m a wreck.”

“It’s time,” Maggie said, looking at her watch. “Mothers, please go and have the ushers seat you now. Bridesmaids, head for the vestibule. You’re all simply gorgeous.”

“I look like one of those yogurt-covered almonds,” Tiffy said, frowning at her reflection in the mirror. “I don’t want to do this.”

Maggie stepped in front of Tiffy to block her view of herself in the mirror.

“If you want to live to see another day,” Maggie said so only Tiffy could hear, “you’ll go get in line, Tiffy.”

“You can’t talk to me like that.”

“I just did,” Maggie said.

“Oh. Right. Okay. I’m going,” Tiffy said, giving Maggie a wary look, then hurrying from the room.

Maggie threw up her hands. “Well, if Tiffy ever gets married, Roses and Wishes sure isn’t going to get the chance to coordinate her wedding.”

Over three hundred guests witnessed the wedding of Ginger Barrington and Robert St. John. From her usual place in the last pew in the church, Maggie Jenkins indulged herself by watching Luke St. John during the entire picture-perfect ceremony.

What Luke did for a pale gray tuxedo, she thought dreamily, was sinful. The color accentuated his dark hair and tanned skin. The custom-tailored tux made his shoulders look a block wide. And those strong but gentle hands produced the ring right on cue.

The smile that broke across Luke’s face when Robert kissed his wife sent shivers coursing down Maggie’s spine.

Reverend Mason introduced Mr. and Mrs. Robert St. John to the congregation, then the organ music swelled and the recessional took place, the smiling bride and groom leading the way back down the aisle. When Luke and the maid of honor went by where Maggie stood, he met her gaze for a brief moment and a frisson of heat swirled throughout her.

How on earth, Maggie thought, very aware of her racing heart, was she going to survive her dance with Luke? A promise was a promise, but…If she was just so busy tending to those details, details, details and managed to keep some distance between her and Luke, the dance might never take place. It would take some fancy footwork on her part and she’d have to stay on red alert as to where Luke was at all times, but she could pull this off.

“Good plan,” she said under her breath. “Maggie, you’re brilliant.”

The reception was being held at one of the exclusive country clubs in Phoenix. A dinner buffet greeted the guests and the huge ballroom was filled with a multitude of round tables each topped with a mint-green or yellow tablecloth and contrasting color candle burning in a glass cylinder in the center. A ten-piece band would play quietly during the meal, then change to Ginger’s choice of dance music after the champagne toasts had been made and the four-tier cake had been cut and served by the army of waiters.

As everything continued to go like clockwork, Maggie began to relax and a wave of utter fatigue swept over her. She sat on a folding chair in a dim corner of the room, nibbling on a small plate of food, and nodded in approval at the final outcome of her months of labor.

She’d done it, she thought. Roses and Wishes had hopefully now wiggled its way into the high-society scene of Phoenix. She’d seen the business cards she’d propped next to the candleholder on each table being slipped into purses and given to men to place in their pockets. Fantastic.

Maggie frowned as she recalled the conversation with her mother regarding whether Maggie truly wanted to continue to plan weddings for bride after bride while knowing she herself would never have that title. Well, she wasn’t going to dwell on that now, for heaven’s sake. She intended to bask in her glory tonight of a job well done for Ginger and Robert St. John.

Maggie placed her plate on the tray of a passing waiter, then smiled as Ginger and Robert took the floor for the first dance.

How lovely, she thought. They looked so happy, had eyes only for each other as they moved around the gleaming expanse. They danced so well together and—

Maggie suddenly sat bolt upright in her chair.

Dancing, she thought frantically. Other couples were now joining the bride and groom to enjoy the terrific music and so many people were dancing, for heaven’s sake. Where was Luke? She had to keep careful track of Luke.

There he was dancing with Ginger. Now he’d shifted to his mother. Fine. My, my, he was poetry in motion, so graceful for a man of his size. Oops. He’d bowed slightly and given his mother’s hand to his father and—no, no, no—he was headed toward her secret little corner, was working his way through the crowd on the dance floor. She was out of there.

Maggie jumped to her feet and hurried to the head table, where she gave instructions for the top layer of the cake to be boxed up so it could be frozen and brought out again on Ginger and Robert’s first anniversary celebration.

“Give it to the mother of the bride,” Maggie told a waiter. “She agreed to take care of it tonight.”

“You told us that at the meeting we had last week,” the waiter said, frowning. “I’ve got it covered, Maggie.”

“Of course you do,” Maggie said, patting him on the arm. “I’m sorry for nagging.” She looked quickly into the distance and saw Luke advancing. “How’s the supply of champagne holding up?”

“Fine,” the waiter said, rolling his eyes. “Trust me. Everything is going great. Isn’t there something else you should be doing?”

“Right.” Maggie pointed one finger in the air. “I do believe I’ll visit the powder room.”

“Good idea,” the man said drily. “Don’t feel you have to check back here.”

“Keep up the great work,” Maggie said, then rushed away.

When Maggie entered the powder room, she absently registered the fact that it was bigger than her entire living space at home. There was a huge sitting area with love seats, easy chairs and coffee tables holding attractive baskets of artificial flowers.

Beyond all of that were the stalls, a long mirror surrounded by makeup bulbs and a vanity with eight or ten sinks. The noise level was high as women stood two deep in front of the mirror, touching up their postdinner lipstick, one row peering over the shoulders of the other as they chatted and laughed, a good time obviously being had by all.

There was no point in staying in here with this crowd, Maggie thought, shaking her head. The noise was enough to give her a headache and, besides, her purse was locked in a cabinet in the kitchen, so she had nothing to repair her lipstick with.

Well, there was no problem really about leaving the powder room, because even if Luke had figured out where she had been headed, he wouldn’t do anything as crass as to plant himself outside the door of the women’s restroom. People with money were very big on proper social decorum, and that maneuver definitely wouldn’t go down well here.

Nodding in satisfaction that she was so far doing a dandy job of keeping a safe distance between herself and Luke, Maggie opened the door and walked out into the hallway beyond.

And walked smack-dab into the solid, unmoving body of Luke St. John.