Subtle Revenge. Carole Mortimer

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СКАЧАТЬ wish I hadn’t bothered!’ she sighed.

      ‘It’s a bit chaotic, isn’t it?’ Lori laughed.

      ‘Don’t underestimate, Lori, it’s bedlam! I wish now that we’d eloped!’

      Lori laughed lightly. ‘I’m sure every bride wishes the same thing before the wedding. But just wait until you see the photographs. It will be something to remember the rest of your life.’

      ‘Mum keeps saying the same thing,’ Nikki grimaced. ‘I just wish it were all over.’

      ‘Enjoy it,’ Lori encouraged gently. ‘It’s a special day in your life, Nikki. Savour every minute of it.’

      Her friend gave her a strange look, shrugging as some of the tension left her. ‘You’re right,’ she nodded. ‘This is my wedding day to Paul, why worry about the fact that Mum is having hysterics in the kitchen, Dad is locked in his study causing the hysterics, and the flowers haven’t arrived!’

      ‘Ah, now, the latter I can help you with,’ Lori smiled. ‘I’ve just seen the van from the florists pull up outside.’

      Nikki rushed to join her at the window. ‘Thank heavens for that!’ she sighed her relief. ‘That’s one crisis over. Do you think Paul’s buttonhole arrived safely?’ she added worriedly.

      ‘It was coming from the same florist, wasn’t it?’ Lori waited for her friend’s nod of confirmation. ‘Then I’ll just go down and ask the lady if she went to Paul’s first.’

      ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ Nikki said ruefully.

      Lori gave a happy laugh at her friend’s almost dazed expression. ‘Because you’re too excited to think of anything but being Paul’s wife.’

      ‘Yes,’ Nikki gave a dreamy smile. ‘I can’t tell you how much I love him, how I’m longing to be married to him.’ She blushed prettily. ‘We’ve waited, you know, Lori.’

      ‘I do know.’ Lori squeezed her friend’s hand. ‘And that’s also what makes today so special. The permissive society and equal rights in bed for women are okay, but there’s nothing quite like a virginal bride.’

      ‘Will you be——’ Nikki broke off in embarrassment. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that.’

      ‘That’s all right,’ Lori dismissed huskily. ‘I am, and I will be—if I ever find the right man.’

      ‘Oh, you will,’ her friend said with certainty. ‘You’re too beautiful for the male population to ignore. I’m just glad Paul goes for black hair instead of redheads!’

      Lori gave a throaty laugh. ‘I’d better go and check with the florist before she leaves.’

      She found the middle-aged lady in the kitchen helping Mrs Dean drown her sorrows in a glass of sherry. Lori got confirmation about Paul’s buttonhole before leaving them to it.

      ‘I think your mother has decided to get drunk and let everyone take their chances,’ she told Nikki laughingly when she got back upstairs.

      ‘That’s all I need!’ her friend groaned. ‘And I thought she would be the calm one.’

      ‘Mothers aren’t supposed to be calm on their daughter’s wedding day, they’re supposed to cry a lot,’ Lori teased. ‘Now isn’t it time you changed into your dress? You don’t want to be cruel and keep Paul waiting at the church.’

      ‘It’s getting awfully late,’ Nikki frowned. ‘I wonder where Sally is?’

      ‘Now don’t start panicking about Sally,’ Lori instructed firmly. ‘She’ll be here, even if she has to leave with her hair still wet.’

      ‘That’s what I’m afraid of!’

      ‘Well, don’t. You’ll see, it will all work out.’

      And it did. Mr Dean finally decided to come out of the study and change into his suit, Mrs Dean put on the pretty flowered suit she was to wear, and Sally arrived in good time to help Nikki change.

      ‘You look beautiful!’ Lori kissed the glowing bride warmly on the cheek, before they went downstairs to the cars waiting to take them to the church.

      ‘We’ll see you in a few minutes,’ Sally squeezed Nikki’s hand as Mr Dean came into the room.

      The two bridesmaids were wearing identical pale green dresses, with small puff sleeves, a fitted bodice, gathered waist and flowing skirt to the floor, the tiny white roses in their hair matching the small posies they carried.

      ‘I love weddings,’ Sally grinned as they drove to the nearby church in the white Rolls-Royce.

      ‘This one is certainly very beautiful,’ Lori nodded, her hair looking a deeper red against the pale green gown.

      ‘Maybe it will prompt Dave to propose,’ the other girl said wistfully of the man she had been seeing the last two months.

      Lori gave her a sharp look. ‘Do you think he might?’

      ‘No,’ Sally laughed. ‘But I live in hope.’

      It was a beautifully warm day, the sun shining brightly, birds singing in the nearby trees. Lori felt herself get caught up in the occasion despite herself, and when Nikki arrived at the church on her father’s arm she could have cried at the other girl’s obvious happiness.

      As was usual in churches it felt cold once they were inside, and Lori repressed a shiver as she and Sally followed Nikki and her father down the aisle, although the church looked completely different from when they had come here for the rehearsal earlier in the week. White flowers decorated the altar and sides of the church, and the whole place had a lighter, happier appearance.

      Lori took Nikki’s bouquet as the service began, listening to the beauty of the words of the service. And yet something else penetrated the subconscious of her mind, a prickling sensation down her spine, something that made her feel uncomfortable. She began to slowly look about her, sensing that someone was watching her. Everyone she looked at seemed intent on the bride and groom, or the service book in front of them. And yet she still sensed that there were eyes on her, still felt that uncomfortable sensation down her spine.

      And then she saw him!

      She looked hastily away again, and yet the man’s face stayed imprinted in her brain. He was seated next to Mrs Hammond, a tall dark man with piercing grey eyes, an arrogant slash of a nose, lean cheekbones, a thinned mouth, his powerful physique looking magnificient in the grey morning suit, the shirt snowy white, a man of possibly thirty-eight, thirty-nine years of age.

      She glanced back at him, finding those curiously light grey eyes still on her—and making no pretence of doing anything else. At twenty-four she was confident enough of her own attraction not to blush, meeting that arrogant gaze squarely for several seconds before slowly turning away. Those few seconds had given her chance to notice several other things about the man, like the sprinkling of grey in the darkness of his hair at his temples, the hardness of the grey eyes, the cynical twist to that almost sensual mouth.

      His mouth quirked mockingly as she began to turn away, and СКАЧАТЬ