The strength of the jealousy that scythed through her took her so by surprise that Zoe scowled. ‘That’s such a cliché.’
‘I don’t think she particularly minded about that.’
‘Did you?’
His eyes darkened and his expression turned serious. ‘I’m not interested in her. Or anyone for that matter at the moment, apart from you. But like I said, if you really can’t stand the thought of coming with me then I’m sure I’ll be able to manage.’
Zoe bit her lip. Maybe she was slightly overreacting about this. Maybe she was being a bit too uncooperative, a bit too stubborn. OK, so weddings weren’t her favourite way of passing the time, but it wouldn’t be the first she’d ever been to. Couldn’t she get by, the way she usually got by, by going on body language and making sure she thought before she spoke?
Besides, she was trying to get out of her rut, wasn’t she? And hadn’t she originally thought that she should watch and learn and maybe pick up a few interpersonal skills from him? She could hardly do that within the four walls of a bedroom, could she?
And if this was what Dan had meant by changing his ways, then perhaps she ought to support him in his endeavours. And if he was making an effort to overcome his issues, then shouldn’t she?
‘I suppose I could come with you,’ she said eventually. ‘I mean, with all those celebrities floating around no one’s going to be interested in me anyway, are they?’
Some of the tension eased from his body and his mouth curved into the beginnings of a smile. ‘Probably not.’
‘That chief bridesmaid sounds like she could be rather tenacious.’
Dan grimaced. ‘She makes a terrier look like a poodle.’
‘And if anyone asks I could always tell them I’m just using you for sex, I suppose.’
‘That would certainly liven up the proceedings.’
Zoe grinned and, checking that no one could see, reached up to give him a quick kiss. ‘Then I guess I’d better dust off my hat.’
ELEVEN
This might very well be the wedding of the century, thought Zoe, sliding into a pew halfway back on the right and clutching the order of service as she gazed around at all the beautiful people beginning to fill the church. She wasn’t really all that much into celebrity gossip, but already she’d spotted two TV personalities and a supermodel, and given that there were four hundred people at this wedding and the high-profile nature of the Oscar-winning bride and the aristocratic groom, presumably there were dozens more she didn’t have a hope of recognising.
Darkness was already falling outside despite it being only mid-afternoon and hundreds of candles flickered around the cavernous space, casting warmth and shadows everywhere. A huge tastefully decorated Christmas tree stood in the entrance, holly trailed from the window sills, arrangements of spiced oranges sat on every available surface giving off a scent that reminded Zoe of mulled wine.
She sat down and tried to make herself comfortable on the hard oak bench. Talk about diving straight in at the deep end. Here she was at probably the biggest, most spectacular event she’d ever attended and not only did she not know a soul apart from Dan, she was all by herself. As the stag night had been last night he’d driven to Somerset yesterday lunchtime—with some reluctance as he hadn’t wanted to leave her to come alone—while she, having insisted she’d be fine, had hopped on a train first thing this morning, and he’d been so wrapped up in best-man duties that she hadn’t seen him yet.
Logically she ought to be terrified. She ought to be sweating and panicking, swallowing back a bundle of nerves and scouring the place for the nearest exit. But oddly enough she wasn’t.
Perhaps the wobble she’d had last night over supper with her sister had covered it, she reflected, absent-mindedly flicking through the order of service. Lily had been Googling the impending wedding and devouring the gossip surrounding it, and as the enormity of what she’d taken on had sunk in Zoe had begun to hyperventilate. But her sister, who’d clearly been expecting something of the sort, had calmly thrust a paper bag into her hand followed by an enormous glass of wine and talked her down from the ledge. She’d then stayed the night, stuck to her like glue all the way to the station and had practically got on board the train with her.
Perhaps the lack of nerves was down to the fact that Dan seemed to think she could handle it. Or perhaps she was feeling largely all right because she’d been right in her assumption that no one would be interested in her. None of the millions of air-kisses flying around were aimed at her, no one tried to engage her in conversation, and there were none of the speculative sidelong glances that she’d half-anticipated.
Whatever it was, she was feeling surprisingly at ease and actually glad that she hadn’t chickened out, so maybe her self-esteem was on the up after all.
While her head swam slightly at this heady thought something flickered in her peripheral vision, and as her skin began to prickle and her heart began to thump she looked up and was even gladder she hadn’t chickened out because there was Dan. Standing at the top of the aisle with the man she presumed was the groom, looking breath-stealingly handsome and remarkably relaxed for someone who’d previously considered attendance at a family wedding a fate worse than death.
At the sight of him, so tall and upright and gorgeous in a morning coat that emphasised the breadth of his shoulders, her heart lurched and she sighed softly. It had only been forty-eight hours since she’d last seen him but what with the way she was beginning to ache with sheer desire it might as well have been a decade.
His head was bent as he adjusted the cream rose in his buttonhole and she could see him frowning in concentration. Then he went still, and, as if aware of her eyes on him, he turned and looked straight at her. His frown cleared and he gave her a faint smile, and then mouthed a ‘hi’ at her. On the point of melting into a giant puddle of lust, Zoe mouthed a ‘hi’ back while she was still capable of rational thought, and nodded when he seemed to be asking if she was OK.
For a moment she wondered whether he was going to come over, and if he did how she’d be able to refrain from hurling herself into his arms and dragging him off into the vestry. But then his gaze flickered to her left and as the groom muttered something in his ear he shook his head and turned away from her and then disappeared from view.
Feeling oddly cheated by the loss of the sight of him, Zoe took a few moments to realise that it wasn’t just Dan that had disappeared from view. Everything had, and the only thing filling her vision right now was a bright royal blue.
She blinked a couple of times in case her eyes were playing tricks on her but the blue remained. Then it moved, and she lifted her head to see a slim elegant middle-aged woman standing in front of her and looking down at her with avid curiosity.
Zoe’s first thought was that her dark hair and dark eyes were so familiar the woman could only be Dan’s mother.
Her second, more depressing thought was that if only she hadn’t been so wound up by the idea of a wedding of this magnitude she’d have devoted a substantial amount of mental