Kitabı oku: «A Convenient Groom», sayfa 2
‘Of course. You’re a real blast to be with, Riana. Never a dull moment.’ He leant closer, taking her hands in his. ‘You’re my little party animal…What’s the matter?’
Riana looked at Stuart, her mind struggling to make sense of his words, while she tried not to. ‘I thought…I thought we were moving to the next level…you know?’
She lifted her chin and glared at the man opposite her. This couldn’t be happening to her.
Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe she’d misheard, been mistaken. Stuart Brooks wasn’t the sort of man who would toy with a woman. He had breeding, class and manners.
She shifted in her seat, determined. She wasn’t going to go anywhere, least of all Switzerland, until she knew exactly where he figured this relationship was heading.
He furrowed his brow. ‘Next level?’
‘Yes,’ she said softly, trying to smile at his act of naïvety. ‘I thought you were going to propose to me tonight.’
Stuart closed his mouth tightly, making rumbling noises as though he was going to explode. ‘Come on, you’re kidding, right?’ He laughed loudly.
‘I thought you loved me?’
Stuart took a gulp of his drink. ‘Do you love me?’
Riana placed her hand over her heart. ‘I thought we had a future together.’
‘Riana. Of course we do. A future of fun, sport, holidays…’
She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come.
Stuart sculled the contents of his glass. ‘You’re not exactly marriage material, are you?’
‘Not marriage material!’ She held her hands tightly on her lap, willing her legs to work, to get up, to get away, but she could barely breathe, let alone walk.
She was numb.
He wasn’t serious about her. Not serious at all, and she’d just made a giant fool of herself, blurting out what she felt, yet again, to a man out to break her heart if she let him.
She stared at the man opposite her, watching his lips move, trying to take in his long-winded explanation over the rush of blood to her face and the heavy weight in her chest.
She choked back the burning sensation in her throat. She wasn’t going to be Mrs Brooks. She wasn’t going to be Mrs Anybody.
She wasn’t ever going to find someone to love her, and the fact tore through her heart, ripping all her dreams to shreds.
CHAPTER THREE
JOE rearranged the tripod for the tenth time, standing back to assess the angles.
Thank goodness Tara Andrews had been around to let him in an hour ago. It had been late but she’d understood his need to get the equipment set up right for tomorrow. So much so that she’d left him to it, with exact instructions on how to lock up when he left.
Tara looked a lot like her sister, but had shorter hair, a far more cool and calm demeanour and a few years more experience in the world.
Joe rolled his shoulders, trying to dispel the tension. He wasn’t sure what it was about today that sat uneasily in his chest. The lighting had been good. The models fantastic. The gowns awesome. Riana sure had a flair for the exquisite in her designs.
He looked through the lens. What was it that was off? Wrong? Off kilter? He couldn’t put his finger on it…
He shook his head. Whatever it was he’d have to sort it out tonight for the re-shoot tomorrow. It was an absolute pain but he wanted to get it perfect for Riana.
‘Marry me?’
Joe spun around at the woman’s voice.
Riana stood in the doorway in a tight red dress that caressed her curves, accentuating how womanly she was. Her shoulder-length hair spilled around her shoulders like ebony waves, her lips pouty, her eyes wide and on him.
She leant heavily on the door-frame as though her legs weren’t strong enough to hold her, a bottle dangling from one hand.
He frowned as the label became clear. Vodka. Half gone. What was going on? ‘What—?’
She staggered forward. ‘I said…Will you marry me?’ she slurred.
He shook his head. He couldn’t be hearing right. Or he was hallucinating. What was she doing here at this hour? Drunk? And proposing? He shook his head, trying to work her out. ‘What—?’
She lifted the bottle and pointed it at him. ‘Have you got a hearing problem?’
Joe slipped his hands into his pockets, eyeing her warily. This didn’t feel like her at all. ‘No,’ he said carefully. ‘No hearing problem.’
‘Then?’ She opened her eyes wide and waved her free hand in a circle as though she was rolling the tape faster.
She wanted to marry him? His blood heated. Did she like him? Was frustration behind her behaviour towards him today? ‘Why on earth would you want to marry me?’
‘Apart from your charming smile and scintilating wit…’ She tried to smother a laugh, and failed. ‘Because—’ her voice broke ‘—because Stuart didn’t propose at all. He didn’t want me to marry him, he just wanted me to go to ski with him in the Alps…when he got bored with his friends.’
He cringed. The poor girl. She’d been so fired up earlier that the bloke was the one for her…
Riana shook her head, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. ‘He must have seen the look on my face.’ She sighed heavily. ‘And asked me what was up, so I told him…that I thought he was going to propose to me.’
Joe ran a hand through his hair. Hell. Talk about putting herself on the line. ‘And?’
She took a gulp from the bottle, and gasped as the liquid slid down her throat, waving her free hand in front of her mouth as though the air would cool her mouth.
How was she drinking the stuff straight? If she was out to get herself blind drunk she certainly was on the way.
‘And apparently he’s so rich…his family has social standing…somewhere…and he made it abundantly clear that I wasn’t…marriage material.’
Jeez, the guy was a total jerk. Wasn’t it enough to break her heart? Did he have to drive what was left of her into the ground? ‘So…’ he offered cautiously.
She lifted her chin, took another swig from the bottle and swayed. ‘So, I’m not his girlfriend any more.’
He stiffened.
She staggered forward, leaning against a chair. ‘I’m the only one now who’s a hopeless loser…I can’t find anyone who wants to marry me.’
Joe ran a hand through his hair, his chest tight. This was the last place he’d expected to find he was needed. And she was the last person he expected to need him. ‘Riana—’
She staggered across the room. ‘I thought I’d be fending off the proposals by now.’ She waved her arm around wildly. ‘But…apparently…I’m all right for a bit of fun but not—’
Joe moved forward, his attention on all the cords, stands and equipment around the room. The last thing she needed was to be a damaged designer. ‘Hey, there’s nothing wrong with you.’
She brandished the bottle, staring at him, her dark eyes blazing. ‘Yeah, right. Nothing. Then why am I alone again? Have you any idea how many boyfriends I’ve had?’
He shook his head. He could imagine. She was beautiful. Not the cover model sort of beautiful, but the smooth-skinned, bright-eyed, sweet-faced sort of beautiful that made your loins ache and your blood heat.
She stabbed the bottle of spirit towards him. ‘I don’t know either. I’ve lost count. It’s so depressing, isn’t it?’
He shrugged casually, inching closer to her, around the spotlights. He needed to make her safe, before something else happened to her. ‘You weren’t dumped every time?’ he asked, more to make conversation than satisfy his curiosity. She couldn’t have been. Who in their right mind would want to dump her?
‘Course not,’ she slurred. ‘I dumped them before they could dump me.’ She glanced around her. ‘I can tell when they get that look in their eyes, when they’re lying to me,’ she whispered and lifted her chin defiantly. ‘And there’s no way I’d give them the satisfaction.’
She took another swallow from the bottle and swayed dangerously close to one of the tripods he’d set up earlier for his cameras.
Joe lunged forward and clasped her by the shoulders. She was softer than he’d imagined, her skin smooth and warm. Vulnerable.
Something primitive lurched inside him.
Joe shook off the sensation and propelled her over the cords to the carpeted steps of the platform, vividly aware of his hold on her.
He clenched his jaw tight and guided her down to a safe landing, trying not to think about how sweet she smelled, of strawberries and vodka. Of how warm the bare skin of her shoulders was, under his hands that itched to explore her. Or how beautiful her dusky eyes were, staring up at him with an open expectation that made his chest tight. What could he say? ‘Steady on there.’
He straightened her up on the step. Her clients would probably strut their outfits here for their family and friends. All happy and full of hope. Nothing like Riana was now.
He sat down beside her as casually as he could manage. He had to get that bottle off her before she did something stupid. ‘I could do with a drink myself,’ he suggested lightly.
‘Here.’ She thrust the bottle at him and smiled. ‘I like to share, and I’d make a good wife…I’m pretty sure.’
He took the bottle from her, ignoring the crazy lurch of excitement in the pit of his gut at her smile, at her warm body pressed beside his, of how close her full red lips were.
Joe took a swig, breathed through the liquid fire sliding down his throat and tucked the bottle behind his leg, out of view. ‘Why marry me?’
‘Why not?’ She shrugged. ‘I figure, what the hell…If I can’t be anyone else’s wife, I’ll be yours.’
Joe stared at her. Words escaped him. Not the sort of flattery he was after. ‘Right,’ he managed. ‘Okay.’
She leant towards him. ‘You really want to know why?’
‘Yes.’
‘Cause if you won’t have me,’ she whispered, staring up into his face, her eyes glistening. ‘No one will.’
His chest tightened. Hell. Was he that bad? How could she have got an impression like that about him? He shifted on the step, looking towards the door.
‘Yep.’ She nodded. ‘You’re rude, obnoxious and awfully scruffy…’ She ran a hand down his coarse whiskers, shaking her head.
His blood rushed hot through his body, her fingers leaving a trail of burning desire down his jaw. What was she doing to him?
‘I’m the bottom of the barrel?’ Joe asked slowly. Surely all those years in university and then working his way into a reasonable reputation for finely executed photographs had counted for something?
She nodded earnestly. ‘Yep. Bottom-bottom.’
Joe swallowed hard. ‘And why do you feel that you need a man in your life, a husband, to feel complete?’ he asked, cringing at his own idiocy. A bit of layman psychology wasn’t going to be enough for this situation, not in a long shot.
She waved her hands in the air, tears brimming in her eyes. ‘Everyone knows that life isn’t the same if you don’t share it.’ She sagged against him as though the effort of talking had taken what was left of her energy, leaning her head on his shoulder. ‘Where’s the fun in doing stuff, movies, meals, places, if you don’t share it?’
‘True.’ He had to agree on that one. Sure, he wasn’t going looking for someone to marry but when you found the right person to fit comfortably into your life and share it with…
Riana straightened. ‘So, will you share my life with me or will I have to go and find another bottle?’ She stared at her empty hands then looked around her. ‘Where’s my vodka?’
‘You don’t need more booze. It won’t solve anything.’
‘Huh. Says you.’ She dug around in the purse hanging off her shoulder as though she could find it in there.
Joe’s gut tightened. ‘You know the stuff can kill you?’
She shrugged, tipping her bag out, the contents spilling on to the floor. ‘What the hell, like it matters…’
Joe stared at the scattered contents of her bag. She had enough make-up to start a small shop, plus a small can of hairspray, a couple of brushes, a mobile phone, loose change and receipts.
His gaze stopped on her car keys, memories of his sister flooding his mind. A tough breakup, booze, tears and car keys…
Raw grief sliced through him.
Hell, there was no way he could sit by and let Riana do this to herself—he looked her in the eyes—not when he could do something about it.
‘Yes.’
She swayed towards him, her finely arched eyebrows lifting. ‘What?’
He sucked in a deep breath. ‘Yes.’
Her brow creased. ‘Yes what?’
Joe cupped her face with his hands and stared into her beautiful dark eyes, praying that this would make all the difference to her. ‘Yes, I will marry you.’
She smiled, her full red lips curving into a smile, her eyes brightening. ‘You will?’
‘Sure.’ And as soon as she sobered up and came to her senses she’d dump him like she’d dumped every other man that came into her life. But at least she’d make it through the night without making a mistake that could cost her life.
She swung her arms around him and held him tightly. ‘I’m so happy.’
Desire rippled through him. She felt so good. He tried not to breathe in her scent, take in the feel of her body pressed against his, or think about the wild responses deep within him.
She was all woman. Her alluring softness pressed against him. The sweetness of strawberries surrounded him. The soft scent of her shampoo invaded his senses as she held him close to her.
‘I’m not a loser then, am I?’ she whispered into his ear, her breath caressing the nerves in his neck, making promises that Joe knew could never be.
He shook his head, sucking in deep, slow breaths, bringing his arms up. He hesitated. Hell. He closed his arms around her, holding her close.
He couldn’t have her think he didn’t care about her. She had to believe that the proposal was real for now. That he loved holding her, loved the feel of her, the smell of her, the sweetness of her voice, no matter how slurred.
She had to see how much life she had yet to live.
Riana pulled back, running her soft fingertips down his bristly cheek, biting her bottom lip. ‘Where’s my ring?’
‘Pardon?’
‘You’ve got to give me a ring if we’re engaged.’ She smiled wildly at him.
Joe stared at her. Was she for real? She was amazing…unbelievable…drunk as hell…and such a romantic.
Hell. A ring. Where the hell was he going to get a ring from at this time of night?
He glanced at his fingers, all empty. Now would have been the perfect moment for that silver skull ring his mother had confiscated from him at sixteen.
Joe pulled the nearest camera bag over to him and flipped it open. Something he could use as a ring…? He undid one of the tripod legs and took the brass packer off the end. It looked about the right size.
He offered the small brass ring to her on his palm.
Riana pouted. ‘Do it properly.’ And she held out her hand as though she was in some old movie, awaiting a kiss from a handsome prince on her left hand. ‘And you have to kneel.’
Joe ran a hand through his hair. ‘Okay.’ He tucked the vodka bottle into the camera bag and shoved it to one side. He dropped to the floor in front of her.
He looked up into her face, saw the tears brimming in her eyes. His gut tightened.
He swallowed hard and slipped the ring slowly onto her finger, his mind a mass of crazy thoughts, his body a frenzy of tangled urges. None of which he had any intention of pursuing.
‘With this ring…’ she murmured, listing to one side, a soft smile on her face, her eyes closed.
‘That comes later,’ he said, shaking his head. And in this case, not at all. He was already seriously involved.
She fell sideways.
Joe caught her in his arms, holding her. What a night.
He lifted Riana into his arms, sending a prayer to the ceiling that the morning would bring her some sense as well as sobriety.
The last thing he needed was another fiancée.
CHAPTER FOUR
RIANA held her head and opened her eyes gingerly. Damn, what had she been drinking? She pried her tongue off the roof of her mouth and wet her dry lips, swallowing hard, trying to dispel the fur lining.
She was lying on the white sofa in her back office, her shoes on the floor, the spring silk samples draped over her like a blanket.
What was she doing here?
She vaguely recalled coming to the boutique last night…and before that? The wave of despair hit her. Stuart didn’t want to marry her!
Her eyes burned. He was such a jerk. Using her like a plaything, something just for fun, to amuse him until someone worth getting serious over came along.
She stared at the ceiling. Why on earth wasn’t she serious material? Sure, she may not have come from a rich family, or gone to a private school, but she had a class all of her own.
She shook her head. She was an idiot for even considering that he was worth her time, let alone her hand in marriage. The nerve of the man to tell her that she wasn’t good enough for him or his high-and-mighty rich family! 41
She rolled off the sofa, holding her stomach with one hand, her head with the other, bracing herself against the pitching of her senses.
The floor wavered. Darn. She should have kept drinking so she didn’t have to think about him, or feel like this.
She closed her eyes, resting on the edge of the sofa. At least she’d ended up safely here at Camelot Bridal Boutique and not in some gutter somewhere. That wouldn’t have been a good look for a wannabe up-and-coming designer.
She cupped her cheeks, holding her face in the hope that it might still the vibrations gnawing at her head. She hoped she didn’t look as bad as she felt.
She glanced at the clock on the wall. Seven-thirty. At least Joe couldn’t complain this morning about her tardiness. Did she still have that change of clothes in her office from the last time she went straight from work to a club? She hoped so. She couldn’t wait to see the look on Joe’s face when he arrived and she was already here.
Joe…
She strained to think. There was something about him that she was missing. She shook her head tentatively. Whatever it was, it could wait. The last session with him was today and she wouldn’t have to think about the scruffy-looking control freak again.
Riana stood up and staggered to the bathroom, her legs feeling as though all the alcohol she’d drunk last night had solidified there, every step jarring her brain and her stomach.
Waves of nausea slapped her senses.
Riana flicked the light switch in the bathroom and blinked away the pain behind her eyes.
She glanced at herself in the mirror. Mistake. Her hair was sticking out at wild angles as though something unspeakable had nested in it for the night. The smudges around her eyes from her make-up gave her the classic been-in-a-pub-brawl look, and her skin was as pasty as olive skin could get on a bad day. And, sheesh, it was a bad, bad day.
She turned the tap on. What she needed was a long hot shower to make her feel better, wash away all the comments Stuart had thrown around. Huh! She wasn’t just for a good time.
She cupped her hands under the streaming warm water, her attention caught by the glimmer of gold on her hand.
What? A ring? On that finger?
Her belly lurched. She brought her hand up closer to her face. The small band looked like a wedding ring. She shook her head as much as her aching brain allowed. But it couldn’t be. Whirlwind weddings didn’t happen in Australia. There were no Vegas altars available twenty-four-seven here.
Riana knew this for a fact. Her older sister, Skye, was forever being asked how fast a wedding could take place—mostly by young couples too caught up in the amazing raptures of love to think straight.
It was a month, she was sure of it. And it could only be less if someone was dying—if she was remembering right. She did have the habit of blocking out her sisters’ talk about work.
She fingered the band. Who?
Had she done it herself, knowing she deserved to be as happily married as her sisters? Or had someone else put it there? Why?
She scrunched her eyes tightly closed, clawing for any hint of last night’s desolation and subsequent commiseration with a bottle of vodka.
Joe’s face came to mind.
Riana grabbed the sink for support. Something to do with Joe Henderson, photographer extraordinaire, last night?
She could remember his face, strong and angular, his jaw rough with bristle. She closed her palm, almost feeling the sensation on her fingertips.
She’d touched him?
Flashes came to mind. Of kind words, his velvet-smooth deep voice, his golden eyes looking down at her with a warmth that made her toes curl.
What had she said to him? Her throat burned. The last thing she wanted was that man to know all her woes, especially after bragging up Stuart’s imminent proposal.
She sagged to the floor. Could she have acted more like an idiot if she’d tried? Fancy believing in the jerk so much that she’d told everyone that he was going to propose, including Joe.
Tears burned her eyes and made her throat ache with the need to yell. She was a fool.
Memories flooded her mind—of all the time she’d taken to spend with Stuart, of all the energy she’d spent on him, all the smiles, the flirting, the amazing outfits. And he was just like every other jerk that she’d met.
She stared at the ceiling, futilely blinking back the tears. She’d even told her mother she could stop worrying about her, that she was going to settle down too, like her sisters.
She let the tears flow, let the sobs rack her body, cursing her big fat mouth. Everyone was going to know now how much of an idiot she’d been with Stuart. He hadn’t loved her at all.
There was a light tap on the door.
‘Hey?’ said a deeply male voice. ‘Are you okay in there?’
Riana staggered to her feet, choking back the tears and the pain in her head. Couldn’t a girl have a quiet cry on her own bathroom floor without being interrupted? She flung the door open. ‘What?’ she snapped.
Joe Henderson stood in front of her, freshly shaved, his hair combed back, his blue jeans fitting very nicely on his body, and his white T-shirt stretched tightly across his wide chest.
Riana looked up into his golden-flecked eyes. They were wide with concern, looking at her as though she was a fragile butterfly who’d head-butted a wall.
‘Are you okay?’
She straightened taller, trying not to cringe at the splitting ache in her head at the slightest movement. She didn’t need his pity. ‘I’m fine.’
He lifted an eyebrow.
She swiped at her damp cheeks with the back of her hand. Darn. Now she must really look bad after turning on the waterworks. She was probably all blotchy. ‘You’re being nice,’ she accused.
He slipped his hands into his pockets. ‘Well, yes. After last night…’
Last night? She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, tilting her head and probing his eyes for what in heavens she’d said or done last night. ‘I wanted to talk to you about last night.’
He nodded. ‘I figured you would.’
She looked at her feet. What had she done with him? Her body tingled and heat shot to her cheeks. No. She couldn’t have done that. Not with him. No.
Riana let her gaze wander up Joe’s very long legs, over his flat stomach, up his solid chest, ignoring the urge to run her hands up along his muscles, to his smooth face and soft, warm eyes.
Her body heated in places she didn’t want to think about. She bit her bottom lip. She couldn’t have, could she?
She stared into the man’s face, giving him a second look. He certainly wasn’t acting the same man as yesterday. Something big had to have happened between them to cause such a change in him.
Realisation dawned. Her body’s reactions to him were evidence enough, let alone his turnaround in mood towards her. She must have made love to him!
‘Oh, no. No.’ She covered her face. ‘I’m going to just die.’ She swung away from him, her cheeks blazing, her stomach tight and her head throbbing.
‘Hey,’ he said softly, laying his large hands on her shoulders and turning her round.
A shiver raced down her spine at his warm hands against her bare skin. Darn. She wished she could remember what her body obviously did. She would have thought that of all the things she would have remembered it would have been making love to Joe Golden Eyes.
‘It’s not as bad as you think.’
Rushing from one disaster into the arms of another? Yes, it was. It so totally was.
‘Hey?’
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘No. It’s worse.’ How could she look him in the face? What sort of woman made love to a stranger while she was drunk? A fool. A total fool.
‘Nothing is as bad as it first appears.’ He patted her shoulders. ‘Trust me.’
‘Oh, really?’ She swallowed hard, her mind a throbbing mass of tangled thoughts. How could she have slept with the photographer from hell? Why was she so hopeless when it came to men? ‘Tell me then why I shouldn’t just go and kill myself?’
He lifted her chin and stared down into her eyes, his brow furrowed. ‘You have a lot to live for.’
Riana could just imagine the looks on her sisters’ faces when they heard about her latest act of madness. As if she didn’t have enough on her mind with Stuart’s defection from a committed relationship.
‘You have me,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll be here by your side.’
She jerked her chin up. ‘You?’ She didn’t pick him as the sort of guy to stick around after he’d notched up another conquest on his bed-head.
‘Sure.’ He pushed a wisp of hair from her face, diplomatically avoiding staring at the wild mess on her head. ‘I meant it last night when I said I wanted to marry you.’
His words struck her like a wrecking ball to the chest. ‘Marry me?’ she whispered.
He smiled down at her, his eyes bright and warm and caring. ‘Sure, you’re a wonderful, beautiful woman who has everything to live for.’
‘Live for?’ she echoed, her heart pounding in her chest a million miles an hour. What was he talking about? Marriage? This couldn’t be happening, couldn’t be real.
‘Sure,’ he said softly. ‘There must be a million things you can be doing rather than dwelling on the past, like designing your wedding dress.’
‘Wedding dress…’ Riana lifted her hand and stared at the brass band on her finger, vaguely recalling Joe’s face and some words…With this ring?
He stroked the brass band. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get something better than this for you later on. It’s all I had on me at the time,’ he said steadily, watching her closely as though to gauge her response to his words. ‘Don’t worry about anything.’
Riana stared at the man in front of her, her body as numb as her mind. So she hadn’t made love to him, but what in heavens had she done?
He glanced at the office door. ‘I’ve got to get going—everyone’s arriving. Just take your time, your assistants are with the models. No need to rush.’ He leant forward and brushed his lips over her forehead. ‘I’ll see you later, okay?’
‘Okay,’ she breathed, her skin burning where his kiss had touched her.
She wasn’t numb any more, she was on fire…and engaged to a stranger!
Joe ran his hands through his hair, striding out of Riana’s back office and into the throng of models and seamstresses. Hell. He’d thought the morning would have brought Riana some perspective on the situation. It hadn’t. She seemed as upset and distraught as she had been last night over the break-up.
His gut wrenched anew at the echo of her sobs, of her wide-eyed stare, of her voice tight with pain, and of her tear-streaked face.
He clenched his fists by his sides. She must have really loved the guy. Like his sister had loved a guy, and lost him, and herself.
He stalked down the hallway, past two of Riana’s assistants dressing one of the models. Yesterday had made a big difference to them all. Frozen in indecision at the beginning of proceedings the day before, they were relaxed and confident today.
Joe strode into the front room and went to his cameras. He picked up the nearest, holding it close.
His chest tightened, the haunting memories of his sister’s last days bombarding him.
Hayley had been about the same age as Riana when she’d fallen in love. As full as life. As optimistic and energetic, and as keen to have someone to love her for ever.
He hooked the camera over his neck, trying to dispel the harsh claws of his memories. ‘Okay, folks, let’s get this show on the road.’
If only he’d seen his younger sister’s distress over her boyfriend dumping her as serious. He’d brushed it off, giving her only the most cursory of consolations, a quick hug, a joke and what he had thought was a pep talk for the future. He couldn’t have imagined she’d have no future.
She’d been dumped before—it hadn’t been the first time. If only he’d realised that those times were different.
Joe looked through his camera. ‘More light. I need more light,’ he barked, his voice heavy with the weight of his guilt.
His little sister had hidden herself away in her place after he’d flown out, apparently drinking and smoking, sinking into a deep despair.
If he’d known he would have done something. Anything, to shake her out of her tunnel vision of misery, but he’d been in Bali covering a bathing suit spread, furthering his career, which at the time had seemed far more pressing than holding his sister’s hand through her break-up.
‘Let’s get this moving,’ he yelled, training his camera on the curtains. He snapped the tall blonde as she came through the curtain, radiant in a shimmering white satin gown trimmed with lace and studded with pearls that caught the lights.
‘It’s your wedding day,’ he barked at the girl. ‘Smile like it is. Smile knowing you’re going to marry the man you love and he loves you.’
Hayley hadn’t been able to see past that bloke not wanting her. Certain he had been the only man that she could ever love. And he hadn’t loved her.
‘Work it.’ Joe snapped again and again, staring at the girl in her wedding gown through the lens. She was good. He could almost believe she was going to marry someone today.
Ücretsiz ön izlemeyi tamamladınız.
