The Best Man And The Bridesmaid. Liz Fielding

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The Best Man And The Bridesmaid - Liz Fielding Mills & Boon Cherish

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she decided. ‘What do you have in mind?’

      ‘Nothing exciting. I wondered if you’d like to come to my brother’s wedding, that’s all.’

      ‘Brother as in brother?’ He glanced across at Robert. ‘Or brother as in ‘‘good friend’’?’

      ‘My brother Michael is the one getting married. Robert is just the best man.’

      ‘Then I’m sorry, because I’d love to have come. There’s nothing I enjoy more than a good wedding. Unfortunately, I’ll be in Perth.’

      She considered the logistics of getting him from Scotland … Then the penny dropped. ‘You mean Perth, Australia, don’t you?’

      He was grinning again. She was beginning to suspect he advertised toothpaste for a living. ‘I’m afraid I do. But we could still have that date. Give your brother’s wedding a miss and come with me. We could have a wedding of our own.’ On the other hand there was nothing boring about a man who issued that kind of invitation. Eccentric, perhaps. Over-endowed with imagination, maybe. Drunk, even. Although he didn’t sound drunk.

      ‘Well, that’s different. But I’m afraid I’ll have to say no. I’m fourth bridesmaid, you see.’ Although the fact that her mother would never speak to her again if she jetted off to the other side of the world with a complete stranger simply to avoid being fourth bridesmaid might be considered a positive reason for accepting his invitation.

      Of course, if she ran away to get married she might just be forgiven. It would certainly put her out of reach of temptation where Robert was concerned. No comfortable backsliding into gap-filling if she was in Australia. Unfortunately, Nick and his teeth were part of the package.

      ‘They won’t miss one bridesmaid, will they?’ he pressed, when she didn’t immediately answer.

      ‘I’m afraid they would. Three would look so untidy on the photographs. Besides, I make it a rule never to accept proposals of marriage from men I’ve only just met.’

      He wasn’t deterred. ‘We’ve got three days before I leave. Plenty of time to get to know one another. Why don’t we start with a dance?’

      ‘Three whole days?’ she repeated as he relieved her of her glass in a masterful manner and, taking her firmly about the waist, pulled her close. He was more heavily muscled than Robert. Undoubtedly the consequence of hours spent on a surfboard getting that improbable tan. ‘You don’t waste much time, do you?’

      ‘Life’s for living, not wasting.’

      he had a point, but she laughed anyway. ‘You’re crazy.’

      He looked hurt. ‘Why? Because I want to get to know you really well? Suppose we were made for each other and you went to this wedding and I went back to Oz and we never found out?’

      ‘That’s a risk I’ll just have to take,’ she said, although she didn’t think it was that big a risk. She had the strongest suspicion that he meant getting to ‘know’ her in the physical sense, rather than intellectually. In fact she suspected that the frank, open, bighearted act was just that. An act. He was just looking for a girl to fill the gap between now and catching his plane, and he wasn’t particularly fussy about which girl.

      Okay, so she didn’t object to filling Robert’s little gaps. But she loved Robert. Well. Maybe not right at this moment. At this moment she felt like telling him that he was crazy, too. That life was a two-way street and that if he wasn’t careful he’d end up old and lonely. Of course she’d just be wasting her breath. And who was she to tell him that he’d end up old and lonely, when it was far more likely that she’d be the one who was everyone’s universal greataunt rather than anyone’s grandmother?

      He’d probably still be pulling all the best-looking nurses when he was in his dotage, and she’d probably be the sap pushing his Bath chair.

      ‘Wouldn’t you like to find out?’ Nick asked, as he came to halt in a corner.

      She hadn’t been paying too much attention to what he was saying, but this seemed to require an answer. She looked up. ‘Find out what?’

      Stupid question. The lights were dim, they were in one of those little out of the way corners, and he needed no further invitation to lower his mouth to hers and kiss her.

      It was pleasant as kisses went. Nothing heavy. Just a testing-the-water kind of kiss, and Daisy pulled back before it got too serious, looking up at the big, bronzed hunk with just a touch of regret. Her mother would have really loved Nick.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I think I’d rather just leave it like this. With you wondering.’ She already knew. Had known since her cradle that there was only one man in the world for her.

      For a moment Nick looked puzzled. Then he laughed. ‘I think I like you.’

      ‘You see? Right decision. Will you excuse me?’ She eased herself out of his arms, turned, only to be confronted by Robert.

      ‘You haven’t forgotten our deal, have you?’ he said, glaring past her at Nick.

      Deal? He was still planning on taking her home? ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Robert, go away and flirt with someone your own age,’ she said crossly.

      ‘Later. Let’s dance.’ He didn’t wait for an answer, but slipped his arm about her waist. Not like Nick. There had been nothing subtle about the way Nick had held her. He’d held her close, leaving her in no doubt what he was thinking. Robert, of course, didn’t see her that way. Usually by this time he’d forgotten all about her. Was he really so upset about Janine’s desertion, or was the party lacking in the kind of girls that caught his fancy? ‘I’d ask if you were having a good time, but the question would appear to be redundant.’

      ‘It’s been interesting,’ she said, as they moved together in time to the music. Her cheek was against the peachy twill of his shirt and she could feel the slow thudding of his heartbeat. He didn’t dance with her often enough for her to get used to it. Each time was special. The chance to touch him, hold him, feel the hard muscle and bone of his shoulder beneath her hand, breathe in the scent of him, warm and faintly musky. His arm tightened about her possessively and for a long blissful moment she allowed herself to drown in the pleasure of their closeness. Then, because breaking away was so very hard, she added, ‘I’ve already had one proposal of marriage.’

      It had the desired effect. He stopped, pulled back a little, his forehead creased in a frown. ‘No, I mean really. You seem a bit edgy. Not quite your usual self. You would tell me …’

      ‘What?’

      There was a long pause before he said, ‘Well, if things weren’t … all right.’

      ‘All right?’ Of course things weren’t all right. He wasn’t supposed to take it for granted that she was joking about the proposal, for a start. Okay, so she was, but, really, he might try and play along. ‘Well, I may have broken his heart,’ she said, ‘but I’m sure he’ll recover.’

      ‘What?’ He frowned. ‘What on earth are you talking about?’

      ‘He lives in Australia, you see. If I went to Australia I couldn’t be Ginny’s bridesmaid. Could I?’

      ‘Er, no, I suppose not.’ He seemed

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