The Summer Wedding: Groom Wanted / The Man You'll Marry. Debbie Macomber
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now and then, to pretend.
Unquestionably, there was a certain amount of anticipation created by the delivery of the wedding dress and Shelly’s letter. But unlike her friend, Jill didn’t expect anything to come of this. Jill’s feet were firmly planted on the ground. She wasn’t as whimsical as Shelly, nor was she as easily influenced.
True, at twenty-eight, Jill was more than ready to marry and settle down. She knew she wanted children eventually, too. But when it came to finding the man of her dreams, she’d prefer to do it the old trial-and-error way. She didn’t need a magic wedding dress guiding her toward him!
Initially, Shelly had had many of the same thoughts herself, Jill remembered, but she’d married the first man she’d met after the dress arrived.
The first man you meet. She was thinking about that while she changed into a light cotton dress and sandals. She was still thinking about it as she rode the elevator down to the lobby to have a look around.
There must have been something in the air. Maybe it was because she was on vacation and feeling free of her usual routines and restraints; Jill didn’t know. But for some reason she found herself glancing around, wondering which man it might be.
The hotel was full of possibilities. A distinguished gentleman sauntered past. An ambassador perhaps? Or a politician? Hmm, that might be nice.
Nah, she countered silently, laughing at herself. She wasn’t interested in politics. Furthermore she didn’t see herself as an ambassador’s wife. She’d probably say the wrong thing to the wrong person and inadvertently cause an international incident.
A guy who looked like a rock star strolled her way next. Now, there was an interesting prospect, although Jill had a minor problem picturing herself married to a man who wore his hair longer than she did. He was cute, though. A definite possibility—if she took Shelly’s letter seriously.
A doctor would be ideal, Jill decided. With her medical background, they were sure to have a lot in common. She scanned the lobby area, searching for someone who looked as if he’d feel at home with a stethoscope around his neck.
No luck. Nor, for that matter, did she seem to be generating any interest herself. She might as well be invisible. So much for that! These speculations were all in fun anyway….
Swallowing an urge to laugh, she headed out the back of the hotel toward the pristine beach. A lazy evening stroll among swaying palms sounded just the thing.
She walked toward the ocean, removed her shoes and held them by the straps as she wandered ankle-deep into the delightfully warm water. She wasn’t paying much attention to where she was going, thinking, instead, about her hopes for a family of her own. Thinking about the few truly happy memories she had of her father. The Christmas when she was five and a camping trip two years later. A picnic, once. But by the time she was eight, his success had overtaken him. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her or her mother, she supposed, but—
“I wouldn’t go out much farther if I were you,” a deep male voice called from behind her.
Jill’s pulse soared at the unexpectedness of the intrusion. She saw the silhouette of a man leaning against a palm tree. In the darkness she couldn’t make out his features, yet he seemed vaguely familiar.
“I won’t,” she said, trying to see who’d spoken. Whoever it was stayed stubbornly in the shadows of the tree.
From the distance Jill noted that he had the physique of an athlete. She happened to appreciate wide, powerful shoulders on a man. She stepped closer, attempting to get a better look at him without being obvious. Although his features remained hidden, his chin was tilted at a confident angle.
She’d always found confidence an appealing trait in a man….
“I wondered if you were planning to go swimming at night. Only a fool would do that.”
Jill bristled. She had no intention of swimming. For one thing, she wasn’t dressed for it. Before she could defend herself, however, he continued, “You look like one of those helpless romantics who can’t resist testing the water. Let me guess—this is your first visit to the islands?”
Jill nodded. She’d ventured far enough onto the beach to actually see him now. Her heart sank—no wonder he’d seemed familiar. No wonder he was insulting. For the second time in a twenty-four-hour period she’d happened upon the grouch.
“I don’t suppose you took time to eat dinner, either.”
“I … had something earlier. On the plane.” That had been one of the benefits of her unexpected move to first class.
“I was there, remember?” He snickered softly. “Plastic food.”
Jill didn’t agree—she’d enjoyed it—but she wasn’t going to argue. “I don’t know what concern it is of yours,” she said.
“None,” he admitted, shrugging.
“Then my going without dinner shouldn’t bother you.” She bristled again at the intense way he was studying her. His mouth had twisted into a faint smile, and he seemed amused by her.
“Thank you for your advice,” she said stiffly, turning away from him and heading back toward the water.
“You’re not wearing your lei.”
Jill’s fingers automatically went to her neck as she stopped. She’d left it in her room when she changed clothes.
“Allow me.” He stepped forward, removed the one from his own neck and draped it around hers. Since this was her first visit to the islands, Jill didn’t know if giving someone a lei had any symbolism attached to it. She didn’t really want that kind of connection with him. Just in case.
“Thank you.” She hoped she sounded adequately grateful.
“I might have saved your life, you know.”
That was a ridiculous comment. “How?”
“You could’ve drowned.”
Jill couldn’t help it. She laughed. “Not very likely. I had no intention of swimming.”
“You can’t trust the tides here. Even this close to shore, the waves are capable of jerking your feet right out from under you. You might easily have been swept out to sea.”
“That’s absurd.”
“Perhaps,” he agreed, amicably enough. “But I was hoping you’d realize you’re in my debt.”
Ah, now they were getting somewhere. This man wasn’t given to generosity. She’d bet a month’s wages that he’d initiated the conversation for his own purposes. He’d had plenty of time on their flight from Seattle to advise her about swimming.
No, he was after something.
“What is it you want?” she asked bluntly.
He grinned that cocky, unused smile of his and nodded. Apparently this was high praise of her finely honed intuitive skills.
“Nothing much. I was hoping you’d attend a small business dinner with me.”
“Tonight?”
He nodded again. “You did mention you hadn’t eaten.”
“Yes, but …”
“It’ll only take an hour or so of your time.” He sounded impatient, as if he’d expected her to agree to his scheme without question.
“I don’t even know who you are. Why would I want to attend a dinner party with you? I’m Jill Morrison, by the way.”
“Jordan Wilcox,” he said abruptly. “All right, if you must know, I need a woman to come with me so I won’t be forced to offend someone I can’t afford to alienate.”
“Then don’t.”
“He’s not the one I’m