Читать книгу The Wedding She Always Wanted - Stacy Connelly, Stacy Connelly - Страница 7

Emily Wilson had spent years practicing her smile. Not too wide, or her eyes would squint. Not too small, or the expression looked fake. Somewhere in between was the perfect smile Emily modeled, even when smiling was the last thing she wanted to do.

Despite the years of practice, she couldn’t remember when she’d had a harder time holding on to that smile. But then again, she’d never had to survive a day like today. Her wedding day.

Only she wasn’t the one getting married.

The ballroom looked exactly as she’d imagined. White cloaked tables circled the black granite dance floor. Pink roses and silver candles floated in glass bowls, the light reflected by mirrored chargers beneath. In every corner, towering plants reached right up to a moonlit night revealed by the soaring glass ceiling. A romantic ballad played as the bride and groom met for their first dance, love shining in their eyes.

Just like she imagined, Emily thought, her stomach twisting, except for the identity of the bride and groom.

“How are you holding up?” a quiet voice asked behind her.

Emily turned to face her older sister. Wearing a pink bridesmaid’s dress identical to her own, Aileen’s brows were pulled together in a concerned frown. “I’m fine,” Emily answered automatically. “The wedding was beautiful, and no one deserves it more than Kelsey.”

As little as a week ago Emily could never have imagined that the wedding her cousin had planned would end up as Kelsey’s own wedding to Connor McClane, Emily’s high school boyfriend.

“And how many times have you said that line today?”

“To everyone who’s actually had the courage to come up to me. Which, considering the number of people here, hasn’t been all that many. Everyone is much too busy talking about me to actually bother talking to me.”

“Well, it’s not every day that a wedding goes off as planned, only with a completely different bride and groom,” Aileen noted.

“And it’s not every day a woman learns her fiancé got another girl pregnant and proposed only to get back into his family’s good graces.”

It had, in fact, been Thursday, mere days before her wedding.

Shoving hurt and humiliation aside, Emily insisted, “Besides, it’s not just a line. I am happy for Kelsey. And for Connor.”

Connor had come back to town with the specific purpose of stopping Emily’s wedding to Todd Dunworthy. He was the one to discover Todd’s hidden agenda. Along the way, Connor had also fallen in love with Kelsey.

“I know you are,” Aileen said, “and we’re all glad Connor found out what Todd was up to before you married the jerk. I still can’t believe how completely he fooled all of us.”

But Todd had fooled all of them, including Emily’s parents, who had seen him as the perfect future son-in-law. Maybe she should have felt better, knowing she wasn’t the only idiot in the bunch, but she didn’t. Instead, the betrayal had shaken her foundations.

Her whole life she’d followed the plan her parents had laid out for her—going to the right schools, wearing the right clothes, being seen with the right people. She’d always done what she was told, never crossed the line … except for a brief moment of teenaged rebellion, when she jumped over it and into Connor’s arms.

Intense, rough around the edges, Connor McClane had been nothing like the boys at her prep school. For a few short weeks, she’d been thrilled by the youthful infatuation and by veering so far off course from the map her parents had drawn out for her life. But before long she’d realized dating Connor wasn’t as much about following her own dreams as it was about defying her parents. Knowing Connor deserved better, she’d broken things off with him.

Almost ten years later his call to congratulate her on her engagement had come as a surprise, and she’d impulsively sent him a wedding invitation. A decision that had changed all of their lives, she thought as she watched Connor spin his new bride into his arms.

“Connor saw through Todd right from the start,” Emily said.

So why hadn’t she?

Was she that gullible, that naive? How could she trust her own feelings—or trust in love—again?

“Connor’s a P.I. He’s trained to look for those kinds of things. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Aileen advised. After a few more minutes she said, “I’m going to go up and say good-night to Ginny and Duncan. I promised I’d tuck them in.”

Aileen’s daughter and son had been the flower girl and ring bearer. Like Emily, Aileen and her family were staying the night at the hotel.

“Give them a kiss for me.”

“I will.” Aileen disappeared around the tall palms sheltering Emily from the rest of the room.

Maybe she should go with her sister, Emily thought. Not that Aileen needed help with her kids, but any escape was a good escape.

She’d almost decided on the cowardly action when a deep voice murmured, “I’ve been wondering what the most beautiful woman in the room is doing hiding in a corner.”

The wholly masculine sound sent a shiver down Emily’s spine. She knew without turning who stood behind her. She was a little surprised she hadn’t felt electricity arcing along her nerve endings, like an early warning system, before Javier Delgado ever spoke.

From the moment they first met at Kelsey and Connor’s impromptu engagement party, Javy had had an undeniable effect on her. But Connor’s best friend and best man also had a reputation as a ladies’ man. And right now, after what had happened with Todd, he was exactly the kind of man she wanted to stay far, far away from.

Unfortunately, being in the wedding party together meant their paths had crossed more often than she would have liked in the last few days. And darn it if her pulse hadn’t skipped a beat every single time.

Turning to face him, she offered a small smile, keeping her expression as remote as possible, a smooth surface completely hiding the turmoil beneath—or so she hoped. “Javy,” she said with a chiding tone, “don’t you know the bride is the most beautiful woman in the room?”

Javier grinned, and Emily knew her facade might have been as smooth as glass, but as transparent, as well. At least where this man was concerned.

Whenever he looked at her, Emily sensed he saw through her—through the perfect smile, through the too-polite chitchat, through to all the insecurities and failures she sought to hide. While she—she couldn’t read him at all.

He was too handsome, too sexy, too much of everything she’d recently learned to distrust.

He was dressed in a tux. The black suit was the perfect complement to his dark hair and eyes, while the crisp white shirt contrasted with his gorgeously tanned skin. He’d brushed his hair back for the ceremony, but a hint of natural wave threatened to break free with only the slightest provocation.

Like a woman running her fingers through the dark strands …

Curling her fingernails into her palms, Emily forced her gaze back to the ballroom. But even with her eyes locked on the dance floor, she heard the rustle of palms as Javy stepped closer. Felt him against skin left bare by the strapless gown.

The aftershave he wore blended with the flowers and vanilla candles, providing a masculine element missing from the too-feminine scents. His breath stirred the fine hair at the nape of her neck, and Emily had the foolish thought that she should have worn her hair down.

Like any hairstyle could possibly provide protection against a man like Javier Delgado.

“Kelsey does look amazing, doesn’t she?”

His words barely registered. He hadn’t just brushed his lips against her ear when he spoke, had he? No, he wouldn’t have. He couldn’t have….

Maybe if she asked him to repeat the sentence, he’d do it again, and she’d know for sure.

An unfamiliar heat pooled in her belly, sapping the strength from her legs. The warning system that failed her earlier rang out loud and clear, but Emily couldn’t bring herself to step away. She was afraid if she moved at all, it would be to sink into the tall, masculine body surrounding her.

“I … um …” Emily swallowed. “Yes, Kelsey looks beautiful.”

She and Aileen had styled her cousin’s curly red hair into an elegant twist and applied a sophisticated, smoky-eyed makeup, which down-to-earth Kelsey rarely wore. But Kelsey’s gown was too heavenly for anything less. Thanks to her friendship with a local dress designer, Kelsey had had a gorgeous ivory strapless gown altered in a matter of days, and even though the dress wasn’t custom-made, the fit certainly was.

But Emily knew it wasn’t the hair or the makeup or the wedding gown. The love and happiness glowing in her expression as she gazed at her new husband made Kelsey the most beautiful woman there.

“And I don’t think I’ve ever seen Connor so happy,” Javier added.

“You sound surprised.” Emily turned to face Javy, thinking she’d be better off if she could keep an eye on him. Or maybe not, she realized as her heart did another tap dance inside her chest when she gazed up at his handsome face.

“I guess I am. My friend never struck me as a ‘falling head over heels for a woman’ kind of guy.”

Emily had a feeling Javy’s statement said more about his own relationships than it did about Connor’s. “Because the two of you are so alike?”

“Used to be,” he said easily enough, but the slight frown pulling at his eyebrows contradicted the unconcerned acceptance. “But things change.”

“Yes, they do….” Emily’s voice trailed off as three middle-aged women walked by, exchanging knowing looks and smug smiles.

“Hello, Emily,” one called out, arching her eyebrows and making a point of looking from Emily to Javy and back again, their seclusion in the out-of-the-way corner suddenly taking on a salacious air.

Managing a nod, she watched the women walk away, heads bent together as they whispered to one another.

“Who the he—heck are they?”

Face flaming, Emily said, “Those are some of my mother’s friends.”

But Emily was well aware that friends of her mother often had daughters her own age. Daughters Emily had beaten out in long-ago beauty pageants or for homecoming queen or for the lead role in some forgotten play. They were more than happy to see her publicly humiliated.

Keeping her gaze averted, Emily stared into the distance, not wanting to see the pity in Javy’s dark eyes.

“You know,” he said softly, “I think you might be one of the bravest women I’ve ever met.”

Emily let out a sharp laugh, the sound grating like broken glass against her throat. “And here I was, just thinking I’m the world’s biggest coward.”

Tears burned her eyes at the admission. Ducking her head, Emily turned away from Javy, horrified by the thought of breaking down in front of him. She didn’t make it more than a few yards when she heard his steps on the granite floor behind her.

Catching her arm, he steered her to the left. “Come on. No more standing on the sidelines. Let’s dance.”

Vaguely aware of a romantic ballad playing in the background, Emily shook her head. “No. Forget it.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not dancing,” she argued as he turned her toward him.

“Why not?”

“I’ve given people enough reason to talk about me. Last thing I need to do is anything else to attract attention.” Javy smiled slowly.

“Too late.”

Emily didn’t realize what he meant until he slid an arm around her lower back and pulled her body into his. He’d led her to the center of the dance floor, and unless she wanted to walk off mid-dance, she had little choice but to stay where she was. And when her arms automatically wrapped around his broad shoulders, she knew she wouldn’t be going anywhere.

His dark eyes looked almost as velvety black as the night sky above, and the sexy spark she saw in his gaze put the Milky Way to shame. He danced like a man who knew how to move his body … and how to make a woman respond. His hands trailed down her spine to the curve of her hips; his thighs brushed against hers in time with the music, each step making her breath catch in anticipation of the next. With the stiff stays lining the strapless bodice of her dress, she couldn’t possibly feel the beat of his heart. Which meant the wild, crazy rhythm was hers alone.

“Relax,” Javy commanded, his voice a husky whisper in her ear. “Forget that anyone’s watching.”

Emily had forgotten about the guests lining the edges of the dance floor. Any tension he had picked up on was strictly from locking her knees to keep from puddling at his feet. She tried to take a calming breath, only to inhale his cologne, the enticing scent drawing her closer to the spot where his broad shoulder met the tanned column of his neck.

“Unless you want to give them something to really talk about,” he murmured, and she doubted he meant the scene she’d make running from the dance floor.

“No. I couldn’t,” she said, her voice a weak, broken sound.

“Come on. You can’t be that worried about what people are going to say.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? The only thing worse than being here and having all these people talk about me behind my back would be to stay home and have them talk about me without any restraint at all.”

“So show ‘em you don’t care,” he encouraged, lifting a hand and running his index finger from the nape of her neck down … over her bare skin … until he hit the top of her dress, where he traced the line of the zipper to the small of her back.

Half surprised the small metal teeth didn’t simply melt away, Emily swallowed hard and searched for an argument to keep herself from doing the same. “I do care. I should care. Today was supposed to be my wedding day. I was supposed to be marrying the man I loved and—”

“But you didn’t. And you’re relieved.”

“Of course I’m relieved. Who would want to be married to someone who cheated and lied?”

“I mean, you’re relieved because you didn’t love him.”

Emily pulled back far enough to meet his gaze. If his dark eyes had slowly peeled away her clothes, she wouldn’t have been surprised—he had that kind of reputation. But she hadn’t anticipated the way his knowing look stripped bare all the insecurities she’d tried to hide. Totally exposed, she struggled to duck behind an indignant front.

“What makes you so sure? You don’t know me. You don’t know—”

“I know when a woman’s in love, and I know when she’s heartbroken. And you, sweetheart, are neither.”

Javy let Emily go at the end of the dance. He couldn’t help watching her walk away. The gown she wore fit her willowy curves to perfection, drawing his eyes to her slender waist and the flare of her hips. The color—a soft, innocent pink—made her skin look even creamier. She had a grace and bearing that spoke of her wealth and pedigree. He would have gladly danced with her all night—breathing in the scent of peaches on her skin, following the fragrance from the curve of her neck, left bare by her upswept hair, to the hollow of her throat, to the valley between her breasts—but the worry clouding her blue eyes had told him how truly concerned she was by what the high-society guests around them thought.

Too bad she hadn’t taken him up on his offer to give the crowd something to talk about. His blood heated at the thought of Emily kissing him in front of the whole crowd, of discovering her unique taste, feeling the slow, soft slide of her lips against his own. But he supposed it would require something bigger than dumping a fiancé she didn’t really love to shake up her world that much.

Making his way to the bar, he ordered a beer. Champagne toasts were likely the thing, but he had simpler tastes. He’d taken his first sip from the bottle when an exuberant hand clapped down on his shoulder.

“Hey, having fun?”

Javy turned to meet Connor’s grin. “You bet. This is my kind of party,” he said wryly. “Loved the ice sculpture, by the way. What the hell was it supposed to be? Some kind of snake?”

“A swan,” his friend said, only to admit a split second later, “I think. Anyway, this is what Kelsey wanted. Her dream wedding.” As he spoke, his gaze immediately sought out his new wife, who was dancing with her uncle.

Javy figured he could have dumped the melting serpent/swan into his friend’s lap and he wouldn’t have noticed. “I’m happy for you, man. Really.” He winced, hearing the doubt he was trying a little too hard to hide.

“Yeah, right.” Connor slanted Javy a glance that reminded him how well they knew each other.

“Sorry. I mean, don’t get me wrong. Kelsey’s a great girl, but—”

“You didn’t think I’d ever settle down,” Connor said, filling in the details. His gaze met Kelsey’s from across the ballroom, and he smiled. “Things change.”

He’d said the same to Emily. “Yeah, guess so.”

“Except for you.” Turning back to Javy, Connor said, “Look, I know you’re still all about playing the field, but you gotta know Emily’s not up for the game.”

Javy pulled back in surprise. “Hell, Connor, you haven’t warned me away from a girl since we were both interested in Alicia Martin in the fifth grade. Are you sure you married the right woman? Emily’s—”

“Emily is Kelsey’s cousin,” Connor interrupted, leaning forward enough to warn Javy not to finish his thought. “I’m just looking out for her. She’s family now. You understand.”

“Yeah, sure,” Javy agreed as Kelsey waved her husband over to the dance floor.

He understood because at one time Connor had considered Javy family. They’d practically grown up together, covering each other’s backs and pulling each other through some rough times.

“Things change,” he mumbled, lifting the beer bottle to his lips for another drink.

Connor wasn’t the first of his friends to get married and likely wouldn’t be the last. But Javy had no intention of following that line down the aisle. Not now, not ever.

Connor was right about Javy liking to play the field. It had been years since he’d had trouble forgetting a woman, and ever since then, they had come and gone, none of them sticking around long enough to etch a place in his life or in his heart. He had no reason to believe Emily would be any different.

Now that the wedding was over, there’d be little chance of their paths crossing again and less reason for her to cross his thoughts.

No, he definitely wouldn’t have any problem forgetting Emily Wilson, he thought as an exotic brunette at the end of the bar caught his eye. Her ruby-red lips curved in invitation, and he waited for the familiar kick of interest to flare. He could send over a drink—a cosmopolitan, he figured—strike up a conversation and be well on his way to forgetting. He’d learned, thanks to his friends’ weddings, that a reception was the perfect place to first meet a woman. After all, half the work was done for him. The candles, the flowers, the romantic music were already in place. It was easy. Maybe too easy.

When the bartender came by, Javy didn’t order a cosmo or any other kind of break-the-ice drink. Instead, he handed over a few bills for his beer and turned to watch Emily in the out-of-the-way corner where he’d first spotted her.

He wondered if she knew how completely false her smile looked even from across the room. It didn’t come close to reaching her eyes—those beautiful blue eyes with darker flecks, which reminded him of the turquoise gemstones his mother loved.

Emily Wilson was a gorgeous woman, no doubt about it, but if she really smiled—hell, if she laughed—he didn’t think a man in the room could resist. Including him.

Good thing it didn’t look like she’d be laughing anytime soon.

Twenty minutes, Emily vowed silently. She’d give Connor and Kelsey another twenty minutes to cut the cake, and then she was leaving.

She’d accomplished what she had set out to do by coming to the wedding. First, of course, to see her cousin and Connor get married. And second, to face friends and acquaintances for the first time since calling off the wedding. She’d known the whispers and speculation would only be harder to withstand the more time that passed. So, although she wished she were brave enough to stay until the end—heck, she longed for the courage to stand among the single women and do her darnedest to catch the bouquet—in twenty minutes she was going to live up to her own words and sneak out a side door.

Until then, well, Emily decided she had to go to the restroom. She’d check her makeup, her hair, her dress, her shoes, even her nail polish, and hopefully by the time she completed the head-to-toe inspection, at least a quarter of an hour would have passed.

As she stepped into the gold and marble restroom, the door closed behind her, muffling the sounds of music and laughter coming from the reception. Emily leaned against the door for a second and took her first deep breath in hours. The evening was almost over, and she had survived, proving once and for all that embarrassment could not kill.

Walking over to the vanity and the gilded mirror lit by matching sconces, Emily tried to focus on her hair, to doublecheck that none of the intricate curls were escaping the upswept style. But she froze, staring into her own reflection. Not checking her eyeliner for smudges or pulling her lip gloss from her beaded purse to dab on a second soft pink coat, but instead taking a good, long look at herself.

What was it about her that she couldn’t even inspire faithfulness during a very brief engagement? Todd hadn’t even waited until the wedding to break his vows. That slap of reality made a dream of lasting love and commitment seem just that—an impossible dream.

Except she had every faith that Connor’s love for Kelsey would last. Her cousin had found true love, as had her sister. Her parents’ thirty-plus years of marriage proved their lasting commitment. Which meant the dream was only impossible for her … because of something lacking in her.

Emily turned the faucets on full blast and roughly scrubbed at her hands. Todd was the one at fault, and she needed to stop blaming herself. Yet the doubts picked away at her self-confidence like hungry, spiteful ravens.

I know when a woman’s in love, and I know when she’s heartbroken. And you, sweetheart, are neither.

On the dance floor Emily had done her best to dismiss Javy’s words. He knew nothing about her. How could he presume to look inside her heart? But the more she had to work to summon up her anger, the more she worried he was right.

She’d been so sure she loved Todd; why else would she have agreed to marry him? And yet hadn’t she sensed their relationship wasn’t all it should have been? That he spent more time telling her what he thought she wanted to hear than actually talking to her? That they never looked beyond the surface of an engagement that looked good on paper?

She now knew why Todd had been so willing to accept so little. The bitter question was, why had she?

Keeping her gaze away from the mirror, Emily finished washing her hands. She’d just thrown the paper towels away when she heard a burst of laughter coming from the outside hall.

Averse to coming face-to-face with anyone at the moment, Emily grabbed her small purse and ducked into the far stall.

The restroom door opened, letting in a burst of music and laughter, along with two women. “Tell me! I have been dying to hear the whole story.”

Emily’s stomach immediately clenched at the expectation in the woman’s voice.

“Well.” Drawing out the moment, the second woman paused. “From what I heard, she found out her fiancé was cheating on her with the family chef.”

“No!”

“Yes, and it gets even worse! It turns out they have a child together. A boy, I think.”

“Oh, that is horrible!” the second woman exclaimed, sounding all too overjoyed by the scandal.

Humiliation burned in Emily’s cheeks at the delight the women were taking in her embarrassment. The details were wrong but close enough for her to realize her family had once again trusted the wrong person. She hadn’t spoken to anyone else about Todd’s infidelity or his reasons for proposing. And yet someone—her mother or sister, most likely—had talked to a close friend, no doubt swearing them to secrecy, for all the good it had done.

The betrayal was minor compared to Todd’s lying and cheating, but for Emily, it was the last straw.

With a definitive flick of her wrist, she unlocked the stall door. The two women spun in guilty tandem, but Emily didn’t spare them a glance. Instead, she moved toward the mirror. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear, keeping her focus on her own reflection as she spoke. “It was the maid, not the chef. And she’s still pregnant. The baby hasn’t been born yet. If you’re going to talk about me, you might as well get the details straight.”

A stunned silence accompanied her exit from the restroom—probably the first time either woman had stopped talking since they’d arrived—but Emily didn’t feel better. She hadn’t thought it possible, but if anything, she actually felt worse.

She was leaving. Now. Before she gave everyone even more to talk about by foolishly bursting into tears at her cousin’s reception.

Rounding a corner, she gasped when a pair of strong hands clamped on her shoulders, stopping her from running headlong into a tuxedoed chest. “Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Javy’s laughter trailed away, and he ducked his head to look into her face. His thick eyebrows lowered over his eyes. “Emily? Are you all right?”

Desperate to escape, she said, “I—I have to get out of here.”

“Okay.” Without questioning, he draped an arm around her shoulders and guided her toward an exit. But instead of a quick farewell before he went straight back to the reception, he followed her into the summer night air.

Moonlight glinted on the surface of the nearby pool, and the multicolored lights played over the stream pouring from a rock waterfall. The peaceful setting was a sharp contrast to the turmoil churning inside her, reminding Emily this was her problem.

Everyone else was having a good time. Everyone else should be having a good time … including Javy. She hadn’t missed the hungry looks several women at the reception had slanted in his direction. He could be with any one of them right now.

Ignoring the twinge of regret, she turned to him and said, “You need to go back inside. You’re the best man. You have to give the toast and—”

“Already did.”

“You did?”

“Yep. Short and sweet, just the way the guests like it. No one came here tonight to hear me talk.”

“I’m sorry I missed it.” Despite his protest, Emily definitely enjoyed hearing Javy talk. The deep murmur of his voice held a hint of his Hispanic heritage and a trace of good humor, like he was ready to laugh at any given moment.

“Hmm, me, too. I have to say, I was a hit. Especially the love song I recited in Spanish.”

Uncertain if she could take him seriously, she protested, “You did not.”

“I did. Spanish is one of the romance languages, you know.”

Pig Latin would be one of the romance languages as long as Javy was the one speaking it. She was willing to bet every woman in the ballroom had gone a little weak at the knees listening to him, and maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t been inside.

The memory of their dance still lingered, not only in her mind, but in every part of her body that had brushed his as they swayed together. She could still feel the softness of his hair on her fingertips, the broad shoulders beneath her hands and the press of his thighs against her own….

Desire still tingled along nerve endings every place they had touched, and the last thing she needed was Javy’s Spanish love song as a soundtrack.

Holding out his arm, he said, “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“For a walk. Unless you’d rather be alone.”

Emily knew she should take the easy out he’d given her. Not because she actually wanted to be alone, but because being with a man of Javier Delgado’s reputation was not smart.

Or maybe it was, she thought suddenly. After feeling like she’d lived her whole life with blinders on, maybe taking a walk with her eyes wide-open was the smartest thing she could do.