Читать книгу A Bride for the Runaway Groom - Scarlet Wilson, Scarlet Wilson - Страница 8
ОглавлениеTHE FROZEN PEAS were a godsend. It appeared that Hawksley Castle did have some—even though Rose had doubted. The lump on his head wasn’t quite so big and, as long as he kept them pressed to his head, the bleeding stopped.
He’d managed to struggle into the T-shirt and jeans that Rose had brought from his bag in Violet’s room. But instead of leaving him alone to get dressed, she’d leaned against the wall with her arms folded.
‘What, no privacy?’
‘From the guy who was in my bed? You lost the privacy privilege a while ago, mister. Anyway, hurry up. I’ve got things to do today.’
‘Really? I would have thought after your sister’s wedding you might want to chill out a bit.’
She crossed the room as he slid his feet into his training shoes. ‘I’d like to have time to chill out, but I don’t. I’ve got the final touches to make to my dad’s tour, then I need to finish some jewellery for another bride.’
He looked up. ‘Ready. Do you know where the nearest hospital is?’
She nodded. ‘I know this area well. Let’s go.’
They walked down the corridor and out of the front doors of Hawksley Castle. She opened the door of a pale blue Rolls-Royce and nodded at him to get in the other side.
Will couldn’t hide the smile on his face as he slid into the cream leather seat. ‘Didn’t take you for this kind of car,’ he said in amusement.
She started the engine and frowned at him. ‘What kind of car did you think I’d drive?’
‘Something sporty. Something small. Probably something red.’ He looked thoughtful for a second. ‘Probably one of those new-style Minis.’ He wasn’t revealing that his identical Rolls-Royce was parked a few cars down in the car park.
She pulled out of the car park and down the sweeping mile-long driveway. ‘This is my dad’s. You forget, I’ve been in New York for the last three years. There isn’t much point in me having a car here right now, so I just borrow one when I’m home.’
‘And he lets you?’ Rick Cross’s car collection was legendary. ‘How many does he actually have?’
She laughed. And it was the first genuine laugh he’d heard from her. It was beautiful. Light and frivolous. Two things that Rose didn’t really emanate. ‘You mean, how many does Mum think he has—or how many does he actually have?’
Now Will started laughing. ‘Really? How does he manage that? Where on earth can he hide cars from her?’
She shrugged. ‘He’s a master. We’ve got more than one home. You’ll have seen the garages at Huntingdon Hall. There are eighteen cars there. Four in New York. Three in Mustique. And—’ she glanced over her shoulder as if to check if someone was there ‘—another twelve at an unspecified location in London.’
‘Another twelve? You’ve got to be joking.’
‘I never joke about my father.’ She shrugged. ‘What can I say? It’s his money. He can spend it how he likes. Same with my mother. They have beautiful homes, there might even have been the odd nip and tuck here and there, and to the outside world they seem like a pretty frivolous couple.’
He could hear the edge in her voice. Just as he’d heard the same tone in Violet’s voice on a few occasions. He’d met Rick and Sherry. They seemed like regular, nice folks. Polite, well-mannered, and they obviously loved their daughters.
‘So, what’s the problem?’
Her head whipped around. ‘Who said there was a problem?’
‘You did. Just now.’
‘I did not.’
He sighed. ‘You and Violet are more alike than you think. She does that, too—starts talking about your parents and then starts to say strange things.’
‘She does?’ Her voice was a little squeaky and her knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. It was nothing to do with her driving. And nothing to do with the car.
The Rolls-Royce was eating up the country roads with ease. It should be a pleasant enough drive. But Rose looked tense.
‘You must deal with the press all the time. Why does it annoy you when they describe your parents as frivolous?’
‘Because they’re not really. Not at heart. Yes, they spend money. But they also give a lot away. Lots of celebrities do. My mum and dad both support lots of charities.’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, I remember. I’ve seen her in the magazines and doing TV interviews.’
‘That’s what you see. What you don’t see is all the work they don’t let the public know about. My dad does a lot of work for one of the Alzheimer’s charities. He doesn’t tell anyone about it. My mum works on a helpline for children. She sometimes does a twelve-hour shift and then goes out to do her other charity work.’
‘That sounds great. So, why are you annoyed?’ He couldn’t understand why either of the sisters would be unhappy about their mum and dad doing good work.
‘Because they are so insistent that no one finds out. Sometimes I think they’re working themselves into the ground. To the world they seem quite frivolous. But they’re not like that in person.’
‘I don’t get it. Why the big secret? What’s the big deal?’ His arm was beginning to ache from holding it against his head. He might be a millionaire himself, but even he didn’t want to risk bleeding all over the inside of Rick’s precious car.
Rose turned the car onto a main road, following signs toward the hospital. ‘Because they don’t want people to know. My uncle—my dad’s brother—has Alzheimer’s. He developed it really early. It’s in my dad’s family and he says it’s private. He doesn’t want people knowing that part of his life and invading my uncle’s privacy. Mum’s the same. She says the calls from the kids are all confidential. If people knew she worked there, the phone line would probably get a whole host of crank calls that would jam the lines.’
He nodded. ‘I get it. Then, the kids that needed to, couldn’t get through.’
She pulled into the hospital car park. ‘Exactly.’
‘So, your parents do something good.’ He waited while she pulled into a parking space. ‘I can relate to that.’
‘You can?’ She seemed surprised.
‘Yeah. I do a lot of work for one of the homeless charities. But it doesn’t get a lot of good publicity. It’s something I need to think about.’ He gave her a smile. ‘Maybe you could give me some advice? You do PR for your father? Maybe you could tell me what I should be doing to raise the profile of the charity.’
She gave the slightest shake of her head. ‘Sorry, Will, but this is it for me. I’ve got a hundred and one things to do in the next few weeks. I don’t even know how long I’ll be staying. Once your head is stitched I need to get back to work.’
He climbed out of the car, still pressing the now unfrozen peas to his head. Rose was intriguing him. He could use someone to give him PR advice. Someone who knew how to try and spin the press. Maybe he should try and persuade her?
The woman behind the desk didn’t even blink when he appeared at the desk. ‘Name?’
‘Will Carter.’
She lifted her eyebrows and gave a half-smile. ‘Oh, it’s you. Did one of those brides finally give you the smack you deserved?’
He couldn’t help but smile. ‘No. I’m all out of brides at the moment—have been for a little while.’ He glanced towards Rose, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable. ‘It was just a friend who did this.’
A nurse walked towards them and the receptionist handed her a card. ‘Will Carter, the Runaway Groom. Head injury.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘What a surprise.’
The nurse gave a little grin and nodded her head. ‘This way.’
‘Come on.’ He followed the nurse down the corridor and gestured to Rose to follow them.
Her footsteps faltered. It was obvious she didn’t really want to come along. But Will had just been hit by a brainwave. And a perfect way to make it work.
* * *
‘I’ll just sit in the waiting room,’ she said quickly. She’d no wish to see Will Carter getting his head stitched. Even the thought of it made her feel a bit queasy.
‘No, you won’t.’ His voice was smooth as silk. ‘I want you with me.’
The nurse’s eyebrows rose just a little as she pulled back the cubicle curtains. ‘Climb up on the trolley, Mr Carter, and I’ll go and get some supplies to clean your wound.’
She disappeared for a second while Rose stood shifting self-consciously on her feet, not quite sure where to put herself.
‘What’s wrong, Rose? Don’t like hospitals?’
‘What? No, I don’t mind them. I just would have preferred to sit in the waiting room.’
He lifted the peas from his head. ‘Don’t you want to see the damage you’ve done?’
Her face paled. ‘But I didn’t mean to. I mean, you know that. And what did you expect? You climbed into bed with a perfect stranger.’
The nurse cleared her throat loudly as she wheeled the dressing trolley into the cubicle.
Rose felt the colour flood into her cheeks. Twenty-seven years old and she was feeling around five. ‘I didn’t mean... I mean, nothing happened...’ She was stumbling over her words, her brain so full of embarrassment that she couldn’t make sense to herself, let alone to anyone else.
The nurse waved her hand as she walked to the sink and started scrubbing her hands. ‘Everything’s confidential here. My lips are sealed.’
‘But there’s nothing to—’
Will was laughing. He leaned over and grabbed her hand. ‘Leave it, Rose. You’re just making things worse.’ As he relaxed back against the trolley, his hand tugged her a little closer. There was a gleam of amusement in his eyes. Mr Charming wasn’t flustered at all and it irked her.
‘I kind of like seeing you like this.’ Even his voice sounded amused. She’d never wanted out of somewhere so badly. She could practically hear the waiting room calling her name.
‘Seeing me like what?’ she snapped. The nurse had finished washing her hands and was opening a sterile pack and some equipment on the dressing trolley. She couldn’t wipe the smile from her face.
Will’s dimple appeared. ‘You know—babbling. Violet doesn’t get like this at all. It’s quite nice to see you flapping around.’
‘I’m not flapping around. This is all your fault anyway—and you know it.’
The nurse lifted the peas from Will’s head and deposited them in the bin. ‘Youch,’ she said, pulling a head lamp a little closer. ‘It looks as though you might have a tiny fragment in your wound. What caused your injury?’
‘She did.’
‘A vase.’
Their voices came out in unison. Rose was horrified. He’d just told the nurse this was her fault. The nurse’s eyes flickered from one to the other. Thank goodness she was bound by confidentiality, otherwise this would appear all over the national press.
But she was the ultimate professional. She picked up some swabs and dipped them in the solution on the dressing trolley, along with a pair of tweezers. ‘Brace yourself, Mr Carter. This is going to sting a bit. I’m going to give this a clean, then try and pry out the little piece of vase that is embedded in your wound. Five or six stitches should close this up fine.’
‘Five or six?’ Rose was beginning to feel light-headed. ‘Can’t you just use that glue stuff?’
The nurse shook her head. ‘Not for this kind of wound. It’s very deep. Stitches will give the best result—and hopefully the least amount of scarring.’ She pulled up some liquid into a syringe. ‘I’m just going to give you an injection to numb the area before we start.’ Her experience showed. The injection was finished in a few seconds. ‘It will tingle for a bit,’ she warned. Her gaze shot from one to the other. ‘I’m obliged to ask, but I take it from your tone this was an accidental injury?’
Rose felt her cheeks flame. ‘Absolutely.’ She couldn’t get the words out quickly enough.
Will was watching Rose with those dark blue-rimmed eyes. She saw a flicker of something behind his eyes. He looked at the nurse with a remarkable amount of sincerity. ‘Rose wouldn’t normally hurt a fly. There’s nothing to worry about. So, you said I’ll definitely have a scar, then?’
‘Yes.’ She nodded as she cleaned the wound. ‘Think of yourself as Harry Potter.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘I hear he gets all the girls.’
Was it hot in here? Or had she just forgotten to put deodorant on this morning? It was getting uncomfortably warm. She pulled her dress away from her body for a few seconds to let the air circulate.
Will was still watching her as he continued his conversation with the nurse. ‘Will it be a bad scar?’
Rose shifted on her feet. Boy, he was laying it on thick. Stop talking about the scar. Guilt was flooding through her. She’d just scarred a man for life. And it seemed as if he’d talk about it for ever.
The nurse bent forward with her tweezers, then pulled back. ‘Here it is!’ She dropped the microscopic piece of vase on the dressing trolley. How on earth had she even seen it?
She gave Will’s head a final clean, then picked up the stitching kit. ‘This won’t take long. I’ll give you some instructions for the next few days.’ She glanced towards Rose. ‘When the vase hit you—were you knocked out?’
‘No,’ he said quickly. ‘I was sleeping and, believe me, once the vase hit I was wide awake.’
Rose rolled her eyes and looked away. He was making a meal of this. It was clear the nurse was lapping up his Mr Charming act. And it was making her more than a little uncomfortable.
Because, like it or not, it was hard not to get pulled in. One look from those big eyes, along with the killer smile and dimple, was enough to make the average woman’s knees turn to mush.
No wonder this guy got so much good press. Why on earth would he think he needed any help?
She fixed her eyes on the floor as the nurse started expertly stitching the wound. Will Carter, Runaway Groom would now have a scar above his left eyebrow. A scar that she’d caused. It was definitely making her feel a bit sick.
The stitches were over in a matter of minutes and then the nurse handed Will a set of head injury instructions. ‘You shouldn’t be on your own for the next twenty-four hours.’ She gave Rose a smile. ‘I’m assuming that won’t be a problem?’
‘What? You mean me? No. No, I can’t. Will? I’m sure there must be someone who can keep you company for the next twenty-four hours.’ A wave of panic was coming over her.
But Will shook his head, then lifted his hand towards his head. ‘Ouch.’
The nurse moved forward again and looked back to Rose. ‘This is why he really needs someone to be around him. There can be after-effects with a head injury. If you can’t supervise he’ll need to be admitted to hospital. Are you sure you can’t help?’
Her tone was serious. It was obvious she was apportioning the blame at Rose’s door. The words were stuck in her throat. And as the guilt swamped her she couldn’t think of a single good reason to say no.
Will leaned forward a little. The tiniest movement. The nurse had her back to him with her hand on her hip. Will’s face appeared through the gap at her elbow and he pointed to his head. ‘Scarred for life,’ he mouthed before giving her a wink.
The cheeky ratbag. He was trying to blackmail her. And she hated to admit it—but it was working.
‘Fine.’ She snatched the instructions from the nurse’s hand. ‘Anything else?’
The nurse switched on her automatic smile. ‘Not at all.’ She turned to Will. ‘Pleasure to meet you, Mr Carter. Pay special attention to the instructions and—’ she glanced at Rose ‘—I wish you well for the future.’ She wheeled her dressing trolley out of the cubicle.
Rose was fuming. Half of her thought this was all his own fault, and half of her was wondering if the millionaire would sue her for personal damages. She’d heard of these things before. What if Will couldn’t sell his next wedding to Exclusive magazine because of his scar?
What if he sold the story of how he got his scar instead? She groaned and leaned back against the wall.
‘Rose, are you going to pass out? Sorry, I didn’t think you were squeamish.’
She opened her eyes to face his broad chest. He’d made a miraculous recovery and was standing in front of her with his hand on her arm to steady her.
The irony wasn’t lost on her. She was supposed to be looking after him—not the other way about.
He’d told her he needed help with publicity. Maybe she’d unwittingly played into his hands? Her brain started to spin.
Her head sagged back and hit against the cold hospital wall. Her eyes sprang back open and he was staring right at her again.
How many women had he charmed with those blue eyes? And that killer dimple...
His arm slid around her shoulders. ‘It’s hot in here. Maybe you’ll feel better if we get some fresh air.’
His body seemed to automatically steer hers along. Her feet walking in concordance with his, along the hospital corridor and back out to the car park. Her first reaction was to shake off his unwanted arm.
But something weird was happening. Her body seemed to enjoy being next to his. She seemed to fit well under his shoulder. In her simple sundress the touch of his arm across her shoulders was sending little currents to places that had been dormant for a while.
Twenty-four hours. That was how long she would have to be in his company.
Panic was starting to flood through her, pushing aside all the other confusing thoughts. This guy could charm the birds from the trees. She’d thought she’d be immune. But her body impulses were telling her differently.
As soon as the fresh air hit she wriggled free from under his arm. ‘I’m fine.’ She walked across the car park and jiggled her keys in her hand.
‘We need to have some ground rules.’
He leaned against the Rolls-Royce. She could almost hear her father scream in her ear.
‘What exactly might they be?’ One eyebrow was raised. He probably couldn’t raise the other. That part of his forehead would still be anaesthetised. Darn it. The guilty feelings were sneaking their way back in.
‘I think when we get back to Hawksley Castle we should ask Violet to stay with you. After all, she knows you best. She’ll know if you do anything out of character—like grope strange women.’ She couldn’t help but throw it in there. She waved the instructions at him. ‘You know, anything that might mean you need to go back to hospital.’ Now she was saying the words out loud they made perfect sense.
He waved his finger at her. ‘Oh, no, you don’t.’
‘Don’t what?’
‘Try and get out of this.’ He pointed to his forehead. ‘You did this to me, Rose. It’s your job to hang around to make sure I’m okay.’
He was so smooth. A mixture of treacle and syrup.
‘Oh, stop it, Will. I’m not your typical girl. I’m not going to fall at your feet and expect a ring. And if you keep going the way you are I’ll hit you again with the next vase I find. I’ve got things to do. I can’t hang around Hawksley Castle.’
He smiled and opened the car door. ‘Who said we were spending the next twenty-four hours at Hawksley Castle?’
She started as he climbed in. She pulled open the car door and slid in. ‘What on earth do you mean? Of course we’re going back to Hawksley Castle.’
He shook his head. ‘I think both of us have overstayed our welcome. You’ve damaged one of Seb’s precious heirlooms and I’ve probably put immovable stains on an ancient carpet and wall. I suggest we regroup and go somewhere else.’
She started the engine. ‘Like where?’
‘Like Gideon Hall.’
Gideon Hall. Will Carter’s millionaire mansion. At least at Hawksley Castle she’d be surrounded by family and friends. There was safety in numbers. Being alone with Will Carter wasn’t something she wanted to risk.
‘Oh, no. I need to work, Will.’
‘I can give you access to a phone and computer. What else do you need?’
‘My jewellery equipment, my soldering iron, my casting machine. My yellow, white and rose gold. My precious stones. Do you have any of those at Gideon Hall?’
The confident grin fell from his face. ‘You’re serious about making the jewellery?’
His question annoyed her. ‘Of course I am. Working for my dad is the day job. Working to make wedding jewellery? That’s the job I actually want to do. I spend most of my nights working on jewellery for upcoming weddings. I have an order to make wedding rings for a bride and groom. I can’t afford to take any time off.’
It was nice to see his unwavering confidence start to fail. It seemed Mr Charming hadn’t thought of everything.
She sighed. ‘If need be, we can collect our things from Seb’s, then go back to my parents’ place. If you’ve hung around with Violet long enough you must be familiar with it.’
He settled back in the chair. ‘Do you have your equipment at your parents’ house?’
She nodded. ‘I have one set in New York, and one set here.’
‘That’s fine. We can move it to my house in the next hour. I’ll get someone to help us.’
He pulled his phone from his pocket and started dialling. ‘What? No. What on earth is wrong with you? I’ve said I’ll hang around you for the next twenty-four hours. Isn’t that enough?’
He turned to face her. ‘Actually, no, it’s not. I’ve got a meeting later on today with a potential investor for the homeless charity. It’s taken for ever to set up and I don’t want to miss it.’
‘Can’t you just change the venue?’
Will let out a long, slow puff of air and named a footballer her father had had a spat with a few months ago. ‘How would your dad feel about him being in his house?’
She gulped. ‘Wow. No. He’d probably blow a gasket. He hates the guy.’ She frowned. ‘Are you sure he’s the right kind of guy to help your charity?’ She was racking her brains. Her dad was a good judge of character. He could spot a fake at twenty paces and didn’t hesitate to tell them. She was sure there was a good reason he didn’t like this footballer—she just couldn’t remember what it was.
Will still couldn’t frown properly. It was kind of cute. ‘I’ve no idea. I’ve never met him before. But he’s well known and popular with sports fans. It’s not so much about the money. It’s the publicity I need help with. We need to get the homeless agenda on people’s radars. They need to understand the reason people end up on the streets. It’s not just because they’re drunks, or drug addicts or can’t hold down a job.’
She turned back into the grounds of Hawksley Castle. ‘You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?’
‘Of course I am. Why would you think I’m not?’
She bit her lip. ‘What’s in it for you? Why is a homeless charity your thing?’
It took him a few seconds to answer. ‘I had a friend at university who ended up on the streets. I didn’t know. He didn’t ask anyone for help because he didn’t want anyone to know the kind of trouble he was in. I found out later when someone tried to rob him and stabbed him in the process. The police found my details amongst his things.’
She pulled the car to a halt and turned to face him. ‘Was he dead?’
Will shook his head. It was the first time she’d really seen complete sincerity on his face. No charm, no dimple, no killer smile. In a way, it made him all the more handsome even though she tried to push that thought from her brain.
‘No. But Arral needed help. And there’s a lot more people out there who need help, too.’
‘So, you really want good PR to raise awareness and you think this footballer will give you it?’
He folded his arms across his chest. ‘Is that scepticism I hear in your voice, Rose?’
She gave him a smile as she opened the door and took the key from the ignition. ‘I just don’t know if he’s your best choice.’
Will climbed out next to her. ‘Neither do I, but, right now, he’s my only option. How long will it take you to grab your stuff?’
She shrugged. ‘My clothes? Five minutes. What about my equipment?’
‘I’ll arrange for someone to go your parents’ and pick it up. Do you want to drop by first?’
She nodded. ‘It won’t take long. Let me get my clothes and I’ll meet you back here.’
* * *
Will was true to his word. There was a man with a van waiting outside her parents’ house when they arrived. She took him around to her workshop and collected the things she’d need to start work later that night.
As she was collecting a few other items her father appeared. ‘Oh, hi, Dad. I didn’t expect you to be back yet. I thought you’d still be at Hawksley Castle.’
He smiled. ‘Your mother and I came back an hour ago. We had a few things we wanted to discuss.’
Her mother appeared at her father’s side, his arm slipping around her waist and resting on her hip. Sherry Huntingdon still had her model-girl looks and figure even though she was in her fifties.
Rose’s father’s face was a little more lived-in. Rock and roll did that to you. His hair was still longer than normal—he still loved the shaggy rock-star look.
Rose’s stomach started to do little flip-flops. Her father’s words were a bit ominous. He had a tendency to spring things on her. And it looked as if nothing was about to change.
Rick crossed the room and put his hand out towards Will. ‘Will, aren’t you hanging around with the wrong daughter?’ There was an amused tone in his voice. ‘And what happened to your head? Did one of those brides finally get you?’ He threw back his head and let out a hearty laugh.
Rose cringed. How many times was Will going to hear those words?
But Will seemed unperturbed. ‘Ask Rose—she was the one that socked me with a vase.’
‘She what?’ Rose’s mother seemed shocked.
Rose waved her hand quickly. ‘It was a misunderstanding. That’s all. What did you come back to talk about, Dad?’ She wanted to distract them before they asked too many questions.
Her mother and father turned and smiled at each other. There it was. That sappy look that they got sometimes. In a way it was nice. Still romantic. It was obvious to the world that they still loved each other.
It was just a tad embarrassing when it was your parents.
‘Your mother and I have made a decision.’
‘What kind of decision?’ She had a bad feeling about this.
Both of them couldn’t stop smiling and it was making her toes curl. She just knew this was going to be something big.
‘After all the preparations for Daisy’s wedding—and the fact everything went so beautifully—your mother and I have decided to renew our wedding vows.’
‘You have?’ It was so not what she expected to hear.
Her mother put her hand on her father’s chest. She was in that far-off place she went to when ideas started to float around her head. ‘You know we never had a big wedding.’ She turned to acknowledge Will. ‘We ran away to Vegas and got married after only knowing each other for a weekend. I never really had the fancy dress, flowers or meal like Daisy had. So, we’ve decided to do it all again.’
Rick shrugged and smiled at Will. ‘It might seem hasty, but believe me—’ he smiled at his wife ‘—when you know, you just know.’
A thousand little centipedes had started to crawl over Rose’s skin. She had a horrid feeling she knew exactly where this was going.
‘It’s a lovely idea. When were you thinking? Next year—after the tour is over?’
‘Oh, no.’ Rose’s mother laughed. ‘In a few weeks.’
‘A few weeks!’ She couldn’t help but raise her voice. Will shot her a look, obviously trying to calm her. But he had no idea what was coming next. Rose did.
Sherry stepped forward. ‘What’s the problem? We have the perfect venue.’ She spun around. ‘Here. We just need a marquee for the grounds. And a caterer. And some flowers. And some dresses.’ She turned to Rick and laughed. ‘And a band!’
Rick stepped forward. ‘It shouldn’t be a problem. You can arrange all that in a few weeks, can’t you, Rose? You do everything so perfectly. And you’re just so organised. We couldn’t possibly trust anyone else with something so important.’ Her father stepped over and gave her a hug and dropped a kiss on her cheek. It was clear he was floating on the same love-swept cloud that her mother was.
‘Me?’ Her voice came out in a squeak as Will’s eyes widened in shock.
Oh, now he understood. This was what she got for doing such a good job. She was the official PA for her father’s band and her mother’s career. With all the tour preparations she barely had time to sleep right now. But she loved her parents dearly so she let them think it was all effortless. Her parents had been so strong and so supportive when she’d needed them—even though she secretly felt she’d disappointed them. Their love and support was the only thing that had got her through. All she wanted to do was make them proud. If they were trusting her with something like this? It made her anxious to please them, to let them be confident in her choices, even if this was the last thing she needed.
Her father’s voice was steady. ‘You know just how hard your mother’s been working recently. And what with planning Daisy’s wedding, she’s just exhausted. If you could do all this it would be a whole weight off our minds.’
The dopey smiles on her parents’ faces were enough to melt her heart—even though it was fluttering frantically in her chest and her brain was going into overdrive.
Will seemed to pick up on her overwhelming sense of panic. He stepped forward. ‘What a fantastic idea. But these things normally take a while to plan—don’t you want to wait a while and get everything just right?’
It was a valiant attempt. But Rose knew exactly how this would go. Once her parents got an idea in their heads there was no changing their minds.
Rick gave a wave of his hand. ‘Nonsense. It didn’t take long to sort out Daisy’s wedding, did it?’ He gave Rose that look. The one he always did when she knew he meant business. Rick Cross had invented the word determined.
‘I’m not sure, Dad. There’s a lot to do, what with the tour and the charity concert and everything.’
His hand rested on her arm and he glanced in his wife’s direction. ‘Now, Rose. Let’s give your mother the wedding she always deserved.’
The truth was he wasn’t picking up her cues. He was too busy concentrating on the rapt expression on his wife’s face. Anxiety was building in her stomach. If she could do this, maybe she could repay her parents for everything they’d done for her. When she’d been splashed over the press when her friend had died she couldn’t have asked for better advocates or supporters. Family was everything.
She started to murmur out loud. ‘But I know nothing about weddings. Receptions, marquees, dinners, dresses...’
Her mother smiled. ‘Oh, honey. Leave the dress to me. I’m going to get the one I always wanted.’ Her gaze locked with Rick’s and it was clear they were lost in their own little world.
Rick waved his hand. ‘Ask Daisy. She knows all about it.’ He let out a little laugh. ‘Or ask your friend. He’s had his fair share of organising weddings.’
Her parents turned and drifted back out of the room, lost in conversation with each other. That was it. Decision made. And everything left to Rose.
Rose turned to face Will. Her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth. She’d kill for a cosmopolitan right now. Her mouth was so dry she couldn’t even begin to form words. She’d been blindsided. By her parents.
Will was looking just as pale.
She lifted her hands. ‘I... I...’ But the words wouldn’t come out. The only sound that did come out was a sob. All this work. Organising a wedding in a few weeks might be okay for some people. But some people weren’t Rick Cross and Sherry Huntingdon. They’d have a spectacular guest list—who’d all come with their list of demands. Where on earth would she find the kind of caterer she’d need at short notice? Her parents were very picky about food.
And what was worse—already she wanted it to be perfect for them.
Her heart was thudding in her chest. The more she thought, the more she panicked. Her chest was tight. The air couldn’t get in. It couldn’t circulate. Tears sprang to her eyes.
Will stepped straight in front of her. ‘Rose? Sit down. You’re a terrible colour.’ He pulled a chair over and pushed her down onto it, kneeling beside her. ‘In fact, no. Put your head between your legs.’
The inside of his palm connected with the back of her head and pushed down. She didn’t even have time to object.
The thudding started to slow. She wasn’t quite so panicky. After a few seconds she finally managed to pull in a breath.
This was a nightmare. A big nightmare. She didn’t have enough hours in the day to do what her parents wanted. But how on earth could she say no?
She lifted her head a little and a tear snaked down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly.
Will looked worried. ‘There must be someone else who can organise this for them? What about your sisters? They can help? Or can’t you hire someone?’
‘To organise my own parents’ renewal of vows? How, exactly, would that look?’ She waved her hand. ‘And Daisy might just have done it all but she’s off on her honeymoon to Italy for the next two weeks. Violet knows as much about weddings as I do.’ Her voice cracked as their gazes collided.
And something in her head went ping.
‘Will, you have to help me.’
A furrow creased his brow. The anaesthetic had finally started to wear off. ‘But isn’t it supposed to be the other way? I wanted you to give me some advice about PR for my homeless charity.’
She straightened her shoulders and drew in a deep breath. Things were starting to clear in her head. She wasn’t dumb. Only an hour ago Will Carter hadn’t been above trying to blackmail her. Head injury or not—it was time for her to use the same tactics.
‘Dad was right. You have the perfect skill set to help me out here. Help us out.’
Realisation started to dawn on him and he shook his head. ‘Oh, no. Your dad wasn’t being serious.’ It was his turn to start to look panicked.
She smiled. This was starting to feel good. ‘Oh, I think he was.’
She placed her hands on her hips as she stood up. Will was still kneeling by her chair. It was the first time she’d been head and shoulders above him. There was something empowering about this. She held out her hand towards him. This might be the only way out of this mess.
‘Will Carter? If you want my help, then I want yours.’ She could feel herself start to gain momentum.
‘You can’t be serious.’
‘Oh, but I am. I help you and you help me.’
He stood up. ‘Do what exactly?’
There was something good about the way he mirrored the same panicked expression she’d had a few minutes earlier.
She stretched her hand a little further. ‘I help you with your PR. You help me with this crazy wedding renewal.’
He shook his head. ‘I think you’ve got this all wrong. I only ever made it to one wedding. The rest never got anything like that far. Sure, I helped with some of the planning but that doesn’t make me an expert. The label in the press—Runaway Groom—it doesn’t really mean that. I’ve never even been a groom.’ He was blustering, trying anything to get out of this. ‘I don’t even like weddings!’ was his last try.
She pressed her lips together to stop herself from laughing out loud. She liked seeing him floundering around. Will Carter liked to be in control. Liked to be charming. She could almost feel the weight lift from her shoulders. This might even be the tiniest bit fun.
She smiled at him. ‘Will Carter? I think you’re about to be my new best friend.’
The Runaway Groom was starting to look a whole lot more interesting.
