How To Romance A Runaway Bride. Teri Wilson

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       Chapter Two

      Zander crossed his arms and told himself he’d done absolutely nothing wrong, despite the glare his mother was currently aiming at him from across the ballroom. He’d probably get an earful from her later on. Emily Wilde was no shrinking violet. She was a woman with strong opinions and a tendency to meddle, and now that Zander’s younger sister was happily engaged as well as dancing with a major ballet company, Emily no longer felt the need to hover over Tessa. The family matriarch had moved on to Zander’s personal life instead.

      Oh, joy.

      She wanted him married. She wanted grandchildren, preferably a boy, who could ensure that the Wilde family name and legacy would live on long after she was gone. Thus she made Zander curse his status as the only male offspring on a regular basis. He’d just as soon let some other guy get married and carry on the family name. Except there wasn’t another guy. Just him, a fact that was all the more painfully obvious now that he had a bride standing in front of him.

       I won’t marry you, Allegra. Not now. Not ever.

      Granted, it might have sounded a bit harsh, but he’d only said what needed to be said, plain and simple. Emily would no doubt accuse him of causing a scene, which was absurd. If anyone was causing a scene, it was Allegra.

      She’d crashed his birthday party. In a wedding gown. Had she honestly expected him to just run off into the sunset and marry her? Had she gone insane since she’d left town?

      She peered up at him, lush lips pressed together and a cute little wrinkle in her forehead. She didn’t look crazy. She looked confused. Confused and undeniably gorgeous. Looking into her luminous blue eyes made Zander’s chest hurt for some strange reason. He focused once again on the sparkling chandelier hanging over her head. That dress...those eyes—it was all too much.

      “Marry me?” Her voice rang with incredulity. And if Zander wasn’t mistaken, a fair amount of amusement.

      He lifted an eyebrow. You’re the one in a wedding dress, sweetheart.

      “You can’t be serious,” she said, deadpan.

      Zander didn’t say a word, but simply held her gaze. He’d said his piece. There was no way he’d be held to a silly promise he’d made as a kid. Now she just needed to go back to wherever she’d come from before she embarrassed herself further.

      Allegra’s gaze narrowed, as if she was trying to peer inside his head. Then her pretty pink lips curved into a grin. She was smiling? Now?

      Maybe she really was unstable. The poor thing.

      Zander reached for her hand. A mistake. A huge one. A long time ago, he’d read something in a magazine article that said a simple touch could possess memory, a notion he’d dismissed as sentimental nonsense. Memories lived in the realm of the mind. They were made up of thoughts, images and unflinching emotions. How could a person’s flesh be capable of such complexities?

      But the moment his fingertips connected with Allegra’s, something strange happened. His limbs felt looser all of a sudden, and his spirit lifted. He remembered the soaring sensation of holding Allegra in his arms and twirling across the dance floor. He remembered ice-skating in Central Park, a lacy veil of snow in Allegra’s hair and his heart pounding hard in a darkened museum. He felt like a kid again. It was like being knocked flat by a New York blizzard.

      He dropped her hand and recrossed his arms. Revisiting the past had no place on his current agenda. She needed help. Obviously. He should call someone, but who? She no longer had any family in New York.

      Did she have any family left at all? Anywhere?

      “Look, Allegra—” he began.

      She cut him off. “You seriously think I’m here because I want to marry you?”

      She let out a giggle, then appeared to make a feeble attempt to keep her mouth shut. It was no use. Another giggle escaped, louder this time, until she was quite literally laughing in his face.

      Allegra’s laugh hadn’t changed a bit. Once upon a time, it had been one of Zander’s favorite sounds. Not anymore. “You find the idea of marrying me amusing, do you?”

      “Actually...” She cleared her throat and managed to collect herself. For the most part. There was still far too much snickering going on for his taste. “I do.”

      “‘I do.’” Zander lifted an eyebrow. “You even sound like a bride.”

      That managed to stop her snickering. “Oh, get over yourself. I haven’t even seen you in thirteen years.”

      Actually, it was closer to fourteen. Not that Zander was counting. He clenched his jaw to keep himself from opening his mouth and saying it out loud.

      Allegra’s smile faded. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You actually think I came here after all this time to drag you to the altar. Tell me, Mr. Suit, what kind of evidence do you have to support this delusion?”

       Mr. Suit.

      Her voice dripped with disdain. Zander probably should have expected that. He hadn’t. Then again, everything about this insane night was coming out of left field. Happy birthday to me.

      “You mean other than your attire?” He ordered himself not to look at the dress again. But then he fixed his gaze on the delicate row of tiny shimmering crystals that ran along the curves of her shoulders.

      “Circumstantial evidence,” she said, sounding like the lawyer’s daughter she’d been. Then she shrugged, and those glittering crystals dazzled beneath the soft light of the chandelier. “You’re going to have to do better than that. Who says what I’m wearing has anything to do with you?”

      “We did. You and me. Fourteen years ago.”

      He waited for her expression to betray her resistance, for a hint of what had transpired between them so long ago to show on her porcelain face. They’d loved one another once. Not romantic love, but something quite different. Something deeper.

      Or so he’d thought.

      She blinked but kept on looking at him like he was the one who was acting nuts. “I don’t know what in the world you’re talking about.”

      He had to give her credit. She was doing a good job of feigning innocence. A great job, actually.

      Zander took a step closer. He didn’t want to humiliate her in front of Manhattan’s glittering elite. He just wanted to put a stop to things once and for all. If he was being honest, he also wanted her to leave. The sooner the better.

      He’d grown accustomed to life without her. Things were simpler now. Rational. Predictable. СКАЧАТЬ