“Zach.” She squeezed his hands. “I love you, too.”
Relief flooded his features and he rested his forehead against hers. “Thank God. Because this is bigger and more terrifying than anything I’ve ever known.”
A laugh trilled out of her. “Yes. I’m glad to know I’m not alone.”
“You’ll never be alone again.” He raised his head and his love rained down on her. “Watching you walk down that aisle to me felt more right than anything else in my life. I love you, Lindsay Reeves. Will you marry me?”
“Yes.” No hesitation, no need to think. Her misery had come from that same sense of rightness. She longed to spend the rest of her life with this man. “I would love to marry you.”
“Right now?” His brown gaze danced with love and mischief.
She blinked at him. “What?”
“Will you marry me right now, in this beautiful chapel we refashioned together?”
Her mind slowly grasped what he wanted, and then her heart soared with excited anticipation. Still, she couldn’t get married without her mother. “What about our friends and family?”
“We can have a lavish ceremony back in the States. As big as you want. But I don’t want to wait to claim you as mine. So I made sure everyone who truly matters is here.”
He stepped back to reveal the chapel filled with people. She saw Louisa sandwiched between Nico and Vincenzo. Raffaele and Daniella sat next to Eva and Mario. Alonso and Serena were here instead of on the road. And many more of the townspeople she’d met and worked with over the past month filled the pews, including the King and Queen of Halencia.
And standing with the grinning priest was Prince Antonio and...her mother.
“Mom?”
“I knew you’d want her here.” Zach’s hand rested warm and familiar in the small of her back.
“You must have been planning this for days.”
“It’s the only thing that’s kept me sane.” He lifted her chin, his mouth settling on hers in restrained urgency. When he raised his head, his eyes gleamed with the heat of desire, the steadfastness of love. “Shall we do this?”
She nodded slowly. “Yes.”
Her answer ignited a flurry of activity. Antonio stepped forward while her mother grabbed her hand and hustled her back down the aisle and out the door. In an instant she was in her mom’s arms being hugged hard.
“I’m so happy for you, baby. Zach is a force of nature. If he loves you anywhere near as much as his actions indicate, you will have a long and joyous marriage.” She sighed. “For all my marriages, I’ve never had anyone look at me with so much love.”
Lindsay was too excited to have her mother here to care that her special day had circled around to focus on her mom’s feelings.
“I’m so glad you’re here. You look beautiful.” Her mom wore a lovely, pale green silk suit that went well with her upswept brown hair and green eyes. “And you’re wrong. Matt looks at you like that. You’ve just been too focused on yourself to notice.”
“Lindsay!” her mother protested, but a speculative glint entered her eyes. “I’ll let that slide. We need to get you ready.”
“I think I’m as ready as we have time for.” Lindsay glanced down at her flowing ivory dress that came to just below her knees in the front and to her ankles in the back and knew she’d been set up. Serena had insisted the dress was perfect for today; business moving into party mode. Of everything she owned this would have been her choice for an impromptu wedding gown.
“Oh, we have time for a few special touches.” Darlene pulled Lindsay around the side of the chapel where a full-length, gold-framed mirror leaned against the side of the building, next to it was a garment rack with a flow of tulle over one end and a stack of shelves hanging from the other.
“Something old.” From the shelves her mother lifted out a set of pearl-and-sapphire earrings.
“Grandma’s earrings.” Darlene had worn them for her first wedding and Lindsay recalled saying wistfully she’d wear them at her wedding someday. Her mother had remembered. Her hands shook a little as she put them on.
“Something new.” A beaded belt and matching shoes adorned in pearls and crystals shimmered in the late-afternoon sun. While Lindsay traded her sandals for the high-heeled pumps, Darlene stepped behind her and clipped it into place at her waist. They both fit perfectly.
“Something borrowed.” Mom smiled. “I saved this because you loved it so much.” The tulle turned out to be a full-length veil scalloped on the edges in delicate pearl-infused embroidery. “Close your eyes and face the mirror.”
Lindsay’s heart expanded; she hadn’t realized her mother had been paying such close attention to her reactions through the years. She closed her eyes against a well of tears while Darlene fussed with the veil and the lovely floral hair clip that went with it.
Next she felt a rouge brush dust over her cheeks and some gloss being dabbed on her lips. A tissue caught an escaping tear.
“You can open your eyes.”
Lindsay did and was amazed to find a beautiful bride staring back at her. “Mom.”
“You’re stunning, baby.”
Lindsay nodded. She felt stunning and ready to begin her life with Zach.
“Let’s go. Your man is waiting.”
Rounding the corner of the chapel, she spied the replica of the fountain from the plaza and thought of the wish she’d made with Zach. The wish for true love had been meant for Antonio and Christina. Lindsay supposed she’d been pushing it to make a wish for another couple, but she couldn’t be disappointed that fate had chosen to grant true love to her and Zach.
This time when she walked down the aisle her mother escorted her and Lindsay’s heart swelled with joy as her gaze locked with Zach’s. He’d changed into the suit he’d been wearing when they’d met and she loved the symbolism of the gesture. He knew her so well.
There was no shaking as she placed her hand in his, just a surety of purpose, a promise to always be there for him. The warmth and steadiness of his grip was the same as it had been earlier and she recognized he’d always be her rock. She suddenly realized something she’d missed when taking in the surprise he’d given her.
“What about your parents?” she whispered.
“They couldn’t make it.”
“I’m sorry.” And angry. His parents didn’t deserve him.
“Pixie—” he cupped her cheek “—you’re all the family I need.”
Her throat closed on a swell of emotion. She swallowed and pledged. “I love you.”
“I can’t wait for you to be my wife.”
“Ahem.” Antonio placed his hand on Zach’s shoulder. “The priest is waiting.”
“Right.” Love and anticipation bright in his gaze, he gave the nod. “We’re ready, Father.”
“We are gathered together on this glorious day which the Lord hath made, to witness the joining of Zachary Sullivan and Lindsay Reeves, who have been blessed with God’s greatest of all gifts, the gift of abiding love and devotion between a man and woman...”
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from PROPOSAL AT THE WINTER BALL by Jessica Gilmore.
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Proposal at the Winter Ball
by Jessica Gilmore
CHAPTER ONE
‘A GLASS OF white wine and make it a large one.’ Flora sank onto the low leather seat and slumped forward, banging her forehead against the distressed oak table a couple of times. She sat back up and slouched back in her chair. ‘Please,’ she added, catching a quizzical gleam in Alex’s eyes.
‘Bad day?’ He held up a hand and just like that the waiter glided effortlessly through the crowds of office-Christmas-party escapees and Friday-night drinkers towards their table, tucked away in the corner as far from the excited pre-Christmas hubbub as they could manage. Flora could have waved in the waiter’s general direction for an hour and he would have ignored her the whole time but Alex had the knack of procuring service with just a lift of a brow; taxis, waiters, upgrades on flights. It was most unfair.
What was it about Alex that made people—especially women—look twice? His messy curls were more russet than brown, his eyes undecided between green and grey and freckles liberally splattered his slightly crooked nose. And yet the parts added up to a whole that went a long way beyond plain attractive.
But then Alex was charmed—while Flora’s fairy godmother must have been down with the flu on the day her gifts were handed out. Flora waited not too patiently, ready to finish her tale of woe, while Alex ordered their drinks. A humiliation shared was a humiliation halved, right?
Finally the waiter turned away and she could launch back in. ‘Bad day I could cope with but it’s been a bad week. I think I’m actually cursed. Monday was the office manager’s birthday and she brought in doughnuts. I bit into mine and splat. Raspberry jam right down the front of my blouse. Of course it was my nicest white silk,’ she added bitterly.
‘Poor Flora.’ His mouth tilted with amusement and she glared at him. He was still in his work suit and yet looked completely fresh. Yep, unfairly charmed in ways that were completely wasted on a male. Flora’s seasonally green wool dress was stain free today but she still had that slightly sticky, crumpled, straight-from-work feel and was pretty sure it showed...
‘And then yesterday I left work with my skirt tucked into my knickers. No, don’t laugh.’ She reached across the table and prodded him, his chest firm under her fingers. ‘I didn’t realise for at least five minutes and...’ this was the worst part; her voice sank in shame ‘...I wasn’t even wearing nice knickers. Thank goodness for fifteen-denier tights.’
Alex visibly struggled to keep a straight face. ‘Maybe nobody noticed. It’s winter, surely you had a coat on?’
‘I was wearing a jacket. A short jacket. And judging by the sniggering the whole of Holborn noticed. But even that was better...’ Flora stopped short and buried her face in her hands, shame washing over her as she mentally relived the horror of just an hour ago.
‘Better than?’ Alex leaned back as the waiter returned carrying a silver circular tray, smiling his thanks as the man put a pint in front of him and a large glass of wine in front of Flora. She picked up the glass, gratefully taking a much-needed gulp, the cold tartness a welcome relief.
‘Better than tonight. I didn’t mean to...’ The old phrase tripped off her tongue. Flora’s mother always said that they would be her last words, carved onto her grave.
Here lies Flora Prosperine Buckingham.
She didn’t mean to.
‘I was just so relieved to see a seat I all out ran for it only I threw myself in a little too vigorously, misjudged and I ended up... I ended up sitting on a strange man’s knee.’
She glared at Alex as he choked on his pint. ‘It’s not funny! The whole carriage just stared at me and the man said...’ She stumbled over the words, her cheeks heating at the memory. ‘He said, “Make yourself comfortable, pet. I like a girl with plenty to grab hold of.”’
She took another gulp, ignoring the guffaws of laughter opposite. The words had stung more than she cared to admit. So she was tall with hips and a bosom that her mother called generous and her kinder friends described as curvy? In the nineteen fifties she would have been bang on trend but right now in the twenty-first century she just felt that bit too tall, that bit too wide, that bit too conspicuous.
Of course, sitting on a strange man’s lap in a crowded Tube carriage hadn’t helped her blend in. There had probably been people from her office in that very carriage on that very train, witnesses to her humiliation. Thank goodness her contract ended next week, although the thought of even one week of whispers and sniggers was bad enough; if only she could get a convenient dose of flu and call in sick. A week of rest, recuperation and isolation was exactly what she needed.
Though sick days meant no pay. Flora sighed. It was no fun temping.
Alex finally stopped laughing. ‘That was very friendly of you. So you’ve made a new friend?’
‘No!’ She shuddered, still feeling an itch in the exact spots where the large hands had clasped her. ‘The worst thing was I just had to sit there and pretend nothing had happened. No, not on his lap, idiot! On the seat next to him. I’m surprised I didn’t spontaneously combust with mortification.’
How she would ever get back onto that Tube, onto that line, even onto the entire underground network again she had no idea. Maybe she could walk to work? It would only take a couple of hours—each way.
‘Will you go back there after Christmas?’ It was as if he had read her mind. Alex was far too good at that.
Flora shook her head. ‘No, I was covering unexpected sick leave and she should be back after the holidays. Luckily January is always a good time for temps. All those people who decide to carpe diem on New Year’s Eve or do something outrageous at the Christmas party.’
‘Come on, Flora, is that your grand plan? Another year temping? Isn’t it time you carpe diem yourself? Look, it’s been two years since you were made redundant. I know it stung but shouldn’t you be back in the saddle by now?’
Flora put her glass firmly on the table, blinking back the sudden and very unwanted tears. ‘It’s not that easy to find design work and at least this way I’m paying the bills. And no...’ she put up her hand as he opened his mouth ‘... I am not moving in with you and I am not moving back home. I don’t need charity. I can do this on my own.’
Besides, it wasn’t as if she wasn’t trying. Since she had been made redundant from her job at a large but struggling pub chain she had sent out her portfolio to dozens of designers, retail head offices and agencies. She had also looked for freelance work, all too aware how hard it was to land an in-house position.
Most hadn’t even bothered to reply.
Alex regarded her levelly. ‘I’m not planning on offering you charity. I’m actually planning to offer you a job.’
Again. Flora swallowed, a lump roughly the size of the Titanic lodging itself in her throat. Just great. It wasn’t that she envied Alex his incredible success; she didn’t spend too much time comparing the in-demand, hotshot team of architects he headed up with her own continuing search for work. She tried not to dwell on the contrast between his gorgeous Primrose Hill Georgian terrace, bought and renovated to his exact design, and her rented room a little further out in the far ends of North London.
But she wished he wouldn’t try and help her. She didn’t need his pity. She needed him to believe in her.
‘Look,’ she said, trying to stop her voice from wobbling. ‘I do appreciate you offering me work, just like I appreciate Mum needing a runner or Dad an assistant every time I’m between contracts. But if I learned anythin
g from the three years I was with Village Inns it’s that mingling the personal and the professional only leads to disaster.’
It could have been a coincidence that she was made redundant shortly after breaking up with the owner’s son and heir apparent but she doubted it.
And yes, right now life was a struggle. And it was more than tempting to give in and accept the helping hands her family and best friend kept holding out to her. But if she did then she would just confirm their belief that she couldn’t manage on her own.
At least a series of humiliating, weird or dull temp jobs kept her focused on getting out and getting on.
‘I’m not offering you a role out of pity. I actually really need you. I need your help.’ His mouth quirked into a half-smile.
Flora gaped at him. Had she heard right? The cheesy blend of Christmas tunes was already pretty loud and amplified even more by the group at the bar who were singing along a little too enthusiastically. ‘You need me?’
That potentially changed everything.
‘You know the hotel I designed in Austria?’
Did she know about the high-profile, high-concept boutique hotel Alex had designed for the über-successful, über-exclusive Lusso Group? ‘You might have mentioned it once or twice.’
‘I’ve been offered an exclusive contract to design their next three. They pick stunning natural locations, like everything to be as eco-friendly and locally sourced as possible and each resort has an entirely unique look and vibe. It’s a fantastic project to work on. Only the designer I used for Austria has just accepted a job with a rival hotel brand and can’t continue working with me.’
This was a lot bigger than the small jobs he had been pushing her way for the last two years. It was too big to be a pity offering; his own reputation was at stake as well. Hope mingled with pride and for the first time in a long, long time Flora felt a smidgen of optimism for her future.
The Best Man & The Wedding Planner Page 18