Woman To Wed?. PENNY JORDAN
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“I never wanted... ”
Claire stopped, but Brad knew what she was going to say.
“You never wanted me here in the first place,” he guessed wryly.
“Why can’t you leave me alone to live my life the way I want to?” she demanded fiercely. “You...even Sally with that ridiculous trick to force us to catch her bouquet. As though anyone places any credence on that ridiculous superstition these days.”
“What superstition?” Brad asked her curiously.
“The one that says the girl who catches the bride’s bouquet will be the next to marry,” Claire told him angrily. “Sally arranged it so that both her two bridesmaids and I were tricked into catching it.”
Claire glowered at him furiously as she saw the way he had started to grin.
“Look, I’ve got to go,” he said, “but I am coming back, and when I do...don’t even bother to think about running away.”
What is more natural than a bride wanting her closest friends also to find happiness in love? For Sally, this means tricking three of her wedding guests into catching her bouquet! Three women, each very different, but all with their own reasons for never wanting to marry. That is why they agree to a pact to stay single, but just how long will it take for the bouquet to begin its magic?
Penny Jordan has worked her magic on these three linked stories. One of Mills & Boon most successful and popular authors, she has written three compelling romances—all complete stories in themselves—which follow the lives—and loves—of Claire, Poppy and Star. Woman to Wed? is Claire’s story. She is Sally’s youthful stepmother, whose calm, well-ordered world is about to be shattered forever.
THE BRIDE’S BOUQUET—three women make a pact to stay single, but one by one they fall, seduced by the power of love
Woman to Wed?
Penny Jordan
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Table of Contents
THERE has been a long tradition at weddings that the one to catch the bride’s bouquet as she throws it will be the next to marry.
The bride emerged from the hotel bedroom, giving her skirts a final shake, turning round to check on the long, flowing satin length of her train before turning to smile lovingly into the eyes of her new husband.
Her two adult bridesmaids—her best friend and her husband’s young cousin—and her stepmother had been dismissed for this, her final appearance in her wedding gown. Chris could be her attendant on this occasion, she had told them.
‘Come on; we’d better go down,’ he warned her. ‘Otherwise everyone will be wondering what on earth we’re doing.’
Laughing, they walked to the top of the stairs and then paused to stand and watch the happy crowd in the room below them. The reception was in full swing.
The bride turned to her husband and whispered emotionally, ‘This has been the happiest day of my life.’ ‘And mine too,’ Chris returned, squeezing Sally’s hand and bending his head to kiss her.
Arm in arm they started to walk down the stairs, and then, somehow or other, Sally missed her footing and slipped. The small group of people clustered at the foot of the stairs waiting for them, alerted to what was happening by Sally’s frightened cry, rushed forward, James, the best man, Chris’s elder brother and two of the ushers going to the aid of the bride, whilst the two bridesmaids and the bride’s stepmother reacted immediately and equally instinctively, quickly reaching out to protect the flowers that the bride had dropped as she’d started to fall.
As three pairs of equally feminine but very different hands reached out to grasp the bouquet, the bride, back on her feet now, smiled mischievously down at them and warned, ‘That’s it! There’ll be three more weddings now.’
‘No!’
‘Never!’
‘Impossible!’
Three very firm and determined female voices made the same immediate denial; three pairs of female eyes all registered an immediate and complete rejection of the bride’s triumphant assertion.
Marry? Them? Never.
The three of them looked at one another and then back at the bride.
It was just a silly old superstition. It meant nothing, and besides, each of them knew that no matter what the other two chose to do she was most definitely not going to get married.
The bride was still laughing as she swept down the few remaining stairs on her husband’s arm.
Her two bridesmaids had both already separately and jointly informed her that they had no intention of taking part in any silly old rituals which involved the degradation of them vying for possession of her wedding bouquet, and as for her stepmother...
A tiny frown pleated Sally’s