The Wedding-Night Affair (Harlequin Presents)

by Miranda Lee

  ‘If you’re still worried about my fainting,’ she said, ‘then please don’t. Neither my health—nor me—are your responsibility. Not till you sign me up for your wedding, that is. After that, you might like to keep me out of bed.’

  His left brow arched slightly and Fiona realised what she’d said. Her eyes met his full on, and whilst her heart was racing madly her face remained superbly composed. No way was she going to let Philip rattle her any more with his sarcasm, spoken or unspoken!

  ‘If you insist,’ he said drily. ‘I’ll get Corinne to ring you this evening, before eight-thirty. And I’ll drop in to your office tomorrow. Say around noon?’

  ‘Must you?’ she said painfully. ‘I’ll trust you over the fee if you’ll trust me over the contract. We can see to the business side of things at some later date.’

  ‘Is there some reason why you don’t want me to visit you at your office?’

  Fiona groaned silently at Philip’s cynical tone and suspicious face. He didn’t believe her about Owen. He probably thought she’d slept her way into her partnership at Five-Star Weddings and that she spent every second minute having sex on Owen’s desk.

  ‘I can’t think of any,’ she returned frostily. ‘I was just trying to make things easy for you. You must be a very busy man, what with all those successful cases you’ve defended lately.’

  ‘Not so busy that I can’t take some time to make sure my wedding day is a resounding success. I would like to see some of those letters of recommendation you mentioned, along with that portfolio of photographs. Afterwards, if everything is as you say, then I’ll take you to lunch and you can run a few ideas by me.’

  Inside Fiona, everything fluttered wildly. Outside, she looked perfectly calm. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said coolly, ‘but I don’t do business that way.’

  ‘Would Owen object if I took you to lunch?’

  ‘No, but Corinne. might.’

  He laughed. ‘I doubt it. We don’t have that kind of relationship.’

  ‘What kind is that?’

  ‘Possessive. Jealous.’

  ‘Really? What kind do you have?’

  ‘The kind which will last. The kind which is soundly based on shared goals and things in common rather than some fleeting passion.’

  ‘Sounds pretty boring to me.’

  ‘Not at all. Corinne and I enjoy each other’s company a great deal. But we’re not compelled to rip each other’s clothes off every time we meet.’

  Fiona flinched at the reminder of just how passionate their relationship had once been. Whenever they’d been alone, they simply hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. They hadn’t been able to get naked quickly enough.

  ‘Not that Corinne and I aren’t very happy in bed,’ Philip swept on, his blue eyes glittering angrily. ‘We are. So there’s really no danger in your coming to lunch with me. I promise I won’t throw you back over the table and eat you up in a burst of sexual frustration.’

  Now Fiona flushed, his snarled words evoking another, far more explicit memory: that of Philip doing exactly what he’d just said. It hadn’t been a restaurant table, of course. It had been the richly polished walnut dining table in his father’s Double Bay apartment.

  She’d never felt anything like it, either before or since.

  She stared at him, and her treacherous heart took off. He glared back at her, his eyes hard and narrowed.

  ‘Noon tomorrow,’ he ground out. ‘Be there!’ And, whirling, he stalked from the room.

  Five seconds later, the front door banged. A few seconds further on, the Jag roared into life and took off.

  Fiona was sitting there, still stunned, when Kathryn came back into the room. ‘Don’t tell me Philip left without saying goodbye?’ She sounded both puzzled and hurt.

  Fiona had no idea why she spoke up to smooth over Philip’s rudeness, but she did. ‘He...he asked me to say goodbye to you for him. He suddenly remembered Corinne and said he had to dash.’

  Kathryn looked appeased. ‘Oh...oh, well, I suppose there’s not much he could do here, anyway. Men are so useless when it comes to things like weddings. Just tell them what to wear and point them in the direction of the church on the day. That’s about all you can do. But we wouldn’t be without them, would we?’ she added, smiling softly.

  ‘Er...no, I guess not. Thank you,’ she added, when Kathryn handed her a plate with a very tasty-looking sandwich on it, cut into dainty little triangles. She picked one up and took a bite, only then realising that her excuse for fainting was probably partially true. She hadn’t bothered with breakfast. She’d been too obsessed with getting her appearance just right.

  ‘I hope you don’t think I’m prying, dear,’ Kathryn said a little hesitatingly from where she’d sat down in the armchair Philip had vacated, ‘but this fainting business. You...er...couldn’t be in the family way, could you?’

  Fiona spluttered in shock.

  Finally, she gulped the mouthful of sandwich down, and tried to look calmer than she felt, ‘No, Kathryn,’ she managed. ‘No, I’m not. Definitely not.’ She’d always made sure nothing like that could ever happen to her again. Never, ever! She was secretly on the pill, as well as insisting any partner she had use protection.

  Kathryn nodded. ‘That’s good, then. I hope you’re not offended by my asking, but girls these days have babies all the time without a wedding ring on their finger. You said you had a boyfriend, so I thought...well...

  She smiled apologetically. ‘Still, you did say your friend was a doctor, didn’t you? Hopefully, a doctor would know better than to get his girlfriend pregnant.’

  ‘Hopefully,’ Fiona said, thinking how Mark was no more to be trusted than any other man when it came to using a condom. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d had to remind him.

  ‘The reason pregnancy popped into my mind,’ Kathryn went on, ‘is because I always fainted in the early weeks of my pregnancies.’

  Fiona blinked, then frowned. ‘Pregnancies? But I thought...’

  ‘Yes, Philip is my only child,’ Kathryn admitted. ‘But I had several miscarriages before I finally carried full term. My husband and I were warned not to have any more after Philip, so we didn’t.

  ‘A pity,’ she added softly. ‘An only child is never a good idea.’

  ‘Why? Because they get spoiled?’

  ‘Oh, no, Philip was never spoiled,’ she denied firmly. ‘Not in the slightest. Malcolm brought him up with a very firm hand. Unfortunately, my husband had a tendency to push and pressure the boy too much. Philip had to be the best at everything. School. Sport. Games. Given Philip’s equally strong will, it was a recipe for disaster.’

  ‘Disaster?’ Fiona echoed weakly.

  Kathryn shook her head. ‘I don’t like to think about that time any more. It’s too distressing. Enough to say that when Philip left home to live on campus at university, he rebelled. Amongst other things, he got this most unsuitable girl pregnant, then wanted to drop out of university to marry her.’

  ‘What...what happened?’ Fiona choked out, unable to take another bite of the sandwich in her hand.

  ‘She lost the baby. On their wedding day. Afterwards, Malcolm arranged for their marriage to be annulled. Oh, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but for some strange reason I feel like I can talk to you. You don’t mind, do you?’

  All Fiona could do was shake her head.

  Kathryn sighed. ‘I tell myself everything turned out for the best, especially now that Philip’s going to marry Corinne, but sometimes I wonder and worry about that poor girl. I didn’t treat her very well, and I regret that now. I hope things turned out all right for her too.’

  The room fell awkwardly silent, with Fiona’s emotions a mess. She ached to blurt out the truth, that she was that poor girl, but what good would such a confession do? Kathryn would be embarrassed, and possibly distressed. Philip would be furious with her. So would Owen.

  And she...she would be...what?

  Healed?


  The idea was laughable. Nothing would heal what had happened to her on that day. It had killed more than her baby. It had killed part of her soul.

  But it was still good to hear that Kathryn was sorry for how she’d treated her. Philip was right. She had changed.

  ‘It wasn’t just the girl I worried about,’ Kathryn went on, and Fiona stiffened. ‘It was Philip. He wasn’t the same afterwards. He lost interest in his studies. He just scraped through his exams that year. He even lost interest in girls. To be honest, I thought he would never fall in love again and marry. Eventually, he did start dating again. No one special, however. Or permanent...

  ‘But then he met Corinne,’ she continued, much more cheerily. ‘She’s just the girl for him. They get along so well. Never a cross word together. She’s so sweet. No one could ever be angry with her. Best of all, she wants what he wants. A family. Straight away too. That’s why their engagement is so short. She doesn’t care about a career. She just wants to be Philip’s wife and the mother of his children. She simply adores children.’

  Fiona forced herself to eat the rest of the sandwich, though it was like lead in her stomach.

  ‘I’m sorry, dear,’ Kathryn said. ‘I really shouldn’t be bothering you with this.’

  Fiona rallied with an effort. ‘No, no, it’s all right. I like to get to know the personal side of people whose weddings I work on. I suppose you’ll be wanting a big wedding?’

  ‘Oh, yes! I’ve waited this long to see my son happily married. Nothing’s too good for him. Or for Corinne.’

  ‘A church wedding?’ Fiona asked, automatically thinking of the small non-denominational church she and Philip had been married in. She’d worn a white suit, despite Kathryn’s pointedly hurtful remark about the inappropriateness of the colour.

  She hadn’t worn white since.

  ‘Actually, no,’ Kathryn said. ‘Philip insists on a celebrant and Corinne agreed. She said whatever he wanted was okay by her. She’s like that. Still, I suppose the garden here would be a nice setting for a wedding, come October,’ Kathryn said. ‘As long as it doesn’t rain.’

  ‘The wedding date’s in October?’

  ‘Yes, the last Sunday of the month. Corinne gets back from Indonesia the Friday night of that week.’

  ‘She won’t be jet-lagged?’

  ‘She says not. So, as you can see, we don’t have that much time.’

  ‘You’re right there. Well, first things first. The invitations.’ Fiona straightened her shoulders and slipped into her working persona, all brisk efficiency. ‘Have you prepared a guest list?’

  ‘Yes. I got Corinne to do that last weekend. I’m afraid it’s rather large. Just over two hundred.’

  ‘Don’t worry. They won’t all come. Has Corinne told you what she wants, or do you have carte blanche to make all decisions?’

  ‘I’m to make all the decisions. Corinne says she trusts my taste completely.’

  Fiona couldn’t make up her mind if this Corinne was clever, lazy, or just not too interested in her own wedding. She’d never known a bride like it. Still, maybe Philip’s fiancée was one of those rare creatures: a society girl who wasn’t vain, or spoiled, or selfish.

  ‘Naturally, Corinne wants to choose her wedding dress,’ Kathryn went on. ‘Though she said she’s happy to buy off-the-peg. Now you’ll have to get her right onto that. She leaves in just over a week, and finding the right dress can sometimes take days.’

  ‘I’ll get her right onto that tomorrow, Kathryn. Now don’t you worry. That’s my job, making sure the families of the bride and groom really enjoy the wedding and don’t end up having a nervous breakdown. People think of weddings as a happy time, but, believe me, they can be very stressful for those concerned. Things can get way out of hand.’

  ‘Yes, so I’ve heard. But I have a feeling my son’s wedding is going to be a wonderful experience with you at the helm, Fiona. Oh, I’m so glad you were recommended. I can already tell you’re going to be a godsend, and Philip’s wedding is going to be the talk of the town for years to come!’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  FIONA closed the door of her flat, locked it, turned the air-conditioning up to warm, in deference to the approaching evening, then moved with tired steps down the hallway and into her bedroom. There, she slumped down on the side of the bed, kicked off her shoes, and fell back sideways against the pillows, her feet lifting onto the soft duvet, her eyes closing.

  She’d never been so tired in all her life. It was only six o‘clock, but it felt as if she’d been up for a week. Mental and emotional exhaustion, she supposed.

  She could not move a muscle. She just lay there, mulling over everything that had happened that day.

  Nothing, Fiona finally decided, had worked out as she’d thought it would when she’d woken that morning. Except perhaps for Kathryn not recognising her. Now that she’d expected!

  But the woman herself had certainly come as a surprise. Fiona had found herself responding to Kathryn’s new warmth, whether she’d wanted to or not.

  Actually, once Philip had left, lunch and the afternoon had gone very well. If she’d been meeting his mother for the first time that day she would have liked her very much indeed. At sixty, Philip’s mother had become a surprisingly sweet person, easy to talk to, very reasonable and willing to listen.

  If it wasn’t for Philip, Fiona would have no problems doing this wedding.

  Unfortunately, Philip existed, not just in her memory now, but in reality. Worse, she was still attracted to him, whether she wanted to be or not. Circumstances and time could kill love, Fiona accepted ruefully, but it seemed sexual chemistry was not conducive to reason.

  Thank heavens she didn’t stir him the same way!

  Her earlier impression that her own unwanted feelings were mutual couldn’t be so, now that she thought about it. Philip had made it perfectly clear she was no longer his type. He didn’t like her being a brunette, or thinner. He certainly didn’t like her being a career woman. Or having a mind of her own.

  Probably that was what had irritated him so much: her being so different from how he remembered.

  Fiona thought about Noni for a moment, and the sort of the girl she’d been. A lot different from Fiona!

  Noni had been curvy and cuddly, with her bottle-blonde hair worn fluffed out and wavy and feminine. She’d dressed in short skirts and tight tops to show off what she’d thought was her simply ‘stunning’ figure.

  She shuddered now to think of it.

  But it hadn’t just been Noni’s physical attributes Philip had been attracted to, Fiona began to see. It had been Noni herself. Naive, dumb, easily impressed Noni, who’d thought her rich, hunky, clever boyfriend was almost god-like. Noni had adored Philip so much she’d have done anything for him.

  And she had in the end, she thought bitterly.

  Fiona was Noni’s opposite in every way. Smart, slimmed down and sophisticated, with sleek black hair and a not so amenable manner. She didn’t dress to be provocative, or seductive. Her clothes fitted the image she wanted to project: that of a businesswoman, with her career at the forefront of her mind, never a man.

  Fiona was willing to bet her bottom dollar that Corinne was the sweetly feminine and adoring type, who always deferred to Philip and made him feel ten feet tall. She would be on the voluptuous side, with long blonde hair. During the day she would wear flowing dresses, pink lipsticks and floral perfumes. At night she would display her curves in more glamorous gowns which, whilst not provocative, would still display her hour-glass figure and more than adequate bosom.

  Philip had always had a thing for breasts.

  The telephone ringing on her bedside table snapped Fiona out of her acid reverie. Frowning, she reached over to pick up the receiver, at the same time casting a quick glance at her watch. Only six-twenty. Could it be Corinne already? Hopefully, it wasn’t Mark. Or...God forbid...Philip.

  ‘Fiona Kirby,’ she said, in her best business voice.

 
‘So you’re home at last!’

  Fiona heaved a somewhat relieved sigh. ‘Yes, Owen. I’m home.’

  ‘I tried half an hour ago.’

  ‘I just got in.’

  ‘Well, how did it go? I’ve been dying to know. Couldn’t wait till the morning-’

  ‘It went well. I’ve got the job.’

  ‘What? You’ve got the job! So Mrs Forsythe doesn’t mind about...you know?’

  ‘She doesn’t mind because she didn’t recognise me and she doesn’t know.’

  Owen’s groan sounded tortured.

  ‘Don’t panic, Owen. My ex dropped in unexpectedly soon after I arrived, and, yes, he did recognise me. But he didn’t let on to his mother, so Mum’s the word, so to speak. He told me privately not to worry, to take the job and we’ll pretend we only just met for the first time today.’

  ‘Really? That was surprisingly nice of him. Still, you did say he was nice, didn’t you?’

  ‘I did. But, to be truthful, Philip’s not quite as nice as he used to be. He’s a hot-shot trial lawyer these days, with an attitude to match. Hiring me as his wedding co-ordinator is more a matter of diplomacy and expediency than niceness. For one thing, Mummy dearest was already impressed with the new me, and he didn’t want to disappoint her. On top of that, the wedding’s only ten weeks off, so they haven’t really got much time to shop around. Mrs Forsythe offered double our usual fee, I might add.’

  ‘My God, how did you manage that?’

  ‘Accidentally, I can assure you. I was trying to worm my way out of things in the beginning, and said I was very heavily booked at the moment. Mrs Forsythe immediately jumped in with the double fee offer. You know what rich people are like. They think they can buy anything.’

  ‘And they can, the lovely spoiled darlings!’ Owen gushed enthusiastically. ‘Double our usual fee! Wow, Fiona, that’s simply great!’

  ‘Don’t count your chickens, Owen. Philip’s dropping by the office tomorrow around noon. He wants to see my letters of recommendation and the portfolio of photographs before he puts his John Henry on the contract.’

  ‘That’ll be just a formality. No one has better credentials than you.’