Читать книгу How To Romance A Runaway Bride - Teri Wilson - Страница 11

Chapter One

Zander Wilde was seeing things. It was the only explanation. He was hallucinating. Or having a stroke. Anything. Because the woman in a frothy white wedding gown who’d just burst through the door of his birthday party at the Bennington Hotel couldn’t possibly be real. Not when she looked so very much like Allegra had all those years ago.

“Let’s make a deal. If neither of us is married by the time we turn thirty, we’ll marry each other,” Zander had said. “Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Allegra had replied.

Zander’s throat grew tight. He hadn’t thought about that conversation in a long time. A very long time. Unless the past week or so counted. But it was normal to remember such things under the circumstances, wasn’t it? He was turning thirty, and that impulsive little arrangement was a childhood memory. Nothing more. Nothing less. It didn’t actually mean anything.

Except here she was, almost a decade and a half later, dressed from head to toe in bridal white.

No one else seemed to notice her sudden appearance, so maybe she was indeed a figment of his imagination. Either that, or the party guests had been distracted by the arrival of his enormous birthday cake. With any luck, it was the former.

He tore his gaze away from her and focused instead on the cake sitting on the table in front of him. The blaze from its thirty candles warmed his face. Someone started to sing the lyrics to “Happy Birthday to You”—maybe one of his sisters or another of the Wildes. He didn’t even know. He couldn’t seem to concentrate on the very real people and the very real celebration going on around him.

He glanced back up. She was still there—the woman in white—looking even more like Allegra. Same honey-colored hair tumbling about her shoulders in waves. Same petite frame. She pressed a hand to her abdomen and took a few deep breaths, nodding to herself the way she’d always done backstage before a dance competition when she was a teenager. Zander had witnessed this private ceremony of nerves on many occasions. He’d just never seen it performed when Allegra looked like she’d recently climbed down from atop a wedding cake.

Zander blinked. Hard. This was one realistic daydream.

He cleared his throat and fixed his attention on the candles melting all over the thick frosting of the chocolate-bourbon masterpiece the hotel’s pastry chef had created. The pâtissier had really gone all out. It was just another perk that came with being CEO of one of New York’s most legendary hotels, Zander supposed. He forced himself to smile—or tried, at least—and realized the singing had stopped.

“You going to blow those out?” Ryan Wilde asked.

Everyone around the table looked at Zander. His sister Tessa and her fiancé, Julian. His mother, Emily, along with about four dozen or so other party guests. All of Zander’s staff and closest friends, including his date, whose name he couldn’t quite recall at the moment.

Susan. Or Stacy. Something that began with an S. They weren’t serious, obviously. Zander’s dalliances never were.

And now you’re seeing imaginary brides.

He was losing it.

No. No, he wasn’t. He was perfectly competent. He was at the peak of his career. Two months ago, GQ had named him one of Manhattan’s “Top Thirty Under Thirty.” He was one of the most eligible bachelors in New York, and he had every intention of staying that way.

The ancient deal he’d made with Allegra was messing with his head, that’s all. Which was more than a little irritating. Not to mention absurd on every level. Zander hadn’t set eyes on Allegra Clark in over a decade, and he was certain it had been even longer than that since she’d given him a passing thought. She’d left Manhattan without even saying goodbye.

Enough reminiscing. Some things were best left forgotten, and whatever had—or more accurately, hadn’t—gone on between him and Allegra was definitely one of those things. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and readied himself to blow out his candles. In the second before he exhaled, he heard something. A voice from his past, as breathy and velvety soft as he remembered.

“Oh, my,” the voice said.

Zander looked up.

“It seems I’m interrupting something.” The woman standing with her back pressed to the ballroom door offered a tentative smile. “I’m sorry.”

Allegra Clark. Not a figment of his overactive imagination, but real. As real as her floor-length white gown and the bouquet of blush-pink roses in her hand.

Zander opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn’t seem to form words. What in the hell was going on?

“It’s nothing. Just a little birthday party,” Zander’s mother said. She shot a questioning glance at Zander and he stared back at her, paralyzed by shock.

Emily cleared her throat. “Join us. The more the merrier, and all that.”

She jumped up from her chair, scurried toward Allegra and gathered her into a welcoming hug. His sister Chloe followed suit, and Zander began to wonder if anyone was going to mention Allegra’s unusual attire or if they were going to keep pretending anything about this scenario was remotely normal.

“Thank you,” Allegra said. She cast a panicked glance at the closed door behind her. Then her chin wobbled in a way that brought about a sudden, intense ache in Zander’s chest.

He looked past Allegra, hoping with every fiber of his being that there was a groom standing somewhere nearby. Surely there was.

No such luck. There was no husband, apparently. A growing sense of panic welled in Zander’s chest, which did nothing to improve his mood. He’d single-handedly restored the Bennington Hotel to its glory days. He was one of the most powerful CEOs in the city. He could snap his fingers and in an instant, a team of security officers would materialize and discreetly escort Allegra from the building. Under no circumstances should he be losing his cool over the sight of a woman in a wedding gown.

But this wasn’t just any woman.

“Hey.” Beside Zander, Tessa frowned. “Isn’t that...”

“Yes. It is.” Since Tessa was hearing impaired, Zander signed the words in addition to speaking them in a voice that sounded angrier than he intended.

He actually hadn’t realized he was angry. Surprised? Yes. Confused? Absolutely. But angry? At Allegra? He wouldn’t have admitted as much back in the day. But he supposed he was. In reality, he’d probably been angry at Allegra for a very long time.

“Allegra Clark. Wow,” Tessa muttered. “After all this time.”

“Yep,” Zander said and drained his glass of Veuve Clicquot. He should probably do something. Or at least speak to her. But he was at a complete loss. He just sat there like an idiot, staring as his other sister and his mother made a big fuss over Allegra. They hurried her over to the bar, oohing and aahing all the way across the expanse of the ballroom.

“Let’s get you something to drink. A brandy, perhaps. You seem rattled,” his mother said.

Chloe beamed at Allegra. “Isn’t that a lovely dress, though? You look beautiful.”

She did, actually. Quite beautiful. Far prettier than Zander remembered, which was something of a shock. Even when they’d been at odds, Allegra had never failed to take his breath away.

He could remember with perfect clarity the first time it had happened—a simmering summer evening in early August. He and Allegra couldn’t have been older than ten or eleven. They’d taken advantage of her father’s place on the board of the Museum of Natural History and spent the day wandering among the dinosaurs in the building’s cool air-conditioning. Allegra had been running ahead of him, like she always did, while he struggled to catch up. Then she’d stopped suddenly to turn and say something. For the life of him, he couldn’t recall what she’d said. But he remembered everything else about that moment—the swirl of starlight in the windows overhead, the massive T. rex skeleton looming behind her in the darkness, strange and beautiful.

Most of all, he remembered the way his heart had stopped when she’d smiled. It was as if he’d seen her for the very first time, this girl he’d known for as long as he’d been alive.

Allegra’s pretty, he’d thought. The realization had struck him like a physical force. He remembered clutching at the front of his T-shirt, not unlike the time a basketball had hit him hard in the back at recess and knocked the wind right out of him.

But they’d been kids back then, Allegra no more than a girl. The woman who’d just interrupted his birthday party was all grown-up, and to Zander’s great dismay, she was very possibly the most stunning creature he’d ever set eyes on. She had impossibly full lips, eyes that glittered like sapphires and an arch in her left eyebrow that gave him the impression she’d accumulated more than her fair share of secrets over the course of the past decade.

“What do you suppose she’s doing here?” Tessa turned to look at Zander.

Zander coughed and tore his gaze from the long row of tiny white buttons that ran the full length of Allegra’s spine, stopping just above the curve of her lush bottom. “How should I know?”

Tessa’s gaze narrowed. “Hey, didn’t you ask her to marry you once?”

Zander clenched his jaw. “No.”

Because he hadn’t. Not technically. They’d had a deal. A stupid, childish deal. They’d been thick as thieves back then. Either one of them could have suggested it.

It had been Zander’s idea, though.

That much he couldn’t deny.

* * *

Allegra took the glass one of the women thrust at her and cleared her throat. “Thank you, um...”

Both of the women peering back at her looked familiar.

She took a swig of the amber liquid and nearly choked. Allegra never drank alcohol straight up. Then again, she’d never run out on a wedding before. Today was a day of firsts, it seemed.

She stared into her glass. “What is this again?”

“Brandy,” the older woman said. “Neat.”

Allegra let out a snort. Neat. What a joke. There was nothing neat about her current situation. She couldn’t have made a bigger mess if she’d tried.

She took another swallow, a smaller one this time. Her head spun a little. She was vaguely aware of her bridal bouquet slipping from her grasp and falling onto the ballroom floor with a thud.

The older of the two women bent to pick it up, and when Allegra took in her straight spine and the fluid grace of her movements, reality dawned. “Mrs. Wilde?”

“Yes, dear,” she said, and Allegra blinked back tears.

Emily Wilde had been her childhood dance teacher. More than that, really. She’d been Zander’s mother. Allegra had spent more time at the Wilde home than she had her own.

Her gaze flitted to the younger woman standing beside Emily. “Chloe, is that you?”

“It is.” Chloe smiled. “It’s so good to see you, Allegra.”

What was happening? She hadn’t seen any of the Wildes in years, not since she’d left Manhattan. Now here they were, at her wedding.

No. You fled from your wedding, remember?

That’s right. Allegra probably shouldn’t be drinking on an empty stomach. Emily and Chloe weren’t at her wedding. Rather, they were in the room next door at some kind of fancy celebration. Allegra’s gaze drifted from one end of the dazzling ballroom to the other. There were people everywhere. In her haste to escape her nuptials, she’d dashed into the first door she’d seen. It led to an adjoining ballroom apparently.

She’d crashed a party.

In a wedding dress.

Wonderful.

Allegra closed her eyes and took another fortifying gulp of her brandy. Somewhere close by, a throat cleared. A very masculine throat.

She opened her eyes and found a dashing man dressed in what could only be called a power suit parting the crowd and charging straight toward her with a few hotel staff members trailing behind him. Everything about the man exuded confidence, from his peaked lapels and slicked-back hair to the bold Windsor knot in his tie. But beneath his arrogant exterior, there was something undeniably familiar.

Allegra’s knees went wobbly.

Zander. Zander Wilde. Her Zander.

Not that he’d ever actually been hers. They’d never dated or anything. He hadn’t taken her to prom or the homecoming dance. They’d just been friends. Best friends. And for some reason, that had made Allegra feel even closer to him than if she’d been his girlfriend. Girlfriends came and went. Zander had known her.

But that was yesterday. Now she could only stand there and try to make sense of the fact that he was wearing a three-piece suit just like the one her father had always worn. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. Not one bit. And he looked so...so...serious. Angry, even.

Allegra cast a glance over her shoulder in search of the object of his wrath, but there was no one there. She swiveled to face Zander again. Sure enough, his glare appeared to be aimed directly at her.

Her heart started pounding again. Her tummy did a little flip. But she didn’t feel panicky. No, this was something different. Something not as frightening as a panic attack. In fact, it almost felt like attraction.

Odd.

And wrong. So very wrong. This was Zander. Her friend. Or at least he’d been her friend. Now he was just...nothing. And Allegra was still wearing the dress she’d chosen to wear to her wedding. To another man. So there was nothing remotely appropriate about the butterflies swarming in her belly.

She swallowed and decided they weren’t butterflies at all. She was overwhelmed. Period. It had been quite a day. A lump formed in her throat, and she suddenly had to blink back tears.

Zander came to a stop directly in front of her. A furious knot tensed in his jaw. His very square, very manly jaw. Zander Wilde had done quite a bit of growing up since she’d seen him last.

“Allegra.” He gave her a businesslike nod, as if she was a total stranger.

Why on earth was he acting so ridiculous?

“Zander.” She threw her arms around him in a bear hug. Maybe it was a little presumptuous since they hadn’t seen each other in so many years. But gosh, it was good to see him. Better than she would ever have imagined. The lump in her throat grew threefold.

Zander stiffened and promptly peeled her arms away from him. “Could everyone let us have a word for a minute, please? In private.”

Chloe smiled at Allegra over Zander’s shoulder, then wandered to the far side of the ballroom along with the others. Emily, however, lingered.

Zander seemed to sense her presence. “You, too, Mom.”

She shook her head. “Zander, maybe you should—”

“Mom, please. This is between Allegra and me.” For a split second, his steely gaze grew soft. Allegra caught a brief glimpse of the boy she’d once known. Then before she could even smile at him, he was gone. “No one else.”

“Fine.” Emily glared at the back of her son’s head, then aimed a parting smile at Allegra. “It’s nice to see you again, dear. You look gorgeous. Such a beautiful bride.”

Bride. Oh, goodness.

In her shock at seeing Zander again, she’d forgotten all about her dress. He clearly hadn’t. The way he was staring, she might think Zander Wilde had never seen a woman in a wedding gown before.

“What was that all about? Clearing the room.” She glanced at the hotel staff nervously hovering just a few yards away. “Are those your minions? Are you going to have them escort me off the property or something?”

Allegra laughed.

Zander didn’t. Not even close. “Those are my employees. I’m the CEO of this hotel. No one is going to escort you off the property, but come on, Allegra. You can’t be serious right now. What are you doing here? And why on earth are you wearing that?”

He waved a hand at her gown, but didn’t seem to look directly at it. In fact, he appeared to avoid looking directly at her altogether and instead focused on a spot somewhere above her head.

This was getting more annoying by the minute. She’d just bailed on her wedding. She was mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted. She needed a nap and a good long cry. Not an argument. Especially an argument that had somehow started without her.

“I’ll tell you why I’m wearing this as soon as you explain why you’re being such a jerk. You used to be nice.” She had no intention of confiding in him. Frankly, she couldn’t think of a more humiliating idea. And she didn’t want to cry in front of him, but bitter tears were already stinging her eyes. A sob caught in the back of her throat.

She should be married right now, but here she was. Alone. Just like always.

How had everything gone so horribly wrong?

She looked Zander up and down, from the top of his perfectly groomed head to the tips of his wing tip–clad toes. She wished he wasn’t so good-looking. It made his new, smug attitude much more annoying. “What exactly is going on here?”

Zander’s gaze narrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Allegra pretended not to notice how much broader that chest had gotten since eleventh grade.

“What’s going on is my birthday party. My thirtieth birthday,” he said with a tone that implied she should have known.

Ten years ago, maybe even five, she would have. But Allegra had spent more than a decade trying so hard to eradicate bad memories that some of the good ones slipped through the cracks. The bad ones never did.

Her gaze strayed toward the birthday cake on the table in the center of the room. She’d run out on a wedding and crashed her oldest friend’s birthday party all on the same day. And if the woman standing beside the cake looking slightly forlorn was any indication, she’d also interrupted Zander on a date.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ruined your party. Happy birthday.” She swallowed. Something still didn’t seem quite right. Why would Zander, who so clearly had grown into an adult man, be so upset about a birthday party?

She didn’t care. This painful little reunion was over. Allegra had more important things to worry about—things like picking up the shattered pieces of her life. Again.

She gathered her billowing skirt in her hands and moved in the direction of the ballroom’s grand double doors. With any luck, she could somehow make it to the hotel’s registration desk without bumping into any of her wedding guests. Or, heaven forbid, the press. “I’ll just get a room and—”

Zander cut her off. “Stop, Allegra. This isn’t happening.”

“What’s not happening?” Ugh, was the hotel full? Couldn’t Mr. Hotshot CEO pull some strings and get her a room?

She hated to ask him for a favor, especially when he was looking at her like he’d love nothing more than to turn her out on the street in her Vera Wang. But there were reporters outside. She needed a room. And she really, really needed to get out of her wedding dress and into something else. Anything else. Pronto.

“This. Us.” Zander inhaled a deep, measured breath. Then he finally looked at her. Really looked. Allegra almost wished he hadn’t, because these weren’t the same eyes she remembered from her childhood, full of innocence and hope. She didn’t know the man who belonged to these eyes. “I won’t marry you, Allegra. Not now. Not ever.”