The Wedding Date (18 page)

Then Elyse’s bottom lip began to tremble, and she gratefully switched her focus back to the bride. ‘Lyssy? Are you okay?’

‘I wish Dad was here.’ Two great fat tears fell down her cheeks.

Hannah’s lungs clenched so hard it physically hurt. She swallowed down the lump that had formed instantly in her throat. Blinked away her own tears. It had taken two long hours to do her make-up and she was not going through that again.

She turned to reach for her bag in search of tissues, but Elyse’s loud echoing sniff stopped her. Elyse didn’t need tissues. She needed her big sister.

She wiped her sister’s tears away with the pad of her finger. ‘I miss him too. Every day. But you know what? He would be
so
proud of us today. Looking all glossy and glam. Me the high-flying Melbournian. You marrying the man you adore. His girls have done good.’

‘We have, haven’t we? One thing I remember is him telling me he wanted nothing more than for us to be happy. And I’m happy. Really happy. You’re happy, right?’

Hannah blinked. Was she happy? Much of the time. Could she be happier? You bet.

‘Bradley would make you happy,’ Elyse said, mirroring her thoughts so closely Hannah wondered if she’d said so out loud. ‘At least tell me he’s good in bed.’

Good?
As words went, it was not even the correct language with which to describe what being with Bradley was like. French could maybe do it. Or Italian. Definitely Italian.

‘Those long fingers …’ Elyse shivered.

‘Elyse!’

But Elyse was looking at her with such hope she couldn’t deny her. Not on her wedding day.

‘Fine. He’s … It’s better than I ever imagined it could be.’

‘Then marry him!’

Hannah shook her head. Then shrugged. How could she explain to a woman about to marry the love of her life the sad little ‘what happens in Tasmania’ deal she’d made in order to get whatever scraps she could from the guy? ‘I don’t matter right now. Your life is yours. Not mine. Not Mum’s. So, Miss Bride, are you ready to go become Mrs Tim Teakle?’

‘I am,’ Elyse answered without hesitation. ‘I love him so much it hurts, with the most beautiful kind of ache right in the centre of my heart. It makes me want to laugh and twirl and sing. He makes me glow all over.’

‘Then what else is there to do but go out there and marry the guy?’

Elyse threw her arms around her and they hugged. Tight. For an age.

Hannah closed her eyes and tried to block out the realisation that Bradley was the only man she’d ever known who made her want to laugh and twirl and sing. And she was glowing so hard right then she could barely see straight.

Something tumbled inside her, as though she’d accidentally stumbled upon the final part of a combination lock.

Oh, hell no. She
loved
him, didn’t she?

She loved how he made her think. How he made her melt. Even how he made her halfway to crazy. He stretched her to her very limits and beyond.

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter as a bittersweet pain sliced through the glow.

The previous night, just before they’d made love, she’d run her hand down his stubbled cheek, looked him in the eye, and said out loud the words she was trying to use to convince herself. ‘You’re
so
the wrong guy for me.’

Bradley’s eyes had darkened. Then he’d all but lit up as he’d smiled and said, ‘Don’t you ever forget it.’

She loved him. But what did that matter when he was too damaged and too stubborn to love her back? What was she going to do?

What
could
she do but go out there and be the most supportive maid of honour ever? Do everything in her power to avoid Bradley so that he’d never,
ever
have a single clue how she felt. Excellent plan.

Then Hannah saw the time. ‘We’re late!’

Elyse pulled away and straightened herself up. Then with a grin she settled back on the
bench and said, ‘I love him to pieces, but it can’t hurt to keep him wondering just a little, right?’

Hannah sniffed out a laugh. Elyse clearly missed their dad as much as she did, but by God she was her mother’s daughter.

Bradley lounged in one corner of a pink velvet chaise against a wall of the Gatehouse ballroom.

Above him a pink chandelier jiggled gently in time with the music. Beside him pink peonies floated in a crystal bowl filled with water. He was drinking coffee from pink floral Royal Doulton china. Elyse and Tim’s wedding was the place pink had come to die.

The speeches were over. The cake was cut. The guests were a few champagnes down. ‘Time Warp’ blared from the speakers. The post-wedding party had well and truly begun.

But he didn’t much care what the other guests were up to. There was only one he was searching for. One who seemed to have slipped through his grasp a good dozen times that day, with the excuse of having something else maid of honourly to do.

‘Time Warp’ finished, and the sexy drum beat of ‘I Need You Tonight’ belted out. The older dancers fled for water and chairs, while the young ones cheered and danced on. Young
ones including the bride and, with her, a sleek brunette in a backless black dress.

Elyse might well have inherited her mother’s dance floor skills, but Bradley would never know. His eyes remained locked on Hannah.

Or, more specifically, on the sway of her hips that had nothing to do with skill or lessons and everything to do with her innate sensuality. On the creamy flash of leg when the split of her skirt swished just the right way. The way she tossed her long hair with the same complete and utter abandon she showed in bed.

Every sensuous move reminded him of how it felt having her wrapped around him, how her warm skin gave beneath his touch, how right it sounded when she breathed his name as she fell apart in his arms.

She raised her arms in the air. Eyes closed. Completely unaware of the pack of men dancing as near as they could get to her without alerting their dates.

A swan in a duck pond. She didn’t fit in there any more—if she ever had. She had outgrown the people and the place. She’d never stay.

He’d followed her and hijacked her holiday so as to make sure she’d return to Melbourne. He was now sure she would. He’d stayed in order to make sure she had a good time—in order to carry out his thanks for all her hard work. He
was more than certain she had. If they were the only reasons he was there, he might as well just leave a message with someone that he’d left, then turn and walk away.

He put his coffee on the table and leant forward, bracing his hands on his knees. Then he sat back in his seat.
Dammit.

‘It’s bad form to leave before the bride and groom.’

Bradley turned to find Hannah’s mother sinking down onto the other end of the chaise, a vision in apple-green. If she’d intended to stand out against the sea of pink, she’d succeeded.

‘You’ve outdone yourselves today, Virginia. I know a class production when I see one.’ He held out a hand to give hers a congratulatory shake. She slid a glass of beer into it instead. She lifted her own in salute, and downed half in one go.

Bradley took a more conservative sip. By the look in the woman’s sharp eyes he had a feeling he was going to need to be sober for what was about to come.

‘I know your type,’ she said.

And we’re off.

‘What type is that?’

‘You’re a player. Not a stayer. I know because, bar one, I’ve been drawn to men just like you my entire life.’

‘This concerns you how?’

She stared at him, her eyes a different colour from her daughter’s but with the same intensity.

Bradley placed his beer on the table and looked out into the crowd. ‘Bad form or not, would you prefer me to leave?’

Virginia laughed. ‘Please. Do I look like a bouncer?’

Bradley spared her a glance. She looked like trouble, not the mother of the bride. But she was also Hannah’s mother. As such, he had no intention of getting into a sparring match.

‘Nevertheless …’ he said, rising to leave.

She placed a taloned hand on his knee and pressed down hard. ‘I see the way you look at my daughter.’

He didn’t dignify what was clearly meant as an accusation with a response. Though his eyes did slide straight to the dance floor. Hannah had disappeared yet again. He swore beneath his breath.

‘Elyse is far more like me,’ Virginia continued. ‘She’s a shrewd operator. She swam through sharks to find her sweet minnow. As for Hannah? There’s not a cunning bone in that girl’s body. She plays fair, tries hard, and assumes that will lead her to green pastures. In life, work and love. So much her father’s daughter
that one. Sees the good in everyone—even those who don’t deserve it.’

Bradley’s head suddenly felt tight, as if it was being pressured from a dozen different directions. He looked to Virginia, who was watching him like a hawk. He said, ‘If you’re about to ask my intentions with regard to Hannah, you’re going to be disappointed. I am a private person, and as such my business is not open for discussion.’

‘Bradley?’

Bradley looked up to find Hannah standing over them. Tousled, pink-cheeked, gorgeous. His blood warmed ten degrees just looking at her. The woman who’d been avoiding him all day.

Then he saw her brow was furrowed in concern, while her eyes flicked between him and her mother. She must have felt the tension fair across the room.

‘Everything okay?’ Hannah asked.

‘Fabulous. Sit,’ Virginia said, patting the space between them on the chaise. ‘Bradley was just telling me this is the best wedding he’s ever been to. Weren’t you, Bradley?’

Hannah looked at him, eyebrows dipping deeper. ‘Did he also mention this is the
first
wedding he’s ever been to?’

Virginia laughed as if it was the funniest
thing she’d ever heard. ‘He did not. In fact he’s been quite tight-lipped about a good many things. Such as what the two of you think you’re up to.’

‘All righty,’ Hannah said, her tone impatient. Then she grabbed Bradley by the hand and hauled him to his feet. ‘Come on, boss. I feel like dancing.’

‘Darling,’ Virginia drawled, ‘I just want to get to know your friends.’

‘Leave it alone, Virginia. I mean it.’ Then Hannah’s hand wrapped tight around his and she put herself bodily between him and her mother. As if she was saying,
If you want to take a swing at him you’ll have to go through me.

What a woman. Five feet six and fifty kilos dripping wet, protecting
him,
six feet four inches of hard-won muscle on muscle.

No wonder she was so good at absorbing the million little dramas a day that came his way at work. Making his life seem easier just by being around. She’d been doing it her whole life. Only now, rather than seeing it as to his advantage, he wondered how many hits she’d have to take before she stopped feeling them. Stopped feeling anything. Before that beautiful bright Hannah light disappeared for ever.

He held her hand tight and curled it through
his arm. Time someone absorbed the drama for
her
for a change.

‘Lovely chatting to you, Virginia,’ Bradley said.

She raised her glass in salute. ‘Bradley. I hope you’ll at least find the time to say a proper goodbye.’

The double meaning hit right where it was meant to. The jab of a mother protecting her kid the only way she seemed to know how.

‘I’ll do my best.’

Virginia nodded. Then turned and called out to another guest, insisting they join her for a ‘drinkie’.

Hannah tugged Bradley’s hand and yanked him towards the dance floor as though her life depended on it.

‘What the heck was that all about?’

‘What?’

Her expression was deadpan, then she just shook her head and let the music take her cares away.

And watching her sway, her tousled hair swinging, sexy muscles playing across her beautiful bare back, hips bopping in time with the music, he wondered what his drink had been spiked with if he’d even thought about cutting this weekend a second shorter than it could be.

He tugged her into his arms, slid a hand
down her back, and breathed deep as she trembled at his touch.

One more day.

A
SLOW
song began.

Bradley saw Roger nearby, hitching his pants and fixing his bow tie, slicking back his ridiculously preppy blond hair, Hannah firmly in his sights.

He swung Hannah out to the end of his arm and growled, ‘This one’s mine,’ in the kid’s ear, before sweeping Hannah back into his arms.

With a sigh she didn’t even try to hide, Hannah slid her hands up his chest, over his shoulders and around his neck. He fought the intense shudder her touch created, but there was no stopping it.

‘I can’t believe it’s night already. The wedding’s over. Elyse made it up the aisle. Tim didn’t faint. Mum has yet to try to take the stage. Things couldn’t have gone better. And then, I have to say,
this
is very nice,’ she said, her voice husky as hell, her fingers playing gently with the hair at the back of his neck.

He wrapped her tighter. His erection pressed
into her stomach. She made no mention of it, even though there was no way she could avoid the heat and hardness of him through the thin fabric of her dress. She just shimmied and swayed and smiled, and waved to familiar faces dancing past.

There was no way he was walking off the dance floor with that kind of action going on in his pants. But unfortunately having this woman sliding her body against his meant it wasn’t going anywhere either.

Only when she shook her long hair from her shoulders and glanced up at him, a telling gleam in her eyes, did he realise she knew. And she was revelling in it. Then the minx only moved more softly, more sweetly against him.

He slid one hand into her hair and the other lower, down the gentle curve of her back and to the more daring curve below.

Take that.

Her pupils dilated till her eyes were dark as night. While sexual attraction sparked within them as bright and infinite as stars.

Then she waved to a guy on the other side of the room.

‘Who was that?’

She sighed. ‘Simon. High school crush.’