Nyssa was stunned by Sarah’s generosity, “I can’t wear that,” she said, her voice a mere whisper.
Solo stood behind his grandmother at the opening of the door his eyes a dark morose blue as he resolutely studied the scene in front of him. They hadn’t spoken since this morning. His grandfather had hustled Solo around with this and that chore in preparation for the wedding, she supposed.
But she didn’t want to think about tomorrow. If she worried about the wedding and the consequences generated from the vows, she’d feel as if she needed to escape. She couldn’t run or hide. When the Colonel set things in motion, he did so in grand style and nothing, not even a natural disaster could stop the progress.
“Try the dress on. When grandmother asked me what size you wore I had no idea what she planned, but now that I know I approve.”
“Get out of here.” Solo’s grandmother gave him a look that would send any real man running. “You know you’re not supposed to see the dress before the wedding. Bad luck--you know.”
Nyssa groaned again. She’d done a lot of that lately. All she needed was another dose of bad luck.
“The dress is mine.” Sarah turned to Nyssa. “I want you to wear the gown.”
Nyssa was sure she would cry and cry hard. She was going to have a wedding dress, Sarah’s dress. Since her parents died, she’d never thought anything like this would ever happen to her, and it wasn’t right. The wedding was a sham, bogus. Damn.
There was no time to confront Solo, no opportunity to tell him what a mess his well-laid-plans had turned into. Sarah shooed him out of the room while he darted a quick, helpless glance her way, but he dutifully left. “Talk to you later.” He winked.
Once the door closed behind him, she felt safer, a tad more secure. The dress hung from the closet door where Sarah placed it before her grandson was prodded out of the room by her own hand.
Nyssa ran her fingers down the length of the dress, old fashioned yet in its own way still in style. The bead work, sewn on in intricate, delicate patterns accented the bodice. Tiny pearl buttons ran up the back of the dress and four fabric roses anchored the train at the waist.
“It’s beautiful,” April said.
“Exquisite,” Candace added.
With tears in her eyes she turned to Sarah. “I-I can’t wear the gown.” Her voice was thready, barely there. Awed by the dress and the thought behind the gift all the tension and the emotions she’d held in check overpowered her.
“Don’t be silly. Of course you can. Solo commandeered one of your dresses to use for a model, and I know the fit is perfect. I hired the best seamstress I know to alter it. Go ahead. Try it on.”
“I don’t know.” She didn’t want to face the implications. Nyssa couldn’t look Sarah in the eye if Sarah knew her grandson didn’t want to marry her, and she couldn’t stand to have her brother give her away. The dishonesty ate at her.
“I’ll come back later, dear, when you’re not so busy. You have to try the dress on before the ceremony--just to make sure. I can understand your hesitancy but there’s no reason to refuse my offer.”
Sarah smiled warmly then left.
A few minutes later Nyssa could hear Sarah and the Colonel in hushed voices outside her door.
A heavy silence filled the bedroom while all three women stared at each other and waited for someone to speak.
Finally, “From what I understand this is for a good cause. No one will get hurt,” Candace told her. “You’re a saint.”
“You don’t understand.” Nyssa massaged her throbbing temples. “My brother will object and if I say the vows--in his eyes--I’ll be married. Forever. Permanently.”
“You have to believe Solo when he says it will all work out. You have no choice.”
“Oh yes I do. I’ll talk to Solo.”
She stepped into the front room but Solo was gone--everyone was gone. The steady hammering from the front porch told her the preparations continued in earnest.
Sarah noticed her first and somehow knew she wanted to speak with Solo.
“He’s by the airstrip,” Sarah said.
“Thanks,” Nyssa said and headed down the trail.
When Nyssa saw him, she hesitated. He stood, straight and tall with his back to her, his hands stuffed into his pockets. The wind ruffling through his hair, his flannel shirt billowing behind him made him look rugged and a little rough around the edges.
His posture while straight and stiff, gave him a vulnerable appearance. Even as she watched him, frozen and silent in the background, he must have sensed her presence. When he turned, the smile he bestowed upon her made her heart leap, but then the smile vanished. He looked hurt, bewildered too, if that was possible.
“Nyssa.” He stepped forward. “It’s not too late to call the wedding off. I don’t want to sacrifice your integrity. At one time I thought this would all work out but the Colonel has bullied everyone.”
“I never said I wanted to stop the wedding.”
“You didn’t have to. I can tell by the pain and reluctance in your eyes.”
“Solo.” Nyssa was beside him now, her hand on his arm. She felt the slight tremor, knew she hurt him. “I love Sarah. I’d do anything for her.”
His lips quivered slightly, a smile never quite forming. “But not for me.”
Nyssa didn’t know how to answer. Indirectly, he was the single most important reason she agreed to his plan, but she couldn’t tell him the truth.
***
Solo thought he’d come to terms with all the deceit, but he hadn’t. He couldn’t stand the vulnerable, lost look that crept into Nyssa’s eyes every time the mention of marriage to him entered the conversation.
Once he started down this course he had thought it would work out, and he had never expected her to detest and abhor the idea of marriage to him. That had been the least of his concerns when the lies began.
Everything was crazy at the cabin, and he’d believed if he wandered down to the air strip to wait for his two friends, the exercise would give him a little peace. But the walk didn’t help.
Perhaps once this was over and everyone flew home, perhaps then he’d find a little quiet time--with Nyssa, a few minutes to reach a compromise and perhaps understand. Once he could get her alone they could sort out the strange physical reaction that had blossomed the last few days between them.
Yet he didn’t think there was much chance the way she acted now. For the past few hours, she’d barely said one word to him. The few times they spoke he held his breath and wondered if she would call off the wedding.
Nyssa sent him mixed vibes. He’d known her for ten years and he’d always desired her and wanted her. But she'd always made it clear he was just a friend.
All she had to do was look at him, and his body went into overdrive, hormones flooding his system. He felt like a teenager.
The last two encounters he had with her made him rethink the sexual affinity between them--his lust--the honeyed temptation. He had every reason to believe she might let him do whatever he wanted with her, yet he was above all else a gentleman. He would not make love to her. For God sakes, she was engaged to another man and she meant to marry that man, not him.
Despite the powerful feelings he had for her, he respected her. She was sweet and innocent and if he was right, untouched. Her principles had always been above reproach, still were, which explained why she had so much trouble with the wedding.
Yet his Nyssa had changed over the last two years. He had never expected her to give up her career in New York and resettle in Bend, Oregon. Oh, she’d always enjoyed sports, long rides on her bicycle too, but a bike shop? Tours?
Before she left the city for the country, she must have been close to making her first million. Of course she never talked about her job--about what exactly triggered the move. He’d heard rumors but there was always gossip.
When she’d first come back, she didn’t tell him why and he didn’t push her. He’d hoped when the time was right, she’d t
alk.
That was why Robert was such a puzzle to him. Robert represented every ideal she’d previously held, and the way of life she’d left behind. Perhaps she couldn’t give it all up. Perhaps that was why she wanted to marry Robert.
Solo was nobody’s fool and he cared too much about Nyssa to hurt her dreams or her future. He knew he didn’t have anything to offer that Nyssa wanted. Nyssa wanted Robert and if she slept with him, Solo St. John, the act would cancel her dream.
So he exerted all his willpower to hold back, to stay far, far away from her. But what would he do after they married? When they were alone in the cabin and he had every legal right to make love to his wife.
He could kick himself for the foolhardy belief he could control his physical desire for his pal Nyssa Harrington. God, but he’d thought she would throw up her hands in horror. It would be a miracle if he could carry out this fiasco without a hitch.
He was a fool. He felt manipulated and he didn’t understand why. After all it was his idea. When he watched his grandmother, saw the twinkle in her eyes as she spoke of the wedding, he remembered why he suggested, no, begged Nyssa to pretend.
His grandmother improved everyday. Her face had more color and she didn’t look quite so fragile anymore. He knew his grandmother wanted a grandchild--now that was a challenge. How was he going to give her a grandchild when he didn’t mean to sleep with his bride?
A clod of dirt in front of him felt the brunt of his anger and frustration, exploding into a thousand pieces when he kicked it. The violence didn’t make him feel any better and it didn’t solve any of the problems that confronted him.
Weak with desire, he lusted after Nyssa and even though only a few minutes ago he’d listed most of the reasons why he couldn’t touch her, he still wanted her.
***
“Love has a way of making even the most sane person crazy,” Nyssa mumbled. She sat in the main room of the cabin, perched on the window seat, and drank champagne with the girls while Solo, his two buddies from their college study group and the Colonel were outside drinking beer.
Michael and David had always teased her. In fact, they were the first to dub her the ice maiden, but it had always been when they thought she couldn’t hear. His buddies had always known too, that she’d been crazy about Solo from the moment she first saw him. They were a good natured sort and they never meant any harm but sometimes they carried their jokes past humorous.
For a bachelor party in the far reaches of Alaska, the scene was wild, the noise unbelievable and it wouldn’t surprise her if the Colonel flew in a stripper too. Yet so far nothing like that had materialized.
“One kiss from the right man can make your toes curl,” Sarah said with a huge grin. “And whatever is good for the men has got to be twice as good for the ladies.”
The gleam in Sarah’s eyes had not diminished, not one iota. No, Sarah wouldn’t arrange a male dancer to go along with the loud obnoxious music. Sarah wouldn’t but April or Candace might.
“Amen,” April said as she refilled Nyssa glass.
“If I drink enough of this, will I be numb in the morning?” Nyssa pinched herself. Numb already. Why don’t I feel better?
“Open another gift.” Candace handed her a box, her fingernails tapping the paper on top. “You know you won’t need any of these lacy numbers for a few months.”
“I certainly hope not.”
“I think you misunderstood.”
Sarah picked up the torn paper and the bows while she hummed a tune, the wedding march. All around the room, Sarah waltzed with an imaginary partner and never missed a beat. Sarah looked vibrant, not sick at all.
Sarah was joyous. There was no other word to describe the wide grin and the twinkle in her eyes. Candace, on the other hand, appeared thoughtful. She was the thinker in the group. In fact, over champagne and caviar one night a year ago, Candace had dropped the bombshell.
She was leaving New York.
Her job as a high powered lawyer left a bitter taste in her mouth. There were too many clients with little or no money her firm stepped on. As an idealist this didn’t suit her at all. When she told the two of them she didn’t know where she would go or what she planned to do, she spoke the truth. Candace only knew she wanted out.
Candace’s announcement set the fuse. One idea led to another and although a year passed before they’d all handed in their resignation, not one of them had any regrets.
It was strange how different they were, and yet they’d become fast friends. Always would be.
April was flamboyant, fun--always loved a great joke. When April stepped in, there was sure to be more than a few laughs.
In this group, Nyssa was the serious one, measured against Candace’s quick wit and April’s good humor. They complimented each other. While on tour they had unique abilities to offer the clients.
And there was her brother. Explosive was the only way she could describe him. His drive and ambition kept the business in the black when it wavered in the early stages. There were times they would have given up their dreams--except for Jon.
“You’re terribly quiet, Harrington.” April held the lacy white camisole Sarah had given her to wear under the wedding dress. “Not brave enough for this?” she said, her leer suggestive as she waved the white lacy undergarment.
“Harrington, nervous? I don’t believe my ears. The ice maiden defies all odds,” Candace went on with a laugh. She sipped her champagne, a cocky little grin on her face. “Two minutes until closing time, Nyssa rushes through the chaos of Wall Street and outwits all the competitors. We all heard the story. My boss was one of your best clients, relied on you to buy and sell the stocks with perfect timing and you did. Never missed a call. You had an unbelievable record.”
“There were others out there better than I was,” Nyssa scoffed. “I had the jitters at the end of every work day. I’d go home with my hands shaking and my knees weak. Some of my colleagues liked the nervous tension.”
“But you didn’t?” Sarah’s words sounded very sober.
“No.”
“Hey we’ve got better things to talk about, don’t we? Like the wedding night. Since your mother’s not here, the bridesmaids get to prepare the bride. Tell her what will happen--what her groom will do,” Candace said.
“Oh, I think she must have a pretty good idea. They’ve been at this cabin--how long?” April ginned from ear-to-ear.
Nyssa clenched her fists, the silver bow she held quite mutilated before she let the decoration fall to the ground. The chatter went on around her regardless of the fact she felt no amusement in the conversation.
“I need fresh air,” she said. A few seconds later she strode outside, the air crisp and clean. She stepped off the back porch and wandered around the cabin.
Tomorrow--her wedding day. Why did she feel as if she were waiting for her execution? Only a few slow, torturous hours were left to her. She played with the engagement ring on her left hand. A wedding ring would join it soon, a symbol of deep love, of sincerity. Vows made should not be put aside.
They both took the marriage too lightly, making a mockery of a holy sacrament even though the cause was justified. It was the right thing to do. So why did it feel so wrong?
The answer came back to her with a quick and thorough jolt to her senses. Because Solo didn’t love her, never would and when she said ‘I do’ tomorrow, she would die a little inside.
The men’s voices, a gruff hum in the middle of the night, pulled her. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop but somehow she found herself next to the porch in the deep shadows, and she found she had to listen to their easy conversation and male banter.
Safari Moon Page 14
