A Bride for the Runaway Groom

by Wilson, Scarlet

‘Don’t you have a bride in waiting that can take you to hospital?’

  He scowled at her. ‘Not even funny, Rose. You work in PR, don’t you? Surely you know better than to believe everything you read in the papers?’

  His words were dripping with sarcasm. The nerve she’d apparently just touched ran deep.

  She folded her arms across her chest. ‘But I thought most of the time you sold those stories and worked them in your favour.’

  ‘What made you think that?’ he snapped.

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. The ten-page photo spreads in Exclusive magazine. How many of them have you featured in now?’

  He gritted his teeth together. ‘Not my idea.’

  It was good to see him uncomfortable. Waking up with a strange guy in your bed was horribly intimidating. To say nothing of the discomfort and embarrassment. What if she snored—or made strange noises in her sleep?

  And he still hadn’t answered the question about sleeping with her sister. What exactly was the deal? His eyes were still fixed furiously on her and the blood was soaking through his shirt. She decided to give him a little leeway.

  She gestured towards him. ‘What about you? You can’t wear that shirt. Where are your clothes?’

  He wrinkled his nose. ‘I’m not sure. I ran in here at the last minute yesterday. I think my bag might be in Violet’s room.’

  ‘Violet’s room?’ She said it bluntly, hoping he’d take the hint and decide he should go there. But if he did, he ignored it.

  ‘Yeah, would you mind running along and grabbing something for me?’ He had that smile on his face. The one that was usually plastered all over the front page of a magazine, or on his face when he was charming some reporter. It was almost as if someone had flicked a little switch and he’d just fallen into his default position. His voice and smile washed over her like a warm summer’s day. Boy, this guy was good. But she was determined not to fall for his charms.

  ‘I will. But only because I’ve probably scarred you for life. I’m not Violet. I’m not your best friend—or your bed buddy. Once I’ve taken you to the hospital, we’re done. Are we clear?’

  His Mediterranean-sea-blue eyes lost all their warmth. ‘Crystal.’ He waited until she’d reached the door before he added, ‘And you’re right. You’re not Violet.’

  * * *

  He watched her retreating back as she stomped out of the door. His head was definitely muggy and he wasn’t quite sure if it was from the alcohol last night or the head injury this morning.

  Part of him felt guilty, part of him felt enraged and part of him was cringing.

  Last night was a bit of a blur. He’d just made it to the wedding on time and hadn’t eaten a thing beforehand. His charity commitments were hectic and he was anxious not to let people down, which meant he’d been pulling on his tie and jacket in the sprawling car park at Hawksley Castle. A business call had come in just as dinner had arrived so he’d missed most of that, too. Then the party had truly started. And Violet had mentioned something about staying in her room as she’d fluttered past in her yellow and white bridesmaid dress.

  A bridesmaid dress he’d definitely seen on the floor as he’d stumbled into the room. She’d been sleeping peacefully with her back to him and he hadn’t even thought to wake her. Actually, he knew better. If he’d shaken Violet awake to let her know he was there she would have killed him with her bare hands.

  Maybe the sisters had more in common than he thought?

  It was strange. He’d never once considered Violet in a romantic sense. They’d clicked as friends from the start. Good friends. Nothing more. Nothing less.

  He trusted her. Which was a lot more than he could say of some people. She gave it to him straight. There was no flirting, nothing ambiguous. Just plenty of laughs, plenty of support and plenty of ear bashing.

  But Violet’s identical twin... Well, she was a whole different story.

  It didn’t matter they looked so similar it was scary. They were two totally different people. No wonder they got annoyed when people mixed them up. And you couldn’t get much more of a blunder than the one he’d just made.

  But it wasn’t the blunder that was fixating in his head. It was that little missing mole on her left shoulder. The memory of her skin beneath the palm of his hand. And the site of her tanned skin and rounded backside when she’d turned to get dressed. They seemed to have imprinted on his brain. Every time he squeezed his eyes shut, that was the picture he saw inside his head.

  He stood up and walked over to the en suite bathroom. He grimaced when he saw his face. It was hardly a spectacular sight. His shirt—worn once—was ruined. Not that he couldn’t afford to buy another one. But he’d picked this one up especially for the wedding. Even millionaires didn’t like waste.

  He stuck his head back out of the bathroom door. Maybe he should put his trousers back on? Meeting someone for the first time dressed only in jersey boxers was a bit much—even for him. But every time he lifted his hand from his forehead the blood started gushing again. Struggling into a crumpled pair of trousers one-handed was more than he could think about.

  He couldn’t help but smile. He knew Violet well. Her sister Rose? He didn’t know her at all. This was their first meeting. And she obviously wasn’t bowled over by him.

  Will wasn’t used to that. Women normally loved him. And he normally loved women. This was a whole new experience for him.

  There was more to Rose Huntingdon-Cross than met the eye. And he’d already seen more than his fair share.

  He could even forgive the Runaway Groom comments. Violet said her sister was a PR genius and she’d handled the whole publicity for their father’s upcoming tour and charity concert.

  Maybe he should get to know Rose a little better?

  * * *

  Rose strode down the hall. She could feel the fury building in her chest. The audacity of the guy. Who did he think he was?

  She pushed open the door of her sister’s room. ‘Violet? What on earth is going on? Why would the Runaway Groom be in bed with me—and think I was you? Why would you be in bed with that guy? And why would there be touching?’

  Violet was leaning back on her bed drinking tea, eating chocolate and reading a celebrity magazine. She lifted her eyebrows at her sister and started laughing. ‘You didn’t hook up with Will?’

  ‘No! I didn’t hook up with Will! I woke up and he was lying next to me. He thought I was you!’

  Violet folded her arms across her chest and looked highly amused. ‘He doesn’t like the Runaway Groom tag.’

  Rose rolled her eyes. ‘So I gathered.’

  Violet grinned. ‘Will copped a feel?’

  Rose shivered and waved her hand. ‘Don’t even bring that up.’

  Violet shrugged and continued to drink her tea. ‘So, it was a simple mistake. I’d say send him back along the corridor, but...’ she paused and raised her eyebrows, giving Rose that oh, so knowing smile ‘...I’m thinking this looks a whole lot more interesting than that.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Rose was getting mad now. Neither Violet nor Will was really giving anything away about their relationship and she couldn’t understand why it irked her so much.

  ‘Violet, come and take your plaything back. I don’t have time for this. I’ve got a hundred things to sort out for Dad’s tour. Another set of wedding rings to make for a couple who are getting married in two weeks. And a runaway groom who needs his head stitched. Be a good sister and take him to the hospital for me?’

  Violet shook her head and jumped off the bed. ‘Not a chance, dear sister. You caused the injury. You can try and make it up to Will. He can be very good company, I’ll have you know.’

  She gave Rose a little nod of approval. ‘By the way, Daisy and Seb’s wedding rings? Probably the nicest I’ve ever seen. That’s w
hat you should be doing. You’re wasting your talent running Dad’s tours for him.’

  Rose sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. A little surge of pride rushed through her chest. Violet’s opinion mattered to her. ‘Making those rings was the best thing I’ve ever done, Vi. I know I’ve made lots of different pieces for people before. But making something for your sister?’ She smiled and gave her head a little shake. ‘And watching the person she loves with her whole heart give it to her and knowing that she’ll wear it for a lifetime? You just can’t beat that.’

  A flicker of something passed over Violet’s face. Not annoyance. Not frustration. Just...something.

  ‘I’ll make your wedding jewellery for you, too,’ she added quickly.

  Violet let out a laugh. ‘I’ll need to find a groom first. In fact, we both do. Our baby sister’s gone and beat us to it.’

  Rose leaned backwards on the bed, propping herself up with her elbows. ‘I know.’ She lifted one hand up. ‘And she’s done it in such style. Do we really need to call her Lady Holgate now, or Countess? Because I can tell you right now—’ she shook her head ‘—it’s never, ever going to happen.’

  The two of them laughed out loud and collapsed back onto the bed. ‘Daisy Waisy it stays.’

  Rose turned her head to look at her sister, leaning over and picking up a strand of her blonde hair. ‘You know, Vi, we almost look like twins,’ she said sarcastically. ‘We’ll have to do something about these hairdos.’

  Violet sighed. ‘I know. I couldn’t believe it when I saw you the other day. Maybe I’ll go back to curls.’

  ‘Don’t you dare. That frizzy perm was the worst thing I’ve ever seen.’

  Violet laughed and shook her head. ‘Oh, no, the worst thing I’ve ever seen was you kissing Cal Ellerslie at that party years ago.’

  Rose’s shoulders started shaking with laughter and she shuddered. ‘Oh, yuck, don’t remind me. I still feel sick at the thought of that. He was all tongue. The guy had no idea what he was doing.’

  She turned on her side and rested her head on her hand. ‘Is there anyone you’ve been kissing lately?’

  Violet sighed again. ‘You’re joking. There are absolutely no decent men around.’

  ‘What about Will—your runaway groom?’ She was prying and she knew it. But she couldn’t help but ask the question out loud. Violet had been talking about Will for months. Maybe Rose just hadn’t been paying enough attention.

  But Violet’s eyes widened. ‘Are you joking—Will?’ She let out a snort. ‘No way. I mean, I love him to bits—just not like that. Never like that. I trust Will. Completely. I’ve been in his company lots of times, sometimes even raging drunk. He’s a gentleman through and through. He’s the kind of guy that sees you home, puts you to bed and stays with you until morning.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘In fact, I’ve done the same for him. We’re good company for each other.’ She smiled. ‘And every time he gets engaged, I get to buy a new wedding outfit with matching shoes and bag. What more could a girl want? Even if they never get an airing.’

  Rose rolled her eyes. She knew better than most that Violet couldn’t care less about wedding outfits, shoes and handbags. She was much more down-to-earth than most celebrities. They all were. ‘Yeah, right.’

  But Violet had drifted off. Her eyes were fixed on the ornately decorated ceiling, carved with cherubs. ‘There’s just no spark between us, Posey. None. Not even a little zing, a little tingle.’ She turned her head to face her sister on the bed. ‘You know what I mean?’

  Oh, boy, did she. She’d felt that little tingle shoot up her arm like an electric shock. She blinked. Her sister was looking at her with her identical big blue eyes. They were unyielding. Their bond was strong. She’d always been able to see inside Rose’s head—even when Rose didn’t want her to.

  Rose shifted uncomfortably on the bed. But Violet blinked. For once, she was lost in her own little world. ‘I mean, there’s got to be someone out there.’ She regained her focus. ‘For both of us,’ she added quickly.

  Rose smiled. It was the first time she’d ever seen her sister actually contemplate a future partner. Maybe the fact their younger sister, Daisy, had beat them both up the aisle and was going to be a mother had made their biological clocks start to tick. It was an interesting concept. And one she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to explore.

  Coming back to England had been hard enough. Visiting in the last three years had been painful. Everything seemed to be a reminder of that dreadful night a few years ago. The one that was imprinted on her brain like a painful branding.

  But sisters were sisters. She couldn’t really stay away too long. She still spoke to, Skyped or emailed her sisters every day. Not even an ocean—or a tragic death—could come between them.

  But now her father’s tour was coming back to Britain. It was big news for the band. A relaunch after a few quiet years—with only an annual charity concert—followed by a brand-new album. And she had to be here, in England, to deal with the last few PR issues. Her quietly building wedding jewellery business would have to be pushed to the side for a few months. She needed time to focus on the final details of the tour.

  The last thing she needed was any distractions. And that was exactly what the Runaway Groom was—a distraction. Even if he did make her arm tingle.

  Rose rolled off the bed. She hated that little feeling at the pit of her stomach. The one that had given a little flutter when her sister had assured her there was nothing between her and Will.

  Nothing at all. Funny how those words were so strangely satisfying.

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE FROZEN PEAS were a godsend. It appeared that Hawksley Castle did have some—even though Rose had doubted. The lump on his head wasn’t quite so big and, as long as he kept them pressed to his head, the bleeding stopped.

  He’d managed to struggle into the T-shirt and jeans that Rose had brought from his bag in Violet’s room. But instead of leaving him alone to get dressed, she’d leaned against the wall with her arms folded.

  ‘What, no privacy?’

  ‘From the guy who was in my bed? You lost the privacy privilege a while ago, mister. Anyway, hurry up. I’ve got things to do today.’

  ‘Really? I would have thought after your sister’s wedding you might want to chill out a bit.’

  She crossed the room as he slid his feet into his training shoes. ‘I’d like to have time to chill out, but I don’t. I’ve got the final touches to make to my dad’s tour, then I need to finish some jewellery for another bride.’

  He looked up. ‘Ready. Do you know where the nearest hospital is?’

  She nodded. ‘I know this area well. Let’s go.’

  They walked down the corridor and out of the front doors of Hawksley Castle. She opened the door of a pale blue Rolls-Royce and nodded at him to get in the other side.

  Will couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he slid into the cream leather seat. ‘Didn’t take you for this kind of car,’ he said in amusement.

  She started the engine and frowned at him. ‘What kind of car did you think I’d drive?’

  ‘Something sporty. Something small. Probably something red.’ He looked thoughtful for a second. ‘Probably one of those new-style Minis.’ He wasn’t revealing that his identical Rolls-Royce was parked a few cars down in the car park.

  She pulled out of the car park and down the sweeping mile-long driveway. ‘This is my dad’s. You forget, I’ve been in New York for the last three years. There isn’t much point in me having a car here right now, so I just borrow one when I’m home.’

  ‘And he lets you?’ Rick Cross’s car collection was legendary. ‘How many does he actually have?’

  She laughed. And it was the first genuine laugh he’d heard from her. It was beautiful. Light and frivolous. Two things that Rose didn’t r
eally emanate. ‘You mean, how many does Mum think he has—or how many does he actually have?’

  Now Will started laughing. ‘Really? How does he manage that? Where on earth can he hide cars from her?’

  She shrugged. ‘He’s a master. We’ve got more than one home. You’ll have seen the garages at Huntingdon Hall. There are eighteen cars there. Four in New York. Three in Mustique. And—’ she glanced over her shoulder as if to check if someone was there ‘—another twelve at an unspecified location in London.’

  ‘Another twelve? You’ve got to be joking.’

  ‘I never joke about my father.’ She shrugged. ‘What can I say? It’s his money. He can spend it how he likes. Same with my mother. They have beautiful homes, there might even have been the odd nip and tuck here and there, and to the outside world they seem like a pretty frivolous couple.’

  He could hear the edge in her voice. Just as he’d heard the same tone in Violet’s voice on a few occasions. He’d met Rick and Sherry. They seemed like regular, nice folks. Polite, well-mannered, and they obviously loved their daughters.

  ‘So, what’s the problem?’

  Her head whipped around. ‘Who said there was a problem?’

  ‘You did. Just now.’

  ‘I did not.’

  He sighed. ‘You and Violet are more alike than you think. She does that, too—starts talking about your parents and then starts to say strange things.’

  ‘She does?’ Her voice was a little squeaky and her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. It was nothing to do with her driving. And nothing to do with the car.

  The Rolls-Royce was eating up the country roads with ease. It should be a pleasant enough drive. But Rose looked tense.

  ‘You must deal with the press all the time. Why does it annoy you when they describe your parents as frivolous?’

  ‘Because they’re not really. Not at heart. Yes, they spend money. But they also give a lot away. Lots of celebrities do. My mum and dad both support lots of charities.’

  He nodded. ‘Yeah, I remember. I’ve seen her in the magazines and doing TV interviews.’