They both knew the other reason why Ashleigh hadn’t planned to get married in the church where she and Sean had been christened and their parents had got married—because their parents were buried in the churchyard and it had been too much for Ashleigh to bear, the idea of getting married inside the church while her parents were outside.
‘It’s a nice part of the world,’ Sean said.
‘Very,’ Claire replied. She ran out of small talk at that point and spent the rest of the journey looking out of the window at the coastline, marvelling at the houses perched so precariously on the cliffsides and the incredible blueness of the sea. At the same time, all her senses seemed to be concentrating on Sean. Which was insane.
Finally the taxi dropped them at the marina in Sorrento. Claire waited with their luggage while Sean collected their tickets—and then at last they boarded the hydrofoil and were on their way to Capri.
There were large yachts moored at the marina. As they drew closer she could see the buildings lining the marina, painted in brilliant white or ice cream shades. There were more houses on the terraces banking up behind them, then the white stone peak of the island.
Once they’d docked, they took the funicular railway up to the Piazzetta, then caught a taxi from the square; she noticed that the cars were all open-topped with a stripy awning above them to shade the passengers. So much more exotic than the average convertible.
The taxi took them past more of the brilliant white buildings, in such sharp contrast to the sea and the sky. There were bougainvillea and rhododendrons everywhere, and terracotta pots full of red geraniums. Claire had always loved the richness and depth of the colours on the south European coast.
At last, they reached the hotel.
‘Thank you for arranging this,’ she said as they collected their keys. ‘And you said you’d give me your friend’s details?’ She grabbed a pen and paper, ready to take them down as Sean gave them to her. ‘Thanks. Last thing—milk, white or dark chocolate?’
‘I have no idea. You’re sending her chocolate?’
‘You’ve already sent flowers.’ She smiled. ‘I guess you can’t really send anyone confectionery, with your business being in that line.’ Admittedly Farrell’s specialised in toffee rather than chocolates, but it would still be a bit of a faux pas. ‘I’ll play it safe and send a mixture.’
‘Good plan,’ he said. ‘See you later.’
He’d made it clear that he didn’t plan to spend much time with her. Which suited Claire just fine—the less time they were in each other’s company, the less likelihood there was of another fight.
She let the bellboy help her carry her luggage to her room. She’d barely set the dress boxes on the bed in her room when there was a knock on the door.
‘Come in,’ she called with a smile, having a very good idea who it would be.
Ashleigh walked in—physically so like Sean, with the same dark eyes and dark hair, but a million times easier to be with and one of Claire’s favourite people in the whole world. Claire hugged her fiercely. ‘Hey, you beautiful bride-to-be. How are you?’
Ashleigh hugged her back. ‘I’m so glad to see you! I can’t believe you’ve been flying back and forth between England and Italy all day. That’s insane, Claire, even for you.’
Claire shrugged. ‘You’re worth it. Anyway, I’m here now.’ She held her friend at arm’s length. ‘You look gorgeous. Radiant. Just as you should be.’
‘And you look shattered,’ Ashleigh said, eyeing her closely. ‘You were up before dawn to get your first flight here.’
‘I’m fine. I, um, had a bit of a nap on the plane,’ Claire admitted.
‘Good—and you must be in dire need of something to eat and a cold drink.’
‘A cold drink would be nice—but, before we do anything else, I need you to try on these dresses so I can get the alterations started.’ Claire hugged her again. ‘I’m so sorry that it’s all gone so wrong.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Ashleigh said loyally.
That wasn’t how Sean saw it, but Claire kept that thought to herself.
Ashley tried on the dresses and looked critically at herself in the mirror. Finally, she made her decision. ‘I think this one.’
‘Good choice,’ Claire said.
Thankfully, the dress didn’t need much altering. Claire took the dressmaking kit from her luggage and pinned the dress so it was the perfect fit.
‘You’re not doing any more work on that tonight,’ Ashleigh said firmly. ‘It’s another day and a half until the wedding, and you’ve been travelling all day, so right now I want you to chill out and relax.’
‘I promise you, I plan to have an early night,’ Claire said. ‘But I still need to check the waistcoats on the men. And I would kill for a shower.’ All the travelling had made her feel tired, as well as sticky; running some cool water over her head might just help to keep her awake a bit longer.
‘Sort the men’s fitting tomorrow after breakfast,’ Ashleigh said. ‘Just have your shower, then come and meet us on the terrace when you’re done. I’ll have a long, cold drink waiting for you. With lots and lots of ice.’
‘That sounds like heaven,’ Claire said gratefully.
When Ashleigh had gone, Claire hung up all the dresses and waistcoats, and had a shower. Then she joined her best friend, her husband-to-be and their best man on the terrace. To her relief, Sean wasn’t there.
‘He had some phone calls to make,’ Ashleigh explained. ‘You know Sean. He always works crazy hours.’
Probably, Claire thought, because he’d been thrown in at the deep end when he’d had to take over the family business at the age of twenty-four after their parents had been killed in a car crash. Working crazy hours had got him through the first year, and it was a habit that had clearly stuck. ‘Well—cheers,’ she said, and raised her glass as the others echoed her toast.
* * *
Somehow Claire managed to avoid Sean for most of the next day; their only contact was just after breakfast, when she did the final fitting of the waistcoats and checked that they went perfectly with the suits and shirts. She was busy for most of the day making the last-minute alterations to Ashleigh’s dress, and when she was finished Sean was still busy making phone calls and analysing reports.
Then again, the sheer romance of the island of Capri would be wasted on a man like Sean, Claire thought. He was too focused on his work to notice the gorgeous flowers or the blueness of the sea. So much so that she’d half expected him not to join them for the surprise that she and Luke had organised for Ashleigh that evening; when he joined them in the taxi, she had to hide her amazement.
‘So where are we going?’ Ashleigh asked.
‘You’ll see. Patience, Miss Farrell,’ Claire said with a grin. Actually, it was something that she was looking forward to and dreading in equal measure, but she knew that it was something her best friend would love, so she’d force herself to get over her fears. It was just a shame that Sammy wasn’t there to join them as her flight from New York had been delayed. Which meant that, instead of being able to let Sammy defuse the awkwardness between herself and Sean, Claire was going to have to make small talk with him—because she could hardly talk only to the best man and the groom-to-be and ignore Sean completely.
Finally they arrived at the chairlift.
‘Oh, fabulous!’ Ashleigh hugged Claire and then her husband-to-be. ‘I love this place. I didn’t think we’d get time to do this.’
‘It was Claire’s idea,’ Luke said with a smile. ‘She said sunset at the top of Monte Solaro would be incredibly romantic.’
‘Especially because it’s outside the usual tourist hours and we’ll have the place all to ourselves. I can’t believe you arranged all this.’ Ashleigh looked thrilled. ‘Thank you so much, both of you.’
Twelve minu
tes, Claire reminded herself as she was helped onto the chair. It would only take twelve minutes to get from the bottom of the chairlift to the very top of the island. She wasn’t going to fall off. It was perfectly safe. She’d done this before. Thousands and thousands of tourists had done this before. The chairs were on a continuous loop, so all she had to do was let them help her jump off at the top. It would be fine.
Even so, her palms felt slightly damp and she clung on to the green central pole of her chair for dear life. Thankfully, her bag had a cross-body strap, so she didn’t have to worry about holding on to that, too. Her hands ached by the time she reached the top, but she managed to get off the chair without falling flat on her face.
Just as she and Luke had arranged, there was a table at the panoramic viewpoint overlooking the faraglioni, the three famous vertical columns of rock rising out of the sea. There was a beautiful arrangement of white flowers in the centre of the table, and white ribbons on the wicker chairs. When they sat down, the waiter brought over a bottle of chilled Prosecco and canapés.
‘Cheers. To Ashleigh and Luke—just to say how much we love you,’ Claire said, lifting her glass, and the others echoed the toast.
‘I really can’t believe you did this.’ Ashleigh was beaming, and Claire’s heart swelled. The night before the wedding, when Ashleigh should’ve been happily fussed over by her mum...Claire had wanted to take her best friend’s mind off what she was missing, and she and Luke had talked over the options. The scary one had definitely been the best decision.
‘It wasn’t just me. It was Luke as well,’ Claire said, wanting to be fair. ‘It’s just a shame Sammy couldn’t make it.’
‘She’ll be here tomorrow,’ Tom said confidently.
‘You know, some brides actually get married up here,’ Ashleigh said. ‘Obviously they’re not going to walk for an hour uphill in a wedding dress and high heels, so they ride on the chairlift. I’ve seen photographs where the bride carried her shoes in one hand and her bouquet in the other.’
‘And I suppose Claire showed them to you,’ Sean said.
Claire didn’t rise to the bait, but she wished she hadn’t already done the final fitting of his waistcoat, because otherwise she would’ve had great pleasure in being totally unprofessional and sticking pins into him.
‘No,’ Ashleigh said. ‘Actually, she talked me out of it.’
‘Because the design of your dress means you wouldn’t fit in the seat properly and I didn’t want your dress all creased in the photographs,’ Claire said with a smile.
Ashleigh laughed. ‘More like because you wouldn’t be able to hang on to your shoes and your flowers and cling on to the central bar for dear life all at the same time.’
Claire laughed back. ‘OK, so I’m a wuss about heights—but I would’ve done it if that’s what you’d really wanted, Ash. Because it’s your day, and what you want is what’s important.’ Her words were directed at her best friend, but she looked straight into Sean’s eyes, making it very clear that she meant every word.
He had the grace to flush.
It looked as if he’d got the message, then. Ashleigh came first and they’d put their differences aside for her sake.
Luke and Tom chatted easily, covering up the fact that Claire and Sean were barely speaking to each other. And gradually Claire relaxed, letting herself enjoy the incredibly romantic setting. They watched as the sun began to set over the sea; mist rose around the distant islands as the sky became striped with yellow and pink and purple, making them seem mysterious and otherworldly.
Claire took a few shots with her camera; she knew they wouldn’t be anything near as good as Sammy’s photographs, but it would at least be a nice memory. She glanced at Sean; he looked as if he was lost in thought, staring out at the sunset. Before she quite realised what she was doing, she took the snap.
Later that evening, back in her hotel room, she reviewed her photographs. There were some gorgeous shots of the sunset and the sea, of Ashleigh and Luke and Tom. But the picture she couldn’t get out of her head was the impulsive one she’d taken of Sean. If they’d never met before, if there were no history of sniping and backbiting between them, she would’ve said he was the most attractive man she’d ever met and she would’ve been seriously tempted to get together with him.
But.
She’d known Sean for years, he was far from an easy man, and she really didn’t need any complications in her life right now.
‘Too much Prosecco addling your brain, Claire Stewart,’ she told herself with a wry smile. ‘Tomorrow, you’re on sparkling water.’
Tomorrow.
Ashleigh’s wedding day.
And please, please, let it be perfect.
CHAPTER THREE
‘MISS STEWART?’ THE woman from the airline introduced herself swiftly on the phone. ‘I’m very pleased to say we’ve found the dress box that went missing.’
It took a moment for it to sink in. They’d actually found Ashleigh’s original dress?
‘That’s fantastic,’ Claire said. She glanced at her watch. Ashleigh’s wedding wasn’t until four o’clock. Which meant she had enough time to get the hydrofoil across to Sorrento and then a taxi to the airport to collect the dress, and she’d be back in time to get the dress ready while Ashleigh was having her hair and make-up done. Thankfully, she’d brought her portable steam presser with her in her luggage, so although the dress would be quite badly creased by now, she’d be able to fix it. ‘Thank you very much. I’ll be with you as soon as possible.’
‘And if you could bring some identification with you, it would be helpful,’ the airline assistant added.
‘I’ll bring my passport,’ Claire said. Even before she’d said goodbye and ended the call, she was unlocking the safe in her wardrobe and taking her passport out.
When she went to tell Ashleigh the good news, Sean was there.
‘It’d be quicker to get the dress couriered here,’ he said.
‘I’ve already lost the dress once. If you think I’m taking the risk of that happening again...’ Claire shook her head. ‘No chance.’
It also meant she had a bulletproof excuse to avoid Sean for the next few hours. Though that was slightly beside the point. She kissed Ashleigh’s cheek. ‘I’ll text you when I’ve picked it up and I’m on my way back. But I’ll be back well before it’s time to have our hair and make-up done, I promise.’
Ashleigh hugged her back. ‘I know. And thanks, Claire.’
‘Hey. That’s what best friends are for,’ she said with a smile.
When Claire collected the dress, the box was in perfect condition, so she didn’t have to worry that the contents had been damaged in any way. It didn’t matter any more where the dress had been; the important thing was that she had it now, and Ashleigh would wear the dress of her dreams on her wedding day.
‘Miss Stewart? Before you go,’ the airline assistant said, ‘I have a message for you. You have transport back to Capri. Would you mind coming this way?’
‘Why?’ Claire asked, mystified. She’d planned to get another taxi back to Sorrento, and then the hydrofoil across to Capri.
Before the airline assistant could answer, Claire’s phone pinged with a message. ‘Sorry, would you mind if I check this?’ she asked, just in case it was Ashleigh.
To her surprise, the message was from Sean.
Transport arranged. Don’t argue. Ashleigh worrying. Need to save time.
Sean had arranged transport for her? She swallowed hard. She knew Sean had done this for his sister’s sake, not for hers, but it was still such a nice thing to do.
And the transport wasn’t a taxi back to Sorrento. It was a helicopter. And the pilot told her that the flight from Naples to Capri took less time than the hydrofoil from Sorrento to Capri, so Sean had saved her the time of the taxi j
ourney on top of that.
She texted back swiftly. Thank you. Tell her the dress is absolutely fine. Let me know how much I owe you for the transport. She knew Sean’s opinion of her was already low and she was absolutely not going to let him think she was a freeloader, on top of whatever else he thought about her. She’d always paid her own way.
A text came back from him.
Will tell her. Transport on me.
Oh, no, it wasn’t. Dress my responsibility, so *I* will pay. Not negotiable, she typed back pointedly. No way was she going to be in debt to Sean.
She’d half expected a taxi to meet her at the helipad, but Sean was in the reception area, waiting for her. He was wearing formal dark trousers and a white shirt—Claire didn’t think he actually owned a pair of jeans—but for once he wasn’t wearing a tie. His concession to casual dress, perhaps.
He looked gorgeous.
And he was totally off limits. She really needed to get a grip. Like now.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked.
‘Transport,’ he said, gesturing to an open-topped sports car in the car park.
She didn’t have much choice other than to accept. ‘Thank you.’ She looked at him. ‘Is Ash OK?’
‘She’s fine,’ he reassured her.
‘Good.’
‘And I owe you an apology.’
Claire frowned, surprised. Sean was apologising to her? ‘For what?’
‘Sniping at you last night—assuming that you’d given Ashleigh that crazy idea of getting married at the top of the mountain and going up by chairlift.’
‘Given that I’m scared of heights,’ she said dryly, ‘I was quite happy to talk her out of that one on the grounds of dress practicalities.’
‘But you went up on the chairlift last night.’
She shrugged. ‘Luke and I wanted to distract her and we thought that would be a good way.’
‘Yeah.’
She looked at him. He masked his feelings quickly, but she’d seen the flash of pain in his eyes. On impulse, she laid her hand on his arm. ‘It must be hard for you, too.’
Harlequin Romance April 2015 Box Set Page 58
