In Bed With...Collection. Emma Darcy

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In Bed With...Collection - Emma  Darcy


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the bond they shared.

      “I take it that means yes,” he said happily, his eyes shining into hers.

      “The sun will never set on my love for you, either,” she promised huskily. “I’ll die with your ring on my finger, Nathan.”

      He laughed. “I’d rather you marry me first. If it’s okay with you, that will be a week after the resort closes.”

      “Anything you arrange is okay with me,” she said blissfully.

      “Then let’s go and get my mother moving on it.”

      “Your mother?”

      “She never had a daughter. You’re it, Miranda. Her first bride in the family. She can hardly wait to arrange a wedding to remember.”

      “Really?” Miranda had never allowed hope or imagination to zoom that far. “I was worried she might not approve of us.”

      “Big wedding! Huge celebration to welcome in the new mistress of King’s Eden. Brace yourself for the inevitable, my love! No escape from it.”

      She didn’t want to escape from it. At long last she truly belonged somewhere…to this man, this place, this family…and their wedding would put the final seal on the sense of belonging.

      Elizabeth watched them enter the sitting-room, hand in hand, their faces aglow with happiness…a very well matched couple, she thought with satisfaction. The party of people Nathan had invited to celebrate the engagement thronged around them, showering congratulations and good wishes—all the station community and the friends Miranda had made at the resort, most of them radiating pleasure in the announcement.

      Though not quite everyone…

      A wistful look on Sam’s face, Elizabeth noted. And a touch of envy on Tommy’s. Nothing like seeing two people really getting it together to bring home one’s lack of success in that area. Perhaps Nathan and Miranda’s wedding could be used to promote the match that should have been made years ago, but for two very stubborn and proud personalities.

      Tommy as best man.

      Sam as chief bridesmaid.

      The goodwill of the day rubbing off on them.

      Some discreet meddling.

      Oh, yes, this was going to be a big wedding.

      Elizabeth had the next generation of Kings right in her sights!

       The Playboy King’s Wife

      Emma Darcy

       CHAPTER ONE

      A KING family wedding…but it wasn’t hers and Tommy’s as she’d dreamed of so many times.

      Even as Samantha Connelly told herself it was a terrible thing to envy people she really liked and wished well, the feeling would not go away. In another hour or so, Miranda Wade would be exchanging marriage vows with Nathan King, their love for each other would be shining out of them, and Sam just knew she was going to be sick with envy.

      The worst of it was, there was no way to avoid seeing this wedding through at close quarters. As the one and only bridesmaid, she couldn’t wander off and lose herself amongst the crowd of guests. She had to be on hand, performing her duties as helper of the bride, and the whole time she would have to suffer being linked to Tommy King, Nathan’s brother and best man, wishing she was the bride and he was the groom.

      Tommy…who still treated her like a kid sister to be petted and teased and taken for granted as a background part of his life.

      Tommy…who’d probably be eyeing off every attractive woman at the wedding. But not her. Never her. And she’d end up saying something mean and bitchy to him out of sheer frustration, when what she truly wanted…

      A knock on her door and Elizabeth King’s call, “Are you dressed, Sam? May I come in?” forced a swift change of expression from gloom to the expected pleasurable excitement.

      “Yes. I’m ready,” she replied, preparing herself for the all too discerning scrutiny of Tommy’s mother.

      Elizabeth stepped into the room that had been allotted to Sam years ago when she’d first come to work on the great cattle station of King’s Eden. Those days were long gone, but the sense of being at home here with Elizabeth filling the role of her stand-in mother still lingered. Comfortable familiarity and affection poured into both their smiles as they viewed each other in their wedding finery.

      “You look wonderful, Elizabeth.” Sam spoke first, admiring the graceful silvery grey tunic and long skirt the older woman wore with distinction. The outfit was made of a soft, fine knit and trimmed with satin ribbon, and it was set off with the beautiful pearls she always wore. Even in her sixties Elizabeth King was still a very handsome woman, tall, white-haired, with the brilliant dark brown eyes Tommy had inherited.

      “So do you, Sam,” came the warm reply. “More beautiful than I’ve ever seen you.”

      The compliment stirred a self-deprecating laugh. “The miracle of cosmetics. I hardly recognise myself. No freckles on show, my hair done up…” She turned to her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. “It’s like looking at a stranger.”

      “That’s because you’ve never bothered making the most of yourself,” Elizabeth commented dryly, walking over to stand behind her. Their eyes met in the mirror. “Sometimes it does a woman’s heart good to see herself at her best.”

      Would Tommy see her as sexy and beautiful today? Sam wryly wondered. The lilac satin strapless gown certainly emphasised every curve of her figure. Not that she was lushly curved like Miranda. All the same, she was generally satisfied with the shape of her body and it was in proportion to her average height. The slim-line gown gave her an elegance she’d never attached to herself before, but sexy?

      “Well, at least I can’t be seen as a tomboy in this dress,” she commented, trying to ease the tight, hopeless feeling in her chest.

      “You shouldn’t feel like one, either. Why not let yourself enjoy being a woman today? Don’t fight it. Just let this image you see in the mirror take over and be you,” Elizabeth quietly advised.

      “But it’s not really me. All this clever make up…”

      “Brings out the lovely blue of your eyes and highlights the fine bone structure of your face.”

      “I’ve never worn my hair like this.”

      Sam tentatively touched the copper curls that had been raked back and pinned into a crown around the top of her head. Usually they dangled in a mop around her face, hiding her ears and her feelings, when she needed to hide them. This style left her without any protection.

      And she wasn’t at all sure of the wisdom of wearing the artificial lilac rose, pushed into one side of the high nest of curls which Sam suspected would spring out and escape the pins sooner or later. However, this look was what Miranda wanted and she was the bride, so Sam had kept her mouth firmly shut while the hairdresser had done what Miranda had directed.

      “Can’t you see how elegant it is?” Elizabeth appealed. “Just for once your face isn’t dwarfed by a riot of curls around it, and having your hair up bares the line of your neck and shoulders, showing off your milky skin.”

      It made Sam feel very bare, especially with the strapless dress, and she simply wasn’t used to elegant, which made her very nervous about having to carry it off. What if the rose fell out and her curls tumbled down? She could just see Tommy laughing at her as the elegant sham came apart.

      “It’s just not me,” she repeated with an apprehensive sigh,


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