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Faith couldn’t figure out how to politely remove her hand from Vale’s mother’s so she left it. Seconds later the groom and his men came to stand at the gazebo and Faith could only stare at Vale, in awe at how handsome he looked in his tuxedo, how tall and confident, how he completely outshone the groom and every other man who’d ever lived.
He took her breath away in his black and white tuxedo. Somewhere in the time since she’d last seen him he’d had a haircut and fresh shave. He came to a stop in his designated place, his hands clasped in front of him, his eyes immediately searching out hers.
When he spotted her, his gaze lingered on hers a moment, then raked over her, taking in her appearance, appreciation glimmering in his eyes when they returned to hers.
“You’re beautiful,” he mouthed, obviously not caring who saw.
Faith blushed, feeling as if she’d just won the lottery.
“So are you,” she whispered back, wondering if he’d be able to read her lips, if he’d see how much she wanted him at that moment, how no one existed for her except him.
One corner of his mouth lifted in a pleased grin and he winked.
Faith’s brain went fuzzy and she couldn’t breathe.
A tight squeeze of her hand had her breaking away from Vale’s gaze to stare half-unseeing at his mother.
“Looks as if we’ll be planning another wedding by Christmas,” she said excitedly, smiling at Faith.
Another wedding?
“Not my wedding. Uh-uh. No way.” She shook her head, knowing that, regardless of how Vale made her feel, she didn’t want to marry him. Never, ever would she set herself up for that kind of failure, that kind of disappointment. Having watched her mother’s heart break time and again, Faith would never go through that. Never. “I don’t want to get married to Vale, or any other man.”
Virginia frowned, but didn’t have a chance to comment as the small orchestra set up along the back of the yard began to play. Bridesmaid after bridesmaid walked up the rose-petal-strewn carpet until the wedding march sounded.
Everyone in the crowd stood, turned to see the bride in all her spectacular glory.
Faith was sure Sharon made a beautiful bride, but her vision had clouded over and she saw another wedding, another bride. Although she tried to choke them back, tears streamed down her cheeks now as they had then. Tears of pain and sorrow. Tears of loss. Tears of knowing her heart would never be complete again.
Her mother’s wedding.
The first of several that had followed over the years.
She never wanted to be like her mother. Yet wasn’t she?
Tears flowed at the realization she wasn’t so dissimilar after all, despite years of walking a straight and narrow path, putting her education, her career before all else. Still, she’d foolishly done as her mother had, doomed herself to wanting a man she’d never really have. Vale.
“Here’s a tissue, dear.” Virginia pushed a clean but wadded tissue paper into her hand. “I came prepared as I always cry at weddings too.”
Embarrassed that she was weeping at a virtual stranger’s wedding, Faith took the tissue, knowing nothing would dry the tears that would flow when Vale broke her heart, as he inevitably would.
Because if he really wanted her he’d have her before the weekend ended and there was nothing she could do to stop him unless she left right this very moment.
CHAPTER SIX
HOW many photos did one need at a wedding? Too many, Vale decided a half-hour after the ceremony had ended and the photographer was still imitating a general on the battlefield. Forcing yet another smile, he held his pose.
He’d had enough and just wanted to go find Faith to see if she was okay.
When the rest of the guests had been looking at Sharon walking down the aisle toward her groom, Vale had been watching Faith, noticed she’d only half turned, had seen the tears in her eyes.
Not tears of joy over the bride-to-be’s happiness, but tears of sorrow and pain. Tears that alluded to past hurts.
Instinctively he knew Faith’s hang-up with weddings had to do with her mother, probably to do with her numerous weddings. Faith had admitted as much without telling him any real details. He’d wanted to ditch his role in the wedding and go to her, comfort her, take her in his arms and kiss her until she never cried again.
Had his mother not turned, handed Faith the tissue, not patted her hand in comfort, not reminded him with a quick meeting of the eyes that he had a duty to Sharon not to ruin her special day, maybe he would have. He certainly hadn’t been thinking of his cousin when he’d spotted Faith’s tears.
All he’d been thinking about had been the woman he couldn’t stop thinking about, the woman he’d watched sleep, wondering what it was about her that fascinated him so. He’d known she was hurting and he’d wanted to go to her.
