Malone's Vow. Sandra Marton
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Liam had replied, and the slightest smile had curved his mouth, a smile that said he knew exactly what she was feeling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Jessica.”
And that had been the end of it.
Jessie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
What was the matter with her? That had been the end of it. The moment had come and gone. Liam pulled up a chair, William settled in beside her again, and she’d listened while the two friends talked about old times. Her gaze had met Liam’s once again but she’d looked quickly away and, before she knew it, the evening ended. Come stay with us, William had said, and she’d found herself fearing the answer, but Liam had thanked him politely, said he already had found a place and went off to wherever it was.
“A hostel, for all I know,” William had said cheerfully, “or a penthouse. It depends on whether his luck’s been good or bad.”
Good, Jessie thought now, remembering the expensive cut of Liam Malone’s gray suit. Or maybe bad, considering the longer-than-it-should-have-been, black-as-midnight hair that curled over his collar. She thought, too, of what William had told her, that Liam liked to gamble. Poker was his specialty, William said, but Jessie knew that women would be Liam Malone’s specialty, women who were willing to trade one night in his bed for a lifetime of hot memories.
She stood up quickly and smoothed down her skirt. Where was Carrie? Better still, where was William? She needed to see him, put her hand in his, feel the warmth of his smile.
“Got ’em!”
Jessie swung around. Her maid of honor stood in the doorway, holding a bouquet of tiny pink roses, trailing baby orchids and lacy-white stephanotis in her hand.
“Would you believe the kid who delivered the flowers left your bouquet on a table in the—”
“Have you seen William?” Jessie hadn’t meant to sound so shaky, but the look on Carrie’s face told her she hadn’t succeeded.
“What’s the matter, Jess?”
“Nothing. I just want to see him, that’s all.”
“You can’t see him. It’s bad luck for the bride and the groom to see each other before the ceremony.”
It was worse luck to think about another man before the ceremony, but Jessie knew better than to say that.
“That’s just a silly superstition.”
“Maybe, but do you really want to tempt fate?”
“No.” Jessie gave a choked laugh. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Jess.” Carrie’s voice softened. “Honey, I keep telling you, all brides are jittery.”
“I know. And I’m not jittery. I just—I need some fresh air.” Jessie gathered up her skirt so the hem wouldn’t drag. “I’m going for a walk in the garden.”
“What?” Carrie stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “You can’t! It’s only half an hour until the ceremony.”
“That’s plenty of time.”
“What if someone sees you?”
“Nobody will. I’ll go down the back stairs.”
“But—but you’ll get grass stains on the hem of your gown.”
“I won’t. See?” Jessie hoisted the gown higher.
Carrie sighed. “Well, who am I to argue with the bride? You want to go for a walk? Fine. We’ll go for a walk.”
“No!” Jessie swallowed hard. “No,” she said, more calmly, “really, I need a few minutes by myself.”
“It’s cold outside,” Carrie said worriedly. “At least take a jacket.”
“It’s okay,” Jessie said, “I know what I’m doing.”
But she didn’t. And the enormity of the lie scared the life out of her.
THE GARDEN WAS QUIET. All the hullabaloo was taking place inside the house. Liam was glad he’d decided to go for a walk where he could escape the necessity for social niceties.
He felt a lot better, too. For all he knew, Bill was right. Maybe he’d misread everything. The newlyweds would settle into a pleasantly dull marriage. A couple of years down the road he’d look at Jessica and know that he’d been wrong about her.
But if he was, then what was that invitation he’d seen in her eyes last night? What would she have done if he’d taken her up on it, if he’d walked straight across the room, pulled her out of her chair and kissed her?
Slugged him, probably, because whatever else the lady was, she wasn’t a fool. Bill would have slugged him, too, but at least he’d have learned if that soft, pink mouth tasted as sweet as it—
There was a whisper of sound just behind him. Liam drew a breath. Even before he turned around, he knew she’d be there.
“Miss Warren,” he said with deliberate courtesy.
Her chin lifted, her cheeks pinkened. Could she possibly know what he’d been thinking?
“Mr. Malone,” she said, just as courteously. “I didn’t expect to find you here.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Is it customary for brides to wander around, alone, moments before they wed?”
“I might ask you the same question about groomsmen. What are you doing in the garden?”
Liam looked at the woman who was about to marry his best friend, into the smoky blue eyes that had haunted him through a long and sleepless night.
“Looking for you,” he said, and before she could respond, he reached for her.
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