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She was nervous, that was all. And that was normal. Everybody said so, from the seamstress who’d put a couple of quick darts into her ivory satin gown to the stylist who’d plaited tiny pink tea roses into her hair. Even Carrie, her maid of honor, had said the same thing when she saw Jessie’s hands trembling.
“Butterflies,” Carrie had assured her. “All brides have them.”
Where was Carrie, anyway? How long could it take to look for a bridal bouquet? Jessica glanced at the platinum-and-diamond watch William had given to her last night at the rehearsal dinner. “Something new,” he’d said softly. The “something old” was the emerald-and-diamond engagement ring on her finger, which had belonged to his mother and grandmother.
The watch had caught her completely by surprise.
“Oh, it’s too much,” she’d blurted when she opened the long blue box and saw the wink of diamonds. William had laughed, kissed her gently and said that nothing was too much where she was concerned.
“I love you, Jess,” he’d said softly.
Jessica swallowed dryly. She loved him, too. Her fiancé was a kind, generous, wonderful man and she was the luckiest woman in the world, and yes, the day really was going to be perfect…if she could just stop trembling.
“Butterflies,” Jessie whispered to her image in the mirror. “All brides have them.”
Was that true? She didn’t know much about brides, perhaps because she’d never thought she’d be one, not after watching her mother endure a marriage to a man who’d made a mockery of the word. Jessie’s father had been a handsome rogue. He couldn’t stay in one place for very long or, as it turned out, be faithful to one woman, but her mother had adored him anyway.
Jessie grew up knowing she’d never be that kind of fool. Why would a woman have to be blinded by passion to fall in love? Love could be something that happened slowly and gently. That was the best way, the way that would last.
She smiled.
That was the way she’d fallen in love with William.
She’d worked for him for almost a year before he’d asked her out and even then, she’d turned him down. She knew that dating your boss was never a good idea, but he’d been gently persistent and, at last, after a late night at the office, she’d agreed to dinner. Saying no under those circumstances would have been silly. Soon they’d begun spending all their time together. When he’d proposed, saying yes had been the most natural thing in the world.
Now she was less than an hour away from becoming Mrs. William Thornton the Third. It was hard to believe it was happening.
One man, one exchange of vows, for the rest of her life. Maybe it wasn’t fashionable to believe in forever-after anymore, but Jessie did. It worried her a little that she’d never yet wanted more than William’s tender good-night kisses, but she was sure that would change. Given time, her skin would tingle when he touched her. Just looking at him would make her breathless. She’d feel the way she’d felt last night, when she’d first laid eyes on Liam Malone.
Jessie took a step back, felt the bed hit behind her knees and sank down on the edge of it.
“Oh, God,” she whispered, and shut her eyes as if she could block out the memory. What was she doing, thinking about another man on her wedding day? She hadn’t even been looking forward to meeting Liam. William had talked about him endlessly, until she’d been weary of hearing the name and the stories that went with it. How Liam traveled the world. How he made fortunes and lost them on the turn of a card. How he went through women. She’d been appalled by some of the stories, fascinated by others and aware, almost immediately, that her sweet, sensible William was wistfully envious of Liam’s free and easy life.
She’d come up with a picture to go with the tall tales. Liam would be sexy as sin, gorgeous as the devil and twice as persuasive. In other words, he’d be the kind of man she most disliked.
As it turned out, she’d gotten it almost all right. The rehearsal dinner had been in full swing; William had been holding her hand and telling her how happy they were going to be. Suddenly he’d dropped her hand, leaped from his chair and said, “Liam, my man, you made it!” She’d looked up and there, in the doorway, she’d seen Liam Malone for the very first time, exactly as she expected: tall, broad shouldered, with a handsome face, a shock of silky black hair and emerald-green eyes.
What she hadn’t expected was the jolt of electricity that slammed through her when those green eyes met hers. Her heart had gone into overdrive and a pervasive heat had slipped under her skin. She’d felt all the reactions she’d sworn she’d never feel for any man, and she’d felt them for her fiancé’s best friend.
She’d wanted to bolt from her chair and run. Instead, she’d torn her eyes from Liam’s, stared blindly down at the table, and hoped, prayed, that the floor would open up and swallow her.
“Jessica, sweetheart,” she’d heard William say, and she’d forced herself to look up and smile. William had his arm slung around Liam’s shoulders and he was smiling, too, but Liam hadn’t smiled at all. He’d just watched her through narrowed eyes set in a face that might have been chiseled from granite.
Somehow she’d stood up, said all the right things, extended her hand and tried not to jump at the tiny spark that leaped from Liam’s fingers to hers.
“Static electricity,” she’d said with a forced laugh.
“Indeed,” Liam had replied, and the slightest smile had curved his mouth, a smile that said he knew exactly what she was feeling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Jessica.”
And that had been the end of it.
Jessie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
What was the matter with her? That had been the end of it. The moment had come and gone. Liam pulled up a chair, William settled in beside her again, and she’d listened while the two friends talked about old times. Her gaze had met Liam’s once again but she’d looked quickly away and, before she knew it, the evening ended. Come stay with us, William had said, and she’d found herself fearing the answer, but Liam had thanked him politely, said he already had found a place and went off to wherever it was.
“A hostel, for all I know,” William had said cheerfully, “or a penthouse. It depends on whether his luck’s been good or bad.”
Good, Jessie thought now, remembering the expensive cut of Liam Malone’s gray suit. Or maybe bad, considering the longer-than-it-should-have-been, black-as-midnight hair that curled over his collar. She thought, too, of what William had told her, that Liam liked to gamble. Poker was his specialty, William said, but Jessie knew that women would be Liam Malone’s specialty, women who were willing to trade one night in his bed for a lifetime of hot memories.
