by Lisa Bingham
Dammit, there had to be something she could do!
He won’t back out of his commitment to Dannette, a tiny voice whispered inside her, and Riley instantly squelched it.
She’d come up with a plan by the end of the evening, or die trying.
“Riley, honey pie! Over here.”
Taking a deep breath, Riley gave Mabel MarquisDunne an encouraging wave. Evidently, Dannette wasn’t the only one who considered Riley to be a best friend.
HOURS LATER, Dannette described the wedding rehearsal as a rousing success. The bridesmaids and groomsmen arrived early, the entire ceremony was blocked out within twenty minutes and two trial runs were made before the wedding coordinator proclaimed the event complete. Immediately, Dannette invited the participants to gather at a local bistro for dinner and dancing.
Through it all, Alex tried to keep his mind on the events at hand. Time and time again, he reminded himself that this was his wedding rehearsal, that Dannette was to be his bride. Even so, he found it hard to reconcile the fact that the vivacious woman with the stark haircut and flaming pink, bandage-style dress was the same person he’d proposed to so long ago. The woman he’d thought would be a stable influence, a dependable role model, a gentle anchor in life’s rough seas.
Instead, she’d become Superwoman and vamp combined. She flirted with the groomsmen, joked with her bridesmaids and became the veritable life of the party.
While the groom-to-be couldn’t keep his eyes off the best “man.”
At the restaurant, matters didn’t change. If anything, Dannette’s good mood intensified even more—and Alex couldn’t blame alcohol for her behavior, since she was sipping club soda. He watched as her whole body became suffused with a joy he didn’t understand, and that joy led her to behave in a completely uninhibited way. She teased, she flirted, she laughed.
What had that Armand person done besides cut her hair?
Finally, knowing he couldn’t delay the inevitable, Alex approached his future mother-and father-in-law and introduced himself.
Mabel MarquisDunne was a sturdy woman with a helmet of iron-colored hair and lips twisted in a perpetual tight-lipped grimace of disappointment. Her husband was equally colorless, equally lifeless, equally disappointed.
“I’m so glad the two of you could come to Chicago for the wedding,” Alex stated, after introductions were made.
The couple stared at him. Obviously, they didn’t think his comment required any sort of response.
“You have a wonderful daughter.”
Silence.
“I hope that you trust me to keep her happy.”
Nothing.
Alex was tempted to wave his hand in front of their eyes to ensure that they weren’t in a trance, but he resisted the gesture.
“Can I get you anything?”
At that, Mabel’s smile became a little more genuine. “Thank you, honey lamb. I’d like a Scotch, no water. Make it a triple.”
Alex’s brows must have lifted ever so slightly, because she offered a trill of laughter and clutched her throat. “All that practicing has made my throat dry.”
“What about you, Walter?” Alex asked, turning to his future father-in-law.
“He’ll have a cola,” his wife stated before the man had a chance to reply—and for a brief moment, Alex thought he detected a flicker of desperation in the man’s eyes. He had his body poised as if he was ready to bolt, but his wife slid her hand through his arm, and his face fell into an expression of such a pitiful resignation that Alex knew the man’s marriage had to be a living nightmare.
“I’ll be right back.” Going to the bar, he ordered the drinks, then instructed the bartender to add a “spot of rum” to the cola.
When he returned, Mabel tasted her drink, smacked her lips in delight, then asked Walter, “How’s your soda, sweeturns?”
It was obvious that the man hadn’t wanted a soda in the first place, and wanted to taste it even less, but he took a dutiful sip.
In an instant, Alex knew Walter had detected the rum. His brows rose, a spark of life entered his eyes and he fairly beamed. “It’s divine,” he drawled with patent appreciation.
Alex grinned, sharing the man’s secret enjoyment. As he passed the couple on his way to greet the ushers, he heard Walter say, “I think I’m going to like having that young man in the family.”
In the family.
Was he really about to become a part of the MarquisDunne family? Would Mabel and Walter become the grandparents of Alex’s children? Would Alex be asked to join them for Christmases and family reunions?
Taking a deep breath, he wondered why the thought filled him with panic.
Turning, he eyed Dannette on the dance floor. She was being held close by a man Alex immediately recognized as the stripper from the shower. The two of them were gyrating as if the world’s revolution depended on each twitch of their hips.
When Riley joined him, Alex asked, “What’s he doing here?”
Riley shrugged but couldn’t hide her delight. “Dannette invited him. Jealous?”
Alex searched his feelings and discovered that he wasn’t jealous. Curious, surprised, amused, but not jealous.
“I don’t think so.”
“You sound surprised,” she commented wryly.
“I’m still trying to figure out what happened to her hair.” He glanced at Riley, noting the way her own curls had been shaped to the contours of her face. “I like yours, by the way. I didn’t have a chance to tell you earlier.”
He watched a rare flush steal up her cheeks and couldn’t help adding, “In fact, you look beautiful. Is that outfit new?”
She was wearing a pair of full silk trousers and shell. Over the top, she’d donned a flowing black chiffon jacket.
“A friend bought it for me in Istanbul.”
“Ahh. A male friend?” He tried his best to sound casual.
But she answered his question with complete sin cerity. “You are my only male friend, Alex.” Her lips tipped ruefully. “I’m going to miss you.”
“We’ll see each other as often as possible.”
“Will we?” She gave him a doubtful look. “I don’t think that would be wise, do you?”
He knew what she meant. He knew their relationship had changed irrevocably the moment they’d made love. His body still burned with the memory of Riley’s passion, her hunger.
“After the marriage, things will return to normal and—”
She snorted with disbelief. “I don’t think either one of us believes that statement.”
“I suppose not. But I think you should know that you’ve wakened a part of me that I didn’t even know I had. Now that it’s there, I don’t think it will ever go away.”
When she met his gaze, her usual good humor was gone, replaced by naked yearning.
“I want you, Alex. I’ve never wanted any other man like I want you.”
His mouth grew dry with his own wanting, his own needs for the future.
“But I’ve grown very fond of Dannette,” she said, sighing. “Never in my life would I have believed that I could honestly like any fiancée you might pick.”
She straightened his tie, paused to caress him with her thumb. “Dannette is special. If she’s the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, I won’t interfere—but I won’t stick around to become an entanglement, either.”
“You know I wouldn’t do that to you—or to Dannette.”
“Then your willpower is stronger than mine, because I don’t know how long I could last before I begged you to take me to bed again.”
Her lips quirked in her customary grin—briefly, endearingly. Then she squeezed his arm one last time and brushed past him to make her way home.
ON THE EVE of Alex’s wedding, Riley tried telling herself that she should leave him alone to enjoy his last night of freedom. But the temptation to be with him one more time, without the thought of a wife lurking in the background, could not be resisted.
In
structing him to dress casually, she informed him that she was going to throw him a bachelor party—as was her duty as the best man.
“Did you hire a stripper for my party, too?” Alex asked as they stepped into the parking garage and she took command of his car.
“Considering the trouble I received for the last exotic dancer, I wouldn’t think you’d even ask.”
In the end, he discovered that she’d finagled courtside tickets to a Bulls basketball game. She treated him to hot dogs smothered with toppings, beer and fresh popcorn.
Afterward, they went to a local pub where they’d often met for a game of darts and a drink. Sitting in the back, away from most of the noise and—the “singles action,” they became nostalgic, reminiscing about their childhood together, and how they’d developed such an unusually strong friendship.
“I wish you luck, Alex,” Riley offered, knowing that the hour was growing late and the groom-to-be should be getting his rest.
“Thanks.”
“Dannette is a great person. You chose well.”
“Perhaps I should have chosen you first,” he said quietly, and her heart lurched in her breast.
“Why didn’t you?” she asked with a mouth that had grown suddenly dry.
“I didn’t think it would be fair to ask you to be anything more than a friend.”
“Oh.”
Well, you have your answer. He would have asked if you hadn’t been so intent on your wandering ways.
“I’ve always thought of you as more than a mere friend, Alex.” She took a sip of the watery soda in her glass. “I think I’ve probably always felt something…sexual about you. I just never dared to admit it to myself.” She paused before finishing, “Until someone had already snapped you up.”
He reached across the table, taking her hand, stroking the backs of her fingers in a way that still made her skin tingle.
“Even knowing that, I don’t think I could have clipped your wings, Riley. I want a family—more than I’ve wanted anything before. But you’re a woman who needs her freedom. You love your work, and it would be unfair to deny you the ability to travel at a second’s notice.”
“I could have given it up,” she blithely insisted.
“No. I couldn’t do that to you.” He released her, becoming suddenly serious. “Just as I can’t break Dannette’s heart. Not at this late date. No matter how much I want to avoid tomorrow’s ceremony, I have to go through with it” He hesitated one split second before saying, “But I’ll leave her at the altar if you’ll ask me to.”
The words were light but infinitely sincere.
Riley’s brows lifted. “So you love me?”
She sounded so casual that she could have been inquiring about the weather.
“With all my heart.” His tone matched hers.
“You enjoyed making love with me?”
“Oh, yes.”
His tone was so deliciously suggestive that she laughed.
“And we would have done it over and over again, if it hadn’t been for Dannette?” she continued lightly, almost teasingly.
“Yes.”
Again he reached for her hand, squeezed it.
She returned the gesture. “I’m glad.”
Her response was innocuous on the surface but fraught with feeling underneath.
“I think it’s time to get you home,” she announced, standing. “You have to be at a wedding tomorrow; and I’ve got a tuxedo to iron.”
“Your wish is my command,” he replied, rising and taking his place beside her.
Together they made their way into the darkness and strode to the parked car. As she unlocked the doors, Riley said, “Alex?”
“Hmm?”
He regarded her from his side of the car.
“I want you to be happy.”
“I know you do, brat. Just like I want the same for you.”
THE DAY of the wedding arrived with a glorious pink sunrise—one that Riley saw from beginning to end. Not because she’d been looking for it, but because she hadn’t slept at all that night. She’d lain awake, thinking of all that had occurred between her and Alex, all that might have been if she’d only admitted the depth of her feelings soon enough.
In the end, she’d packed her bags with everything but her tuxedo, spent a good hour trying to recreate Armand’s effect with hair and makeup, then had gone to the kitchen to brew herself a pot of coffee strong enough to peel paint off the walls.
After three cups and a detailed view of the coming morning, she’d left a note on the refrigerator saying she would join James and Alex at the church. Then, hailing a cab, she’d taken her meager belongings to the brownstone and carried them upstairs to the unfinished apartment. Locating a packing crate, she’d sat on the rough surface and fiddled with her camera equipment until the clock on the wall informed her that it was time to meet Alex at the church.
Slinging her Nikon over her shoulder, she loaded the roomy pockets of her trousers with film and made the short journey on foot, arriving at the church at the same time that Alex pulled into the parking lot.
Riley waited for him on the curb.
“You look like hell, Alex!” she called, purposely raising her voice so that a pair of elderly guests started.
“Thanks to you.”
She grinned. “You ordered all those beers yourself. Never once did I twist your arm.”
“Yada, yada,” he groused good-naturedly, sliding his arms into his own jacket.
Neither of them spoke for some time. Finally, needing to break the silence between them, she gestured to her camera. “I thought I’d take a few shots. As mementos.”
“I’d like that,” he said, his voice deep, calm and rich.
But Riley wasn’t fooled by his cool facade. He might have looked as if he had everything in control, but she sensed that he was a bundle of nerves inside.
“It’s a lovely day for a wedding.”
Alex made a cursory, inspection of the churchyard. “Yes. I suppose it is.”
His lips tightened for a fraction of an instant, then he said, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, Riley.”
She stiffened, not wanting to hear what he had to say. No matter how much either of them might regret the ceremony to come, they couldn’t change the course of events. Not without hurting too many people.
“Don’t say it,” she said quickly.
“I have to.” He took her hand. “This whole setup is wrong, Riley.”
“No. Don’t talk like that” She tried to wriggle free, but he wouldn’t release her.
“This isn’t the way to start a marriage—with regrets and secrets,” Alex continued.
“What secrets? What regrets? We’re both happy, happy people with nothing to hide.”
He went on as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “I spent the whole night awake, pacing the floor.”
She’d known that. She’d heard the floorboards creaking.
“I need to talk to Dannette. I need to explain what’s happened between you and me.”
Riley wanted to accept the lifesaver he was extending to her. She wanted to believe that with a simple conversation—a confession of sorts—she and Alex could find a way to make everyone happy.
But then her eyes fell on the churchyard filled with flowers, on the guests chatting and laughing with one another, on the peep of a pink silk runner extending up the aisle, and she knew that events had already been set into motion and there would be no stopping them.
Wrenching herself free, she took a step backward. “No,” she stated firmly. “You’ll do no such thing. You see, Alex, I’ve been doing some thinking of my own, and you were right. I’m not the sort to settle down. The chocolate shop and the brownstone were a mistake, and any sort of a commitment would be an even worse one.”
She shrugged as if such news was no concern to her. “You want children—and frankly, I just couldn’t handle a baby right now. There are too many things I would like to do before I tie myself down. I’m thinking of
accepting a job in Asia.”
“I see.”
But even as she lifted the camera to her eye, turned away and began snapping pictures, she knew she hadn’t convinced Alex of anything. He knew her far too well.
Needing to put some distance between them, she used her camera as a shield of sorts and began to wend her way toward the church. She wasted a whole roll of film taking shots of details she hadn’t even seen. Pausing at the top of the marble steps, she reloaded, then took a deep breath.
Get hold of yourself, Riley. Only a few hours more and you can quietly disappear.
Focusing the camera again, she finally became aware of the antechamber of the church—and when she did, she had to lower the Nikon so that she could see it with her own eyes.
Good grief!
The church had been transformed into a veritable fairyland. Tiny lights had been wound around the pillars of the choir loft. Flowers and greenery of every description had been tucked into each niche and draped from each surface. Hundreds of candles had been lit and placed in hundreds of candelabra.
To one side, Riley saw that a knot of women were waiting—the bridesmaids, presumably. Each was dressed in a designer sheath, her hair swept back in a French knot studded with orange blossoms. There were six flower girls ranging from a toddler to a preadolescent girl. The only boy—a ring bearer—was buffing the tops of his shoes with the backs of his trousers. In the church itself, the pews were quickly filling to capacity, and many guests were standing in the outer aisles.
This was not a ceremony that could be canceled with a minimum amount of fuss. No, this marriage was doomed to occur, no matter what Alex and Riley might want. Postponing such an extravaganza would be equal to canceling the parting of the Red Sea. Even Moses himself couldn’t have prevented the ceremony. Pestilence, plague and famine would have no effect.
This wedding would take place.
“DANNETTE IS LATE.”
Riley offered Alex her best don’t-worry-about-it shrug, but the gesture had little effect. Alex pushed his sleeve back, peered at the face of his watch, then resumed pacing the narrow space in front of the first pew. The narrow bench was the only one not commandeered by guests seeking a good view of the nuptials.