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It Started at a Wedding...
Kate Hardy
One kiss is never enough!Claire Stewart thought her day couldn’t get any worse – but she was wrong! As if losing her best friend’s wedding dress wasn’t enough, she’s faced with the ultra-handsome, ultra-successful brother of the bride, Sean Farrell…Oh, and she’s had a crush on him for years!Sean might have turned his back on romance a long time ago, but somehow Claire manages to slip inside his heart. The trouble is, Sean knows that when it comes to Claire, one scorching, unforgettable kiss at a wedding just isn’t enough…
Oh, help, Claire thought. She’d been here before.
She could still remember the first night she’d kissed Sean Farrell.
The way his mouth had felt against hers before he’d pulled away and given her a total dressing-down about being seventeen years old and in a state in which an unscrupulous man might have taken advantage of her.
Right now it would be all too easy to let her hands drift up over his shoulders, curl round the nape of his neck and draw his mouth down to hers. Particularly as they were no longer on the dance floor, in full view of the rest of the guests. At some point while they’d been dancing together they’d moved away from the temporary dance floor. Now they were in a secluded area of the garden. Just the two of them in the twilight.
‘Claire …’ His voice was a whisper.
And she knew he was going to kiss her again.
It Started at a Wedding …
Kate Hardy
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Award-winning author KATE HARDY lives in Norwich with her husband, two children, one spaniel and too many books to count! She’s a fan of the theatre, ballroom dancing, posh chocolate and anything Italian. She’s a history and science geek, plays the guitar and piano, and makes great cookies (which is why she also has to go to the gym five days a week …).
To the Harlequin Mills & Boon Romance authors, with much love and thanks for being such brilliant colleagues and friends—and for letting me bounce mad ideas off them!
Contents
Cover (#u97e6e8b8-01b8-57a2-9fb1-8ea67a96e2f6)
Introduction (#uc69e26f9-2951-5a0f-b1a3-a5c6471db8c6)
Title Page (#uf35e9908-6d13-547c-a647-2f19ae0b3aee)
About the Author (#u88719127-f181-50ba-8840-7003ad5724d0)
Dedication (#uf6955dd9-017c-5666-bc36-4aa6aa546dec)
CHAPTER ONE (#uf2fd4e00-236b-5e5a-8d7e-ea5e0c7477c2)
CHAPTER TWO (#u37694eaf-96e3-5ecc-b74e-cd60f34cc2ae)
CHAPTER THREE (#uee9f3df1-3302-5ec8-9c7a-81628c3fcb54)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u86609920-9975-5814-8804-2b40e302089a)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_dd5767e3-1cfd-5a03-9eec-0bf7dbe97d41)
NO.
This couldn’t be happening.
The box had to be there.
It had to be.
But the luggage carousel was empty. It had even stopped going round, now the last case had been taken off it. And Claire was the only one standing there, waiting with a small suitcase and a dress box—and a heart full of panic.
Where was her best friend’s wedding dress?
‘Get a grip, Claire Stewart. Standing gawping at the carousel isn’t going to make the dress magically appear. Go and talk to someone,’ she told herself sharply. She gathered up her case and the box containing the bridesmaid’s dress, and went in search of someone who might be able to find out where the wedding dress was. Maybe the box had accidentally been put in the wrong flight’s luggage and it was sitting somewhere else, waiting to be claimed.
Half an hour of muddling through in a mixture of English and holidaymakers’ Italian got her the bad news. Somewhere between London and Naples, the dress had vanished.
The dress Claire had spent hours working on, hand-stitching the tiny pearls on the bodice and the edge of the veil.
The dress Claire’s best friend was supposed to be wearing at her wedding in Capri in two days’ time.
Maybe this was a nightmare and she’d wake up from it in a second. Surreptitiously, Claire pinched herself. It hurt. Not good, because that meant this was really happening. She was in Naples with her luggage, her own bridesmaid’s dress...and no wedding dress.
There was nothing else for it. She grabbed her mobile phone, found a quiet corner in the airport and called Ashleigh.
Whose phone was switched through to voicemail.
This definitely wasn’t the kind of news Claire could leave on voicemail; that would be totally unfair. She tried calling Luke, Ashleigh’s fiancé, but his phone was also switched through to voicemail. She glanced at her watch. It was still so early that they were probably in the middle of breakfast and they’d probably left their phones in their room. OK. Who else could she call? She didn’t have a number for Tom, Luke’s best man. Sammy, her other best friend, who was photographing the wedding, wasn’t flying to Italy until tomorrow, after she’d finished a photo-shoot in New York. The rest of the wedding guests were due to arrive on the morning of the wedding.
Which left Ashleigh’s brother. The man who was going to give Ashleigh away. The man who played everything strictly by the rules—and Claire had just broken them. Big time. He was the last person she could call.
But he wasn’t in Capri yet, either. Which meant she had time to fix this.
What she needed was a plan.
Scratch that. What she really needed was coffee. She’d spent the last two weeks working all hours on Ashleigh’s dress as well as the work she was doing for a big wedding show, and she’d skimped on sleep to get everything done in time. That, plus the ridiculously early flight she’d taken out here this morning, meant that she was fuzzy and unfocused.
Coffee.
Even thought she normally drank lattes, this called for desperate measures. She needed something strong and something fast. One espresso with three sugars later, Claire’s head was clear enough to work out her options. It meant more travelling—a lot more travelling—but that didn’t matter. Claire would’ve walked over hot coals for Ashleigh. She was more than Claire’s best friend; she was the sister Claire would’ve chosen.
She tried calling Ashleigh again. This time, to Claire’s relief, her best friend answered her mobile phone.
‘Claire, hi! Are you in Naples already?’
‘Um, yes. But, Ash, there’s a bit of a problem.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Honey, I don’t know how to soften this.’ There wasn’t a way to soften news like this. ‘Is Luke with you?’
‘Ye-es.’ Ashleigh sounded as if she was frowning with concern. ‘Why?’
‘I think you’re going to need him,’ Claire said.
‘Now you’re really worrying me. Claire? What’s happened? Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine.’ Claire had no option but to tell her best friend the news straight. ‘But I’m so sorry, Ash. I’ve really let you down. Your dress. It’s gone missing somewhere between here and London.’
‘What?’
‘I’ve been talking to the airline staff. They phoned London for me. They said it’s not in London, and it’s definitely not in Naples. They’re going to try and track it down, but they wanted us to be prepared for the fact that they might not be able to find it before the wedding.’
‘Oh, my God.’ Ashleigh gave a sharp intake of breath.
‘I know. Look—we have options. I don’t have time to make you another dress like that one, even if I could get the material and borrow a sewing machine. But we can go looking in Naples and find something off the peg, something I can maybe tweak for you. Or I can leave the bridesmaid’s dress and my case here in the left luggage, and get the next flight back to London. I’m pretty much the same size as you, so I’ll Skype you while I try on every single dress in my shop and you can pick the ones you like best. Then I’ll get the next flight back here, and you can try the dresses on and I’ll do any alterations so your final choice is perfect.’
Except it wouldn’t be perfect, would it?
It wouldn’t be the dress of Ashleigh’s dreams. The dress Claire had designed especially for her. The dress that had gone missing.
‘And you’ll still be the most beautiful bride in the world, I swear,’ Claire finished, desperately hoping that her best friend would see that.
‘They lost my dress.’ Ashleigh sounded numb. Which wasn’t surprising. Planning the wedding had opened up old scars, so Ashleigh had decided to get married abroad—and the dress had been one of the few traditions she’d kept.
And Claire had let her down. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’
‘Claire, honey, it’s not your fault that the airline lost my dress.’
That wasn’t how Sean would see it. Claire had clashed with Ashleigh’s brother on a number of occasions, and she knew that he didn’t like her very much. They saw the world in very different ways, and Sean would see this as yet another example of Claire failing to meet his standards. She’d failed to meet her own, too.
‘Look, I was the one bringing the dress to Italy. It was my responsibility, so the fact it’s gone wrong is my fault,’ Claire pointed out. ‘What do you want to do? Meet me here in Naples and we’ll go shopping?’
‘I’m still trying to get my head round this. My dress,’ Ashleigh said, sounding totally flustered—which, considering that Ashleigh was the calmest and most together person Claire knew, was both surprising and worrying.
‘OK. Forget Naples. Neither of us knows the place well enough to find the right wedding shops anyway, so we’ll stick with London. Have a look on my website, email me with a note of your top ten, and we’ll talk again when I’m back in the shop. Then I’ll bring your final choices on the next flight back.’ She bit her lip. ‘Though I wouldn’t blame you for not trusting me to get it right this time.’
‘Claire-bear, it’s not your fault. Luke’s here now—he’s worked out what’s going on and he’s just said he’d marry me if I was wearing a hessian sack. The dress isn’t important. Maybe we can find something in Capri or Sorrento.’
Ashleigh was clearly aiming for light and breezy, but Claire could hear the wobble in her best friend’s voice. She knew what the dress meant to Ashleigh: the one big tradition she was sticking to for her wedding day. ‘No, Ash. It’ll take us for ever to find a wedding shop. And what if you don’t like what they have in stock? That’s not fair to you. I know I’ll have something you like, so I’m going to get the next flight back to London. I’ll call you as soon as I get there,’ she said.
‘Claire, that’s so much travelling—I can’t make you do that.’
‘You’re not making me. I’m offering. You’re my best friend and I’d go to the end of the earth for you,’ Claire said, her voice heartfelt.
‘Me, too,’ Ashleigh said. ‘OK. I’ll call the spa and move our bookings.’
So much for the pampering day they’d planned. A day to de-stress the bride-to-be. Claire had messed that up, too, by losing the dress. ‘I’m so sorry I let you down,’ Claire said. ‘I’d better go. I need to get my luggage stored and find a flight.’ And she really hoped that there would be a seat available. If there wasn’t... Well, she’d get to London somehow. Train, plane, ferry. Whatever it took. She wasn’t going to let Ashleigh down again. ‘I’ll call you when I get back to London.’
* * *
‘Please don’t tell me something’s come up and you’re not going to make it in time for the wedding.’
‘Of course not,’ Sean said, hearing the panic in his little sister’s voice and wondering what was wrong. Was this just an attack of last-minute nerves? Or was she having serious second thoughts? He liked his future brother-in-law enormously, but if Ashleigh had changed her mind about marrying him, then of course Sean would back her in calling off the wedding. All he wanted was to see Ashleigh settled and happy. ‘I was just calling to see if you needed me to bring any last-minute things over with me.’
‘Oh. Yes. Of course.’
But she sounded flustered—very unlike the calm, sensible woman he knew her to be. ‘Ashleigh? What’s happened?’
‘Nothing.’
But her response was a little too hasty for Sean’s liking. He deliberately made his voice gentle. ‘Sweetie, if there’s a problem, you know you can always talk to me. I’ll help you fix it.’ OK, so Ashleigh was only three years younger than he was, and he knew that she was perfectly capable of sorting out her own problems—but he’d always looked out for his little sister, even before their parents had been killed in the crash that had turned their lives upside down six years ago. ‘Tell me.’
‘The airline lost my dress,’ Ashleigh said. ‘But it’s OK. Claire’s gone back to London to get me another one.’
Sean paused while it sank in.
There was a problem with his sister’s wedding.
And Claire Stewart was smack in the middle of the problem.
Why didn’t that surprise him?
‘Wasn’t Claire meant to be bringing the dress with her?’ he asked.
‘It wasn’t her fault, Sean.’
No. Of course not. It would never be Miss Follow-Your-Heart’s fault that something went wrong and everyone else had to pick up the pieces.
