She was wearing a long, flowing velvet skirt in richest burgundy and a floaty white chiffon shirt. With it she wore a matching burgundy bodice which fitted as closely as a glove, with lots of tiny, velvet-covered buttons all the way down the front. Her hair flowed like a river of copper curls down her back, caught back from her face by two tortoiseshell combs. With her white skin and emerald eyes, he thought that she looked as if she had stepped out of a painting from another century.
‘Luke, please...’ she pleaded, without knowing what it was she was asking him for.
He gave a low laugh tinged with passion and power. He had her right where he wanted her. ‘What?’ he whispered again, and Holly was too befuddled to hear the mocking tone which coloured his voice.
Luke turned his attention to the bodice, snapping open first one button and then another, making a small groan of frustration beneath his breath as he saw just how many buttons there were. This was going to take for ever and he didn’t want to wait. He wanted to tear the clothes from her body, to reveal those lush, creamy breasts and then to take them in his mouth and suckle them. Bite them and tease them until her head was thrown back and through dry lips she would be demanding that he take her, take away the remorseless aching.
‘God, your breasts are beautiful,’ he breathed, as another button flew open.
‘O-oh.’ She stumbled, as his thumb brushed over the velvet, tantalising the nub which was thrusting against the thick material.
‘Don’t you ever wear a bra?’ he wanted to know, his excitement rocketing as his fingers realised that there was no scrap of silk or lace to restrain them....
‘Never,’ she managed weakly. Her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as they moved possessively over his broad back, moving beneath his jacket and wantonly caressing the warm flesh through the silken shirt.
‘Don’t you know how much it turns men on?’ he managed, finding that he wanted to outrageously demand that she always wore one in future. Unless she was with him... He pulled his mouth away from hers then, fighting for sanity through the mists of his desire. He would have to take her upstairs right now, because if he didn’t...
A sudden banging at the door was like having a bucket of iced water hurled over her, and Holly found herself swaying in Luke’s arms, blinking up at him in confusion.
‘W-what’s that?’
Luke had razor-sharp reflexes which had been honed over years of working in the reserve, and he had swiftly rebuttoned Holly’s bodice and straightened it almost before she realised what was happening.
‘You have a customer,’ he mocked her darkly. ‘Remember? This is a shop.’
And Holly looked towards the door in dismay, where a stocky young woman stood looking in. Her eyes flickered towards Luke’s face for some kind of reassurance, but none was forthcoming. His features displayed all the disgust she might have expected from a man she had almost let make love to her in public. Oh, Lord, what had she done?
‘Hadn’t you better let her in?’ asked Luke, his voice as distant as the wind.
And Holly went to unlock the door.
CHAPTER TEN
HOLLY’S first thought was that the young woman who stood outside didn’t look a bit like a bride-to-be. Not just because she was plump—although plump brides tended to buy their dresses in the safe, anonymous atmosphere of the department store rather than specialist shops. Or because she wore no glittering engagement ring—lots of women chose not to wear those. Caroline, had not worn one, she remembered, wincing.
No, it was the woman’s general expression of harassment—she looked flustered and out of breath, and carried none of the satisfied glow of a woman about to choose her wedding dress.
‘Are you sure you’re open?’ she asked, as Holly pulled the door open, her soft cheeks growing pink. And Holly found herself blushing too, as she wondered just how much of that passionate little bout with Luke the woman had witnessed. And speaking of Luke...
She glanced over her shoulder. Why was he still standing exactly where she had left him, like a dark, immovable force? Their eyes met—his still angry and glittering with frustration, while Holly felt totally compromised by that outrageously effective demonstration of his sexual skills. He had ruthlessly manipulated her, almost... almost... She glared at him but still he didn’t budge.
‘Yes, of course we’re open,’ smiled Holly brightly. ‘Do come in.’
‘Thanks.’ The woman stepped into the shop and looked around, but again and again her attention kept coming back to the spotlit dress in the window.
Close up, Holly could see her plumpness couldn’t detract from the most beautiful pair of dark blue eyes she had ever seen, with lashes so long you could have hung your washing from them. Her skin was all berries and cream, and she had a thick head of glossy black hair caught back in an old-fashioned chignon.
‘I’m Holly Lovelace,’ said Holly, holding out her hand.
The woman smiled and an irrepressible dimple appeared in her right cheek. ‘Is that your real name?’
Holly nodded. ‘It really is!’
‘I’m Ursula O’Neil. Pleased to meet you.’
‘And I’m Luke Goodwin,’ came a silky dark voice from behind them.
Ursula turned round and beamed. ‘Hello,’ she said shyly.
‘What sort of thing are you looking for?’ asked Holly, glowering at Luke.
‘Well, it’s a bit difficult to explain.. ’
Holly asked her stock question for dithering brides. ‘How do you see yourself on your wedding day?’
The woman shook her head. ‘Oh, no! I’m not getting married. It’s a bit of a funny old story...’
Glad to be distracted from Luke’s brooding figure, and intrigued by the woman’s hesitation, Holly gestured towards the velvet sofa. ‘Look, why don’t you sit down,’ she suggested ‘and tell me all about it?’
The woman looked across the shop at Luke. ‘I don’t want to disturb anything—’
‘You aren’t disturbing anything—honestly,’ interjected Holly quickly—much too quickly, really. ‘Luke was just going, weren’t you, Luke?’
He gave her a bland smile as their eyes met. ‘Actually no.’ He smiled. ‘I think I’ll stay.’
Holly threw him a warning look. She wanted him out. Now! For how could she concentrate on anything when he was standing there like some dark, avenging angel, with that arrogant half-smile serving as a constant reminder of what they had been doing just a few moments ago?
‘But the customer might prefer to speak to me in private,’ she said icily.
Luke turned a hundred-watt smile on the woman and Holly knew immediately that she wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of resisting him. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Ursula?’
Obediently the woman shook her head at him, melting under the impact of that mega-watt dazzle. ‘No, I don’t mind at all.’ She settled herself on the velvet sofa, but her attention remained focussed on the window and she laced her fingers together nervously, before taking a deep breath. ‘That dress you have in the window...’
Holly looked at her encouragingly as her words tailed off. ‘Yes?’
‘Is it... is it a very old dress?’
Holly looked at her in surprise. ‘No, it isn’t.’
‘How old?’
‘Well, I made it earlier this year.’
‘You made it?’
Holly blinked. ‘Yes, I did.’
‘I see.’ Ursula’s face crumpled with disappointment and she began digging around in her handbag, eventually extracting a scrunched up tissue and loudly blowing her nose.
‘Is something wrong?’ asked Holly gently.
Ursula shook her head. ‘No, nothing’s wrong. It’s just that I saw a picture of it in the newspaper, and I thought... I thought...’
‘What did you think?’ interposed Holly quietly.
‘It looks exactly the same as a wedding dress my mother bought,’ Ursula gulped, like a woman about to burst into tears. ‘But of course it can’t be!’<
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‘No, it can’t be.’ Holly paused, then frowned as the facts began to piece themselves together in her mind like a jigsaw. ‘This dress that your mother bought—when was that exactly? Can you remember?’
Ursula shrugged her fleshy shoulders. ‘It’d be over twenty years ago now.’ Her voice softened. ‘It was in a sale at the big London store she worked in. She queued all night in the rain to buy it. It was for me, and for my sister—we were each to wear it when we got married...’
‘And what happened to it?’
Ursula lifted her head proudly and looked Holly straight in the eye. ‘My father died, and we had no money.’ Her voice faltered. ‘So she sold it. She put an advert in the paper. She had to. It broke my mother’s heart to see it go.’ She shrugged, her voice wobbling a little. ‘But what use is a fine dress in the cupboard when there’s no food on the table?’
‘No use at all,’ said Luke slowly, and they both turned round to look at him, as though they had forgotten he was there. But Luke, it seemed, had all the answers. ‘Your mother bought the original dress, you see, Ursula.’
‘Yes, of course she did!’ breathed Holly slowly.
‘I’m sorry?’ Ursula looked at them both in confusion. ‘I don’t understand what it is you’re saying.’
‘That dress you see in the window, yes, I designed and made it,’ explained Holly. ‘But I based the design on one of my mother’s original sketches—because she was a dress designer, too, and it was one of her favourite gowns. And your mother must have bought my mother’s dress! Now do you see?’
‘Heavens!’ said Ursula.
Holly smiled. ‘So, although the two dresses aren’t exactly the same, they’re very, very similar.’
Ursula stood up and moved closer to the window to look at the dress, her eyes as wide as saucers, like a child taken to the ballet for the very first time. ‘Yes, they are,’ she agreed. ‘Very similar. Dear me, it’s unbelievable!’ She was silent for a moment as she stared at the soft satin. ‘The dress used to hang in the wardrobe in our bedroom and we were allowed to look at it and touch it, but only through the plastic. Except on our birthdays, when she used to take it out of its covering and we were allowed a proper look at it. Oh, how we loved that dress!’
‘And did your mother never even try it on?’ asked Holly. ‘Just to see what it looked like?’
Ursula shook her head. ‘It was a tiny dress, and she was a big woman.’ She glanced down at her generous curves with a rueful expression. ‘Like me. She used to say that she wouldn’t even be able to squeeze her fingers into the sleeves! But it would fit my sister, and she’s getting married soon. It may not be the original, but it’s the next best thing. That’s why I came here today.’ She pulled a purse from her bag as if she were about to start bartering down at the market and gave Holly a huge smile. ‘To buy it.’
Holly didn’t know what to say. Or rather she did, but she wasn’t sure how best to phrase it without sounding cruel or hurtful.
‘How much is it, please?’ asked Ursula.
Holly shook her head. ‘But I’m afraid it isn’t for sale.’
Ursula frowned. ‘I don’t understand. It’s in the window—’
‘Yes, I know it is. But didn’t you read the whole article? It’s a bit of a stunt. I’ve only just opened the shop, and I’m offering the wedding dress as the prize in a draw. So, although you can’t buy it, you’re very welcome to enter into the draw to win it.’
Ursula bit her lip. ‘But what if I don’t win?’
‘Well, if your sister desperately wants that particular design, then I can have one made up—but she won’t be able to wear it until March.’
‘March?’ queried Ursula. ‘But Amber is getting married in February! How come?’
Holly sighed. ‘Because the bridal magazine who sponsored the competition are doing a whole big feature on the dress in the March edition—and part of the deal was that, if I sold it, then it could not be worn until after that edition has hit the shelves. They want the feature to have maximum impact, you see.’
‘That would be a pretty difficult rule to enforce,’ Luke reflected.
Holly frowned at him. ‘Yes, I know it would! But it would be pretty churlish not to abide by the competition rules, wouldn’t it? Especially as their prize money financed my business in the first place!’
His eyes were thoughtful as they rested on Holly. ‘You mean you’ll abide by the spirit of the law as opposed to the letter?’
‘That’s exactly what I mean!’
Ursula gave a resigned shrug. ‘Oh, well, then. I guess I’ll put my name in the hat with the rest of them and say a prayer or two! It would be great to have the dress, even if Amber won’t be able to wear it.’
‘Do you have no idea who your mother sold the original to?’ Luke asked.
Ursula shook her head. ‘No idea at all. Mum kept it all pretty hush-hush. Selling off your possessions because you were short of money wasn’t something you shouted from the rooftops—not where I came from, anyway.’
‘And where’s that?’ queried Luke.
‘South London. I live on the opposite side of town, these days.’
Luke nodded. ‘And how are you getting back there tonight?’
Ursula shook her head. ‘I’m not. I’ve booked in at The Bell. I don’t like these country roads at night.’
‘I don’t blame you,’ he said.
‘Here.’ Holly handed her one of the entry forms and Ursula filled in her name and address, then dropped it into the red satin box.
Afterwards she shook hands with both of them. ‘It’s been great meeting you both! And thank you for your help,’ she said. ‘Even if I don’t win, it was interesting to learn a bit more of the dress’s history.’
‘I’ll tell my mother when I next see her,’ promised Holly. ‘She usually turns up in England for Christmas!’
‘I’d like to tell mine,’ said Ursula with a sad smile. ‘But she died a long time ago.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Holly. On an impulse, she picked up one of her cards from the counter and thrust it into Ursula’s hand. ‘If you ever need a wedding dress, then you know where I am.’
Ursula smiled. ‘Thanks—but I’m hoping I might win that one!’
Holly hoped so, too—though she couldn’t see what use it would be if she did. The prize-winning dress would never fit Ursula, and her sister would be getting married before it could legitimately be worn...
There was silence in the shop once she had gone, and it took every bit of Holly’s courage to turn to Luke and say, ‘Is that everything? Only I don’t want to keep you.’
‘Everything?’ He laughed, but it was an angry, bitter kind of laugh, as though Ursula leaving the shop had negated any need for him to be pleasant to her. ‘Sweetheart, I haven’t even started yet. We may have just been treated to a touching story, but nothing has changed. Think back to what we were doing before Ursula arrived, Holly.’
Her cheeks flamed, even as her heart began to pick up speed. That was the last thing she wanted to do. ‘Luke, I really think it’s best if you go.’
‘I’m sure you do. And we must always do what’s best for Holly Lovelace, mustn’t we?’ A muscle began to work convulsively in his cheek. ‘But damn the rest of the world, isn’t that right?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ She made to turn away but he wouldn’t let her, grabbing her by the arm, and even that rough contact made her blood sing.
‘Don’t you?’ He was staring deeply into her eyes, and Holly seemed paralysed, rooted to the ground, mesmerised by the magic of that dark denim-blue gaze.
’N-no.’
‘Oh, I think you do, Holly. Be honest now.’
‘I don’t.’ He was still holding tightly onto her arm, his expression a mixture of disdain and desire, and yet still she remained fixed to the spot. ‘Let me go,’ she protested ineffectually.
‘No.’ He tipped his gold-brushed head to one side and gave her a long, consideri
ng look. ‘See what it feels like when someone takes control? You should do—after all, you’re the ultimate control freak, aren’t you, Holly? You decided that you wanted me, didn’t you? You wanted me real bad and you weren’t going to let anything as inconvenient as a fiancée in your way. That, presumably, is why you told her that we’d been sleeping together—’
‘Luke, don’t—’
‘Don’t what?’ He raised his eyebrows mockingly. ‘Don’t tell the truth? But why ever not, Holly? Does the truth make you feel uncomfortable? And it is the truth, isn’t it, Holly? Isn’t it?’
‘Y-yes,’ she admitted brokenly. ‘Partly.’
He nodded. ‘Yes, I know what you mean—and it is only part of the truth, because of course we haven’t slept together, have we, Holly? Not yet.’
His words sent shivers down her spine. ‘That wasn’t what I meant. Luke—’
‘After all,’ he interrupted remorselessly, ‘you’ve got what you want now, haven’t you? Caroline is off the scene. You made damn sure of that—’
‘Caroline has gone?’
His mouth shaped itself into a cruel curve. ‘Yes, she’s gone!’ he mimicked ruthlessly. ‘Of course she’s gone! Or did you imagine that she would hang around hoping that we could all have a cosy little threesome?’
‘Don’t be so disgusting!’ she snapped.
‘Oh, I can get a lot more disgusting than that, sweetheart!’ he vowed, and Holly wondered how his pitiless words had managed to produce the tantalising excitement which was currently tiptoeing its way up her spine.
‘But you probably like it that way, don’t you?’ he persisted. ‘Isn’t that what you got up to at art school? Threesomes? Perversions are all the rage, surely—and it would be so incredibly bourgeois not to join in, don’t you think?’
‘I don’t have to stay here and listen to this!’ she snapped, making to pull away from him, but he caught her other arm to pull her against his chest. His mouth descended on hers and all his anger and frustration and pent-up desire exploded in a fever of need which only matched hers.
One Bridegroom Required! Page 12