‘Yes, really. Why does that seem strange?’
‘It just does, that’s all.’
‘It’s strange that a guy is interested in how his home looks?’
She paused. When he said it out loud it didn’t seem so strange. She just couldn’t imagine Will Carter sitting with a dozen sample books and picking wallpaper and soft furnishings.
She walked over and stuck her head into the white bathroom with pale yellow towels. Everything matching perfectly. ‘Okay, maybe not.’
He gave a little nod. As if he was pleased he’d won the argument. ‘How about I leave you to freshen up and we meet downstairs later for dinner?’ He hesitated. ‘Is there anything you don’t like? Any allergies?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ll let you into a secret. I’m a simple girl. Chicken is my favourite no matter what you do to it.’
He looked relieved. ‘I can definitely do chicken.’ He glanced towards the window again. ‘How do you feel about sitting outside? We could have dinner on the patio overlooking the gardens and the lake.’
Her insides gave a little flutter. This was starting to sound a lot more like a date than a business meeting. And even though it was wrong—even though she’d already told Will he would never be for her—it was still flattering.
The last few years had been hard. She wasn’t the party girl she’d been before. She’d been used to flirting and high-speed dating. As soon as she’d bored of one guy, she’d moved on to the next—none of them serious.
But everything had changed after Autumn’s death. They’d been friends for a few years and had liked socialising together. When Rose had left the party with the man of the moment she’d assumed Autumn was fine, too. An assumption that was completely wrong. She’d been foolish. And partly to blame. Even though Rose had never dabbled with drugs herself she’d known that Autumn did so on occasion. But Autumn was independent and strong-willed. Telling her not to do something was practically impossible. But the guilt Rose felt was still overwhelming. If she’d been there, she would have noticed Autumn was unwell. Her friend wouldn’t have been found slumped in a corner and not breathing. She could have called an ambulance and intervened.
Instead a few hours later she’d heard her dad’s scratchy voice on the phone demanding to know where she was and if she was okay. Rose had known straight away something was wrong. Her parents were very liberal and once the girls had reached the age of twenty-one they could pretty much do what they wanted. By the grand old age of twenty-four she should have known so much better. She’d never forgotten the look on his face as she’d pulled up in a taxi outside Huntingdon Hall. He’d been standing in the doorway watching for her while her mother was sitting inside waiting to tell her the news.
Drug deaths were always good media fodder. And Rose had found herself the unwitting angle for every story.
Pop star’s daughter at drug party.
Wild child Rose Huntingdon-Cross’s friend dies of drug overdose.
After the funeral she hadn’t been able to get out of the country quick enough. Dealing with PR was the last thing she’d wanted to do. But it went hand in hand with the job for her dad’s band. She’d learned who to talk to, who to ignore and who to threaten to sue. All valuable skills in this life.
Skills she was going to exploit to help Will Carter get what he wanted. She only hoped he’d listen to reason when she explained what she wanted to do. She smiled at him. ‘Dinner outside would be lovely. Thanks. Give me an hour to get changed.’
He gave a little nod of his head and walked out, closing the door behind him. Leaving Rose staring out over the lake towards the island. She ran her hands up and down her arms. There was something about that place. Something magical. Something mystical. And there was no way she was ever setting foot there again with Will Carter.
* * *
Violet’s sister. Violet’s sister. He muttered the words under his breath all along the length of the corridor. If he kept reminding himself that he’d put the relationship with his best friend at risk if he ventured too near, he might actually convince himself.
He had to do something, because right now his head was full of that kiss.
The softness of her hair, the silkiness of her skin, the taste of her lips. Enough.
He had to stop this. Violet had warned him, and she almost knew him better than he knew himself. She knew he fell head over heels with the next beautiful woman to come along—suitable or not. And Rose was definitely not suitable.
But Rose wasn’t like any of the others. He’d never felt compelled to take any of his fiancées to the island—none of them had ever shown much interest.
And none of them had ever had the same expression in their eyes that Rose had when he’d shown her into her room. It wasn’t anything to do with wealth or prosperity; it was to do with making a house a home. Rose appreciated that. And he appreciated her because of it.
He walked down the wide staircase and into the kitchen where Judy, his housekeeper and chef all rolled into one, was waiting. ‘What’ll it be?’ She smiled.
‘Chicken. Do whatever you like with it, as long as it’s chicken.’
She nodded. ‘Well, that’s easy. Do you want some dessert, too?’
Darn it. He hadn’t even thought to ask. But Judy was used to him.
‘How about some fresh fruit pavlova? I made some earlier for that grump of a football player but he didn’t want any.’
Will gave a sigh of relief. ‘Perfect.’ He took a quick look around the kitchen. As usual everything was gleaming. The staff who worked here really took their jobs seriously. He was lucky to have them.
Judy started pulling ingredients from the huge fridge. ‘So, who is our guest, then? Anybody I should know?’
He shook his head quickly. ‘It’s nobody. It’s just Violet’s sister.’
Judy looked interested. ‘Rose? I’ve heard Violet talk about her a lot but I’ve never met her before. Are they alike?’
He paused, not quite sure how to answer. Violet had never made the blood race back through his veins as Rose had. ‘They look alike, but they’re totally different people,’ he said quickly. It seemed the simplest enough answer.
Judy gave a little nod of her head as she started slicing vegetables on a wooden board. ‘I’ll look forward to meeting her, then. Dinner will be ready in about forty minutes. Just give me a shout when you’re ready.’ She gave Will a little wink and he cringed. She always did that.
It was almost as if she could read his mind and see what he was really thinking.
Business. That was what this was. And if he kept that in his head he’d do fine. Weddings. He tried to stop the shiver going down his spine at the mere thought of it. He could write a list. That was what he’d do. He’d change his shirt, then write a list for Rose of the things she’d need to plan.
Anything to keep him on track.
* * *
Rose was used to luxury. Their family home certainly didn’t scrimp on anything. Hawksley Castle had been something else entirely. But this place—Gideon Hall—added a whole new dimension.
It wasn’t quite as big as Huntingdon Hall but it had more land—more space. And Will’s taste was surprisingly good. The furnishings were comfortable but stylish. It had a show-home look about it, while still giving that you-could-actually-live-here feel.
She finished drying her hair and opened her suitcase to find some more clothes. It didn’t take long. Clean underwear and a bright blue knee-length jersey dress. Even though the sun wasn’t quite so high in the sky it was still hot outside and the last thing she wanted to do round about Will Carter was feel hot and bothered.
She gave a quick squirt of perfume, spent two minutes putting on some make-up and stuck on some flat, comfortable gold sandals. Done.
By the time she walked down the main staircase at Gideon
Hall she was feeling like a new woman. It was amazing what a shower and change of clothes could do for a girl. Will was standing at the door to the huge kitchen. ‘Rose, come and meet Judy. She’s made dinner for us.’
Rose came into the kitchen and held her hand out towards Judy. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope you haven’t gone to too much trouble for us.’
Judy beamed and shook her hand swiftly. ‘You’re so much like your sister. It’s amazing. Do you ever get mistaken for each other?’
Will could see the tiniest flicker of something in Rose’s face. She’d probably heard this for the best part of her twenty-seven years. And from most of the pictures he’d seen of Violet and Rose they normally tried to look a bit different—a bit more individual.
Rose touched her long, straight hair. ‘We look alike more by default than anything deliberate. I’ve been in the States for the last few years. Violet and I always tried something different. I would be shorter, she would be longer. I would go lighter, she’d go darker. I’d be curls, she’d be straight. You get the picture.’ She shrugged her shoulders. She fingered a lock of her blonde hair. ‘I’ll really need to do something with this.’
‘Don’t you dare.’ The words were out before he knew it and both heads turned towards him with startled expressions on their faces. He gulped and let out his best attempt at a laugh. ‘Oh, I was just joking. Will we have some wine? What would you prefer—white or red?’
‘White, sparkling if you have any.’ Both women exchanged an amused glance as Will felt himself bluster around the kitchen. Where was the darn sparkling wine when he needed it?
Judy pulled the chicken from the oven and the smell of bubbling chicken stock, tomatoes and spicy peppers swamped the kitchen. ‘That smells great,’ said Rose. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’
Judy waved her hand. ‘Not at all. Give me two minutes and I’ll plate up for you, then you can take it outside. The cutlery and napkins are already there.’
He finally managed to find a chilled bottle of wine and popped the cork before grabbing a couple of glasses. Rose stood waiting with two plates of piping hot food in her hands. ‘Lead the way, Mr Carter, and I hope you’re prepared for this business meeting we’re about to have.’
He couldn’t help but smile as he led her through the house and out through the wide open doors at the dining room. The table was positioned on the patio overlooking the gardens and lake. It only took a few moments to pour the wine and he sat across from her and raised his glass.
‘To interesting bed companions.’
She grinned and clinked his glass. ‘To things that go bump in the morning.’
* * *
This was such a bad idea. She knew it from the second they clinked glasses and she let the cold sparkling wine slide down her throat. How many times had he done this before? Had a woman sit with him overlooking the gardens for dinner? The house was spectacular. Judy’s cooking was brilliant. And Will was looking at her with that twinkle in his eyes...
He pulled out a piece of paper from his back pocket. ‘Here. I’ve made you a list.’
‘A list of what?’ She spun the paper around and looked at the printed list with the bold heading of Wedding Arrangements. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. ‘What? You have a ready-made template just sitting, waiting for use?’
His brow wrinkled and he waved his fork at her. ‘Enough. If you want my help, you’re going to have to stop with all the wedding jokes. I thought you might want it for that black planner of yours.’
She tilted her head to one side as she lifted her glass towards him. ‘You’re such a spoilsport.’
He lifted his hand to his head and feigned a flinch. ‘I think I’ve already suffered quite enough at your hands.’
‘How long are you going to keep this up?’
He couldn’t hide his smirk. ‘Let’s see. Stitches come out in seven days—at least that long.’
‘If I find another vase, I’m hitting you again.’
He leaned across the table towards her and hit her with his million-watt grin. ‘Oh, go on, Rose, play fair.’
She couldn’t help but laugh. Even when he was annoying, Will Carter was still alarmingly cute. And handsome. And sexy.
She took a final bite of the chicken and glanced down at the list. ‘Why do some of these have ticks?’
Will leaned back in his chair and started counting off on his fingers. ‘Rose, you’ve no idea how easy you’ve got it. The biggest thing—the venue. Your parents have already said they want to do it at Huntingdon Hall. Easy.’ He gave a little shrug. ‘You really need to check numbers though. You’ll need to ensure you get a big enough marquee for the grounds.’
She gulped. A marquee. Where on earth was she going to find one of those, big enough to accommodate wedding guests and available in less than four weeks just as they were coming into summer? She lifted her glass. ‘I think I’m going to need some more wine. What else?’
He kept counting on his fingers. ‘Wedding photographer you’ve got. Why would you use anyone but Daisy?’
She nodded. ‘But what about the pics we want Daisy to be in?’
‘Doesn’t she have an assistant?’
Rose racked her brain. ‘I’m not sure. I’ll need to ask.’
Will continued. ‘As for the flowers, it goes without saying that Violet will do them. Even if it does mean getting up to go to some flower market at three a.m.’
Rose nodded. Violet would be able to conjure up whatever concoction her mother wanted for the day. Sherry had a tendency to like beautiful, bright and exotic flowers rather than the quiet-style flowers she’d named her daughters after.
‘So what does that leave?’
Will took a sip of wine. ‘Band, celebrant—or whoever they want to say their vows to—caterers, décor, wedding favours, drinks and bar.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘Will you need a children’s entertainer? Or a nanny for the guests’ kids? Cars?’ He waved his hand. ‘No, they’re getting married at home.’
Rose felt her stomach start to lurch. He was saying this was easy, but it sounded anything but. ‘I have a horrible feeling that both Mum and Dad will want to make an entrance. They’ll probably leave by the back door and come back up the drive for the wedding in front of the guests.’
‘So you will need cars?’
She picked up the pen sitting on the table and drew a thick black line through the word Cars. ‘Absolutely not. With what I know is sitting in Dad’s garages? Between what Mum knows about, and what she doesn’t, there will definitely be enough for her to pick something she likes to come up the driveway in. Surely it’s not that big a deal?’
Will let out a laugh. ‘Oh, you’ve got so much to learn in so little time.’ His hand came casually across the table and touched hers. ‘Are you really ready for this?’
In an instant her tongue was sticking to the roof of her mouth, the inside so dry a camel could be marching through it. A dozen little centipedes had just invaded her body and were racing their way up the inside of her arm and directly to her fluttering heart. It was a warm evening. She wasn’t the least bit cold. But the heat currently shooting up her arm could light up this whole mansion house.
What on earth was wrong with her? She’d been on lots of dates. She’d had a few relationships. But she’d never felt any of the old thunderbolts and lightning. She’d always thought that was nonsense.
But it seemed as if her body was trying to tell her something else entirely.
When she’d got ready earlier she hadn’t really been that concerned about what she was wearing or how she looked. But all of a sudden it felt as if her dress might be a little too clingy, a little too revealing. She could sense his eyes on her curves, following the slope of her hips and swell of her breasts. She sat up a little straighter.
Her
brain kept trying to temper her body’s responses. Runaway Groom. He’s the Runaway Groom. He’s absolutely, definitely not for you.
Was she ready for all this? Not a chance.
* * *
Will wasn’t quite sure what was happening. He’d virtually face-planted himself into his last four relationships and engagements. He’d been swept along with the early joy and the passion.
But this was something else entirely.
All he wanted to do was reach across the table and grab her and kiss her. It didn’t help that the world was plotting against him and the sun had started to dip slightly in the sky, silhouetting her figure and perfect blonde hair on her shoulders. Or, more importantly, highlighting her silky skin and waiting-to-be-kissed lips.
It was automatic. The thought made him lick his lips and he could swear he could still taste her from earlier. He pulled his hands back from hers and lifted the wine glass to his lips. Empty. Darn it. It seemed as if both of them had inexplicably dry mouths.
He made an attempt to focus on the list. Out of bounds. He had to keep saying it over and over in his head.
His eyes scanned down the list of wedding items. There. That would stop him. Nothing like a list of wedding to-dos to temper his libido.
‘What about catering? Do you have anyone in mind?’
Rose visibly jerked in her chair. It was as if her brain had been circling in the same clouds as his. At least that was what he was hoping.
She groaned. ‘Oh, no. That will be a nightmare. Mum and Dad are so fussy about food.’
‘You can’t pull any special favours?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve already pulled special favours for the tour. And that was only to cater for five members of the band. We don’t even know how many people they’re inviting yet but I can guarantee you—it won’t be five.’
Will frowned. ‘It’s such short notice. I hate to say it but you might need to take what you can get.’
‘Oh, don’t say that.’ Rose put her head on the table, her blonde hair flicking up dramatically behind her. He smiled. She might appear calm on the surface but when the moment occurred it appeared that Rose could do drama.
A Bride for the Runaway Groom Page 7