“I beg your pardon?”
“I interpret dreams,” Winnifred declared. She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Not professionally, of course.”
“No, of course not,” Amanda said, and couldn’t help smiling.
“Never mind.” Winnifred turned back to Cecilia. “The bride-to-be should go first.”
“Let me think.” Cecilia pressed her lips together. “I don’t believe I dreamed anything last night.”
“Nonsense. Of course you dreamed something. Everyone dreams, every night,” Winnifred said. “Your brother is an excellent example.”
Cecilia exchanged a look with the other women. “I’m not sure Nick’s dreams could be the best example of anything.”
Giggles muted by hands pressed to lips rippled through the room as Winnifred took exception to Cecilia’s comment.
But Amanda heard none of the conversation, only the thudding of her own heart as it suddenly beat double time in her chest. Her breathing quickened as it always did when Nick was mentioned.
Tall, handsome Nick. Black hair. Green eyes.
Was he in the house somewhere? Amanda wondered. Here, under the same room with her? Steps away? At this very moment?
She let her heart run wild, her mind fill with memories of Nick.
The first time she’d laid eyes on him.
Their moonlit encounter in the snow-covered forest. The night he’d ruined her for all other men.
Amanda drew in a breath and stilled her runaway thoughts. If Nick was, in fact, here in the house tonight, it wouldn’t matter. He may as well be miles away.
Really, Nick had always been miles away.
Amanda sank onto the bed and pressed her lips together. She couldn’t wait to get this wedding over with and go back home.
Nick Hastings sank lower in his leather chair and stretched his long legs up, propping his heels on the corner of his desk. At the end of this tiring day the house was finally quiet—and it hadn’t been quiet for weeks. Thanks to the wedding.
A short time ago he’d heard the doorbell chime and feminine voices drift down the hallway to the study, where he’d closed himself in after supper. More of Cecilia’s friends stopping by, or yet another guest arriving for the big day.
Across the desk from Nick sat his two oldest friends, Ethan Carmichael and Aaron St. John. Both were dark-haired, neither quite as tall as Nick; all of them had just passed their thirtieth birthday. Between them sat the bottle of Scotch they’d been working on for the past hour or so.
Occasions such as this were a rarity for the three of them. With large companies to run, they seldom had time for an evening of cigars, open collars and conversation.
Which was probably a good thing, Nick decided as he took another sip of Scotch. His head had started to buzz three drinks ago.
“Thank God this wedding nonsense is almost over with,” Ethan declared, puffing his cigar. He elbowed Aaron, who was sitting next to him. “Now you can get on with the honeymoon.”
Ethan fell into a fit of laughter, and Aaron grinned stupidly. Nick dropped his feet to the floor and thumped his fist on the desk.
“That’s my sister you’re talking about.”
Ethan gulped down his laughter with a swig of Scotch.
“Yes, your sister. A woman for whom I have the utmost respect, and whom I love more than life itself,” Aaron said. “But after so long a time, you can understand how I’m…anxious to have this whole thing over with.”
“A hard-fought battle,” Ethan agreed, saluting him with his glass. “How long have you and Cecilia been engaged now?”
“Fourteen months, two weeks and five days,” Aaron said.
Ethan shook his head. “This wedding business…damn lot of nonsense, if you ask me.”
“How many parties and the like?” Nick asked.
Aaron rolled his eyes. “Dinners, receptions, engagement parties and celebrations—hell, I’ve lost count. Not to mention the hours spent with the florist, the clergy, looking at china patterns, talking about honeymoon plans.”
Ethan grinned and sipped his drink. “But well worth it after you walk down the aisle.”
Nick rapped his knuckles against the desk and pointed at Ethan. “None of that kind of talk.”
A light knock sounded and the door opened. Cecilia stepped inside the study, smiling at the three of them.
“I see you boys are behaving yourselves,” she said.
They clattered to their feet. Aaron, the first to rise, crossed the room to stand beside her.
Cecilia glowed. Nick had seen that happiness on her face for months, growing more luminous as the weeks passed. Now, with the wedding two days away, she was positively radiant.
She smiled up at Aaron and he down at her. They moved close, as if drawn to each other instinctively, but were careful not to touch.
They were in love. Any fool could see it. Nick wasn’t sure why it made his chest ache a little.
Must be the Scotch, he decided, and took another gulp.
“Can I steal you away for a few minutes?” Cecilia asked, gazing up at her intended.
Aaron followed her out the door without a backward look.
Nick watched the two of them disappear and the door close. He and Ethan dropped into their chairs again.
“Seems it’s worth it,” Ethan said. “The wedding hoopla, I mean. Worth it to be married, from the looks of those two. Lately, I’ve found myself thinking that I wouldn’t mind being married.”
Nick’s gaze came up quickly. “You’re joking.”
His friend shrugged. “No, not at all. I guess I’ve come to the point in my life where having a wife, looking toward the future, producing children, seems, well…it seems—”
“Appropriate.” Nick sat back in his chair. “Actually, I’ve been thinking the same.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “Really.”
The idea had come as a surprise to Nick, too. He’d had no time or energy for such thoughts until lately.
Since his father’s death six years ago, Nick had focused his efforts first on maintaining, then increasing the wealth his father had left him to manage. Nick had the welfare of his mother, his sister and a parade of relatives on his shoulders. The house, still under construction at the time, had had to be to finished—and
