скачать книгу бесплатно
A Wedding She'll Never Forget
Robyn Grady
Remembrance of Things PassionateShe's been making the "right" decisions all her life. But after elite D.C. event planner Scarlet Anders meets self-made billionaire Daniel McNeal–a rowdy, sexy male who laughs in the face of society–she wishes she could make different choices.Then she trips over a tangled wedding veil and everything changes. Because the resulting memory loss turns prim-and-proper Scarlet into carefree Scarlet. She jumps at Daniel's offer of a wild affair. Yet when her memory returns, she realizes she's in love with this man–but is he willing to give her a wedding of her own?
“I sense there’s a whole lot more to Scarlet Anders and I want the chance to get to know every bit of her.”
As his gaze roamed her face, her throat, a dangerous fizzy feeling sailed through her body, calling her, drawing her, and as if tugged by an invisible string, she tipped a fraction closer, too. Then one corner of his mouth curved up and, appalled by her behavior—at her craving—she jerked back again.
“Don’t look at me like that. You’re too …” She emptied her lungs, took another shallow breath. “You’re too close.”
“It’s going to be difficult,” he said. “Sitting beside you all night. Telling myself that I shouldn’t.”
“Shouldn’t what?”
In that deep drugging voice, he murmured, “Kiss you, of course.”
Dear Reader,
What more exciting place for a Mills & Boon
Desire™ series to be set than Washington, DC! So much glamour. So many secrets. Always so much at stake.
In A Wedding She’ll Never Forget, Ariella Winthrop continues to unravel the big questions surrounding her past and links to the incoming president, and investigations are underway to unmask the culprits responsible for those far-reaching White House leaks. In the meantime, work at DC Affairs—the district’s premiere party-planning company—must go on.
Ex White House PR specialist Caroline Cranshaw is getting married, and the heroine of this book—socialite and DC Affairs’s co-proprietor Scarlet Anders—intends to make her friend’s wedding everything Caroline has imagined. Only, Scarlet finds her usually pristine feathers being ruffled by the incredibly persistent, uncommonly sexy best man. Australian technology billionaire Daniel McNeal is Scarlet’s polar opposite and seems intent on stirring up all kinds of trouble for her with an annoying amount of ease. She’d sooner forget that man … if only she could.
When Scarlet’s wish comes true, it’s Daniel who suddenly finds he has trouble on his hands. And more than seduction on his mind.
Each story in this DAUGHTERS OF POWER collection is steeped in intrigue, scandal and, best of all, riveting romance. I hope you enjoy Scarlet and Daniel’s installment!
Best wishes,
Robyn
Keep up to date with Robyn’s latest releases and news at www.robyngrady.com.
About the Author
ROBYN GRADY was first published with Mills & Boon in 2007. Her books have since featured regularly on bestseller lists and at award ceremonies, including a National Readers’ Choice Award, a Booksellers’ Best Award, CataRomance Reviewers’ Choice Award and Australia’s prestigious Romantic Book of the Year Award.
Robyn lives on Queensland’s beautiful Sunshine Coast with her real-life hero husband and three daughters. When she can be dragged away from tapping out her next story, Robyn visits the theater, the beach and the mall (a lot!). To keep fit, she jogs (and shops) and dances with her youngest to Hannah Montana.
Robyn believes writing romance is the best job on the planet and she loves to hear from her readers. So drop by www.robyngrady.com and pass on your thoughts!
A Wedding She’ll
Never Forget
Robyn Grady
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
With thanks to my fellow Daughters of Power authors—Barbara Dunlop, Michelle Celmer, Rachel Bailey, Andrea Laurence and Jennifer Lewis. Wonderful to work with you all!
And a special shout-out for our brilliant series editor,
Charles Griemsman. Always a pleasure.
One
Angels live among us.
This one was balanced on a stepladder, decorating an arch strewn with sunflowers and sparkling cupids. Her chic upsweep of red-gold hair drew attention to the emeralds sparkling on each earlobe, jewels that paid homage to the color of her eyes. Together with a dark skirt and peach silk blouse, the package said refined as well as hold-me-back sexy.
A pair of black pumps were paired neatly at the ladder’s feet, and as she stretched to hang the final garland, one black-stockinged leg stretched out, too. Crossing his arms, Daniel McNeal butted a shoulder against the doorjamb and came to a conclusion. He’d bet all he was worth—and that was a lot—that one kiss from this angel could bring a mere mortal to his knees.
Spending time with a Washington wedding planner usually didn’t feature on his to-do list. The only reason Daniel was here now was to tend to his best mate’s upcoming nuptials. But frankly, right this minute he couldn’t think of a single place he’d rather be.
Although, at a distance, she faced him, she hadn’t noticed him yet. As she finished hanging the final cupid and began her descent, he pushed off the doorjamb and, looking forward to the introduction, sauntered over. A heartbeat later, her footing somehow slipped. Gravity pulled her weight backward and, with a delicate yip, she lost her grip. As both arms swept over her head, Daniel sprinted. Lunged. Thankfully he caught her before she hit the ground.
Heart pumping, he straightened while his angel’s wide green eyes stared up at the ceiling and her chest heaved with fright. She sucked back a fortifying breath. Eventually her startled gaze found his.
“I’ve been up that ladder dozens of times,” she said. “I’ve never slipped.” The bows of her lips trembled on a grateful smile. “I really need to thank you.”
“I know the ideal way. Have dinner with me tonight.”
She coughed out a laugh. Then she blinked, frowned and looked at him hard. “I don’t even know your name.”
“Daniel McNeal.”
Recognition lit her face. “Daniel McNeal of Waves fame. The social networking site. I recognize the face now. You’re Australian, yes?”
He nodded. “And you must be Scarlet Anders.”
She was a partner here at DC Affairs with Ariella Winthrop—the woman who’d recently been labeled as the incoming president’s secret love child. The claim, made by an American News Service reporter in a toast at an inauguration gala, had set the nation back flat on its behind. The obvious question was: If Ariella was indeed President Morrow’s daughter, who was responsible for the leak? And just how deep did that fissure go?
Scarlet Anders was still gazing up at him. “So you’re here about a wedding, Mr. McNeal?”
“Yes.” He lifted her a fraction higher. “But not my own.”
As if she were pleased to hear it, her perfect smile spread. But then her eyes rounded again and she wriggled until he had no choice but to set her down on her two stockinged feet. After patting back an errant curl flopped over one eye, she straightened her skirt, slipped on her shoes.
“Much better.” Exhaling, she squared her shoulders and folded her hands loosely before her. “Now we can talk business.”
“I was fine talking the other way.” While I held you in my arms.
Her cheeks flushed a flattering shade of pink before she schooled her features and got the conversation back on track.
“So you’re here regarding a wedding?”
“I’m Max Grayson’s best man.”
Like a kid who’d found her Christmas gifts early, she tipped up on her toes and pressed her hands against her drop pearl necklace in excitement. If not for etiquette, she might have thrown out her arms and hugged him.
“Max is engaged to one of my closest friends, Caroline Cranshaw,” she said. “Every occasion DC Affairs takes on is special but we want Cara’s day to be beyond brilliant.”
“My goal exactly.”
“In that case, I’m doubly pleased to meet you, Mr. McNeal.”
When she extended her hand, he fought the urge to lift her fingers and brush his lips over the smooth underside of her wrist. Instead, he smiled, shook and ever so gently squeezed.
“Call me Daniel,” he said. “We’re all friends here, right?”
“Friends.” She blinked. “Yes, of course.”
When Scarlet tugged her hand away, her palm came to rest high on her stomach before she crossed to a display table set up in this room, one of three used to present wedding ceremony themes and displays.
“I was mulling over Cara’s color scheme this morning.” Her French-tipped nails traced over satin samples until she stopped at one. He couldn’t help but notice. Third finger, left hand, no bling.
“Pastel pink is so pretty for a bride,” she said, and he chuckled.
“Unfortunately, not so hot for us guys.”
She flicked him a questioning glance before going on.
“Cara put a few suggestions forward. We’ll work together over the coming weeks to make sure both she and Max are happy.” She turned to him, holding the pink swatch she liked between them. “I appreciate you dropping in to introduce yourself. We’ll speak again at the rehearsal dinner, I’m sure.”
“Sounds official.”
“It’s meant to be fun. Relaxed.”
A grin eased across his face. “Fun and relaxed work for me.”
When he didn’t move but rather continued smiling into those entrancing spring-green eyes, she held her stomach again and asked, “Did a specific query or concern bring you here today?”
Needing to concentrate on matters other than whether Scarlet Anders drank coffee or juice with breakfast—whether she wore lace or her birthday suit to bed—he drew back, tugged an ear.
“Max and I have been good friends for many years,” he said. “We know everything there is to know about each other. Frankly, when I heard the news, I was surprised. It’s not every day a guy’s closest mate lets the world know he’s found the girl of his dreams. Given what he’d told me in the past, I’d never imagined him married. Unless you count a man being married to his work.”
She gave a faint shrug. “Priorities change.”
“Seems so. After meeting Cara, seeing them together, I’m nothing but pleased for them both—for the wedding as well as the baby on the way. He’s a lucky man to have found that kind of happiness.”
Her guarded expression softened as she lowered the swatch of material to her side. Then she caught herself and, a little embarrassed, smiled again.
“I didn’t take you for a romantic.”
He cocked a brow. A romantic? He was merely making a point.
“Thing is,” he went on, “there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to support them on their day and beyond.”
“That’s exactly how I feel.”
“I’d hoped you’d say that, because I need your help. I’d like to inject a little fun into the whole shebang.”
“Such as?”
“I’m thinking some good ol’ Aussie humor.”
One eyebrow slowly arched. “Aussie … humor?”
“Nothing outrageous.”
Her lips twitched. “No kangaroos in bow ties, then?”
“Actually, I’d thought of flying in a couple of crocs from Kakadu.” Her face slipped before she realized he was kidding. Given that bland look, Scarlet Anders, however, was not amused.
“I’ve had the privilege of being best man for a few of my mates,” he explained. “I like to do something special on the day. It’s become a bit of a tradition.”
“Put a list together.” She laid the fabric sample down and gazed at it, straightening it twice. “I’ll give you our contact details and I’ll see what we can do. As long as what you have planned doesn’t interrupt protocol or good taste, of course.”
His jaw shifted. Apparently this angel also came with a good dollop of diva thrown in.
“I didn’t want to interrupt anything so much as add to it,” he pointed out.
“In the outback I’m sure things are far more … impromptu.”
“I don’t live in the outback. Never have.”
“Perhaps you should.” Giving him a once-over—jeans, loafers, casual button-down, cuffs folded back—she tempered her dry tone with a backhanded compliment. “I mean, you’re obviously the rugged type.”
“Now that depends on your definition of rugged.”
When his gaze penetrated hers, challenging Scarlet to look more deeply, too, she emitted a barely audible noise; she was agitated but also intrigued. Then her shoulders squared again and she headed for the door with the kind of gliding air only the refined and privileged could pull off.
“I hate to be rude,” she said, “but I’m on a tight schedule this afternoon.”
“Which brings us back to my earlier suggestion. We can talk more about my ideas over dinner.”
“Given the circumstances—” her pert nose wrinkled “—inappropriate, I’m afraid.”
His grin was wry. “I’m the guy who saved your life, remember? The thought of sharing time with me over a three-course meal can’t be that bad.”
“On the contrary—” She cut herself off. Then, cheeks pink again, she nodded cordially. Purposefully. “It was good to have met you.”
Right then he should have walked—tipped his head, said goodbye and put this whole “helping with the wedding” business behind him. Except, from the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d been fascinated. Inexplicably, totally charmed. No getting away from the fact. His mind was made up.
His pursuit of Scarlet Anders had only begun.
