Last-Minute Bridesmaid

by Nina Harrington

  Kate walked slowly behind Alice and her uncle, trying to concentrate on not stepping on the train or letting it snag but the whole time her eyes instantly searched out and fixed on the tall man standing to the right of Charles Sheridan, who was waiting so patiently to finally claim his bride after so many years apart.

  Heath looked so handsome as he grinned at her that it took her breath away to know that his smile was not just for his new stepmother—but for her.

  Every step down the aisle was taking her closer to this remarkable man who she had loved for so long. And who loved her in return.

  He was her new family. He was where her heart was.

  In those strong arms she knew she’d found a home and love for the rest of her life.

  It was amazing what you could achieve in a weekend if you stepped out into the rain.

  EPILOGUE

  ‘Kate, you have to stop whatever you are doing,’ Saskia squealed. ‘I mean it. Right now. Put that sewing down! I don’t want you to stab yourself somewhere important. Because I have news.’

  Kate laughed down the phone at Saskia. ‘Hey, calm down, lovely. What’s going on?’

  ‘I have just had a call from Amber, that’s what’s going on. And do you know what that mad woman wants to do now? She’s not content with causing uproar in Kerala. Oh, no. Now Amber wants to hold her wedding at—wait for it—Elwood House. My house! On New Year’s Day. Kate! This is going to be my first wedding and it is only months away...and I think I’m hyperventilating.’

  ‘Take a deep breath, then another.’ Kate chuckled. ‘Well, our girl certainly knows how to choose the best. It’s a fantastic idea! In fact, I don’t know why we didn’t suggest it in the first place. A winter wedding at Elwood House. Oh, Saskia, it is going to be fantastic.’

  ‘I know. I’ve already been thinking through so many ideas my head is buzzing. But there’s more. She wants us both to be bridesmaids so I’m relying on you for the frocks. And, oh, Lord,’ she gasped, ‘I have just thought of something. The mother of the bride. Julia Swan. Help! I don’t know if I’m ready for this.’

  ‘Of course you are. And don’t worry about the frocks or Amber’s mother. We can handle those little challenges. No problem. We are goddesses, remember?’

  ‘Goddesses. Right. Well, this goddess is going to have a little lie-down now before she gets ready to host a business seminar for some accountants. Amber will call you and Heath later! Bye, gorgeous.’

  Kate pressed the handset to her chest, closed her eyes and sniffed away a wave of emotion. The first of their little band was getting married.

  On New Year’s Day.

  Then she blinked and shook her head. Saskia was right. That was only a few months away. Ah, well, she would just have to fit in two winter bridesmaids’ dresses and a wedding dress which was out of this world. No problem.

  The sound of laughter broke through Kate’s concentration and she looked up to see her two apprentice fashion students comparing designs for embroidered evening gloves for an Edwardian costume drama. Katherine Lovat Designs had taken off at the perfect time and an international TV company had commissioned her to create the gowns and gloves for all twenty episodes.

  There was enough work for Kate and her two apprentices and more to last for months and the best thing was—it was wonderful work. Creative, luxurious and challenging. She had spent the morning in London museums exploring the original designs worn by the characters in that period.

  She was one lucky girl.

  Kate sat back in her office chair and looked around the room that had been transformed in only a few months from the cramped space that her grandparents had used into a bright, clean and airy open plan studio. Wide, glass double doors had replaced the tiny windows, and it had been Heath’s idea to extend the workshop into a long conservatory room which was filled with flowering plants, bringing energy and life into the long late summer evenings.

  Of course, Heath had every right to develop the house as he wanted. He did own it.

  Heath had bought the building from her, after all. And the house next door. But they had worked together, side-by-side, all during the summer to clean and renovate the rooms, see its potential and fall in love with the house all over again as they fell in love deeper and deeper with each other.

  It was amazing what you could achieve in a few weeks with the help of the right architect and a dream team of craftsmen.

  The whole of the first floor of the two houses had been combined into one single large apartment with wonderful woodwork and artisan bookcases created by craftsmen.

  Best of all, the antique dealer’s cluttered shop and storeroom next door was now the spacious London office of Sheridan Press. Heath had created a modern technical marvel of an office with a meeting room which extended into the garden. The whole atmosphere of his office was unfussy, friendly and efficient and the two professional e-book designers who worked there cheerfully admitted that it was one of the best working environments they could ever want.

  Of course, it helped that Heath and his father had worked solidly for weeks to come up with an innovative design for the newly launched Sheridan Press which combined a wonderful hand-bound book with an enhanced e-book digital content which was totally interactive. The awards had come flooding in with orders from around the world.

  Alice had made a wonderful new home for Charles in a different part of Boston from the house he had shared with his first wife and they were frequent visitors. But London belonged to Heath. This was his domain, his speciality and his delight. He had made Sheridan Press the success it was and she couldn’t have been more proud of him.

  Time to share her news with the man who truly was her best friend.

  The beeper on her waistband flashed out a very private code in reply, which made Kate blush and she slid from her chair and strolled over into the garden room.

  Heath Sheridan was leaning on the small white-painted wooden gate, which separated the two houses, with a big cheesy grin on his face.

  Kate slid open the glass doors and stepped out into the early September air.

  She reached up with both hands to take his face, tilted her head and kissed him with all the warmth and tenderness in her body. His reply was to kiss her back hard enough to make her toes tingle and her knees melt.

  ‘Hi, handsome,’ she said, getting her breath back. ‘What’s new?’

  ‘Oh, the usual.’ He smiled and, in a pretend serious voice, said, ‘More awards, more orders, more news from Boston.’ Then he grinned. ‘How about you?’

  ‘Amber is coming home for New Year and has decided to get married at Elwood House. Many new frocks and gloves will be needed. But I wonder who she could possibly ask to help organise the event. Any ideas?’

  His reply was to press his lips against hers. ‘None at all,’ he whispered. ‘Because I am fully booked, and I am going to stay booked for a very, very long time.’

  * * * * *

  Look for Saskia’s story in

  BLAME IT ON THE CHAMPAGNE

  Coming soon

  Keep reading for an excerpt from Girl Least Likely to Marry by Amy Andrews.

  Look for these Harlequin KISS titles (September 2013) available wherever ebooks are sold!

  Connect with us for info on our new releases, access to exclusive offers, free online reads and much more!

  Subscribe to our newsletters: Harlequin.com/newsletters

  Visit Harlequin.com

  We like you—why not like us on Facebook: Facebook.com/HarlequinBooks

  Follow us on Twitter: Twitter.com/HarlequinBooks

  Read our blog for all the latest news on our authors and books: HarlequinBlog.com

  PROLOGUE

  Ten years ago, Hillbrook University campus,

  upstate New York…

  Cassi
opeia Barclay tapped the rim of her wine glass to the other three. ‘Of course it’s not the end,’ she said, looking around at her fellow flatmates. ‘Of course it’s just the beginning. Tonight may be our last night together but not for long. We’ve got the road trip coming up soon, remember?’

  The women all nodded in agreement although trust fund princess Reese looked quickly away, throwing back a hefty slug of her champagne. Gina, the Brit, followed suit, knocking her drink back with practised gusto. Southern Belle Marnie sipped regally, her good manners always on display.

  Denying her Australian roots, Cassie also sipped her drink. Not because of good manners, or in deference to the expensive Dom Perignon that Reese and her Park Avenue pay cheque gave them access to—Cassie couldn’t care less if she was drinking Dom or Dr Pepper—but because everything she did was calm and measured and logical.

  Why down champagne, posh or otherwise, when it only led to a hangover?

  Her first ever hangover had been here in this house, with these three women, and she had no desire to repeat the experience. That was the ultimate definition of stupidity.

  And Cassiopeia Barclay was far from stupid.

  In fact with an IQ of one hundred and sixty-three she was officially a genius.

  Their attention was returned to the nearby athletic field, in plain view of their deckchairs. The sky was starting its slow slide into evening but Hillbrook’s male track team could still easily be made out as they went through a training drill. It was a regular ritual for the ‘Awesome Foursome’, as they’d been dubbed, and Cassie joined in because these three women had been her family, accepting her social inadequacies without question, and they enjoyed it.

  But, try as she might, she didn’t get the fascination with either sport or the men who played it. Most of them were no doubt here on some trumped-up scholarship and Cassie found that pretty annoying. Why was it that there was no money to support scientific research but somehow there was always cash for another track field?

  Gina sighed as a particularly buff guy leaned over, touching his toes, exposing the backs of his legs, his shorts riding up to reveal a peek at one taut buttock. ‘Now, that is a well put together arse,’ she murmured, her British accent even more pronounced in this very American setting.

  Marnie rolled her eyes. The blonde from the Deep South was as different from the Englishwoman as was possible. She was petite and perky, with an innocence about her that stuck out like a sore thumb next to Gina’s brash sexuality. But Cassie had seen Marnie come out of her shell over the course of the year, much like her, and a lot of that was owed to Gina and Reese’s differing but vibrant influences.

  Reese smiled at Gina indulgently. She’d been doing that a lot this last week, Cassie realised belatedly. Smiling. Gina’s assertion earlier that it had something to do with a certain Marine had been confirmed by Reese’s startling confession that said Marine was the one.

  Imagine that! After a week!

  Sometimes Cassie felt like an alien in their midst, and it was nothing to do with her Australian accent. Even at nineteen they all seemed sophisticated women of the world next to her, introverted geek girl—Marnie included.

  Reese had just dropped the bombshell that she’d fallen in love at first sight, Gina was slowly working her way through the entire eligible—and not so eligible—male population of the United States, and Marnie was sighing over her friend’s big white virginal wedding.

  It was utterly perplexing, but also interesting—from a behavioural science perspective. How much more could her friends achieve if they locked up their hormones and concentrated on their chosen careers like she had? Still, these three women had opened her up to a whole world that she hadn’t been aware of before, and all new experiences were beneficial.

  Back home in Australia she’d led a largely solitary existence. Either at home with her parents, shut in her room and absorbed in some research or other, or at university doing the same thing.

  There’d been no girlfriends. No boyfriends. No late-night drinking or ogling track teams.

  But here at Hillbrook her ‘gal pals’—yes, according to Gina they were gal pals—hadn’t taken her social awkwardness, lack of fashion sense or inept dancing as an excuse. They’d dragged her to nightclubs and frat parties, and to bars where they served cocktails by the jug and Karaoke was King. They’d loaned her dresses and shoes, done her make-up and styled her hair and, most importantly, they hadn’t taken no for an answer.

  She had a lot to thank them for. She would look back on her year in the US as a social experiment, with her as the subject, from which she had collected some very useful data.

  ‘One day, Gina,’ Reese said, interrupting Cassie’s train of thought, ‘you are going to fall hard and fast for some guy, and I hope I’m going to be there to tell you I told you so!’

  Marnie raised her glass. ‘Cheers to that,’ she said.

  Gina scoffed in her very English way with a toss of her glossy dark hair. ‘To hell with that.’

  The others laughed as they returned to their regularly scheduled programming—the track team. Cassie followed suit, smiling at Gina’s running commentary but perplexed by it at the same time. She was deeply thankful that jocks did nothing for her and that she was far too rational to be swayed by hormones.

  Sure, as a scientist she understood that human beings were under the influence of their biological imperative to mate, but she also believed in head over heart. Certainly Gina wouldn’t be in the quandary she was now if she’d been thinking with her brain instead of her ovaries.

  Sleeping with Marnie’s brother Carter last week had really rattled Gina. Cassie was generally fairly oblivious to nuances, but she’d have had to be deaf, dumb and blind to miss Gina’s edginess. Quite why Gina was edgy Cassie had no idea. What was done was done. And it wasn’t Gina who was engaged to be married, was it?

  Which was exactly what she’d told Gina when she’d confessed the transgression to her last week and Gina had sworn her to secrecy.

  It was at times like this that Cassie was glad she’d vowed never to fall victim to love. How could she when she simply didn’t believe in it? And, even if she did, she didn’t have time for the messy, illogical minefield of it all. Not while there was a big universe to study which was infinitely more fascinating than any man.

  A shout of triumph from the track brought Cassie back into the conversation flowing around her.

  ‘Mmm, that’s right, my lovely blond Adonis.’ Gina’s commentary continued. ‘Give your mate a hug, then.’ The men complied, as if Gina had yanked their strings. ‘Ding-dong,’ she cooed on a happy sigh, and Marnie and Reese laughed.

  Cassie watched the display of male camaraderie, rolling her eyes as they high-fived and man-hugged. They reminded her of gorillas. Next they’d be beating their chests and picking nits off each other. One thing was for sure: should she ever drop a hundred IQ points and end up with some man he would never be of the jock variety.

  ‘Tell us about the stars, Cassie.’

  Cassie glanced over at Marnie, whose head was dropped over the back of her chair as she pointed to the first star just visible in the sky. ‘That’s Venus, right…evening star?’

  Cassie smiled. Marnie was forever talking about the night skies over Savannah and had loved having her own personal astronomer at her beck and call. ‘Yep,’ she confirmed, looking at the pinprick of light in the velvet sky.

  ‘Will we be able to see Cassiopeia tonight?’ she
asked.

  Cassie shook her head. ‘It’s too light here. When we’re on our road trip we’ll stop at the Barringer Crater in Arizona. We’ll sleep under the stars and I’ll show you then.’

  It was the main reason Cassie was going on the trip. Time with her gal pals would be great, but she’d always wanted to see the crater site formed when a meteorite had ploughed into the earth fifty thousand years ago, and that was her priority.

  ‘You speak for yourself,’ Gina butted in. ‘The only stars the Park Avenue Princess and I are sleeping under are of the five-star variety. Isn’t that right, Reese?’

  Reese nodded. ‘Er…yes,’ she said, looking quickly away and taking another decent slug of her champers.

  ‘Carter proposed to Missy under the stars at the Grand Canyon. Isn’t that romantic?’ she said, her voice dreamy. ‘Our families were on holiday together. Missy and I stayed up all night talking about how wonderful it was.’

  ‘Bless their hearts,’ Gina said, mimicking Marnie’s Southern drawl.

  It had taken Cassie a few months of Gina teasing Marnie over the quaint Southern phrase to realise it could be used to mock as well as to sweeten. Glancing at Gina’s tense profile, she guessed this was one of the mocking times.

  ‘Missy wants a star theme running through the reception,’ Marnie continued ignoring Gina’s sarcasm. ‘She’s spending a small fortune on this gorgeous black drapery that billows from the ceiling and twinkles with thousands of tiny lights…’

  Cassie didn’t really understand why you’d spend good money on creating the illusion of a starry sky when the real thing was up there for free. It certainly didn’t seem to be very effective budgeting. But weddings were as much a mystery to her as the notion of love, so she gave up trying to figure it out.