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      She watched Leo’s face light up as he reached out for the baby and felt a pang of envy. What would it be like to have a little person so very pleased to see you?

      Wonderful. Amazing.

      He slid the sunglasses up onto his head and held his arms out, and she could see the wonder in his eyes.

      ‘She’s wet,’ Amy warned him, but he just shrugged.

      ‘I don’t care. I need a shower anyway. Come here, mia bellissima bambina,’ Leo said, reaching for the baby, but his fingers brushed Amy’s breast and she sucked in her breath. It was barely audible but he heard it, and their eyes clashed and held, his darkening to midnight.

      For a moment they both froze. She couldn’t breathe, the air jammed solid in her lungs, and then with a muttered apology he lifted Ella out of her arms and turned away, laughing and kissing her all over her face, making her giggle deliciously and freeing Amy from his spell.

      After a second of paralysing immobility she grabbed a towel and wrapped it firmly round herself, then gathered up their things and headed for the steps, Leo falling in beside her at the top. They walked back together to their apartment, Ella perched on his shoulders with her little fists knotted in his hair, while he told her a little about his day, and they both pretended that the moment by the pool hadn’t happened.

      Best Friend to Wife and Mother?

      Caroline Anderson

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CAROLINE ANDERSON describes herself: ‘Mother, writer, armchair gardener, unofficial tearoom researcher and eater of lovely cakes. Not necessarily in that order. I love my family, my friends, reading, writing contemporary love stories, hearing from readers, walks by the sea with coffee/ice-cream/cake thrown in, torrential rain, sunshine in spring/autumn. What I hate: revising manuscripts, losing my pets, fighting with my family, cold weather, hot weather, computers, clothes-shopping. My plans? To keep smiling and writing!’

      MILLS & BOON

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      Huge thanks to Caroline and Adam, and Bryony and Owen, who inadvertently gave me wonderful wedding inspiration, and to Shirley and Roger, Mike and Trice, who invited us to share those days with them.

       I love you all.

      Contents

       Cover

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       EPILOGUE

       Extract

       Copyright

      ‘ARE YOU READY?’

      He eased a flyaway strand of hair from the corner of her eye, his touch as light as a butterfly’s wing, his fingertips lingering for a moment as their eyes met and held. His voice, as familiar to her as her own, was steady and reassuring, but his words didn’t reassure her. They sent her mind into free-fall.

      They were such simple words, on the surface, but layered beneath were a million unasked and unanswered questions. Questions Leo probably didn’t even know he’d asked her. Questions she’d needed to ask herself for months but somehow hadn’t got round to.

      Was she ready?

      For the wedding, yes. The planning had been meticulous, nothing left to chance. Her mother, quietly and efficiently, had seen to that. But the marriage—the lifetime—with Nick?

      Mingling with the birdsong and the voices of the people clustered outside the church gates were the familiar strains of the organ music.

      The overture for her wedding.

      No. Her marriage. Subtle difference, but hugely significant.

      Amy glanced through the doorway of the church and caught the smiles on the row of faces in the back pew, all of them craning their necks to get a better look at her. The villagers at the gate were mostly there for Leo, hoping to catch a glimpse of their favourite son, but these people in the church—her friends, Nick’s—were here to see her marry Nick.

      Today.

      Right now.

      Her heart skittered under the fitted bodice that suddenly seemed so tight she could hardly breathe.

       I can’t do this—!

      No choice. Too late now for cold feet. If she’d been going to change her mind she should have done it ages ago, before the wheels of this massive train that was her wedding had been set in motion. Or later, at a push—but not now, so late it was about to hit the buffers.

      The church was full, the food cooked, the champagne on ice. And Nick would be standing at the altar, waiting for her.

      Dear, kind, lovely Nick, who’d been there for her when her life had been in chaos, who’d just—been there, for the last three years, her friend and companion and cheerleader. Her lover. And she did love him. She did...

       Enough to marry him? Till death us do part, and all that? Or is it just the easiest thing to do?

      You can stop


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