Wedding Wishes. Liz Fielding
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‘Gideon?’ she prompted after what seemed like an age.
‘Yes,’ he said, obviously coming back from somewhere deep inside his head. ‘I have no doubt that you’ve hit the nail firmly on the head.’
What? She turned to look at him. He too was staring up at the ceiling but, sensing her move, he turned to look at her. Smiled. Not the slow killer smile that melted her inside. It was superficial, lying on the surface, a mask…
‘Now we’ve got all that out of the way, are we going to be room mates?’ he asked. ‘Or, since it’s too late to fly out of here tonight, am I to be banished to the office floor?’
She sighed dramatically. ‘I thought my apology covered that, but here’s how it is. One,’ she said—she would have ticked it off on her finger, but he still had her hand firmly in his—‘since I’ve been informed by Cryssie that you accepted her invitation to the wedding, it’s clear that you have no intention of going anywhere until after the weekend.’
‘We were both just being polite,’ he assured her.
‘Cryssie is a sincere and charming woman. She certainly meant it, even if you didn’t so you’d better start thinking about a wedding present.’
‘Done. And two?’ he said.
‘What?’
‘You said one. I’m assuming there was a two, possibly a three.’
‘Oh, yes. I just couldn’t get past how quickly you could sort out a wedding present.’
‘I’m making a donation to their new charity.’
‘She told you about that? You two did have a nice chat.’
‘Such a sincere and charming woman,’ he agreed. ‘And there’s no such thing as free PR. Two?’
‘Two,’ she said, playing for time while she recalled her train of thought. Oh, yes…‘Since Health and Safety rules cover everyone—even the boss—it seems that, like it or not, we’re stuck with one another. Control freaks united.’
‘And three?’ he enquired hopefully.
‘There’s no three.’
‘Pity. I liked the way that was going.’
‘Okay, here’s three,’ she said, finally breaking the connection, letting go of his hand and sitting up. ‘You’ve got a reprieve from the office floor, but I haven’t yet decided whether or not you’re going to sleep on this one.’ Then, as he pushed himself up so that he was leaning against the timber wall, ‘Well,’ she said, ‘didn’t you make a fast recovery once you got your own way.’
‘I didn’t say I couldn’t move. I just didn’t want to take a chance on it going again and knocking myself out on the wardrobe door.’
‘Just left it for me to walk into,’ she said, getting up and crossing to the wardrobe, picking out a change of clothes. ‘So you really will be leaving in the morning? I’ll be happy to pack for you,’ she offered quickly, afraid her voice might have betrayed the little flicker of disappointment that had shimmered through her at the thought of him leaving. ‘Just in case your back decides it would rather stay here.’
‘What about the wedding?’
She glanced back at him. He had that delicious rumpled look that only men could pull off without having to spend hours in front of a mirror getting it just right. Too tempting.
‘If the donation was big enough, I’m sure Cryssie would forgive you. Didn’t you say something about having to be in Patagonia?’
‘Did I?’ He shook his head. ‘My deputy has gone in my place.’
‘But you’re a control freak. Won’t leaving something that important to a deputy cause you serious stress?’
Gideon hadn’t given Patagonia a thought since Josie Fowler had waltzed onto his deck wearing nothing but a bathrobe that morning. He’d been having far too much fun teasing her, enjoying the fact that she gave as good as she got, but as she closed the wardrobe door he saw the white full length dress cover hanging over the wardrobe door.
‘What the hell is that?’ he demanded, all desire to tease draining away at the shock of seeing it here, in his room.
‘It’s Cryssie’s dress.’
‘Obviously. What’s it doing here?’
‘We’ve got a photo shoot in the bridal suite tomorrow,’ she reminded him. ‘Exquisite gossamer-draped bed, candles, rose petals, fabulous PR for Leopard Tree Lodge and—’
‘I don’t want it in here,’ he said, on his feet before he had even thought about it.
‘Gideon!’ She put out a hand as if to support him.
‘I’m fine!’ he said, brushing her away.
She didn’t back off, but stayed where she was for a long moment. Only when she was sure that he wasn’t going to collapse did she finally let her hand drop, take a step back.
‘It’s not only the photo shoot,’ she said, shaken by his reaction, anxious to make him understand. ‘Tal will be arriving tomorrow afternoon.’
‘So?’
‘Well, it’s obvious. He can’t see it before the big day. It would be unlucky.’ Unlucky…
The word shivered through him and he put his hand flat on the wall, not because of his back but because his legs, having taken him up like a rocket, were now regretting it.
‘It’s not staying in here,’ he said stubbornly.
‘This is my room, Gideon,’ she returned with equal determination. ‘Your decision, remember? And that dress is my responsibility. It’s not leaving here until I take it to Cryssie on her wedding day, along with a needle and thread to put the last stitch in the hem, just as I do for all my brides.’
‘Tradition, superstition, it’s a load of damned nonsense,’ he said furiously. ‘What about the tradition that he doesn’t see her before the wedding? They’re sleeping together, for heaven’s sake.’
‘That’s on the day of the wedding, Gideon. And he won’t. Her chief bridesmaid will spend the night before the wedding with Cryssie and Tal is going to bunk down with his best man…’ Her voice trailed off and she groaned as she realised that plan had flown out of the window when the number one bridesmaid had switched partners.
‘Problem?’ he asked.
‘Just another challenge for Mr Fix-it,’ she replied sharply. Then, her face softening in concern, ‘Maybe you should sit down before you try, though. You look a bit shaky.’
‘I’m okay,’ he said and, pushing himself off, he made it unaided as far as the sofa before the bell rang again. He remained on his feet, helping himself to