“Discount?” asked Alec, brows raised as Cece caught Theo’s hands going for the small white and lavender wedding cake.
“Surely you won’t charge your own family full price.” Jack held up his glass to propose a toast.
“Surely,” Kiefer echoed.
“To the brides,” said Jack, his soft gaze catching Charlotte’s, transporting her back to being four years old, when her big brother walked on water.
“The stunningly beautiful brides,” he finished.
“The brides,” the small group echoed.
“We won’t charge you for the château,” said Alec.
Jack nearly choked on his champagne. “I was joking,” he sputtered, while Cece patted him on the back.
Charlotte gave Alec an astonished look. “But the damage.”
He shrugged. “We’ll-”
A loud crack rent the air, and the entire group reflexively cringed. Then something groaned, and there were far-off shouts. The wedding party rushed to the pathway in time to see Isabella, Ridley and three crew members dash out of the pool house.
A cameraman scrambled to the bottom of a stately old oak tree. The oak groaned a second time, keeling over in slow motion, falling with increasing speed until it landed on top of the pool house, squashing it flat.
David shouted something unintelligible, arms waving as he stomped toward the cameraman. But he missed a step, tripped on a cable and fell headfirst into the pool.
“Wow,” said Alec, taking a sip of his champagne and resettling his arm around Charlotte’s waist.
“Don’t see that every day,” said Kiefer.
“Yeah, that’ll be coming out of David’s fees,” Jack put in, lifting his glass to his lips.
Charlotte anchored her arms around Alec’s waist, tipping her head up. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”
He kissed her soundly on the lips, the sweet champagne on his tongue tickling her senses and making promises for the night ahead.
He drew back, gazing into her eyes with raw longing. “And welcome to mine.”
BARBARA DUNLOP
is a bestselling, award-winning author of numerous novels for Harlequin and Silhouette Books. Her books regularly hit bestseller lists for series romance, and she has twice been short-listed for the Romance Writers of America’s RITA® Award.
Barbara lives in a log house in the Yukon Territory, where the bears outnumber people and moose browse the front yard. By day, she works as the Yukon’s Film Commissioner. By night, she pens romance novels in front of a roaring fire. Visit her Web site at www.barbaradunlop.com.
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