One Winter Wedding. Barbara Hannay

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СКАЧАТЬ her. Holding her back from the job she had to do.

      The family is counting on you, Kelsey. Her aunt’s voice rang in her mind. You know what can happen when a woman falls for the wrong kind of man.

      Kelsey hadn’t needed Aunt Charlene’s reminder. She had her mother as an example. Olivia Wilson had thrown away everything for a man who left her with nothing. Olivia had been eighteen when she met Donnie Mardell—Kelsey’s father, though she never thought of him in those terms. Donnie had promised Olivia a love of a lifetime, as well as freedom from her too-strict parents, and she fell for every word. When her father made her choose between Donnie and her family, Olivia chose Donnie. But while Olivia may have had stars in her eyes, Donnie had dollar signs in his. When the Wilsons offered him money to leave town, he took it without a glance back at his girlfriend or unborn child.

      But Kelsey’s cousin Emily hadn’t fallen for the wrong man. She was engaged to Todd Dunworthy. The only son of a wealthy Chicago family, he’d come to Scottsdale to start his own company and add to his already considerable fortune. Todd was handsome, charming, and Charlene couldn’t have handpicked a better son-in-law.

      Kelsey had worked nonstop for the past two months to put together the perfect wedding. The dress, the flowers, the music, the cake, everything wove together like the hand-stitched Irish lace in Emily’s veil. But Kelsey knew how delicate that lace was. One wrong pull, and it could all fall apart.

      She refused to let that happen.

      She needed this wedding to be amazing. She’d staked her reputation on the success of the ceremony, certain her cousin’s wedding was the spotlight that would make her business shine. She’d been so sure of that she’d put most of her savings into a down payment for a small shop in Glendale. Kelsey had felt confident making the huge step. After all, her aunt and uncle were wealthy, influential people with wealthy, influential friends. Once the guests saw the job she’d done, Weddings Amour would flourish.

      Even more important, her aunt and uncle would see that she, too, could succeed, that she was more than the poor relation they’d taken into their home. She’d been sixteen when her mother died, sixteen when Olivia finally admitted she was not an only child as she’d led Kelsey to believe. Olivia had an older brother, a sister-in-law and two nieces…total strangers who became Kelsey’s only family.

      Hold your head high, Olivia had whispered to Kelsey only days before passing away. Her face pale and gaunt, her blond hair long gone, her mother’s eyes still blazed with the pride that empowered her to walk away from her family when she’d been pregnant at eighteen. You may not have been raised as one of the wealthy Wilsons, but you’re going to show them what an amazing young woman you are.

      Tears scalding her throat like acid, Kelsey had promised. She’d had no idea how difficult—how impossible—keeping that promise would be.

      Finally, though, after eight years, she would have her chance to make good on her word. As a wedding planner, Kelsey had found her niche. She was organized, efficient, detail-oriented. Lessons learned as she scheduled her mother’s doctor appointments, oversaw her medications and dealt with the insurance company served her well as she juggled caterers, musicians, photographers and the occasional Bridezilla.

      Every wedding that ended in I do was a tribute to her mother’s memory, and Emily’s walk down the aisle would mean more than all the previous weddings. But before Emily could say her vows, Kelsey had to deal with one serious snag.

      A sudden attack of nerves cartwheeling through her stomach, Kelsey swung her purse off her shoulder. She unzipped the center pocket and pulled out her day planner where, along with every detail of the wedding, she’d written the flight information. According to the listed arrivals, the plane from Los Angeles was on time.

      Connor McClane was back in town.

      Kelsey flipped to the front of the day planner and pulled out a photograph. Her aunt had said the picture was ten years old, which could account for the worn edges and creased corner. Kelsey feared there might be another reason. How many times had Emily stared at this photograph and wondered what might have been?

      Kelsey had never met her cousin’s ex-boyfriend, the bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks, but the snapshot said it all. Connor McClane leaned against a motorcycle, dressed head-to-toe in black—from his boots, to the jeans that clung to his long legs, to the T-shirt that hugged his muscular chest. His arms were crossed, and he glared into the camera. A shock of shaggy dark hair, a shadow of stubble on his stubborn jaw and mirrored sunglasses completed the look.

      Kelsey could tell everything she needed to know from that picture except the color of Connor McClane’s eyes. The man was trouble, as bad a boy as Donnie Mardell had ever been. Kelsey knew it, just like she knew Connor was better looking in a two-dimensional photo than any living, breathing man she’d ever meet.

      Stuffing the picture and her day planner back in her purse, she hurried to the waiting area, where she focused on every man headed her way. He’d be twenty-nine by now, she reminded herself, four years her senior. Kelsey didn’t suppose she was lucky enough that he’d aged badly or gone prematurely bald.

      A beer belly, she thought, mentally crossing her fingers. A beer belly would be good.

      But at the first glimpse of the dark-haired man sauntering down the corridor, her heart flipped within her chest and her hopes crashed. No signs of age, baldness or overhanging waistline…just pure masculine perfection. Her mouth went as dry as the surrounding desert.

      Connor McClane had stepped to life from the photograph. From his form-hugging T-shirt, to his worn jeans and boots, to the sunglasses covering his eyes, every detail remained the same. A plane took off from a nearby runway, and the low rumble reverberating in her chest could have easily come from a motorcycle.

      Kelsey tried to swallow. Once, twice. Finally she gave up and croaked out, “Mr. McClane?”

      “Yes?” He stopped to look at her, and Kelsey’s only thought was that she still didn’t know the color of his eyes. Brown, maybe? To match the mahogany of his hair and tanned skin. Or blue? A bright, vivid contrast to his coloring.

      A dark eyebrow rose above his mirrored sunglasses, a reminder that she had yet to answer him. A rush of heat flooded her cheeks. “Uh, Mr. McClane—”

      “We’ve already established who I am. Question is, who are you?”

      “My name’s Kelsey Wilson.”

      He flashed a smile that revved her pulse. His head dipped, and she sensed him taking in the red hair she struggled to control, the freckled skin she tried to cover, and the extra pounds she sought to hide beneath the khaki skirt and boxy shirt. She saw her reflection in his mirrored glasses, a much shorter, much wider version of herself, like a carnival funhouse distortion.

      Kelsey didn’t feel much like laughing.

      Had she known her aunt was going to assign her this mission, she would have worn something different—like full body armor. The image of what Emily might have worn to meet her former boyfriend flashed in Kelsey’s mind. She shoved the pointless comparison away. Too much like trying to force Strawberry Shortcake into Barbie’s wardrobe.

      “Well, what do you know?” Connor stood in the middle of the corridor, mindless of the sea of people parting around him. “The Wilsons sent out a welcoming party. Heck, if I’d known I’d get this kind of reception, I might have come back sooner.”

      “I СКАЧАТЬ