Her Wildest Wedding Dreams. Celeste Hamilton

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      Chapter One

      Olivia Franklin knew no bride-to-be could ask for a more beautiful setting for a prenuptial bash. A breeze softened the late-May evening. The sun had slipped past the western horizon, painting the big, Texas sky in pinks and lavenders, hues echoed by the pansies and petunias edging the tiled patio. A string quartet accompanied the laughter of the guests and the tinkling of ice in fine crystal.

      Groups strolled in and out of the stucco mansion and wandered from the veranda to the buffet set up in a tent on the lawn. The movers and shakers of Austin were out in glittering force to toast the wedding of Roger Franklin’s daughter.

      That’s all she was to them. Roger Franklin’s daughter.

      Soon to be Marshall Crane’s wife.

      Olivia set her champagne flute on a table and walked, virtually unnoticed, around the periphery of the crowd. At the other end of the veranda, her father held court. Marshall stood beside him, smiling as Roger clapped him on the shoulder and grinned his approval. Tomorrow, when Marshall said “I do” to Olivia, he would become much more than just her father’s business protégé. He would be family. Roger would have exactly what he wanted. So would Marshall.

      And what about her?

      Olivia found it difficult to breathe.

      She went into the house and made her way upstairs, nodding and murmuring excuses to the few who sought to detain her. How ironic. She was supposed to be the evening’s honored guest. The bride. But she could slip away almost undetected.

      An excited bark greeted her as she closed her bedroom door. A tiny ball of fur streaked from the bed and began a dance around Olivia’s feet. She knelt and gathered her Yorkshire terrier into her arms. “Hello, Puddin’, baby. Hello, sweet girl.”

      A sniff brought Olivia to her feet, still holding the dog. In the doorway to her dressing room, a mountain of a woman stood with a stack of clothing in her arms. Mary Gunter’s broad face registered her disapproval, and she addressed Olivia with the familiarity of over twenty years as nurse, maid and surrogate mother. “What are you doing up here?”

      “No one cares if I’m at the party or not.” Olivia’s bronze silk skirt swished about her ankles as she stalked across the room. Puddin’ gave her a comforting lick on the chin.

      Mary carefully tucked clothing into one of several suitcases open on the bed. “Poor little girl,” she said in a singsong voice, just as she might have when Olivia was ten. “All alone and feeling sorry for herself.”

      The woman’s persistence in treating her like a child was a long-running battle Olivia couldn’t face right now. Pausing at one of the windows beside her bed, Olivia drew back a sheer panel. Her room overlooked the side of the house closest to the barns and stables, away from the gardens and the party, but she could still hear the music and laughter. “All of those people are here to see Father. They don’t care about me.”

      “Now, now…”

      “It’s true.” Idly Olivia watched a truck with a camper and a horse trailer turn off the main drive and down the road toward the barns.

      “You’re being silly.”

      The truck and camper drew to a stop at the stables, and with a sigh Olivia turned back to Mary. “I’m just the great man’s daughter. Not a great beauty like her mother. Not a genius like her father. Nothing too spectacular at all. A mere curiosity worth only a glance or two because I’ve been kept under lock and key most of my life.”

      “Your father has tried to protect you. You know why.” The rebuke in Mary’s tone was clear.

      Olivia bit her lip to stop her flippant retort. Of course she knew her father’s reasons. An electronics whiz kid, Roger Franklin had started his own company while still in his twenties. A millionaire by thirty-five, he married the most sought-after debutante in Austin. Fifteen years ago, when Olivia was only eight, her mother had been kidnapped. Roger had paid the ransom, but beautiful Leila Franklin was killed. Roger had never stopped blaming himself or striving to keep his and Leila’s only child safe.

      Much of the time Olivia had been able to forgive her father his overprotectiveness. Though she had often felt like an unbroken horse kicking at the door of a stall, she had done as her father had asked. She agreed to the bodyguards who accompanied her everywhere, to school, shopping, on infrequent excursions with schoolmates or dates. She lived at the family town house in Austin instead of a dormitory or apartment while she attended college. She set aside her desire to use her artistic talents and start a career. Her father wouldn’t even consider her working in his own company.

      The reason she knew few of the people at tonight’s party was because he wanted it that way. He had discouraged friendships. Olivia had found friends despite him, especially during college. However, most of those friends were busy leading lives that didn’t include guards and gates and fences. Olivia spent most of her time here at the ranch, where her father often entertained. She played hostess, but never became really close to any of their guests.

      To some people she led an idyllic life. No worries about money. A beautiful home. Gorgeous clothes. Prize-winning horses. A pool and tennis courts. A staff to see to her every need. Travel to exotic destinations whenever her father deemed it suitable.

      Olivia had tried very hard to see herself as lucky.

      When her father had first pushed her to go out with Marshall, she had been surprised. And then grateful. For with Marshall, she had actually seen a way out of her gilded cage. With a man her father trusted, surely she could begin to live her own life.

      Marshall was easy to like—good-looking, educated, a pleasant companion. He sympathized with Olivia’s desire for independence. She never once deluded herself into thinking she loved the man, but she found him kind and attentive. They shared interests in horses, in music and books. Olivia had looked forward to moving into his home when they returned from their month-long European honeymoon. She had imagined them living a pleasant, normal life. Surely, as a married woman who managed her own affairs, she would finally escape the shadows of fear which had haunted her father and enslaved her.

      But this afternoon Marshall had informed her they would be living here. With the security cameras outside. With the guard at the gate. With someone watching her every move. When she had protested, Marshall had reminded her that here she was safe.

      Safe? More like trapped.