Anna stepped away from the crowd a few feet and beckoned Stef to follow. In the foyer between the staircase and the living room, the other woman leaned close. “I know who you are,” she whispered with a smile. “It took me a while to place you and then I realized where I’d seen your photo. The Dallas Duchess.”
“Oh?” Stefanie maintained a neutral expression and tone even as her heart ratcheted up a few notches. That damn blogger.
“What made you decide against a massive wedding in the summer packed with famous guests? Also, I thought you’d be marrying Blake Eastwood. Does your family know you’re not?”
Stefanie squirmed at Anna’s forwardness and rapid-fire questions.
“I haven’t said anything to anyone, and I won’t,” Anna promised. “But if you don’t mind my asking, why are you in Harlington marrying Emmett when that Blake guy said you were his?”
Stef had fielded rumors a million times, but never face-to-face to a nosy woman with zero tact.
“Simple,” interrupted a deep, rumbling voice. “Blake’s a liar.”
Anna started at Emmett’s arrival, her mouth gaping. Stef wanted to kiss him for his fantastic timing.
“I need to borrow my bride.” He scooped Stefanie into his arms and the small crowd reacted with approving gasps.
“We saved ourselves for the wedding night,” he announced. “We’re skipping the toast.”