Have Gown, Need Groom. Rita Herron
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Hannah awoke with a start, streaked with sweat and tremors of unsated desire that shook her to the core. The sheets lay tangled around her aching limbs, the pearl ring glistening in the moonlight, the pillow beside her empty. A frustrated sigh tore from her lips as she realized she was alone, that the passionate union had been a dream.
She touched the unbroken circle of the ring’s band, the silly legend echoing through her mind. If you sleep wearing the ring the night before your wedding, you’ll dream about your future husband.
She dropped her face into her hands and groaned, a ball of confusion knotting her stomach. What was she going to do? She had dreamt all right—only Seth, her fiancé, had not been the man in her dreams.
Chapter Two
“I can’t marry Seth today.” Hannah inhaled a deep breath, but the waistline of her wedding gown was so tight it was cutting off the oxygen to her brain. Why else would she be dizzy?
Because she was having a severe case of cold feet minutes before her wedding.
Making matters worse, her father had pulled another one of his stunts—newspaper reporters and a TV crew had joined the guests to film every second of her ceremony. She had to go through with the wedding. Piano music wafted through the church signifying the seating of the guests.
“Of course you’re marrying Seth.” Mimi gestured toward her pale-green bridesmaid’s dress. “I’m not wearing this hideous chiffon thing for nothing. It makes me look twenty pounds heavier than I already am!”
“You’re not fat and you know it.” Alison rolled her dark brown eyes heavenward. “You have a beautiful hourglass figure most women would die for.”
“Yeah, you’re busty,” Hannah added, glancing down in despair at her own rather puny chest. Even with her new bra, she barely had cleavage. “I’m just not sure about me and Seth,” Hannah confided in a low voice. “What if he’s the wrong man for me? Grammy Rose met Seth last Christmas, what if she knew when she sent me that ring?”
“That’s crazy,” Mimi said.
“You know Seth is the right man for you. In here.” Alison curled her hand into a fist and pressed it over her heart.
Trouble was, she didn’t know. Hannah had long since forgotten childish dreams of love and romance. Her marriage to Seth was based on friendship, a mutual, almost business-like agreement they’d decided on months ago, thinking their professional relationship made them a suitable match.
Hannah gulped. Her brain whispered she’d be a fool not to marry Seth, he’d give her the stable, secure life she’d always dreamed of. But her body screamed for more: the heat, the raw hungry looks, the frantic, urgent coming together—the dark, virile man in her dreams. And her heart confused her even more, whispering that the man in her dreams was her soulmate. Foolish nonsense. She and Seth were soulmates, weren’t they?
She rubbed her temple where a headache had started pulsing. They were definitely…friends. And they’d almost made love a couple of times, but she’d backed away, claiming she wanted to wait until they were married. What if the real reason she’d held back was because there’d been no spark, no sizzle? What kind of marriage would they have together without passion? Without true love.
“Last night I dreamed I was making love to a stranger,” Hannah admitted in a strangled voice. “Why would I dream about another man when I’m marrying Seth?”
Mimi threw her hands in the air dramatically as she spun around to face Hannah. “Because Seth isn’t the kind of man who conjures up erotic fantasies.”
Alison narrowed her eyes at Mimi in a warning, then laid a comforting hand on Hannah’s shoulder. “Hannah, everyone has crazy dreams. They don’t always have to mean something.”
“Do you think I’m making a mistake?” Hannah asked.
“I think anyone getting married is a mistake,” Mimi replied dryly.
“Just because Mimi is anti-marriage doesn’t mean you can’t be happily wed,” Alison said softly. She handed Hannah her bridal bouquet, a huge assortment of white lilies with rose-colored satin ribbons streaming from the center. Hannah sniffed at the arrangement, the fragrance so sweet it made her eyes water.
“But what about the dream and the legend of the ring?” Hannah’s chest tightened. “I was supposed to dream about the man I was going to marry.”
“Maybe it was your way of having one last fling before you’re tied down to Mr. Boring,” Mimi offered with a devilish smile
Alison sent Mimi another warning glare and straightened the lace on Hannah’s neckline. “Silly folktale.”
Still unconvinced, Hannah remembered the dream kiss and knew in her heart she couldn’t hurt Seth by marrying him if she really didn’t love him. Her mother’s parting words rose to haunt her. I only married you, Wiley, because I was pregnant. A real marriage needs more…
Her parents had married because of her. Hannah definitely wasn’t pregnant, but had she agreed to marry Seth for the wrong reasons? For security, not real love. “Go tell Seth to come here.”
“But it’s bad luck for him to see you before the ceremony,” Alison argued.
“I don’t care. I have to talk to him.”
Mimi nodded and rushed out while Alison fanned Hannah’s face to calm her. Seconds later, Seth bobbed his sandy-blond head in, his expression perplexed.
His face fairly faded in front of her eyes, the shapely square jaw and chiseled face of the man from her dreams invading his space like a surreal sci-fi movie—Invasion of the Body Snatchers.
Like a flash of heat lightning, the vision disappeared and Hannah gaped at Seth, wondering why he fell vaguely short of her erotic fantasy. A woman’s toes should curl and her blood should boil when the man of her dreams kissed her, right? A woman should burn at a man’s touch. Maybe that passion was what her mother had been missing with her dad. She couldn’t marry Seth and repeat her mother’s mistake. She had to know now.
“What is it, Hannah? Did you forget something?” Seth asked.
Hannah framed Seth’s face with her hands and kissed him fervently on the mouth. Her toes would curl, her blood would sizzle, the passion would come, the hunger would surge. Magic would happen just like she’d dreamed when she was a little girl.
She kissed him harder.
Burn, baby, burn.
But her toes didn’t curl. Didn’t even twitch.
Her blood didn’t boil. Didn’t even bubble.
Darn.
At best, she was lukewarm.
The startled gasp that erupted from Seth’s throat when she finally ended the kiss didn’t sound like hunger or passion or even surprise. And her bright-red lip-prints streaked his mouth.
“I—I