A Perfect Bride For Christmas (12 page)

again, this time his voice low and muffled. “What’s wrong?”

It amazed Zoe that she could even think, let

alone speak to the man who was intent on turning her life upside down. “I got the letter a few minutes ago, so don’t play dumb with me. How did you think I’d react?”

“To what? You’re not making sense. I don’t know what letter you’re talking about, and to tell you the truth, this isn’t really a good time for me.”

“When would be a good time, Alex? When hell

freezes over?” Zoe hit the end button and plopped down on one of the chairs, tapping the folded letter against the glass tabletop. “He is so going to pay for this.” She lifted the letter up, using it the same way a conductor uses a baton. “If he thinks a mouth swab and a DNA report makes a father, he’s got another think coming.”

Cherri sat down in the opposite chair. “Well, if you’re carving him up and handing him out, I’d like a piece of that mighty fine ass.”

Zoe shook her head and dropped it into her

hands. “
Et tu
, Cherri?”

Her nanny shrugged and leaned back in her

chair, crossing her ankles in front of herself. “Great Neptune’s knickers, I’m just saying.”

“My ass.”

“No, his ass.”

****

turned into a snake. It might as well have, for all the hissing and biting on Zoe’s end of the conversation.

What the hell was she talking about? What letter?

None of it made sense, especially on top of

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Sydney breezing into the waiting room to see Jesse’s head on his shoulder.

“Who’s this,” she snapped as she pulled off her gloves. Alex half-expected her to slap Jesse across the face with them. He had no desire to have his fiancée land in the ER.

He got to his feet and held out his hand to Jesse.

The imp fluttered her eyelashes up at him as she hooked her arm through his. “This is a family friend.

Jesse Saurs, meet Sydney Stanford, my fiancée.”

Jesse held her hand out to Sydney. “I wondered

when I’d meet the woman who finally took Alex off the market.”

Ignoring Jesse’s offered shake, Sydney made a

production of putting her gloves in her coat pockets.

“Oh, he’s off the market,” Sydney stood ramrod

straight. “Permanently.”

“The women of Kansas City will grieve when

you take your vows.” Jesse gave his arm friendly tug. “Cut it out, Jesse,” he growled as he

disentangled himself from his friend’s clutch. “I need to talk to Sydney.”

Jesse grabbed up her purse. “Well, I’m going

downstairs to the coffee shop for a caramel

macchiato.” She hitched it over her shoulder and winked at him. “Can I get anything for either of you?”

Sydney sniffed, and he shook his head. Off she

went, leaving him to deal with the fall out. Paybacks were hell.

“I really need to talk to you about the reception.”

Sydney stood in front of him, hands on her hips. A cross between a pout and a smile told him he was in for stormy weather. Right now, he didn’t care.

Sydney could take a flying leap.

“This isn’t the time to talk about wedding

plans.” Irritation crawled up his spine with sharp 92

A Perfect Bride for Christmas

little spikes of anger. His well-planned life fell to shit, and he stood right in the middle with a big red target on top of his head. As Mom used to say when they were kids, it was time to hitch up his big boy pants and start digging.

“It’s the perfect time, don’t you see. With your mother being out of the pict—I mean, with her

injury, she won’t be able to host the reception.”

Sydney tried for a look of compassion, but it didn’t fit well on her beautifully painted face. The corners of her mouth tipped down, and she managed to squeeze out a tear. “Her house is too small to accommodate all m—our guests. I’m trying to think what’s best for all of us, darling.”

The fear of the tear, at least Sydney’s, no longer left him paralyzed and uneasy. “You know, Syd,

you’re absolutely right.”

She gave a little hop and clapped her hands.

“Thank you, thank you. I knew you’d see I was

right,” she squealed. Her hand reached into her purse for her phone. “I’ll contact the country club and that tacky little caterer—”

Alex stepped away for fear of strangling Sydney.

“Why, don’t you do that? Better yet, tell them the wedding is postponed.”

She made it halfway through her contact list on her phone when his words finally hit her brain. Her fingers stilled. “Postponed? I don’t understand.”

“Simple—no wedding, at least not now.”

“Why?”

“I’ve got a lot of complications in my life—or

hadn’t you noticed?” It was like explaining the Theory of Relativity to a Shih Tzu.

“So? You think I don’t?”

“My mother is in surgery. I have three children I didn’t know about until a couple of days ago, and a sister that just crawled out of the woodwork. I think that trumps figuring out if I want a sit-down or a 93

Dyann Love Barr

buffet dinner at the goddamned country club.”

Here it came, regardless of the time and place.

Sydney turned bright red. She clenched her hands into fists. “Where do I fit in? You don’t have time for me—not anymore. It’s either your mother or those kids of yours. Are you sleeping with that woman? Is that why you haven’t made love to me since they showed up?”

“My mother is in the hospital.” Alex raked his

hands through his hair. “What did you expect me to do, ask permission to stay with her?”

“Yes.” Sydney’s face turned an ugly red. “We had plans tonight. Did you forget Yolanda Zucker is expecting us for dinner?”

“I don’t care if the President invited us to the White House. That’s my mother in the operating

room. And right now, sex is the last thing on my mind.”

“I’m not going to postpone the wedding because

of your mother, three brats, or the bitch who

whelped them.” Her voice pitched higher until she screamed out the words.

Alex didn’t bother checking to see if anyone was watching, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, bypassing a coffee-toting Jesse in the hallway, and headed towards the stairwell. Sydney beat at his back, screaming the whole way down to the ground floor. There, at the end of a long hall, he spied
an exit sign. He hit the long metal handle on the door with his hip.

“Put me down, you bastard.” Sydney let out

another screech. “Security!”

At first, Alex only intended to take her outside for a one-on-one screaming match. He hated

confrontation outside of the courtroom, but this one had turned into a doozy.

Cold air slapped at him as hard as the woman

slung over his back. Snow packed the sidewalk, and 94

A Perfect Bride for Christmas

drifted high in a swale where the side of the building met a sapling topped berm.

Son of a bitch.
Zoe’s stinging words from this morning ricocheted through his brain. “And now

bastard,” he muttered. “Here you go. This ought to cool you off.” He dumped Sydney in the soft drift and stood for a second, watching her sputter and clear the snow from her face. He left her in the drift. The words spouting from those perfect lips, lips that had touched him in so many intimate and mind-boggling ways, would put a truck driver to shame.

“
Wait until Daddy hears about this.” Sydney tried to wallow her way out of the drift. She

thumped the snow with her fist. “I’ll make you

sorry,” she shrilled. “The wedding is off, it’s over. I never want to see or hear from you again.”

In spite of Sydney’s tantrum, old familiar hurts welled up. The swift pain of rejection cut through his heart and dulled to an aching throb. No more, he’d had enough. “That’s fine. Keep the ring or better yet, sell it and go shopping.” Alex tugged on the door, intending to go back the way he came. No such luck.

It had automatically locked behind him. Just as well, he needed the few minutes it would take to make it around the building and to the main entrance to chill out.

He had to call Zoe. She’d said she’d received a letter from him. Alex hadn’t sent anything to her, so what set her off? By the time he got to the lobby, he decided to wait a day. Zoe wouldn’t listen to

anything he could say to defend himself from

whatever terrible thing she thought he’d done. His mother had to be his first priority.

He stepped out of the elevator. The scents of the hospital, especially after the stringent, yet fresh, smell of snow, assaulted his nose. Antiseptic and misery mixed in equal doses. His watch said it was nearly five. The sky outside the windows darkened, 95

Dyann Love Barr

clouds skittered low and full of another three inches according to the scrawl running across the bottom of the television screen in the waiting room. Jesse sat in one of the black chairs, her eyes glued to a romance novel. He flopped in the chair, next to her, stretched out his legs, and slapped his hands over his eyes in a futile attempt to shut out the world.

“Stick a fork in me. I’m so done.”

“What’s wrong, Cupcake?”

He lifted his right hand and shot Jesse a killing glance, or it would have been if his eyes were made of lasers instead of balls of rubbery goo. “You tell anyone you call me Cupcake, and you’re a dead

woman. Dead, really most sincerely dead.”

“Ah, come on.” She closed the book but kept her place marked with her finger. Alex stared down at the naked, tattooed, sword-wielding man on the

cover. “When did you start reading romance? I

thought you were strictly an action-adventure,

murder-mystery girl?”

“A friend recommended it. I’ve already read

most of the mysteries and thrillers they had in the hospital gift shop. Thought I’d give this one a shot.

Not too bad, really.”

“Zoe used to read those. She always had one on

her desk.”

“Zoe Hillman?”

“Yeah, can we change the subject?” He rubbed

his nose.

“Okay, how about—hmmm, that was quite a

show you put on for the nurses. They were panting like a bunch of groupies after Johnny Depp. I mean, a hunky guy carrying a woman over his shoulder?

The stuff of dreams, Cupcake.” She held her book up in his face. “The stuff of dreams. By the way, where is the blushing bride?”

Alex pushed the book away. “Cut it out.”

The heat of a blush rose up his neck and to his 96

A Perfect Bride for Christmas

face. He shot a look over at the nurse’s station. One, a blonde with big breasts, gave him the once over, letting him know she would jump at the chance to

‘comfort’ him. The other lowered her eyes in a flash.

The stain on her cheeks told him he’d caught her staring.

“I left her in a snowdrift to cool off.” He

straightened in his chair. “Sydney called the

wedding off.”

The book dropped to the floor, along with Jesse’s jaw. “Just don’t tell anyone yet. Okay? I’ve got enough to think about, I don’t need to try to answer a lot of questions.”

Jesse nodded the same instant the doctor came

out. Alex jumped up, his hands felt sweaty, his heart jerked with worry. “How is she doing, Dr. Singh?”

“We already knew the break was bad, but clean.

I put a couple of pins in it to stabilize her ankle.

She’ll be coming out of recovery in a few minutes and I’ll have the nurses tell you which room she’ll be in.” Dr. Singh shook his head. “I left her bossing around the nurses in recovery.”

Alex smiled, letting out a whoosh of relief.

“Sounds like Mom.”

“I want to keep her here for two days. She’ll be on crutches for the next few weeks. Do you have someone to help take care of her after she goes home?”

“I live next door,” Jesse piped up. “But I’m gone most of the day.” She glanced over at Alex. “Would you like me to check in with her in the morning and at night?”

The doctor shook his head. “She’ll need someone to stay with her twenty-four-seven. I’ll have the nurses give you a list of businesses that provide visiting nurses.”

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Dyann Love Barr

Alex shook his head. “I’ll stay with her. It’s not a problem.”

“I gave her something to put her back to sleep

tonight. So don’t be worried if she seems a little out of it right now.”

“Thank you so much.”

“No problem, Mr. King. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to check on a few other patients before I leave.”

Dr. Singh stared out the window at the snow

still falling, muting and diffusing the lights of the building and adjacent parking lot. “I’m not even sure I’ll make it home.”

The doctor left a lot to think about in his wake.

Alex needed to pick up some clothes from his

apartment, a few things from his office. But first, he had to call his brothers. They were going to tear his head off for waiting this long.

“Mr. King?” the blonde called out to him.

He was
so
off blondes. He didn’t count Zoe’s tousled brown hair with the blondish streaks in that group.

The woman thrust out her chest while the small, brown-haired nurse never so much as peeked up

from her work at the computer. “Your mother has been transferred to room 203.”

“Thank you.” He headed toward the elevators

with Jesse following right behind.

“If you have any questions,” Blondie called out,

“Just ask for Barbie.”

“Barbie.” Jesse giggled under her breath and

looked down the hall at the nurse’s station. “Fits.”

“Shut up, Jesse.”

He couldn’t have been happier if it were the

Pearly Gates opening up instead of the elevator doors. Alex punched the button for the second floor repeatedly as if it would close the door faster.

Jesse gave him a smirk. “Way to go, Cupcake.”

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The soft pillow hugged to her chest didn’t bring a Zoe a lick of comfort. She sat curled up on the big, cushy sofa, feet swathed in heavy wool socks, as she watched a documentary on the West Indies with its voodoo and pirates. Usually she loved the History Channel but today, she couldn’t concentrate. Even the jasmine tea she loved cooled on the end table.