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The Kidnapped Bride
Metsy Hingle
SHANGHAIED FROM THE CHURCH? Slung over the broad shoulders of her ex-fiance as he kidnapped her from the church was not the way Lorelei Mason had envisioned her wedding day to her new fiance.Jack Storm had left her at the altar once; now he had the nerve to want her back! Jack had made the biggest mistake of his life when he was a no-show for his wedding. Now he hoped Lorelei would fall in love with him again. And only then would he take her back to the church - to marry him!RIGHT BRIDE, WRONG GROOM: Marrying Mr. Almost-Right is all wrong, especially when the perfect man is ready to sweep you into his arms!
Lorelei Dropped Her Bridal Bouquet As Everything Went Dark. (#ud1e2d57e-572b-5f69-9a74-a0a1cd239cad)Letter to Reader (#u64f7d3f0-d1e6-5a7f-9f1b-2459b376845b)Title Page (#u7ea9a8e1-0b2c-5251-a003-dab7c45f7ad4)About the Author (#u0053716c-3844-5605-b390-d61108895f72)Dedication (#u31e22553-b2c2-591f-95b2-154455954438)Chapter One (#u0447ebeb-12dd-5a21-8715-d0170165f7a0)Chapter Two (#u3539b1c2-5eaa-551e-abdc-53e7b57fc87d)Chapter Three (#ub2158e42-3f70-52f8-9758-3301f6ec97e7)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)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)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Lorelei Dropped Her Bridal Bouquet As Everything Went Dark.
Jack tossed the sheet over her head and then she felt herself being lifted from the floor and flung over a shoulder—a hard, muscular shoulder. And suddenly they were moving.
Just as the first notes of “The Wedding March” sounded, Lorelei felt the blast of July heat hit her and realized they had exited the church. She’d just been kidnapped from her wedding! This can’t be happening, she thought. Shock turned to anger as she attempted to get free.
“Be still,” Jack commanded, patting her on her rear.
“Jack! Take me back to my wedding!”
“Sorry, beautiful. That’s something I’m not willing to do.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“Because, sweetheart, you promised a long time ago to marry me, and I’ve decided to hold you to that promise.”
Dear Reader,
LET’S CELEBRATE FIFTEEN YEARS
OF SILHOUETTE DESIRE...
with some of your favorite authors and new stars of tomorrow. For the next three months, we present a spectacular lineup of unforgettably romantic love stories—led by three MAN OF THE MONTH titles.
In October, Diana Palmer returns to Desire with The Patient Nurse, which features an unforgettable hero. Next month, Ann Major continues her bestselling CHILDREN OF DESTINY series with Nobody’s Child. And in December, Dixie Browning brings us her special brand of romantic charm in Look What the Stork Brought.
But Desire is not only MAN OF THE MONTH! It’s new love stories from talented authors Christine Rimmer, Helen R. Myers, Raye Morgan, Metsy Hingle and new star Katherine Garbera in October.
In November, don’t miss sensuous surprises from BJ James, Lass Small, Susan Crosby, Eileen Wilks and Shawna Delacorte.
And December will be filled with Christmas cheer from Maureen Child, Kathryn Jensen, Christine Pacheco,
Anne Eames and Barbara McMahon.
Remember, here at Desire we’ve been committed to bringing you the very best in unforgettable romance and sizzling sensuality. And to add to the excitement of fifteen wonderful years. we offer the chance for you to win some wonderful prizes. Look in the pages at the end of the book for details. And may we have many more years of happy reading together!
Senior Editor
Please address questions and book requests to:
Silhouette Reader Service
U.S.: 3010 Walden Ave., P.O. Box 1325, Buffalo, NY 14269
Canadian: P.O. Box 609, Port Erie, Ont. L2A 5X3
The Kidnapped Bride
Metsy Hingle
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
METSY HINGLE is a native of New Orleans who loves the city in which she grew up. She credits the charm of her birthplace, and her own French heritage, with instilling in her the desire to write. Married and the mother of four children, she believes in romance and happy endings. Becoming a Silhouette author is a long-cherished dream come true for Metsy and one happy ending that she continues to celebrate with each new story she writes. She loves hearing from readers. Write to Metsy at P.O. Box 3224. Covington, LA 70433.
For Jean and Jeanne Wilson,
for all the years of friendship,
for all the years of love.
One
“You don’t have to go through with it, you know. It’s not too late to back out.”
Lorelei Mason dragged her attention from the sight of her future mother-in-law being escorted down the aisle of the church and stared at her younger sister. Dressed in rosecolored silk that set off her creamy skin and the reddish gold of her hair, her sister Desiree looked at her out of troubled eyes. “It’s not too late to back out of what?”
“The wedding,” Desiree informed her, darting a quick glance at the church doors. “If you’re having second thoughts about marrying Herbert, then you shouldn’t do it. It’s not too late to say you’ve changed your mind.”
“What makes you think I’m having second thoughts?” Lorelei asked even as she felt the knot of apprehension tighten in her stomach again. She wasn’t having second thoughts about marrying Herbert Van Owen III. She was having third, fourth and fifth thoughts about marrying him and had been for the past two weeks—ever since Jack Storm had showed up in Mesa. The blasted man, Lorelei thought, frowning. She hadn’t expected to ever see him again, nor had she wanted to. So what was a sea-loving pirate like him doing here in the Arizona desert? And why now, just when she was about to get married?
“Because you don’t look the way a bride should look on her wedding day.”
At her sister’s remark, Lorelei shoved thoughts of Jack from her mind. She looked down at her white lace-and-satin wedding gown—the one she’d ordered months ago from the bridal store in Phoenix and had paid an outrageous two weeks’ salary for. She made a point of checking her matching white shoes and the bouquet of ivory roses and lilies in her hand. Arching her brow, she leveled her younger sibling with the look of superiority and wisdom that her almost two years’ advantage in age gave her. “That’s funny. I think I look like a bride. And I know I’m certainly dressed for the part.”
Desiree let out a dramatic sigh that bespoke her stage training. “You’re always so literal, Lorelei,” she said, making a face. “I wasn’t talking about your dress. I was talking about you. You don’t look the way a bride should look on her wedding day.”
“And how is it I’m supposed to look?” Lorelei asked imperiously. She would not let her baby sister cause her to start second-guessing herself. Her decision to marry Herbert had been a sound one, made after carefully considering the pros and cons. Her stomach did another somersault, and Lorelei fought against the uneasy feeling. It’s nerves, she told herself. She just needed to get this wedding over and done with. She cut a glance toward the vestibule. What in the world was keeping her father and older sister? How long did it take to adjust a cummerbund anyway?
“You should look...happy.”
She shifted her attention back to her sister. “I am happy,” Lorelei informed her.
“But you don’t...glow. A bride should glow on her wedding day,” Desiree said dreamily.
Lorelei blinked. Glow? She was expected to glow when she was having a hard time not losing the coffee and toast she’d managed to force down sometime before noon that day? “I’m not a light bulb, for pity’s sake. And I don’t know any women who walk around glowing on their wedding day or any other day.” Except maybe her mother. There had always been a glow about her mother whenever she looked at Lorelei’s father. “That’s just another one of those foolish ideas the media uses to help sell a poor, prospective bride a lot of unnecessary products.”
“No, it’s not,” Desiree insisted as she fidgeted with the sprig of pink and white roses in her bouquet.
Lorelei narrowed her eyes at the movement. What was wrong with her sister? Desiree never fidgeted. Or at least not since they’d been children. And then only when she’d done something she felt guilty about.
“The media has nothing to do with it. On her wedding day a bride should glow with happiness. And you don’t.”
All right. So she didn’t glow, Lorelei conceded silently. There was no surprise in that since she didn’t feel like a glowing bride, either. But then, she was almost twenty-nine now, not some starry-eyed teenager who believed in such romantic nonsense. She was a responsible and levelheaded woman. And she refused to let her sister’s remark get to her. “Desiree, sweetie, you’ve obviously played one too many romantic leads.”
“This has nothing to do with my acting.”
“Then what is this all about? And for heaven sakes, stop that fidgeting. Why are you so nervous anyway? You’re not the one getting married. I am.”
“Oh, Lorelei.” Desiree caught her hand and squeezed it.
Uneasiness climbed up Lorelei’s spine again at her sister’s solemn expression. “What? What’s wrong?”
Desiree blinked back tears. “You’re my sister and I love you. I just don’t want to see you make a mistake that you’ll regret for the rest of your life.”
Taken aback, Lorelei asked, “What makes you think I’ll regret marrying Herbert?”
“Because I don’t think you really love him. And if you don’t love him, you shouldn’t marry him.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Lorelei told her, pulling her hand free. The knot tightened in her stomach again.
“No, it’s not. I think you want to love Herbert. I really believe you do. But you can’t because you’re really still in love with Jack and—”
“Don’t you dare mention that...that scoundrel’s name to me,” Lorelei ordered, unable to keep the heat out of her voice. Of all days, her wedding day was not when she wanted to be reminded of Jack Storm and what a fool she had been where he was concerned.
“But—”
“All set?” her father asked as he and her sister Clea joined them.
“Yes,” Lorelei said, pulling herself together. She pinned Desiree with a look that said the discussion was closed.
“Then let’s get this show on the road,” Henry Mason told her.
“You okay?” Clea asked. “You look...upset.”
“I’m fine. I just want to get this over with,” she said, her voice clipped. At the slight lifting of Clea’s dark brow, Lorelei softened her tone and said, “Sorry. Bridal jitters, I guess.”
Clea smiled. “Which is another reason I’m glad it’s you getting married and not me.”
Lorelei forced a smile, then gave a nod to the organist to begin the processional. Music filled the church, and Lorelei’s stomach took another nosedive as Clea moved to the center of the entranceway and prepared to walk down the aisle.
“My boutonniere,” Henry Mason exclaimed. “I left it in the room.”
“Daddy, don’t worry about it. You don’t need it.”
“Nonsense. I can’t walk my little girl down the aisle and not be properly dressed. Besides, your mother would never let me hear the end of it.” Smiling, he patted her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
Lorelei’s palms grew damp as her older sister started down the aisle. The flowers in her hands started to shake, and Lorelei tightened her grip, strangling the stem of the bouquet. She felt hot. She felt cold. Her head started to buzz. She pressed her hand to her stomach, feeling as though a war had been launched inside it. Stop it, Lorelei commanded and attempted to regain control of herself.
It was bridal jitters, just as she had told Clea. All brides went through this. Of course she wanted to marry Herbert. She’d known him for four years, had been engaged to him for the past two.
I don’t think you really love Herbert.
Desiree’s words played over in her mind, but Lorelei shut them out. All right. So maybe there weren’t any fireworks when Herbert kissed her, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. Of course she loved him. And she was going to marry him.
Clea reached the midway point, and Desiree stepped to the center of the doorway, preparing to precede Lorelei down the aisle to the altar, where Herbert waited.
Lorelei swallowed past a fresh bout of nerves as the music played on and the organist gave the cue for Desiree to begin going down the aisle.
Desiree hesitated in the doorway and turned to face her. There it was again, the guilt in her baby sister’s eyes. “Lorelei, I’m sorry. I just want you to be happy. I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Confused, Lorelei stared at her sister. “Forgive you for what?”
“For stopping you from marrying the wrong man.”
Lorelei whipped around at the sound of Jack’s voice. She froze. For a moment she couldn’t move. She couldn’t speak. She simply stared at him. He stood there in the back of the church looking bigger than life in his faded jeans and denim shirt, his dark hair curling at his neck, his sinful blue eyes gleaming mischievously. She looked down at his hands, big and bronzed from the sun, and holding what appeared to be a sheet.
“Hello, beautiful,” he said, flashing her a smile.
The familiar endearment snapped her from the spell. “What are you—?”
Jack tossed the sheet over her head, and Lorelei dropped her bouquet as everything went dark. She grabbed at the sheet, tried to push it away from her face.
“Aghhh,” Lorelei attempted to scream, and managed to swallow a mouthful of cotton sheet. Then she felt herself being lifted from the floor and flung over a shoulder—a hard, muscular shoulder.
And then suddenly they were moving.
Just as the first notes of the wedding march sounded, Lorelei felt the blast of July heat hit her and realized they had exited the church. This can’t be happening, she thought. It can’t be. Shock turned to anger, and she renewed her attempts to get free.
“Be still,” Jack commanded, smacking her on her rear.
Lorelei gasped and got another mouthful of sheet. Furious, she started to kick her legs, only to have her stomach, which had been churning all day, turn over at the bumpy trip down what was obviously the church steps.
It would serve him right if she got sick all over him. And she’d ruin her wedding dress. Her wedding! She’d just been kidnapped from her wedding. The strains of the church music grew more distant, and Lorelei kicked out again, only to earn another swat to her bottom. Outraged, she was just about to kick again when she felt herself being dumped into the seat of some type of vehicle and strapped in with what had to be a safety harness.
She heard the door slam next to her and another one open on the other side. When the engine started, she renewed her fight through the tangle of sheet and wedding veil. Finally she managed to get her head free. A thick section of fawn-colored hair fell across her right cheekbone and eye—a casualty of her upswept hairdo. Her carefully and expensively styled hairdo. Pushing it away from her face, she glared at Jack. “How dare you!”
He shifted the truck into reverse and executed a swift turn that sent her body sideways and did nothing to ease her stomach.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, still fighting to get the rest of her body free from the imprisoning sheet.
“I told you,” he said, giving her a wink and that devilish smile again. “I’m stopping you from marrying the wrong man.” Then he shifted and sent the vehicle speeding past the church.
“You’re crazy!”
“Probably.”
Lorelei twisted in her seat, and another curl tumbled into her eyes. She shoved it away in time to see her sister Desiree standing on the church steps, a guilty expression written all over her face.
Jack made a sharp turn, and Lorelei’s wedding veil plopped into her lap. She stared at the crushed tulle trimmed with tiny seed pearls and looked back at the church that was rapidly shrinking from view. What would her parents think? What would Herbert think?
Herbert! Oh, mercy, he and his mother were waiting for her at the church. She swallowed a groan as she thought of the formidable Mrs. Van Owen II and what she would say. The woman would never forgive her if she ruined Herbert’s wedding. “Stop! I demand you stop this instant!”
Jack ignored her.
