Malone's Vow. Sandra Marton
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Jessie took a step back, felt the bed hit behind her knees and sank down on the edge of it.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, and shut her eyes as if she could block out the memory. What was she doing, thinking about another man on her wedding day? She hadn’t even been looking forward to meeting Liam. William had talked about him endlessly, until she’d been weary of hearing the name and the stories that went with it. How Liam traveled the world. How he made fortunes and lost them on the turn of a card. How he went through women. She’d been appalled by some of the stories, fascinated by others and aware, almost immediately, that her sweet, sensible William was wistfully envious of Liam’s free and easy life.
She’d come up with a picture to go with the tall tales. Liam would be sexy as sin, gorgeous as the devil and twice as persuasive. In other words, he’d be the kind of man she most disliked.
As it turned out, she’d gotten it almost all right. The rehearsal dinner had been in full swing; William had been holding her hand and telling her how happy they were going to be. Suddenly he’d dropped her hand, leaped from his chair and said, “Liam, my man, you made it!” She’d looked up and there, in the doorway, she’d seen Liam Malone for the very first time, exactly as she expected: tall, broad shouldered, with a handsome face, a shock of silky black hair and emerald-green eyes.
What she hadn’t expected was the jolt of electricity that slammed through her when those green eyes met hers. Her heart had gone into overdrive and a pervasive heat had slipped under her skin. She’d felt all the reactions she’d sworn she’d never feel for any man, and she’d felt them for her fiancé’s best friend.
She’d wanted to bolt from her chair and run. Instead, she’d torn her eyes from Liam’s, stared blindly down at the table, and hoped, prayed, that the floor would open up and swallow her.
“Jessica, sweetheart,” she’d heard William say, and she’d forced herself to look up and smile. William had his arm slung around Liam’s shoulders and he was smiling, too, but Liam hadn’t smiled at all. He’d just watched her through narrowed eyes set in a face that might have been chiseled from granite.
Somehow she’d stood up, said all the right things, extended her hand and tried not to jump at the tiny spark that leaped from Liam’s fingers to hers.
“Static electricity,” she’d said with a forced laugh.
“Indeed,” Liam had replied, and the slightest smile had curved his mouth, a smile that said he knew exactly what she was feeling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Jessica.”
And that had been the end of it.
Jessie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
What was the matter with her? That had been the end of it. The moment had come and gone. Liam pulled up a chair, William settled in beside her again, and she’d listened while the two friends talked about old times. Her gaze had met Liam’s once again but she’d looked quickly away and, before she knew it, the evening ended. Come stay with us, William had said, and she’d found herself fearing the answer, but Liam had thanked him politely, said he already had found a place and went off to wherever it was.
“A hostel, for all I know,” William had said cheerfully, “or a penthouse. It depends on whether his luck’s been good or bad.”
Good, Jessie thought now, remembering the expensive cut of Liam Malone’s gray suit. Or maybe bad, considering the longer-than-it-should-have-been, black-as-midnight hair that curled over his collar. She thought, too, of what William had told her, that Liam liked to gamble. Poker was his specialty, William said, but Jessie knew that women would be Liam Malone’s specialty, women who were willing to trade one night in his bed for a lifetime of hot memories.
She stood up quickly and smoothed down her skirt. Where was Carrie? Better still, where was William? She needed to see him, put her hand in his, feel the warmth of his smile.
“Got ’em!”
Jessie swung around. Her maid of honor stood in the doorway, holding a bouquet of tiny pink roses, trailing baby orchids and lacy-white stephanotis in her hand.
“Would you believe the kid who delivered the flowers left your bouquet on a table in the—”
“Have you seen William?” Jessie hadn’t meant to sound so shaky, but the look on Carrie’s face told her she hadn’t succeeded.
“What’s the matter, Jess?”
“Nothing. I just want to see him, that’s all.”
“You can’t see him. It’s bad luck for the bride and the groom to see each other before the ceremony.”
It was worse luck to think about another man before the ceremony, but Jessie knew better than to say that.
“That’s just a silly superstition.”
“Maybe, but do you really want to tempt fate?”
“No.” Jessie gave a choked laugh. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Jess.” Carrie’s voice softened. “Honey, I keep telling you, all brides are jittery.”
“I know. And I’m not jittery. I just—I need some fresh air.” Jessie gathered up her skirt so the hem wouldn’t drag. “I’m going for a walk in the garden.”
“What?” Carrie stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You can’t! It’s only half an hour until the ceremony.”
“That’s plenty of time.”
“What if someone sees you?”
“Nobody will. I’ll go down the back stairs.”
“But—but you’ll get grass stains on the hem of your gown.”
“I won’t. See?” Jessie hoisted the gown higher.
Carrie sighed. “Well, who am I to argue with the bride? You want to go for a walk? Fine. We’ll go for a walk.”
“No!” Jessie swallowed hard. “No,” she said, more calmly, “really, I need a few minutes by myself.”
“It’s cold outside,” Carrie said worriedly. “At least take a jacket.”
“It’s okay,” Jessie said, “I know what I’m doing.”
But she didn’t. And the enormity of the lie scared the life out of her.
THE GARDEN WAS QUIET. All the hullabaloo was taking place inside the house. Liam was glad he’d decided to go for a walk where he could escape the necessity for social niceties.
He felt a lot better, too. For all he knew, Bill was