Nina Harrington

Last-Minute Bridesmaid


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catch up the minute I get back. I’ll be thinking of you this weekend and we’ll talk more when I get back. And I am sorry, Heath, but this is goodbye. Have a great time at the wedding. Bye.’

      And then the phone went dead.

      Heath Sheridan stared at the completely innocent telephone for several seconds while he suppressed the urge to throw it out of the stained-glass window.

      This is goodbye? Have a great time at the wedding?

      What had just happened? Because, unless he had completely got it wrong...his girlfriend had just broken up with him. On the telephone. From China.

      Okay. It was July and this would have been the first time that they had spent more than a couple of days together since New Year. He had frantically completed a major promotional tour for his bestselling thriller author before moving to Boston to work for Sheridan Press. There never seemed to be enough hours in the day, especially over the past few months.

      And what about her work?

      Olivia’s anthropology project with Beijing University had turned into a major excavation into cave art which would take years to complete. She had even had to send the dressmaker her dimensions for her bridesmaid’s dress by email. He knew this because he was the one who had taken the barrage of complaints from Kate Lovat about making a bridesmaid’s dress for a slim five-foot-three girl who would have to wear the dress without a single fitting.

      Heath’s fingers froze on the keyboard.

      Oh, no.

      He was going to have to tell the bride that she was going to have to walk down the aisle of the village church on her family estate with three bridesmaids instead of four.

      He dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

      He was toast.

      TWO

      Kate stood in the doorway to the library room and took a breath.

      The last time that she had seen Heath Sheridan was at a high school dance and it had certainly been a memorable occasion. Just thinking about that moment when she had jumped on him to say goodnight made her feel so embarrassed and intimidated. And that was without the height difference, which meant that he towered over her without even trying.

      Kate shrugged off her nerves. That was years ago. This time they were equal. Two professionals with their own businesses.

      Unfortunately for her poor heart, Heath Sheridan had the nerve to have actually become even more handsome than the man she remembered and Amber talked about constantly.

      The star student who had made his name turning around the popular fiction division of the family publishing company should be round-shouldered and wear cardigans with leather patches at the elbow.

      He had no right to be so tall and clear-skinned. And that hair! Lush dark brown hair which curled into the base of his neck and seemed to have a mind of its own. He had never been vain—she knew that from talking to Amber—but style and vanity were two very different matters and Heath Sheridan had style to spare.

      Why shouldn’t he?

      Amber wore gowns by top fashion houses and his family were on the top level of Boston society. It made perfect sense for him to be wearing a tailored black suit and shirt which fitted him so perfectly she knew instinctively that they had been made to measure.

      Those strong shoulders, slim waist and hips would be a gift to any tailor.

      Oh, my. And how she would like to dress him.

      Suddenly the room become stiflingly hot and it had nothing to do with the weather!

      ‘Ah! There you are,’ Kate called out through a tight throat. ‘Special delivery for the man of the house, courtesy of Lovat courier services. Great to see you again, Heath.’

      She waited for him to turn around and give her one of those fabulous grins that used to make her teenage knees wobble.

      And she waited. And then she waited a little longer. But his gaze stayed totally locked onto whatever he was finding so fascinating on his computer screen. She could see that he was reading and typing so he was not asleep.

      So she tried again.

      ‘Hi, Heath. Your one-woman dressmaker and delivery service is here.’

      Kate looked at Heath and then looked at the pretty dress box that she had slaved for hours to create and then carted across London in a downpour.

      She might forgive him for not turning around to greet her but there was no way that he was going to ignore the fabulous work that she had done.

      ‘Thank you, Kate. You were such a star to drop everything else that you were working on to create four amazing outfits at the very last minute as a personal favour,’ she murmured under her breath as she slung her shoulder bag higher over her shoulder.

      ‘Sorry I cannot find the time to even look at your work,’ she added with a mock lilt in her voice. ‘Don’t let the door swing on your way out.’

      Heath did not even glance at her.

      Right. Well, that answered that question. ‘Bye, Heath. See you around some time. Have a fabulous wedding. The bill is in the post.’

      Still no reply.

      What had she been thinking?

      The fashion design company she had created from scratch and passion was in so much trouble. She should be back in her studio working on ballet costumes for her pal Leo, not spending what little free time she had stolen from the day getting dressed up to deliver wedding clothes as a favour for her friend’s stepbrother.

      Her friend’s gorgeous, handsome, debonair and totally oblivious to the fact that she existed brother.

      She was delusional. And more than a little pathetic.

      ‘Have a lovely wedding. I do hope everything goes well. Why don’t I just leave this last dress with you and call you later? Bye!’ she smiled and sang out in a sing-song voice.

      Nothing. Not even a raised eyebrow.

      Kate pressed a hand to each hip. Well, now he was just being rude.

      Kate tossed her bag onto a chair and stomped over to the desk and, before Heath could do anything to stop her, closed the lid down on his laptop and swivelled the chair away from the desk.

      And at that very moment he looked up and turned his head.

      His mouth twisted into a half smile that screamed out that he had known that she was there the whole time. Eyes the colour of the burnt sugar coating on the top of a crème caramel dessert smiled at her, dazzling and driving any chance of sensible thought from her brain.

      She half closed her eyes and scowled at him then rapped her knuckles twice on his forehead. Hard.

      ‘Hello. Is anyone at home?’ she said, ignoring his shouts of protest. ‘Remember me? The girl who has just gone out of her way to hand-deliver the last bridesmaid’s dress so that your new stepmum won’t be followed down the aisle by a girl in cargo pants?’

      ‘Kate. Yes. Of course. How long have you been waiting?’ Heath replied with a groan as he rubbed life back into his forehead.

      ‘Long enough to realise that you have not been listening to a word that I have said. In fact a person of delicate sensibilities might even call you rude and insulting.’

      ‘Oh, no. Did I just zone out on you?’

      She nodded slowly, up and down, her lips pushed forward. ‘If that is what you call totally ignoring me for the past five minutes, then yes, you did.’

      Then he did the smiley thing again and there was just enough of a twinkle in those eyes to drive away the clouds.

      Wow, some men just ticked all the boxes. It was so unfair to the others.

      ‘I