Paul waited for the drum roll. It seemed to last for ever. Dramatic TV seemed to be his forte.
‘Voting on the dares has finished. Will Carter, the total amount of money raised for your homeless charity is...one point one million pounds!’
Will’s legs took on a life of their own and he shot upright with the wildest yell, punching the air. ‘Yes!’ His brain was jammed full of all the things the charity could do with the money. All the things that would make a difference for the people on the street. Staff. Housing. Employment. Rose was a genius. He could kiss her. He would kiss her.
Paul was still talking as Will pushed his way through the buzzing studio. He’d stopped listening to Paul. He’d stopped worrying about the cameras. All he wanted to do was find Rose.
Rose. There was a stunned smile on her face as he elbowed people out of the way to get to her. He picked her up in his arms and spun her around. ‘Way to go, Rose! Have you any idea what this means?’
He didn’t wait for an answer, just lowered her down and planted a kiss square on her lips, reaching his hands up to either side of her face. She tasted of strawberries. Sweet, juicy strawberries.
But she wasn’t kissing back. Not as she usually did.
The buzz in the studio seemed to have died down a little. Will felt a tap on the shoulder. Paul, with a camera and light at his side. ‘Will, who is this? Is this someone that we all should meet? Could this be your newest fiancée?’
He felt her bristle under his touch, every muscle in her body tensing. She pulled her lips away from his.
Panic. That was all he could see in her eyes. He’d misjudged this so badly. The one thing he didn’t want to do. He’d just been swept away by the momentum of the event, and the memories of this morning. He hadn’t even asked Rose if she was ready to go public and now, he’d just kissed her on national television in front of all his ex-fiancées. Could he get this any more wrong?
‘Rose. Don’t panic. This will be fine. Let me handle this,’ he whispered.
But she looked horrified. Her hands fell from his sides. ‘I’m not ready for this, Will.’ Her words were cold. Definite.
Will stepped back as if stung. She looked hurt. She looked confused. He’d done this to her.
Will was used to women falling in love with him. He wasn’t used to them stepping away. But Rose was different. And he’d known it from the start. It was why he loved her.
He turned to Paul. Right now, he could cheerfully punch him. Paul knew exactly who Rose was—he’d worked with her often enough.
‘Rose is just a friend,’ he said quickly before turning and beaming at the camera. ‘I don’t think I’m quite ready for another fiancée, do you?’ He gestured towards the four sitting women. ‘Let’s find out what dare I will be doing.’
Paul led him back over towards the TV sofas as his head spun round and round. How was he going to get this back? How was he going to sort this?
He glanced behind him. But the spot that Rose had been standing in was empty. She was gone.
* * *
Rose had never walked so quickly. Hot tears were spilling down her cheeks. I don’t think I’m quite ready for another fiancée, do you?
How much more of a wake-up call did she need? Fiancées. He collected them like some kids collected dolls, or rubbers, or cars. Will Carter made promises he couldn’t keep. He never saw things through to the main event.
That wasn’t for her. It never would be. Rose was a traditionalist. She wanted what her mum and dad had. Love to last a lifetime. Nothing less would do. She wouldn’t, couldn’t settle for anything else.
She waited until she burst from the studio doors and the cool fresh air hit her before she finally released all the pent-up sobs. Home. She needed to go home. She needed to see her sisters.
Because at a time like this—only sisters would do.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WILL’S PHONE SOUNDED and he bolted across the room, knocking over a chair and leaping over his bed to reach it.
‘Rose?’ he answered breathlessly.
‘Violet,’ came the snarky reply. ‘And I’m going to kill you with my bare hands, Will Carter.’
He sagged onto the bed. ‘I thought it was Rose. I’ve left her a dozen messages and sent about a hundred texts.’
‘I know. I’ve read them all. I’m in charge of Rose’s phone now.’
He winced. The messages were private. They weren’t really for family viewing.
‘Please, just let me talk to her.’
‘You did my sister, Will.’ The blunt words cut through him. ‘Of all the women in the world, you had to break my sister’s heart.’
‘No,’ he cut in quickly. ‘That’s the last thing I want to do.’
‘Well, it’s too late.’ He’d never heard Violet like this. They’d been good friends for years with never a cross word.
‘Violet, how long have you known me?’
There was a pause. ‘Three years.’
‘Have I ever lied to you?’
The pause stretched on and on. ‘Well...no.’
‘Violet, I love Rose with all my heart. I’ve even done something really crazy to prove it to her. But it’s a bit hard to tell her about it if she won’t even talk to me. I need your help.’
He could almost hear Violet’s brain ticking over at the end of the phone. ‘Violet, please. This is it for me. Rose is it for me. There won’t ever be anyone else. Help me prove it to her.’
There was a loud sigh at the end of the phone. ‘This better be good, Will.’
The relief was immense. ‘It’s better than good, Vi. I promise you. Here’s what I need you to do...’
* * *
She hadn’t had a minute. The last week had been frantic. Finalising every detail of her parents’ wedding renewal. Trying to make sure that Daisy wasn’t doing too much in her current condition and avoiding the messages from Will.
She’d had flowers every single day. Followed by balloons and cupcakes and the chocolates she’d loved at the wedding fair. It was nice. It was charming. But it was a token from a guy who was good at giving tokens, just not good at giving his whole heart.
Violet initially had been mad. Daisy had been sympathetic. But for the last few days both sisters had been surprisingly quiet. Maybe they were as caught up in the arrangements as she was.
But at last everything was ready—or at least it should be.
The marquees were finally in place and their corners filled with metallic heart-shaped balloons. The flower arches and covered chairs for the outside ceremony were complete. The weather had even decided to let the sun shine for the day.
People had been arriving at Huntingdon Hall since this morning. One celebrity friend after another with their little lists of demands. Rose had ignored every one of them. They were big enough to sort themselves out. She had her mother to deal with.
Daisy was lying across the chaise longue in her green gown, her hair in curls around her shoulders. ‘Do you think I’m getting kankles?’ she moaned.
‘What on earth are kankles?’ asked Violet. Her purple gown fitted perfectly and the beautiful exotic flowers that their mother had picked were the perfect explosion of colour against the rich jewel-toned gowns.
‘Puffy ankles. Pregnant woman ankles. Do you think I’m getting them?’
Violet gave a cursory glance at Daisy’s perfectly normal ankles in her flat jewelled sandals. ‘Oh, belt up, Daisy.’
Rose winced. That was sharp—even for Violet, but she seemed a little on edge today.
‘Well, girls, what do you think? Am I ready to face the world?’
Sherry Huntingdon looked magnificent. Her cream lace fishtail gown hugged every inch of her perfect body. All three girls were around her in an instant. Group hug. It was something they
’d done since early childhood.
‘You look spectacular, Mum,’ said Rose quickly, trying to bat back the tears from her eyes. ‘Dad won’t be able to take his eyes off you.’
Daisy gave a little nod. ‘Let’s go to the staircase and get some pictures of that gown on the stairs. It will be gorgeous.’ She was already thinking like the professional.
But Rose couldn’t relax and be happy for the family portraits—even though she wanted to. Her stomach was wound like a tightly coiled spring. She should be able to relax. Everything was coming together. All the hours she’d spent working on the plans were finally coming to fruition. The endless nights she’d spent in her workshop working on the gold bangle for her mother would be worth it. She was sure of it. So why didn’t she feel good?
* * *
Everything was perfect. Everything was hitch free. Three hundred people attended the wedding renewal ceremony. Amongst them, somewhere, would be Will—but she hadn’t seen him yet.
After the renewal ceremony there were more photos, cake cutting, hors d’oeuvres and lots of wine. Then it was time for the sit-down meal.
Her father stood up to make a speech and she felt her breath hitch in her throat. He raised his glass. ‘I want to thank you all for coming today, to see the wedding that my beautiful wife always deserved.’ He gave a little laugh. ‘Even if I am twenty-eight years too late. Most of you know that Sherry and I got married on a whim in Vegas. We hardly knew each other at all. But—’ he raised his glass and looked at his wife ‘—when you know—you just know.’ There was no hiding the love and devotion in his eyes. ‘I want you all to know that every day that has been filled with Sherry has been perfect. We’ve fought. We’ve argued. There has been the odd occasion that we haven’t spoken. But there hasn’t been a single day I haven’t wanted to be part of this partnership—part of this family with our three wonderful, if challenging, daughters.’
He picked up a box from the table. ‘Lots of people buy new wedding rings for a renewal ceremony. But Sherry and I didn’t want to do that. We’ve had these rings for twenty-eight years and they’ve seen us through the good, the bad and the beautiful. They’re sort of our lucky charms. So...’ he gave a little nod to Rose ‘...with the help of one of our fabulously talented daughters, I got her something else.’
He handed over the box to Sherry, who opened it with shaking hands. She took out the bangle, the three twisted strands of gold intersected with a rose, a violet and a daisy. The recognition was instant and she leapt to her feet and wrapped her hands around Rick’s neck. ‘It couldn’t be more perfect,’ she declared.
The waiters were standing behind everyone, ready to put down the perfectly made first courses. But Rose’s stomach was done. She couldn’t even try a mouthful.
She’d always known it. It had played along in the background all along. This was what she wanted. This. The perfect part of knowing that every day, no matter what, there was one person you wanted by your side.
‘Excuse me,’ she said quickly to the person sitting next to her. ‘I have to powder my nose.’
Her footsteps covered the gardens quickly, taking her back to the sanctity of the house. The quiet of the house, the coolness of the house.
She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and leaned against the cool wall. Hold it together. Stop being so pathetic. This is your parents’ wedding renewal. All you need to do is get through the day. This isn’t about you. This isn’t about Will. This is about them.
The voices circulated in her head, but they did nothing to stop the tears pooling behind her eyelids. There was a small thud beside her, the sound of another pair of shoulders hitting the wall right next to her. Violet. Then a hand slid into hers. A broad, thick hand, its fingers interlocking with her own. Not Violet.
Her eyes flew open. ‘Will.’ She didn’t want him to see her like this. She wanted him to see her when she was sure of herself, when she knew exactly how to react around him.
He let go of her hand and stepped in front of her, placing one hand above each shoulder, fencing her against the wall.
‘Rose,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘No phones, no messages.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘No flowers, no balloons, no cupcakes. Just you. And me.’
Her breath was caught somewhere in her throat. Halfway up and halfway down and not being of any use at all.
‘I... I...’ She couldn’t find any suitable words.
He shook his head. ‘Not I. Not you. Not me. Us. We need to talk about us, Rose.’
‘There is no us.’ The words rushed out.
‘But there should be.’ His reply was equally quick.
Her brain was working on overdrive. She had so many things she wanted to say. ‘I’m sorry. I couldn’t handle that day at the studio. When I saw all your exes lined up and looking at me I just felt as if I were the next lamb to the slaughter.’
He blinked. It wasn’t her best choice of words. But her brain wasn’t treading carefully right now.
‘It was too much, Will. It was too soon. After what we’d just done and then Angie said something, then Melissa...and then you kissed me and Paul cracked that joke.’
He lifted a finger to her lips. ‘Stop, Rose. Just stop.’
She stopped babbling and tried to think straight. He lifted his finger gently from her lips and placed it over his heart.
‘Angie, Melissa, Paul.’ He shook his head. ‘You are the person that matters to me, Rose. All those women were my past. None of them matter. You’re what matters, Rose. You are my future.’
She opened her mouth again and he shook his head to silence her. ‘I should have known how you would feel in the studio. I didn’t want to be there—why on earth would you? It was claustrophobic. They hadn’t spent the night we just had. They hadn’t seen what we’d just seen, or shared what we’d just shared. When Paul told me how much money we’d raised the first person I wanted to see, the first person I wanted to share that with, was you, Rose. Nobody else. You were the person I wanted to celebrate with.’
He raised his eyebrows and his mouth quirked. ‘And I want to thank you for not coming to that department store and helping me sell women’s lingerie all day dressed in nothing but a thong.’
She couldn’t help but smile. The pictures of Will’s butt had probably sold a million newspapers. The store had never had such good sales and had pledged part of them to the homeless charity.
She sighed. ‘I just couldn’t, Will. I needed some time. I needed some space.’
He reached up and wound his finger through one of her blonde curls. ‘I get that. I do. But I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you every single day, Rose. I don’t want to spend a single day without you.’
The lump in her throat was growing by the second. He was good. He was really good. And he was being sincere. But she still had the horrible doubts that she wasn’t the only woman to hear those words and it was breaking her heart.
He touched her cheek. ‘I love you, Rose. I don’t want to be without you. I don’t want to be without you ever.’
A tear slid down her cheek. She should be singing with joy and while part of her wanted to, she couldn’t face the heartache that being left at the altar might bring. Not when she loved him with her whole heart.
It was just the two of them in the corridor. She had a clear, unblinking view of the dark rim around his eyes. Something she could spend the rest of her life looking at.
‘And I can prove it.’ He reached inside his jacket and her heart lurched.
No. Not this. Anything but this.
‘I don’t want to be your next fiancée,’ she cried. The words just blurted out.
‘And I don’t want you to be my next fiancée,’ he replied coolly. His hand came out slowly from his jacket pocket. It wasn’t a ring box. It wasn’t anything remotely like jewellery he was holding. It was a piece of paper. No
matter what she’d said before, her heart gave a little sag.
He handed it to her silently and took his other hand down from the wall next to her head.
Her hands were trembling as she unfolded the paper. She stared at it for a few seconds. Blinking at the words. She couldn’t make sense of it at all because she’d never seen anything like this before.
‘What is it?’ Her voice was shaking.
‘It’s our wedding banns. For tonight, for a wedding in the church on the island. I don’t want you to be my fiancée, Rose. I want you to be my wife. I didn’t know how else to prove it to you.’
‘But...but...how did you do this?’ Her hands were still trembling as she looked at the date. Sixteen days before. Now she really couldn’t breathe. Her legs felt like jelly beneath her. ‘You knew then?’
He nodded. ‘I knew then, Rose. I didn’t doubt it. The only person I had to convince was you.’
‘You want us to get married today?’
He smiled and knelt down. ‘This is how I’m supposed to do it, isn’t it? I guess I just was scared you wouldn’t let me get this far.’
He reached up and took both her hands. ‘Rose Huntingdon-Cross. I love you with my whole heart and I want you to be the person I wake up next to every morning. And I don’t care what continent we do that on. If you want to go back to New York and work, I’ll come with you. If you want to keep designing wedding jewellery—I’ll build you a whole workshop. Whatever you want, Rose, I’ll do it.’
He bent forward and kissed the tips of her fingers, one after the other. ‘I’ve listened to every single thing you’ve told me. You don’t want a big wedding. Check. You loved the church on the island. Check. You don’t want a runaway groom. Check. You want things to be simple. Check. All you want is a dress, flowers and I’ve taken a gamble on a string of fairy lights. Check. You want someone who loves you with their whole heart. Check. You want the kind of love that your parents have—’ he winked at her ‘—Violet let me in on that secret. Check. So, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife tonight? I love you, Rose. I’ll never love anyone like you, and I’m hoping you feel the same way. Because I want that kind of love too, Rose. The kind that your parents have—the kind that lasts for ever.’
A Bride for the Runaway Groom Page 16