The Wedding Countdown. Barbara Hannay
Читать онлайн книгу.
section>
“We start with the bride.”
The dean nodded at Tessa, and she hoped her answering smile looked better than it felt.
“You stand in front of me, dear.” He looked up at Isaac expectantly. “Could you stand in as groom for now?”
“Oh, no!” cried Tessa. And everybody looked at her curiously. This twist of fate was just too cruel. Silently she pleaded to Isaac. I can’t bear this. Please refuse. It’s not necessary.
Isaac’s eyes bored into her, full of black heat. “Yes, of course I’ll help out.”
“You won’t find yourself married to the wrong person,” the dean said with a chuckle.
“Although—” and Tessa wondered why he chose to look straight at her as he spoke “—I’m afraid there are many couples who discover too late that they’ve made the wrong choice.”
Barbara Hannay was born in Sydney, Australia, educated in Brisbane and has spent most of her adult life living in tropical north Queensland, where she and her husband have raised four children. While she has enjoyed many happy times camping and canoeing in the bush, she also delights in an urban lifestyle—chamber music, contemporary dance, movies and dining out. An English teacher, she has always loved writing and now, by having her stories published, she is living her most cherished fantasy.
Books by Barbara Hannay
HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®
3578—OUTBACK WIFE AND MOTHER
The Wedding Countdown
Barbara Hannay
MILLS & BOON
Before you start reading, why not sign up?
Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!
Or simply visit
Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
FOUR days to go…
‘It’s the most beautiful wedding dress ever!’
Tessa twirled in front of the long, oval mirror, her blue eyes shining as she watched her reflection. She turned and looked over her shoulder to examine the rear view of her elegant, low-backed gown. The exquisite detailing of the silk brocade bodice and the train of fine chiffon, drifting away from clusters of the palest of pale pink roses at her waist, combined to create a gown that was as pretty as a fairy tale.
‘It’s just perfect, darling,’ Rosalind Morrow agreed, her gaze misty as she observed her daughter’s happiness.
Flashing her mother an excited smile, Tessa paraded across the room, delighting in the luxurious rustle and whisper of expensive silk as she moved. ‘It’s going to be a dream wedding,’ she sighed happily.
‘Yes,’ replied Rosalind, but her echoing sigh didn’t sound quite so cheerful.
Tessa looked at her mother sharply. Rosalind’s expression had grown cautious, and she twisted her hands nervously.
‘Is something wrong, Mum?’ Tessa asked.
‘Of course not, darling, all the wedding plans are running like clockwork.’ But then, in contradiction to her reassuring reply, Rosalind turned away. ‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong,’ she went on with a shaky little laugh, ‘but there is one tiny titbit of news.’
‘Oh?’ responded Tessa, suddenly tense, her heart thumping uncomfortably. ‘What’s that?’
Rosalind plucked at an invisible piece of lint on her neat navy linen skirt. ‘You won’t believe this,’ she said, then paused and drew in a deep breath as if gathering courage to broach her news. ‘Isaac’s come home.’
Panic flashed through Tessa. She stared at her mother in silent horror. Her eyes flickered to her reflection in the mirror, and she saw the colour bleach from her face as Rosalind’s words echoed crazily off her bedroom walls.
Isaac’s come home. Isaac’s come home!
From a long way off, she heard her mother’s cry. ‘Tessa, don’t look like that!’
But then her ears filled with the deafening thud of her pounding heartbeat. The room, her mother and the reflection of her wedding gown blurred and swirled before her eyes. A sickening wave of dizziness swamped her.
‘Tessa, for heaven’s sake, you look terrible.’
Reaching behind her, Tessa felt for the edge of her bed, and when her hand touched the quilted cover, she sank gratefully onto it.
‘Are you all right, dear?’ Rosalind whispered, her mouth quivering into a frightened smile. ‘Should I ring your father? How do you feel?’
Tessa struggled to gain composure. ‘I’m fine. I—I forgot to eat any lunch today,’ she said, lying, desperate to cover her panic. ‘And…and you should have warned me about…about Isaac.’
‘Of course I should,’ Rosalind soothed. ‘I guess I thought you were over him after all these years.’
‘Over him, Mum? Of course I’m over him. I was never…’ Tessa stopped abruptly. She quickly tried to change the subject. ‘Help me up, please,’ she said. She stood gingerly, trying to ignore the despair that threatened to engulf her.
Isaac’s come home!
How could her whole world be up-ended so abruptly?
‘Oh, dear. What will your