Kate was just about to reply when a tall, slender girl with a mop of silvery blonde curls poked her head around the door. ‘There you are, Kate. The hairdresser, make-up artist and manicurist are all waiting for us.’ Lizzie scowled at Sam. ‘You, Sam, were charged with getting Kate up to Sandy’s suite,’ she scolded. ‘We’ve got secret bridesmaids’ business to attend to.’
Kate put up her hand. ‘Just one more minute, Lizzie,’ she said.
Lizzie folded her arms in front of her chest and ostentatiously tapped her foot. ‘I’m going to wait right here to make sure you don’t disappear.’
Kate leaned up to whisper in Sam’s ear. ‘Is everything okay with the arch?’
‘Yes,’ he murmured. ‘Your mother and a friend from the hospital—some guy named Colin—are going to drive the van down to the beach. I’ll slip out at the time we arranged and they’ll help me install it.’
‘Fantastic. Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t wait to see it.’
‘Hurry up, Kate,’ urged Lizzie.
‘Okay, okay,’ said Kate and fled the room.
* * *
Sam hadn’t been one hundred per cent honest with Kate. The frenzied wedding activities had brought back memories of his own abruptly terminated nuptials nearly two years ago.
Seeing at close quarters the levels of planning that went into even a simple ceremony like Ben and Sandy’s made him realise how badly he’d neglected Frances in the months leading up to their big, showy wedding. On many of the times she’d asked for a decision, he’d brushed her aside with his stock replies: ‘You decide,’ or ‘I’ll leave it to you.’ He hadn’t cooperated with his mother, either, who had thrown herself into the elaborate preparations with great gusto. With hindsight, he realised his mother had done a lot to help Frances when it should have been him doing the helping.
Thinking about how he’d behaved made him feel vaguely ashamed. At the time, he had paid lip service to an apology. But, feeling aggrieved, he hadn’t really been sure what he had done to deserve the cancellation of his wedding and the dumping by his fiancée.
Being around Kate, her family and friends made him realise exactly what he’d done wrong. And that he’d be damned sure he got it right the next time round.
Being around Kate was also making him question how he’d felt about his former fiancée. After several years together, he had never felt for Frances what he already felt for Kate. If he were about to marry Kate—and of course that was purely a hypothetical situation—no way would he be away in another country. He would want to be with his bride-to-be every minute, working alongside her to plan their future together. Hypothetically, of course.
Now he stood barefoot on the sand, lined up with Ben and Jesse under the arch he had built with Kate in her father’s shed. It held firm in the breeze coming off the waters of the bay. Ben, in that jesting way of good mates, had told him that he had a bright future ahead of him making gimcracks for weddings. Because it was Ben’s day, he had let him get away with it.
The three men waited for the bridesmaids and then the bride to walk down the sandy aisle that had been formed between rows of folding white chairs and delineated with two rows of sea shells.
Suddenly the guests swivelled around to a collective sigh. ‘Oohs’ and ‘aahs’ greeted the sight of Lizzie’s five-year-old daughter, Amy. But, by the time Amy was halfway down the aisle, Sam only had eyes for the beautiful red-haired bridesmaid who followed her.
He’d never understood the expression ‘took his breath away’ until now. In bare feet, Kate moved like the dancer she was, seeming to glide along the sand towards him. Her strapless peach dress showed off her graceful shoulders and arms, and clung to her curves before it ended just below her knees. Her hair, pulled up off her face with some of it tumbling down her shoulders, shone like a halo in the afternoon sun.
Her glorious smile captivated him as it had the first time he’d seen her. Only this time her smile seemed only for him. Somehow, with just a glance, she seemed to convey how happy she was to be sharing this day with him. He smiled back, unable to take his eyes off her. When she reached the arch, he stepped forward to offer her his arm to guide her to the bride’s side of the area. He had to resist a strong impulse to gather her to him and keep her by his side, an arm planted possessively around her waist.
* * *
Kate couldn’t help a moment of self-congratulation at how well the shades of the sunset colour-scheme worked. She herself wore apricot, Lizzie a shade that veered towards tangerine and little Amy’s white dress had a big bow in a pale tint of magenta. The three men were handsome in chinos and loose white shirts. But Sam was the one who made her heart race, who made her aware of where he was at all times without her even having to look.
She kept sneaking sideways glimpses at him, glances that were often intercepted and ended in secret smiles. Every minute she knew him, he seemed to grow more attractive. Not just in his looks but also in his personality, which was funnier, kinder and more thoughtful than she could have imagined—though she didn’t let herself forget there must be a ruthless side to him too.
For a moment, when he had stepped forward to take her arm, she had indulged in a fantasy of what it might be like if she’d been walking up an aisle to meet him as her groom. She had immediately dismissed the thought as impossible but its warmth lingered in her mind. How was she going to endure it when he went back to Sydney the next day?
She forced her gaze away from Sam and straight ahead to where Sandy was about to commence her walk down the aisle.
But first it was Hobo’s turn. Ben’s mother Maura—officially appointed by Kate as dog-handler—had spent days training Hobo to sedately stroll down the aisle and take his place with Ben under the arch. The big, shaggy golden retriever—wearing a white ribbon around his neck, slightly chewed around the ends—started off fine, sitting as directed at the head of the aisle, giving the guests a big, doggy smile. There was a furious clicking of cameras.
‘Good boy, Hobo,’ Kate heard Maura whisper. But her praise was premature. Hobo caught sight of Ben, lolloped off down the aisle and came to a skidding halt next to his master’s feet, spraying sand around him as he landed.
The guests erupted into laughter and Sandy was laughing too as she started her walk down the aisle. It was a perfect start to the ceremony, Kate thought, the laughter vanquishing any last-minute nerves or tension.
When Ben and Sandy exchanged their vows in front of the celebrant, there wasn’t a sound except their murmured ‘I do’—and the occasional muffled sob and sniffle from the guests.
As she watched them, Kate was tearing up too. She couldn’t help an ache in her heart—not from envy of the bride and groom but a longing for the same kind of happiness for herself one day. She’d never really let herself imagine being married, having children, but of course she wanted all that one day.
She just had to get the man right.
She stole another surreptitious glance at Sam, to find him looking to her too. Did she imagine a hint of the same longing in his eyes? If only...
Weddings seemed to dredge up so many deeply submerged emotions and bring them to the surface. She had to be careful she didn’t let her imagination run riot and believe Sam felt in any way the same as she did.
But, when the newlyweds moved off to the small table they had set up for the signing of the official papers, Sam was next to her the first second he could be. He interlinked his fingers with hers and drew her to him for a swift, sweet kiss. ‘You outshone the bride,’ he murmured.
She protested, of course, but was deeply, secretly pleased. She wondered if anyone had noticed their kiss but decided she didn’t care. Forget the ‘poor Kate’ whispers. She reckoned there was more likely to be whispers of ‘lucky Kate’.
She was lucky to have met him. And, if tonight was the only time she ever had with Sam, she wa
s going to darn well enjoy every minute of it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SAM FELT A certain envy at the newlyweds’ obvious joy in each other. Being part of the wedding ceremony had stirred emotions in him he’d had no idea existed. Above all, it had forced him to face up to what he could not continue to deny to himself: he was besotted with Kate. No matter how much he fought the concept, he had fallen fast and hard for her.
From his seat at the bride and groom’s table he watched Kate as she flitted her way around the wedding reception like a bright flame; her hair, her dress, her smile made her easy to pick out in the crowd.
‘She’s a great girl, isn’t she?’ said Lizzie, who was sitting next to him. Was it so obvious that he couldn’t keep his eyes off Kate?
‘Yup,’ he said, not wanting to be distracted.
Lizzie laughed. ‘Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.’
He twisted to face her. ‘What do you mean?’
‘That you’re smitten with Kate.’ He started to protest but she spoke over him. ‘Don’t worry. I don’t think too many other people have noticed. They’re all still determined to pair her off with the home-town favourite, Jesse Morgan. I don’t know how Kate feels about that. I thought that might have been the reason why she didn’t come up to Sydney on Wednesday.’
A tightness in her voice made Sam look more closely at Lizzie. ‘Kate likes him as a friend, almost a brother, that’s all.’ He was surprised by the flash of relief that flickered across Lizzie’s face. ‘But you—you like Jesse?’
She flushed. ‘Of course I don’t. He’s arrogant. A player. Much too handsome for his own good and way too sure of himself.’
Sam stored her excessive denial away to share with Kate later. In the meantime, he had to stick up for his friend. ‘Actually, Jesse is a mate of mine and a really good guy. He’s confident, not arrogant. And he’s not a player.’
Lizzie snorted. ‘I’ll have to take your word for it.’
Lizzie had an acerbic edge to her and possibly too many glasses of champagne on board. Sam decided he didn’t want to engage in any further discussion about Jesse. He was relieved when she excused herself to go and have a word with her sister.
He drummed his fingers on the tabletop and wished Kate would come back to her chair. Ideally, he wanted her to be by his side all evening, but that wasn’t going to happen—not with the number of people who were waylaying her for a chat. She knew everyone and they knew her. No wonder she had found it so easy to stay in this town for so long; there was no denying the sense of community.
But could he live here?
Despite his aversion to small-town life, it was a question he had to ask himself. What if Kate was unable to get over her problem, to get out from under that invisible dome? The way he felt about her, he would find it untenable for them not to be in the same town if anything developed between them. If she couldn’t come to him in Sydney, might he have to come to her in Dolphin Bay?
If it meant being with Kate, he had to consider it.
When his father had had one too many drinks, he’d sometimes decided to give his son advice on women. It had always been the same—telling Sam to be sure he knew a woman really well before he considered commitment. The old ‘marry in haste, repent at leisure’ thing would inevitably come up. His dad had adored his first wife, the only blight on the marriage being the fact they hadn’t had children. He had been devastated when she’d died, had not been able to handle being on his own. Quite soon after, he’d met Vivien and had married her within months. By the time they’d realised it was a mistake, Sam had been on the way. They’d never actually said so, but he’d come to believe his parents had only stayed together for their child’s sake.
Sam wasn’t ready to propose to Kate after only a week. That would be crazy. But he didn’t want to wait for ever to have her beside him, sharing his life.
He wanted what Ben and Sandy had, and he wanted it with Kate.
Kate slid into the chair beside him and hooked her arm through his. ‘My mouth is aching from smiling so much and I’m not even the bride,’ she said. ‘Are you having fun?’
‘Now you’re back with me, the fun is back on track,’ he said.
‘The perfect reply,’ she said, with the full-on dimpled smile that was getting such a workout. This was the vivacious, bubbly Kate everyone knew. Looking at her flushed, happy face, it was difficult to believe she had secrets that haunted her.
‘You must be pleased at how well everything is going,’ he said. ‘Congratulations to the wedding planner.’
‘Congratulations to the world’s best wedding-arch builder,’ she said. ‘It was a big hit.’
‘I’m glad we made the effort.’ He realised he had fallen into talking about ‘we’—and he liked the feeling.
‘Clever us.’ She sighed. ‘I can’t believe how fast it’s gone. All that work and it’s over in a matter of hours. But now the speeches are done, the band is starting up and we can all relax.’
On cue, the band started to play and the MC announced it was time for the bride and groom to dance the first dance to a medley of popular love songs.
Sam noticed Kate go so pale, her freckles stood out. She looked anything but relaxed. ‘Are you okay?’
He noticed she was wringing her hands together under the table. ‘I didn’t think this through,’ she said in an undertone. ‘According to the order of the reception, the best man and chief bridesmaid will get up to dance next. Then they’ll expect you and me to get up.’
‘I’m okay with that, if you don’t mind my two left feet.’
‘It’s not that. It’s me. I can’t dance—I don’t dance—especially not in front of all these people.’
Her panicked voice reminded Sam all over again of the way Kate’s fears had paralysed her. Lizzie had been correct—he was smitten with Kate. But would he be able to help her overcome those fears so she could move on to a less constricted life? If she couldn’t, would there be any chance of a future for them?
He covered her hands with his much bigger ones to soothe their anxious twisting. ‘No one is going to force you. But I do think, as you’ve been such an important part of this wedding, you’re expected to get up on the dance floor. I’ll lead you on and we can shuffle.’
‘Shuffle?’
‘Stand there and sway to the music. That way you don’t have to dance, I don’t have to dance—and you won’t let your friends down.’
She took a deep breath and Sam could see what an effort it was for her. ‘All those years of dance training and it comes to this,’ she said with that bitter twist to her mouth.
‘You’re in a room full of friends,’ he said. ‘And do you know what? None of them know you’re afraid to dance.’
‘You’re right,’ she said, not looking at all convinced.
But when the MC invited the bridesmaid and groomsman to get up onto the dance floor, Kate let him pull her to her feet. She was a little shaky but Sam didn’t think anyone but he noticed it. He took her by the hand and led her onto the dance floor. She rested one hand on his shoulder and the other around his waist. Only he could feel her shivers of nervousness.
‘Now we can shuffle,’ he said. ‘Just think of it like an ambulatory hug.’
‘That’s a Sam way of putting it,’ she said, but she laughed. And he was glad he could make her laugh.
* * *
Kate had dreaded the dancing part of the evening. But standing there with Sam in the circle of his arms she felt safe, protected by his closeness. She trusted him not to let her make a fool of herself.
‘I’m stepping my feet from side to side,’ he said in an undertone she could only just hear over the music. ‘We have to look like we’re making an effort to dance. The people who know you’re a professional dancer will be feeling sorry for you for being stuck w
ith a shuffler groomsman like me.’
Wrong! No woman in her right mind would ever pity her for being in Sam’s arms. They’d envy her, more like it. She held on to him just a little bit tighter.
After the barefoot wedding ceremony, the bridal party had changed into high-heeled strappy sandals for the girls and loafers for the boys. She felt Sam’s shoe nudge her toes.
‘Hey, I felt that,’ she said. ‘Crushed toes aren’t part of the deal.’
‘I warned you I had two left feet.’
But she did as he suggested and stepped lightly from side to side. Securely held by Sam, as she tentatively started to move, the rhythm of the music seemed to invade her body. First her feet took off in something that was much more than a sideways shuffle, then her body started to sway. The old feeling came flooding back, the joy of her body moving—not just to the beat of the music but in step with Sam, who was also doing more than stepping from side to side.
Before she knew it, he had steered her into the centre of the dance floor and they were whirling around with the other couples. With a start of surprise, she realised she was being expertly led around the dance floor by a man who was light on his feet and perfectly in rhythm. She felt flushed with a relieved triumph that she had overcome her debilitating fear, and warm delight that she was back in the swing of things.
‘I thought you said you couldn’t dance,’ she said to Sam.
‘I said I had two left feet. But years of dancing instruction at my private boys’ school beat a bit of coordination into them.’
‘You had dance lessons at school?’
‘It wasn’t all rugby and cricket—though I was a far better football player than I ever was a dancer. We had to learn so we could dance with the girls from our corresponding girls’ school. And take our place in Sydney society, of course.’
‘I wish I’d known you when you were a schoolboy. I bet you were the hottest boy in your class.’
The Tycoon and the Wedding Planner Page 13