Dream Wedding

by Helen Brooks

  'She is?' The relief on her brother's face would have been funny in any other circumstances.

  'You'd better believe it,' Miriam said drily. 'So don't worry, big brother; the last person Reece Vance would go for is a little nobody like me. Satisfied?'

  'I didn't think-—' Mitch stopped abruptly at her raised eyebrows and grinned shamefacedly. 'Well, maybe I did at that. You're quite a looker yourself, Mim.'

  'Pretty average on the whole.' She really couldn't continue this conversation without screaming and breaking something, Miriam thought tightly as her overstretched nerves twanged warningly. 'I think I'll get the rest of these recipes planned out at home after a long, hot bath. Can you give me a lift?'

  'Sure thing.' Mitch gathered up some papers from his desk and stuffed them untidily into his briefcase. 'I'll do the same, I think. Sure you don't want to come back and have Mum spoil you a bit tonight?'

  'Quite sure.' Any more fussing and she'd hit someone! 'I'm going to have a bath followed by beans on toast and then get on with some work.' She would never have thought that anything could sound so dull, she thought bleakly. 'Tell Mum I'll phone her later.'

  And much later, as she lay in the comfortable darkness of her little bedsit with sleep a million miles away, she found herself thinking the same thought again as she reviewed her life to date.

  It was all work and no play, she thought flatly, and had been for some years, but that had never worried her before, so why now? She was more than content with her career, she loved her little home, she had plenty of good friends… So what was wrong suddenly? She twisted irritably in the warmth of the bed and pulled the pillow over her head in an effort to stop her racing thoughts.

  That nasty little incident with Gregory's hired thugs had unnerved her, that's all, she thought firmly. Brought the darker side of life into sharp focus for a while. By tomorrow she would be her happy-go-lucky self again, ready for anything. She would. She gritted her teeth and applied her considerable will-power to emptying her mind ready for sleep. Reece Vance meant nothing to her. Absolutely nothing, she repeated to herself firmly, before falling promptly to sleep.

  It was pouring with rain when she drew up outside Reece's house at exactly eleven o'clock, on Saturday morning, the icy droplets mixed with small, chilled flakes of snow. The sky was heavy and laden, the very air grey with a gloomy dark rawness that seeped into every nook and crevice, but as Miriam ran quickly up the steps to the house, red hair glowing and face alive with vitality, she seemed the very essence of spring to the tall dark man watching her from one of the windows.

  She had dressed carefully that morning in a dark red jumper that exactly matched the unusual shade of her hair, teaming it with a full, long charcoal-grey skirt in thick wool with matching boots. Swinging gold loops in her tiny ears and a determined smile on her face completed the picture, and now, as she shrugged her heavy coat off and followed the small maid into the drawing room, she turned the smile up to full wattage when she saw Reece and a tall dark woman sitting having coffee. Reece Vance intimidate her? Never.

  'I see you managed to get here in that rust-bucket.' Reece glanced across at her without a glimmer of a smile on his harsh face. 'Are you sure it's safe to drive, incidentally?'

  'Reece!' His sister's shocked exclamation of protest was lost as Miriam slanted her eyes and prepared to do battle, her apprehension at facing him again after that disastrous afternoon vanishing in a puff of sheer anger.

  'Of course,' she answered icily, her face straightening as she came to a halt in the middle of the room, hands on hips. 'It may look antiquated but it more than serves its purpose. We can't all drive darn great Bentleys,' she added tightly before she could stop herself.

  'Pity,' he drawled slowly. 'For other road-users when you're about, that is… Now, Barbara, this is Miriam; Miriam meet my sister.'

  'Hi.' The other woman had risen and now extended a slim hand to Miriam, her smile warm and friendly. 'Don't take any notice of Reece, will you? His bark has always been worse than his bite.'

  'Really?' Miriam smiled back before glancing at Reece, her face adequately expressing all she didn't say. 'I can't say either action particularly appeals.'

  Barbara was very like her handsome twin, with the same thick dark hair and startling silver-grey eyes, but the feminine genes had softened and mellowed Reece's hard male features into something quite beautiful in his sister, Miriam reflected silently as the two women shook hands.

  'He was a difficult child and a difficult teenager and is now a supremely difficult man,' Barbara continued cheerfully with a sidelong glance at her brother, who was viewing the two women silently with cool, narrowed eyes, his face sardonic. 'Impossible to deal with.'

  'When you've quite finished…' Reece indicated for Miriam to be seated as he fixed his sister with a steely glance that seemed to have no effect at all. 'We're here to finalise the details of your wedding, not to discuss my attributes—or lack of them,' he added drily. 'Now, Miriam, coffee?'

  'Thank you.' Now that the rage was ebbing she was horrified at the effect he was having on her equilibrium but, dressed as he was in black denims and a black silk shirt, she was having a job to concentrate on anything other than her hormones. She forced herself to turn to Barbara with a shaky smile. 'Not long to wait until the big day.'

  'Don't remind me.' The other woman groaned softly. 'I couldn't believe it when Reece phoned and told me the other catering firm were in police custody! I almost considered taking their case so I could get them out on bail in time for my wedding.' She grinned ruefully. 'And then poor Mrs Goode breaking her ankle.'

  'Miriam?' As Reece handed her the coffee she nodded her thanks, glancing at him for the merest moment, but it was enough to set her heart pounding. He was too attractive for comfort and, this close, all she could think about was how it had felt when he'd kissed her. And the feel of that big, hard body pressed into hers. And the smell of him. And—

  'I'll leave you two to it.' He picked up his own cup and walked lazily across the room, his body moving with relaxed, easy power. 'I'll be in my study, if you want me.'

  'We won't.' Barbara softened her words with a warm smile as he turned and raised sardonic eyebrows before leaving the room. 'Now, Miriam, do you mind if I see what you've got planned?' she asked eagerly as she settled down in her chair, her eyes bright with interest.

  The next half-hour sped by in a whirl of lists and notes, but at the end of it the two women were chatting like old friends. 'You've done absolute wonders at such short notice,' Barbara sighed gratefully as Miriam packed away the last of the papers and clicked her briefcase shut. 'I wouldn't have a clue where to start with anything remotely domestic, I'm afraid.'

  She wrinkled her small, pert nose at Miriam, her face candid. 'I don't know where all my nest-making and womanly instincts went in that area, but I rather think another little girl baby ended up with a double dose when I was born! I can just about manage to boil an egg, but I've ruined three or four saucepans doing that simple task because I always forget and let the water boil dry— normally because I've got my nose stuck in a law book or something,' she added ruefully. 'I'm hopeless.'

  'So you and your future husband will eat out of tins or at the local restaurant?' Miriam said laughingly. The other woman's candour was infectious.

  'Oh, there's no problem in that direction,' Barbara answered happily. 'Craig's the most marvellous cook. Wait till you see him, Miriam! He's six foot four and the most gorgeous thing on two legs and definitely all male.' Her voice lowered suggestively as she winked saucily. 'But he can whip up a meal for four out of nothing and restore order to the disgusting clutter I call a home within minutes. We've already decided I'll be the one who earns the money and he'll stay home with the kids—when they arrive, of course,' she added longingly. 'I've never really wanted a family before, but the minute I met Craig I wanted his baby so bad I almost propositioned him then and there!'

  She gazed dreamily at Miriam, looking most unlawyerlike. 'I've been
searching for this man all my life without knowing it and it just amazes me he feels the same. We're like two halves that fit into a perfect whole.' The slight throb in the other woman's voice told Miriam that she was absolutely genuine. 'I'd made up my mind when I was still at school that I was going to be a career woman and that marriage was definitely out of the question, and then Craig came into my life and that was that.' She sighed happily. 'He's just gorgeous.'

  'Lucky old you.' Miriam wondered how to word what she wanted to say and spoke carefully. 'And Reece knows how you feel about each other?'

  'Reece?' Barbara sat straight and wrinkled her nose irritably. 'Oh, my brother is a typical orthodox mate. I can't talk to him, Miriam, I really can't. I know he disapproves of Craig—not so much by what he has said but more by what he hasn't! He hasn't even met him properly yet, just once at a crowded party, where everyone had had too much to drink and everything went wrong.'

  'Craig had come across from Australia that day after visiting his parents, and had rushed to the party from the airport because I wanted him to. He had the most awful jet lag, poor lamb, and went to sleep in a corner of the sofa in spite of the noise and chaos. Some tarty blonde draped herself all over him—she was out for the count on cider—and Reece arrived at that moment and got totally the wrong impression.'

  'I see.' Miriam looked the other woman straight in the eyes. 'Don't you think it'd put Reece's mind at rest if you explained all that?'

  'I shouldn't have to.' Suddenly the resemblance between brother and sister was striking as Barbara's mouth set in a hard, stubborn line. 'He should trust my choice; he knows I'm no fool.' She shook her head testily. 'And I'm thirty-five years old, for crying out loud! I don't have to explain everything to my brother, do I?'

  'No, of course not,' Miriam agreed soothingly. 'But he loves you—'

  'I know.' Barbara nodded despondently. 'And I love him too. He's the only person in the world who has ever really cared a jot about me, until I met Craig; I think he kept me sane when I was little—' She suddenly seemed to realise that she had said more than she'd intended and shut her mouth with a little snap, the same cool, aloof mask that habitually clothed her brother's face settling over Barbara's like a veil.

  Miriam opened her mouth to reassure Reece's sister that she understood at the same time as the door opened and Reece stood framed in the doorway, his silver eyes narrowing immediately on the two women's faces.

  'Finished?' he asked abruptly.

  'Just,' Barbara answered quickly as she stood up, smoothing her beautifully cut dress over her slim hips. 'You've found an absolute life-saver here, you know.'

  'Yes, I do.' There was something in the deep male voice that caught Miriam's attention, but then he continued in the usual cool, bland tone and she told herself that she must have imagined the husky warmth that she thought she had detected.

  'I wondered if you'd like to join us for lunch, Miriam?' he asked expressionlessly as he watched her rise to her feet just as the telephone began to ring on the table at Barbara's side. His sister reached across and listened to the voice on the other end as Miriam stared at Reece in surprise, the sudden invitation numbing her mind, and then Barbara stretched out her arm to her brother, the receiver dangling between her fingertips.

  'Sharon,' she said briefly. 'For you.' Her fine eyebrows rose cynically as Reece took the telephone from her with an irritated frown.

  'Hello, Sharon.' Reece's voice was cool. 'What can I do for you?'

  Now there's a silly question, Miriam thought with painful humour as she watched his hard profile. She knew exactly what the beautiful blonde would like Reece to do for her!

  'Yes, seven-thirty for eight; you did mention it,' Reece said quietly into the phone. 'And would you tell your father I shall be bringing the reports we were looking at in the week? They're all complete now,' he continued as Barbara raised wicked eyebrows at Miriam.

  'Have you met our sweet little Sharon yet?' she whispered sarcastically as she drew Miriam to one side.

  'Yes,' Miriam responded cautiously. Reece's sister was not at all what she had expected. 'Last week, actually.'

  'Poisonous little flower, isn't she?' Barbara drawled matter-of-factly, without a shied of malice in her voice. 'I don't think I know of one woman under the age of sixty who gets on with her, she is so openly hostile to her own sex.'

  She sighed heavily as she glanced across at her brother. 'But of course the men all love her; they really don't seem to be able to see through her at all. She loathes me,' she added with great satisfaction. 'I've always taken it as an enormous compliment. I can't think of a worse indictment than to have Sharon's approval.'

  'I understand the two families are close,' Miriam said diplomatically, without venturing an opinion on Sharon herself. It was one thing for Reece's sister to dislike his girlfriend but quite another for Ins temporary employee to criticise his choice in women.

  'Well, the two sets of parents certainly were,' Barbara replied quietly. 'But Reece and I were never at home when we were children. Since our parents died Reece has had more to do with Sharon's father on a business level and I think they get on quite well. Sharon is ten years younger than us so it's only been in the last few years she's really made her presence known.' She glanced at her brother as he wound up the call, his voice terse and his face remote. 'I think she gets on Reece's nerves half the time.'

  What about the other half? Miriam thought miserably as she pictured the blonde's beautiful face and figure, hoping that her thoughts didn't show on her face as Reece turned abruptly to join them. 'Well?' He looked straight at Miriam. 'Are you joining us for lunch?'

  The image of Sharon was suddenly so real that Miriam could have reached out and touched her and she shook her head quickly, keeping her voice cool but pleasant. 'No, thanks, but it's kind of you to ask. My mother is expecting me.'

  'No problem.' The silver-grey eyes were narrowed on her face, as though they wanted to read her mind, and it was with a real effort of will that she broke the piercing gaze, turning and walking to the door as she made her goodbyes to Barbara.

  Several mortifying minutes later, when she had tried all the tricks she knew to start the car and was peering despondently under the bonnet, Reece appeared at her side, his face a study in blankness.' 'Antiquated' was the word you used, I think?' he drawled lazily as his head joined hers over the car's insides.

  She might have known that he would rub it in, she thought furiously, longing to give the side of the car a massive kick. How could it do this to her? Here, of all places? There was no justice. 'It doesn't like wet weather,' she said tightly as she concentrated on peering at the engine in the murky light, vitally aware of the big dark body neat to her, clothed in a black leather jacket that sat on the broad shoulders in a manner guaranteed to mate any red-blooded female take a second look.

  'Who does?' He stood back a pace, folding his arms as he stared at her in the icy drizzle. 'You're getting very wet,' he added conversationally.

  'I know.' She glared at him in exasperation. If he hadn't got anything better to say he could clear off back indoors, she thought angrily.

  'Do you know how that works?' he asked softly after a long, tense moment when she just knew that he had read her mind. The knowledge was there in the dark glitter of his narrowed eyes and straight, hard set to his mouth.

  'Usually.' She straightened as a trickle of very cold water dripped stealthily down the space between her coat and neck and willed herself not to shudder. 'I took a course in car maintenance a couple of years ago.'

  'Did you now?' She had seen the flash of surprise in his grey eyes before he could hide it and felt enormously pleased that she had managed to pierce that control just a little.

  'Yes.' She smiled sunnily, knowing that it would annoy him. 'It seemed like a good idea at the time and has got me out of quite a few difficulties with this old girl.' She tapped the side of the car gently. 'But not this time, I'm afraid. Could I use your—?'

  'I'll give you a lif
t.' He had interrupted her before she could finish and she kept the smile in place with sheer determination.

  'Phone?' she continued pointedly. 'I can get a taxi and arrange for this to be collected—'

  'No need.' He'd done it again, she thought tightly. 'I'll give you a lift to wherever you're going—Barbara and I were just leaving anyway—and arrange for someone to look at the car and drive it to your house some time tomorrow. OK?'

  'But garages don't work on a Sunday,' she said quickly, 'and I can sort it out myself. There's really no need for you to bother about it.'

  'No bother.' A glimmer of a smile touched the hard face for a second. 'And they will work on a Sunday if I want them to.' The quirk to his mouth disappeared as he moved closer, looking down at her as the droplets of rain sat in her silky red hair like tiny diamonds. 'Why don't you like me?' he asked expressionlessly. 'Do I frighten you?'

  She couldn't answer, the pounding of her heart and sudden dryness in her throat rendering her dumb as she looked up into the dark, cool face. He seemed very big and very powerful as he leached out and drew her, almost casually, into his arms, his chin resting on the top of her head as he nuzzled her wet hair with his chin.

  'I should imagine you are the type of person who can get on with anyone,' he said thoughtfully over her head. 'But with me there is a definite withdrawal every time I so much as look at you. Why?'

  His arms tightened a fraction and she forced herself to stand absolutely still as the intoxicating smell of expensive aftershave on clean male skin set her pulse racing like an express train. Her senses were alive as they had never been before, her nerves aware of the lean male body in a way that was positively wanton, and she was terrified that he would sense her response—sense it and capitalise on it.