Amber's Wedding. SARA WOOD
face with its wickedly expressive mouth and come-to-bed eyes. No, she couldn’t dance with him, let alone look as if she’d die for him. Nor did she want to go back to the cottage with him. Caught between a rock and a hard place...
To her dismay she began to cry.
‘Oh, darn it!’ she mumbled furiously.
‘You’re in an emotional mess, aren’t you? I thought this might happen,’ Jake said sympathetically. He lifted her hand from where it clutched the dressing table and watched it trembling limply, dwarfed by his large palm. She hoped that he hadn’t seen how white her knuckles were. ‘You’re exhausted,’ he said with a frown. ‘I think you ought to call it a day. You’ve got a lot ahead of you yet.’
Amber scowled at the ominous prediction. ‘You’d be exhausted,’ she said sulkily, ‘if you’d been fighting off nausea for the last few hours.’
Abandoning her hand, he came to stand behind her and lightly rested his fingers on her tense shoulders. Amber gritted her teeth because she wanted to risk throwing her arms around him. Their eyes met in the mirror and she watched his frown deepen.
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