The Doctor's Runaway Fiancée (15 page)

“I'm bringing the cake, remember?”

Sensing he wasn't going to win this one, no matter how promising the path had appeared only moments earlier, Andrew reluctantly released her. “I'm still not sure why they wanted a cake tonight when they're going to have one at the wedding.”

“A
traditional
one.” Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Josie's father is very conservative, as are most of Noah's family. The cake I'm bringing tonight is just for them.”

She'd shown him her masterpiece earlier, once she'd put on the finishing touches. It was what Sylvie called a “Lucky in Love” cake. Apparently Valentine's Day held special meaning to the couple, so the cake with its four layers tilted askew, containing hearts and stripes and checkerboard designs in black and white and red, was a tribute to their love.

“Are you ready to load it up?”

“I am.”

They were driving Ethel to the party. Andrew had never arrived at any kind of social event in a van. But neither had he ever worn cowboy boots and jeans to a party.

They slid the cake box into the back of the vehicle. Because Josie's parents didn't live far, it would be a quick trip.

The talk remained on cakes on the drive over. “Our cook used to make us these wonderful birthday cakes. They weren't nearly as intricate and creative as the ones you do, but Carmen had a knack.”

He smiled. “One year I asked for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles on my cake. She was horrified, but Donatello wielding a bo staff was on my cake.”

“Sounds cute.” Sylvie gave a chuckle.

“What was your favorite birthday cake?” Andrew wished he could withdraw the question the second it left his lips.

“I never had one,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Unless you count the ones I made myself.”

“Did you go all out or keep them simple?”

“Some years simple. Other times I experimented.” Her lips curved. “The only thing they had in common was they were always chocolate. I love chocolate cake.”

He made a mental note, thinking that was something he should have already known. But then, they'd never celebrated her birthday together. Because hers wasn't until the fall...

“Your birthday is next week.”

“A week from tomorrow, to be exact.” She leaned back in the seat. “October 1.”

The significance wasn't lost on him.

That was the day he planned to be back in Boston.

Chapter Seventeen

S
ylvie lost track of Andrew halfway through the party. After dining on pork and an assortment of fancy salad, they'd dug into the cake. Then it was time to do some serious mingling.

While the term “pig roast” might have conjured up a more casual image, this prenuptial dinner was no more a backyard barbecue than Sylvie was a blue blood.

The large open area behind John and Dori Campbell's massive ranch home opened onto federal land and provided a stunning view of the mountains. The rich green of the perfectly manicured lawn was interrupted at strategic locations by bright patches of colors, the fall flowers adding their fragrance to the scent of pine.

As the nights were turning dark earlier, the backyard had been draped in hundreds—probably thousands—of lights strung from large poles wrapped in silver and gold ribbon, interspersed with flowers.

Linen tablecloths in a rich platinum shade covered the long tables where the guests dined off fine china with sterling silver utensils and sipped the finest wine out of crystal glasses.

Sylvie had expected the wedding party and their “plus ones” to be in attendance, as well as Josie and Noah's family. She hadn't expected half the population of Jackson Hole. Even the mayor, Tripp Randall, was there with his wife, as well as his parents, who were friends of John and Dori.

Kathy Randall cornered her when she was getting a “Crazy Coyote” margarita. “Have you thought any more about joining us?”

“I've thought about it.” Sylvie took the frosty drink that reminded her of a morning sunrise and considered. She could continue as she had been, focusing primarily on her business. Or she could continue her recent forays into becoming part of the fabric of Jackson Hole. “I'd love to be part of your group.”

“That's wonderful news.” Kathy turned to the young man in the black pants and white shirt working the drink machine and smiled brightly. “I'll take one of those, too, please.”

She slid a companionable arm around Sylvie's shoulders. “I'm so glad you moved here.”

* * *

“That was nice of her to say,” Andrew commented when Sylvie told him of her conversation with Kathy.

“She meant it, too.” Sylvie expelled a satisfied sigh.

He was glad she was enjoying herself. They'd become separated after eating. Once Andrew had found her again, he'd taken her hand and guided her to the far end of the yard where a weathered fence separated the lawn from the wildlife area.

He knew this was her friend's party, but Josie was busy with her groom-to-be and Andrew wanted some alone time with her. Probably because of their earlier conversation, he felt unsure and apprehensive.

The knowledge that October 1 was next week had blown him away. He'd begun to feel as if he'd been in Jackson Hole forever, and having the real world intrude had been a rude awakening.

“Are you having fun?”

He hooked his boot on the bottom rail and slanted a glance in her direction. She sounded worried. She looked worried. He thought about teasing her but decided to be honest. “These are nice people.”

“I saw you speaking with Tripp. He's Kathy Randall's son.”

“He's an interesting guy. Did you know he used to manage a large health system back East before he moved back to Jackson Hole?”

“I didn't know that.”

“He's very progressive when it comes to the health needs of those who live in Jackson Hole.” Andrew turned to face Sylvie. “Talking to Tripp made me realize how isolated I'd become from the medical community in Boston.”

“Well, that won't be a problem for much longer.” Though her tone was light, something in her eyes warned of an approaching storm.

He inclined his head. “What do you mean?”

“When you return you won't be practicing medicine anymore, will you?”

He reached out for her, intending to what? Reassure her that he wouldn't be leaving? As much as he wished that didn't have to happen, he knew he'd be returning to Boston. But if he had his way, she'd be coming with him.

It was odd how it had all worked out. He'd come to Wyoming in order to get to know her better so that he could purge her from his system. Instead he was more deeply in love with her than ever.

The thought of spending the rest of his life without her was intolerable. He'd convince her to come with—there was no alternative.

Now, however, wasn't the time to push that request. Tonight they would enjoy the evening. Then they would go back to Boston, together.

* * *

Sylvie put the thought of Andrew's upcoming departure from her mind. Or tried.

It was Josie's wedding day. The twenty-fourth of September had dawned sunny and without a cloud in the sky.

Happy the bride the sun shines on.

She smiled as she watched Poppy, Josie's sister-in-law and matron of honor, adjust the bride's veil.

There had been a time when Sylvie imagined herself walking down the aisle to Andrew. She'd planned on making a life with him in Boston.

Though she'd been wrong to run off in the way she had, she believed that if she hadn't, she'd have withered and died away. In her heart she'd known what she wanted but hadn't been willing to demand it.

She hadn't let Andrew see her, not really. She hadn't had the courage to share her true self with him. For some reason, that had been easier to do here in Wyoming.

Maybe because she'd begun to change in the three months she'd been here. Or maybe because she felt a part of the world here, in a way that would never have been possible in Boston. The acceptance she'd found here had allowed her to grow.

In Boston she could have been married to Andrew for twenty years and still be an outsider. Pursuing a business would have been difficult given the social expectations for a member of the O'Shea family.

The heavy sigh was as out of place in the happy dressing area as a stick of margarine would be in her kitchen. Relieved that no one appeared to have noticed, Sylvie glanced into the mirror in front of her and fussed with her hair.

Cassidy had come in earlier to work her magic on the bride and her attendants. Sylvie's normally sleek do was now a riot of curls topped by a thin band of flowers. Her cocktail-length dress, a rich periwinkle blue, made her eyes look like violets.

When Cassidy had pulled out the huge cosmetics bag, Sylvie was worried. Normally her use of makeup was a few swipes of mascara and some lip gloss. But she had to admit, the gray shadow on her lids brought out not only the color in her eyes but made them look larger, more mysterious.

Sylvie smiled into the mirror at the ridiculous thought. The base made her skin look creamy with a hint of dew, and the lipstick—Passionate—added depth to her mouth.

She looked...pretty.

“I'm so happy we could share this day together.”

Sylvie turned, only then realizing that Josie had crossed the room to her. “You look amazing,” she said to her friend. “Like a princess.”

The sleeveless ball-gown-style dress with the intricate beading suited Josie's figure. She was a beautiful woman, but the unmitigated joy in her eyes made her glow.

“I can't wait to walk down that aisle and marry Noah.” Josie's voice softened the way it always did when she spoke of her future husband. She reached out and grasped Sylvie's hand. “Thanks for agreeing to be part of my special day.”

“I was surprised you asked me.” Sylvie had never quite had the nerve to ask Josie exactly why she'd asked her. “Especially only months from your wedding, when you already had enough bridesmaids.”

“I felt a connection with you from the beginning.” Josie squeezed the hand she still held. “It was as if we were sisters separated from birth. Are you sure your father's name isn't John Campbell?”

Sylvie laughed. “I'm honored.”

“When you plan your wedding, I—”

“That's a long time in the future.” Sylvie kept her tone light. “If ever.”

“I thought you and Andrew...”

“I suppose anything is possible,” Sylvie said and was relieved to see the worry leave her friend's eyes. “But this is your special day. We can discuss my special day another time. Deal?”

“Deal.” Josie gave her hand a shake. “I think it's time we do this.”

“It's definitely time for you to walk down that aisle.” Sylvie nodded for emphasis, her tone equally lighthearted.

In less than an hour, Josie Campbell and Noah Anson joined their lives together.

There was only one bad moment. That was when Josie looked into Noah's eyes when they said their vows. A promise made to stick tight through the good times and the bad, to build a life together.

Sylvie wasn't a crier. She didn't shed tears over sentimental cards or the commercials aired at holiday times. But seeing the promise in Josie's and Noah's eyes and knowing they meant every word brought tears to her eyes.

She blinked them back before anyone could notice or she embarrassed herself by letting them fall. They hit again when she was walking down the aisle at the end of the ceremony and her gaze locked with Andrew's.

The sight of him with that smile meant for only her had Sylvie's heart turning into a sweet, heavy mass in her chest. Was it her curse in life to want what she couldn't have?

A father. A mother. A home and a family. And now the man she loved.

For a second, as she returned to the front of the church to pose for pictures, she found herself wondering if it would have been better if Andrew had never come to Jackson Hole. Perhaps agreeing to spend the past few weeks with him had been a mistake, too.

He'd come to get her out of his system and she'd agreed to spend time with him. She'd owed him. Now that debt had been paid.

But she'd paid a high price, because now she knew what she hadn't known then. Without him her heart would never be whole again.

* * *

The reception at the Spring Gulch Country Club lasted until 1:00 a.m. There was a sit-down dinner featuring steak and lobster followed by dancing to a live band.

From the number of flowers, it appeared the family had bought out every florist shop in the state of Wyoming. Andrew sat beside her at the head table.

By the time he'd reached the age of thirty, Andrew had been in his share of weddings. He had to admit this had been one of the most enjoyable. Sylvie was in high spirits and had even allowed him to escort her out on the dance floor.

What she lacked in basic skills, she made up in natural rhythm. The truth was, he didn't care if she could dance a single step. He simply wanted her in his arms.

“You smell terrific.” It was a different scent, light and floral with a hint of sultry.

“French perfume,” Sylvie confided. “My bridesmaid's gift from Josie.”

“It's sexy as hell.” He twirled her around, then dipped her low. “But your other fragrance is still my favorite.”

Laughing and breathless, she clung to him as they straightened and then began to move to the lilting melody. “I don't usually wear perfume.”

“You do.” He leaned close, brushing his lips across her ear. “It smells a little like cinnamon and vanilla with a touch of a yeasty earthiness.”

She tilted back her head and gazed into his eyes. “Are you saying I smell like a bakery?”

God, she's lovely.

“If the apron fits, wear it.”

She laughed again. “That is so lame.”

“I'm having difficulty concentrating.” He lowered his voice so his next words were for her ears only. “I keep wondering what you're wearing under that dress.”

“Why don't we go home and you can find out?”

Andrew's body reacted to the words. He could see her lying stretched out on the bed wearing only those high heels and silk stockings.

He was ready to walk out the door, but as he glanced around the room, his enthusiasm was tempered by reality. It wasn't even midnight and the reception was in full swing. Still, he was ready to carry this party on home. Not that he wasn't having fun. The dinner, the champagne and Sylvie's amazing cake had made for an enjoyable evening so far.

Being seated at the head table had given him a chance to get acquainted with Benedict's brothers—also physicians—as well as spend time with his beautiful date, who sparkled tonight like the brightest gem in a showcase.

Yet it had been a long day. The knowledge that they didn't have to get up at three to bake—someone named Lexi Delacourt was filling in—meant he and Sylvie could enjoy themselves for as long as they wanted once they got home.

“How long do you have to stay?” He kept his tone nonchalant. She was a bridesmaid. This was her friend's reception. If Sylvie felt she needed to close down the party, she'd hear no complaints from him.

“I don't believe it matters,” she said. “We'll just need to say our goodbyes and then we should be able to slip away.”

Saying their goodbyes took a little longer than Andrew had hoped, but within forty-five minutes they were home.

The first thing Sylvie did when she walked through the door was to plop down on the sofa and slip off those sexy stilettos.

Andrew felt a pang when he saw them drop to the floor.

“It was a beautiful wedding, but I'm glad it's done.” She raked a hand through her curls, dislodging several flowers from the ring.

“Before you get too comfortable.” He held out his hand, and when she took it, he pulled her up against him. “Let's dance.”

He began to sway.

“We don't have any music,” she said even as her steps followed his.

He brushed his lips across her hair. “We make our own music.”

She gave a happy sigh and settled against him, her body molding to his, soft where he was hard.

Rock hard.

“If you wanted to dance,” she said into his shirtfront, “we could have stayed at the reception.”