Once Upon a Wedding / Accidental Princess. Nancy Robards Thompson

Once Upon a Wedding / Accidental Princess - Nancy Robards Thompson


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was short notice, wasn’t it?” Kelsey asked, fiddling with the zipper on her purse. “Yes, but you did it!”

      Kelsey nodded. Thanks to working almost nonstop, she’d pulled off planning the event in a fraction of the time it normally took, but Emily had insisted on a June wedding…hadn’t she?

      Sudden doubts buzzed through her mind like annoying insects, unrelenting and unavoidable. Had Emily pushed for the summer wedding? Or was the idea Charlene’s…or Todd’s? Kelsey had been so focused on getting everything done on time, she hadn’t stopped to wonder about the short engagement. Until now…until Connor had stirred up the hornet’s nest of doubt.

      Connor hung up the phone after ordering breakfast and ran his hands over his face. He hoped the distraction of food would wipe the nightmare from his memory. It wasn’t the first time disturbing images had invaded his sleep.

      The beginning of the dream was always the same. Connor watched his client, Doug Mitchell, arrive at his wife’s apartment through the tunnel-eye view of a telephoto lens; only when he tried to stop the man from attacking his estranged wife, did the dream shift and alter, keeping him off balance, unsure, helpless. Sometimes he froze in place, unable to move a muscle, unable to shout a warning. Other times, he ran through air thick as quicksand, each move bogged down by guilt and regret.

      But no matter how the dream changed, one thing remained the same: Connor never arrived in time to stop Doug.

      A sudden knock at the door jarred the memories from Connor’s thoughts. Undoubtedly the Wilsons had picked the best hotel around for Emily’s reception, but no one’s room service was that fast. Besides, he had an idea who might be on the other side of the door, and it wasn’t the maid with fresh towels.

      Opening the door, he summoned a smile for the woman standing in the corridor. “Morning.”

      Emily Wilson beamed at him, looking like a Hollywood fashion plate of old in a yellow sundress layered beneath a lightweight sweater and a scarf knotted at her neck. “Connor! I’m so glad you’re here. I know I should have called first, but—”

      He waved off her not-quite-an-apology and held the door open. “Come on in.”

      As she breezed into the hotel room and set her handbag next to his laptop, Connor was glad to see the computer logo flashing across the screen. Last thing he needed was for Emily to see the dossier on her fiancé.

      Emily took her time looking around the suite’s miniature living area: a cluster of armchairs and end tables encircling the entertainment center. The added touches of a stone fireplace, balcony overlooking the pool and hot tub spoke of the hotel’s five-star accommodations, but Connor doubted she was impressed. After all, she’d grown up surrounded by luxury and wealth.

      “What are you doing here, Em?”

      “I wanted to see you.” She blushed as prettily now as she had at eighteen, but somehow for Connor the effect wasn’t the same.

      An image of Kelsey flashed in his mind, and he couldn’t help making the comparison between Emily and her cousin. It was the difference between a sepia photograph—all soft, dreamy hues—and a full-color, HD image that instantly caught the eye.

      As a hotheaded teen, Emily had been his unattainable fantasy. But now it was Kelsey and her down-to-earth reality who kept intruding into his thoughts.

      Like yesterday evening, when he’d stood on the balcony and watched to see if the Arizona sunsets were still as amazing as he remembered. As he watched the blazing light slowly fade on the horizon, it wasn’t past evenings that came to mind. Instead he thought of the way sunshine caught the fire in Kelsey’s auburn curls…

      “I snuck out like when we were kids.”

      Emily’s words jarred Kelsey from his mind. He told himself the swift kick in the gut was remembered pain and not anything current or life threatening. But, dammit, he didn’t need the reminder that as far as the Wilsons were concerned, he’d never be good enough. And while Kelsey might not look like her blond-haired, blue-eyed cousins, she was still a Wilson, and some things never changed.

      Judging by Emily’s impish grin, she’d enjoyed reliving her youthful rebellion and the walk down memory lane. Too bad the trip wasn’t so pleasant for him. Feeling his smile take a sardonic twist, he asked, “Still can’t risk being seen with me in public, huh, Em?”

      Her eyes widened in what looked like genuine dismay. “No, Connor! It’s not like that.” She reached out and grasped his arm, and the frantic expression did take him back in time, filling his thoughts with memories of the girl so desperate to make everyone else happy, she’d made herself miserable.

      Relenting slightly, he leaned one hip against the arm of the sofa and reminded her, “We’re not kids anymore, and we’re too old to be sneaking around.”

      “I know.” Fidgeting with her engagement ring, she added, “But I wanted to see you, and I didn’t want…anyone to get upset.”

      “You mean Todd?” Connor asked pointedly.

      “You have to understand, he’s very protective of me. I’m sorry the two of you didn’t hit it off when we met for dinner in San Diego last month.”

      Connor held back a snort of derisive laughter at the irony. No, he and Todd hadn’t hit it off. In fact, at the end of the night they’d nearly come to blows. Connor could admit he hadn’t walked into the restaurant with a totally open mind. It was entirely possible Connor would dislike any man who met with the Wilsons’ approval on principle alone. But within fifteen minutes of meeting Todd Dunworthy, Connor had stopped thinking about the past and started worrying about Emily.

      In that short span of time, Dunworthy bragged about his Scottsdale loft apartment, his top-of-the-line SUV, his various summer homes in exotic ports of call, all of which would have been little more than annoying except for one thing.

      He talked about Emily the same way. She was new and bright and shiny just like the fancy Lexus he drove, and Connor hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that Dunworthy wouldn’t have thought twice about tossing her aside for a newer model.

      And the bad feeling roiling through Connor’s gut like acid ever since he’d been hired by Doug Mitchell got so much worse. Outwardly, Doug and Todd Dunworthy had as little in common as, well, as Connor and Todd did. But from the moment he met Doug, the cold look in the man’s eyes and the way he spoke about his wife set Connor’s teeth on edge, too reminiscent of the way his father had talked about his mother, the bitter blame he’d placed on her for dying and saddling him with an unwanted kid to raise.

      But Connor had set aside his personal feelings and taken the job. Taken the money, his conscience accused. If only he’d listened to his gut then…

      Taking a deep breath, Connor looked out the window, hoping the daylight might dispel his dark thoughts. Only, it wasn’t the sunshine that broke through the shadows, but memories of the sunset, memories of Kelsey, that eased the weight on his chest.

      The spark in her dark eyes, the stubborn jut of her chin, her determination to stand up to him…even if she barely stood up to the height of his shoulder. He didn’t doubt for one second she’d be a formidable opponent, and he was glad to have her on his side.

      Turning his focus back to Emily, he said, “I’m sorry, too, Em.” And he was. He wanted her to be happy, and he was sorry Dunworthy wasn’t the man she—or more important, he suspected, her parents—thought him to be.

      Something in his tone must have given his suspicions away, because Emily’s already perfect posture straightened to a regal, Charlene-like stature. “Todd is a wonderful man,” she insisted. “I love him. I really do, and I can’t wait to be his wife.”

      How many times had Emily repeated that statement before she started believing it was true? The words had a mantralike sound to them. Or maybe more like the punishment meted out by a second-grade teacher: I will not chew gum in class. I will not chew gum


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