White Lace and Promises (6 page)

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Authors: Debbie Macomber

BOOK: White Lace and Promises
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Everything was happening so quickly that Maggie didn’t have time to react. Glenn’s breath fanned her temple and a shiver of apprehension raced up her spine. They were playing a dangerous game. All that talk in the moonlight about the sanctity of marriage had affected their brain cells and they were daydreaming—no … pretending—that this moment, this happiness, this love, was theirs. Only it wasn’t, and Maggie had to give herself a hard mental shake to dislodge the illusion.

A long string of cars followed closely behind as the other members of the wedding party caught up with the Cadillac. Watching Glenn weave in and out of traffic, Maggie was impressed with his driving skill. However, everything about Glenn had impressed her today. Fleetingly, she allowed her mind to wander to what would happen when he left on Monday. She didn’t want this weekend to be the end, but a beginning. He lived in Charleston, she in San Francisco. The whole country separated them, but they were only hours apart by plane and seconds by phone.

When he turned and caught her studying him, Maggie guiltily shifted her attention out the side window. The way her heart was hammering, one would think she was the bride. She struggled for composure.

Janelle’s family had rented a huge Victorian hall for the dinner and dance. Maggie had no idea that there was such a special place in San Francisco and was assessing the wraparound porch and second-floor veranda when the remainder of the wedding party disembarked from the long row of cars that paraded behind the Cadillac. Wordlessly, Glenn took her by the elbow and led her up the front stairs.

Everything inside the huge hall was lushly decorated in antiques. Round tables with starched white tablecloths were set up to serve groups of eight. In the center of each table was a bowl of white gardenias. A winding stairway with a polished mahogany banister led to the dance floor upstairs.

Being seated at the same table as Steve and Janelle added to the continuing illusion. Somehow Maggie made it through the main course of prime rib, wild rice, and tender asparagus spears. Her appetite was nonexistent, and every bite had the taste and the feel of cotton. Although Glenn was at her side, they didn’t speak, but the communication between them was louder than words. Twice she stopped herself from asking him what was happening to them, convinced he had no answers and the question would only confuse him further.

When Janelle cut the wedding cake and hand-fed the first bite to Steve, the happy applause vibrated around the room. The sound of it helped shake Maggie from her musings, and she forced down another bite of her entrée. The caterers delivered the cake to the wedding guests with astonishing speed so that all the guests were served in a matter of minutes.

Glenn’s eyes darkened thoughtfully as he dipped his fork into the white cake and paused to study Maggie. He prayed she wasn’t as confused as he. He didn’t know what was happening, but was powerless to change anything. He wasn’t even convinced he wanted anything different. It was as if they were in a protective bubble, cut off from the outside world. And although they sat in a room full of people, they were alone. Not knowing what made him do anything so crazy, Glenn lifted his fork to her mouth and offered Maggie the first sample of wedding cake. His eyes held her immobile as she opened her mouth and accepted his offering. Ever so lightly, he ran his thumb along her chin as his dark, penetrating eyes bored into hers. By the time she finished swallowing, Glenn’s hand was trembling, and he lowered it.

Promptly, Maggie placed her clenched fingers in her lap. A few minutes later, she took a sip of champagne, her first that day, although she knew that enough was happening to her equilibrium without adding expensive champagne to wreak more damage.

The first muted strains of a Vienna waltz drifted from the upstairs dance floor. Maggie took another sip of champagne before standing.

Together, Steve and Janelle led their family and friends up the polished stairway to the dance floor.

When he saw the bride and groom, the orchestra leader stepped forward and announced: “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Grant.”

Steve took Janelle in his arms and swung his young bride around the room in wide, fanciful steps. Pausing briefly, he gestured to Glenn, who swung Maggie into his arms.

Again, the announcer stepped to the microphone and introduced them as the maid of honor and best man. All the while, the soft music continued its soothing chords, and they were joined by each bridesmaid-and-usher couple until the entire wedding party was on the dance floor.

As Glenn held Maggie in his arms, their feet made little more than tiny shuffling movements that gave the pretense of dancing. All the while, Glenn’s serious, dark eyes held Maggie’s. It was as though they were the only two in the room and the orchestra was playing solely for them. Try as she might, Maggie couldn’t pull her gaze away.

“I’ve been wanting to do something from the moment I first saw you walk down the aisle.”

“What?” she asked, surprised at how weak her voice sounded. She thought that if he didn’t kiss her soon she was going to die.

Glenn glanced around him to the wide double doors that led to the veranda. He took her by the hand and led her through the crowd and out the curtained glass doors.

Maggie walked to the edge of the veranda and curled her fingers over the railing. Dusk had already settled over the city and lights from the bay flickered in the distance. Glenn joined her and slipped his arms around her waist, burying his face in her hair. Turning her in his arms, he closed his eyes and touched his forehead to hers. He took in several breaths before speaking.

“Are you feeling the same things I am?” he asked.

“Yes.” Maggie’s heart was hammering so loud, she was convinced he’d hear it.

“Is it the champagne?”

“I had two sips.”

“I didn’t have any,” he countered. “See?” He placed the palm of her hand over his heart so she could feel its quickened beat. “From the moment I saw you in the church it’s been like this.”

“Me, too,” she whispered. “What’s happening to us?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “I wish I knew.”

“It’s happening to me, too.” She took his hand and placed it over her heart. “Can you feel it?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Maggie, listen, this is going to sound crazy.” He dropped his hands as if he needed to put some distance between them and took several steps back.

“What is?”

Glenn jerked his hand through his hair and hesitated. “Do you want to make this real?”

Chapter Three

“M
ake this real?” Maggie echoed. “What do you mean?”

Glenn couldn’t believe the ideas that were racing at laser speed through his mind. Maggie would burst into peals of laughter, and he wouldn’t blame her. But even that wasn’t enough to turn the course of his thoughts. He had this compulsion, this urgency, to speak, as if something were driving him to say the words. “Steve and Janelle are going to make this marriage a good one.”

“Yes,” Maggie agreed. “I believe they will.”

The look she gave him was filled with questions. Surely she realized he hadn’t asked her onto the veranda to discuss Steve and Janelle. After Angie, Glenn hadn’t expected to feel this deep an emotion again. And so soon was another shock. Yet when he’d seen Maggie that first moment in the church, the impact had been so great it was as though someone had physically assaulted him. She was lovely, possessing a rare beauty that had escaped his notice when they were younger. No longer had he been standing witness to his best friend’s wedding, but he’d participated in a ceremony with a woman who could stand at his side for a lifetime. Maggie had felt it, too; he had seen it in her eyes. The identical emotion had moved her to tears.

“Glenn, you wanted to say something?” She coaxed him gently, her mind pleading with him to explain. He couldn’t possibly mean what she thought.

Remembering the look Maggie had given him when Steve and Janelle exchanged vows gave Glenn the courage to continue. “Marriage between friends is the best kind, don’t you think?”

“Yes,” she answered, unable to bring her voice above a husky whisper. “Friends generally know everything about each other, whether good or bad, and then still choose to remain friends.”

They stood for a breathless moment, transfixed, studying each other, hesitant and unsure. “I’d always believed,” Glenn murmured, his voice low and seductive, “that it would be impossible for me to share my life with anyone I didn’t know extremely well.”

“I agree.” Maggie’s mind was formulating impossible thoughts. Glenn was leading this conversation down meandering paths she’d never dreamed of traveling with him.

“We’re friends,” he offered next.

“Good friends,” she agreed, nodding.

“I know you as well as my own brothers.”

“We lived next door to each other for fifteen years,” she added, her heart increasing its tempo to a slow drumroll.

“I want a home and children.”

“I’ve always loved children.” There hadn’t been a time in her life when the pull was stronger toward a husband and family than it was that very moment.

“Maggie,” he said, taking a step toward her, but still not touching her, “you’ve become an extremely beautiful woman.”

Her lashes fluttered against her cheek as she lowered her gaze. Maggie didn’t think of herself as beautiful. For Glen to say this to her sent her heart racing. She hardly knew how to respond and finally managed a weak “Thank you.”

“Any man would be proud to have you for his wife.”

The sensations that raced through her were all too welcome and exciting. “I … I was just thinking that a woman … any woman would be extremely fortunate to have you for a husband.”

“Would you?”

Her heart fluttered wildly, rocketed to her throat, and then promptly plummeted to her stomach. Yet she didn’t hesitate. “I’d be honored and proud.”

Neither said anything for a timeless second while their minds assimilated what had just transpired, or what they thought had.

“Glenn?”

“Yes.”

Her throat felt swollen and constricted, her chest suddenly tight, as if tears were brewing just beneath the surface. “Did I understand you right? Did you—just now—suggest that you and me—the two of us—get married?”

“That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” Glenn didn’t hesitate. He’d never been more sure of anything in his life. He had lost one woman; he wasn’t going to lose Maggie. He would bind her to him and eliminate the possibility of someone else stepping in at the last moment. This
woman was his, and he was claiming her before something happened to drive her from his arms.

“When?”

“Tonight.”

She blinked twice, convinced she hadn’t heard him right. “But the license, and—”

“We can fly to Reno.” Already his mind was working out the details. He didn’t like the idea of a quickie wedding, but it would serve the purpose. After what they had shared earlier, they didn’t need anything more than a document to make it legal.

Stillness surrounded them. Even the night had gone silent. No cars, no horns, no crickets, no sounds of the night—only silence.

“I want to think about it,” she murmured. Glenn was crazy. They both were. Talking about marriage, running away this very night to Reno. None of it made sense, but nothing in all her life had sounded more exciting, more wonderful, more right.

“How long do you want to think this over?” A thread of doubt caused him to ask. Perhaps rushing her wasn’t the best way to proceed, but waiting felt equally impossible.

A fleeting smile touched and lifted Maggie’s mouth. They didn’t dare tell someone they would do anything so ludicrous. She didn’t need time, not really. She knew what she wanted: She wanted Glenn. “An hour,” she said, hoping that within that time frame nothing would change.

The strains of another waltz drifted onto the veranda, and wordlessly he led her back to the dance floor. When he reached for her, Maggie went willingly into his arms. His hold felt as natural as breathing, and she was drawn into his warmth. The past two days with Glenn had been the happiest, most exciting in years. Who would have thought that Glenn Lambert would make her pulse pound like a jackhammer and place her head in the clouds where the air was thin and clear? Just over twenty-four hours after his arrival, and they were planning the most incredible scheme, crazy as it sounded.

“This feeling reminds me of the night we stole out of the house to smoke our first cigarette,” Glenn whispered in her ear. “Are we as daring and defiant now as we were at fourteen?”

“Worse,” she answered. “But I don’t care, as long as you’re with me.”

“Oh, Maggie.” He sighed her name with a wealth of emotion.

Her hands tightened around his neck as she fit her body more intimately to the contour of
his. Her breasts were flattened to his broad chest; and they were melded together, thigh to thigh, hip to hip, as close as humanly possible under the guise of dancing.

Every breath produced an incredible range of new sensations. Maggie felt drugged and delirious, daring and darling, bold and extraordinarily shy. Every second in his arms brought her more strength of conviction. This night, in less than an hour, she was going to walk out of this room with Glenn Lambert. Together, they would fly to Reno and she would link her life with his. There was nothing to stop her. Not her money. Not her pride. Not her fears. Glenn Lambert was her friend. Tonight he would become her lover as well.

Unable to wait, Maggie rained a long series of kisses over the line of his jaw. The need to experience his touch flowered deep within her.

Glenn’s hold at her waist tightened, and he inhaled sharply. “Maggie, don’t tease me.”

“Who’s teasing?” They’d known each other all these years, and in that time he had kissed her only once. But it was enough, more than enough, to know that the loving between them would be exquisite.

Without her even being aware, Glenn had maneuvered her into a darkened corner of the dance floor where the lighting was the dimmest. His eyes told her he was about to kiss her, and hers told him she was eager for him to do exactly that. Unhurriedly, Glenn lowered his mouth to hers with an agonizing slowness. His kiss was warm and tender and lingering, as if this were a moment and place out of time meant for them alone. Her soft mouth parted with only the slightest urging, and her arms tightened around his neck.

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