Wedding Wishes: A Wedding at Leopard Tree Lodge

She felt for the top of the door, carefully hung the dress over it, then got down on her knees and felt around until she’d found his leg. Warm, strong…

‘Careful where you’re putting your hand,’ he warned as she edged forward and she jerked it away.

‘What happened?’ she repeated. ‘Did you fall? Have you hurt your head?’

‘No and no. I bent to pick up my bag so that I could pack and my back seized again.’

‘You are such an idiot.’

‘I’ve been lying here for hours just waiting for you to tell me that. Where the hell have you been?’

‘Doing my job. Talking to the chef, discussing arrangements with David, counting tablecloths.’

Putting off the moment when she’d have to face him, apologise.

‘Vital work, obviously,’ he replied.

‘It’s what Celebrity is paying me for. Nursemaiding you isn’t part of the deal,’ she snapped. Then, not sure whether she was more furious with herself or with him, ‘Damn it, Gideon, I came back ready to apologise, play nice and you’ve set me off again.’

‘Play nice?’ he repeated, with a soft rising inflection that suggested all manner of pleasurable games. ‘Well, that’s more like it.’

In the darkness, with no visual stimulus, his low, gravelly voice was enough to send a sensuous curl of heat winding through that hidden central core that she kept locked away. Just as his eyes had lit up her body when she’d come face to face with him that morning. As his touch had seduced her into a reckless kiss.

Every part of him seemed to touch her with an intimacy that effortlessly undermined her defences.

Control…Control…

‘Are you in pain?’ she asked, summoning up her best ‘nanny’ voice, the one she kept for panicking brides, weeping mothers-of-the-groom and pageboys intent on mayhem. Determinedly ignoring the seductive power of his voice. Blocking out feelings that she couldn’t handle.

‘It’s getting better. Isn’t lying on a hard surface supposed to be therapeutic? Maybe bringing me down was my back’s way of telling me what it needs.’

‘Smart back. Maybe you should sleep down here,’ she suggested.

‘Is that your best offer?’

‘Oh, shut up. I’ll light the candles,’ she said, shuffling back the way she’d come so that she could move around him. She misjudged his length, caught his foot with her knee.

‘Ouch!’

‘Sorry…’

She backed off carefully, crawled towards the bed, banged her head against the wooden frame. ‘Ouch!’

Gideon began to laugh.

‘It’s not funny!’

‘No. Sorry…’

That was enough to set her off and, as he peppered his laughter with short scatological expletives each time he jarred his back, she broke down and, helpless with laughter, collapsed beside him, provoking another, ‘Ouch!’

For a moment the two of them lay, side by side in the dark, trying to recover. It took an age for her to smother the outbreaks of giggles, but every time she said ‘Sorry’ it set them both off again. Then his hand found hers in the dark and all desire to laugh left her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Some brides want to include a much-loved dog, pony or other animal as part of their big day. This can be a challenge…

—The Perfect Wedding by Serafina

March

‘THAT’S better. Are you okay?’ Gideon asked as she hiccupped and gasped as she tried to get her breath back.

‘I th-think s-so.’ No question. Infinitely better. She’d had no idea that a man holding your hand could make you feel so safe. ‘You?’

‘A lot better than I was ten minutes ago.’ She felt, rather than saw, him move his head and she knew that he was looking at her. ‘They do say laughter is the best medicine.’

‘That would be why you were swearing so much.’

‘Sorry…’

‘Don’t!’ she warned and Gideon’s hand tightened as, for a moment, neither of them dared to breathe. When, finally, Josie was certain that she was safe from another fit of the giggles, she said, ‘I’d better light the candles.’

‘No hurry. This is good.’

Before she could react, the bell rang at the foot of the steps, and then a dark figure appeared in the open doorway.

‘Rra?’

‘We’re here, Francis. Give us some light, will you?’

‘Are you hurt, Rra?’ he asked as he lit the candles and the room filled with soft light. ‘Oh, madam, you are here too. Can I help you?’

‘Just see to the nets, Francis,’ Gideon said. ‘We’re fine where we are.’

Nets?

Josie watched Francis unfasten them from the bedposts and spread them out so that they turned the bed into a gauzy cloister. Her turn to let slip an expletive. She’d thought they looked romantic, but they were mosquito nets.

‘Is there anything I can bring you? Rra, madam?’

‘A large single malt whisky for Miss Fowler and a bottle of mineral water for me, Francis. And I’m sure Miss Fowler would welcome something to nibble on. It’s a long time since she had lunch.’

‘Yes, Rra.’

‘A long time since lunch?’ she challenged, the minute he’d gone. ‘I didn’t have any lunch. And the monkey ate my breakfast. It’s no wonder I nearly passed out on you.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll share.’