Wedding Captives. Cassie Miles
The fiberglass gondola car seemed modern enough in spite of giant cog-wheel machinery that, to Thea, smacked of a medieval torture device. She eyed the steel cable from which the gondola car was suspended. Was it strong enough to hold the weight of several people? She was not only not fond of heights, she was a card-carrying acrophobe.
Evil boy cousins had stranded her in the rafters in her Uncle Harry’s barn when Thea was only five, while her brothers had laughed till they hurled—and she’d never, ever gotten over it. She was good at pretending she had—so far as she knew, no one had ever guessed what a chicken she was—but she couldn’t fool herself.
She absolutely expected the gondola ride to be the worst part of her weekend. For Jenny, she would do it.
She left her luggage and went outdoors again, barely making tracks across the crusted, deep-packed snow, angling for the best view of the castle to distract herself from the only possible approach. She hadn’t dared try to get a glimpse of the castle from the road. The driving had consumed her white-knuckled attention.
Above the snowplowed parking area carved out of the surrounding forest, she peered across the deep, wide chasm. Through gathering storm clouds, she saw thick stone towers rising on either end of a large main structure. Gothic battlements strangely complemented the Moorishstyle arched windows and gables from yet another era. The delightfully eclectic, bizarre architecture bespoke a fascinating history. Jenny inevitably went into raptures describing the castle.
Another vehicle finally pulled into the parking lot below the gondola house. From her vantage point, Thea stared curiously at the four-wheel-drive van. The wedding party was supposed to be small, but Jenny had been dropping gleeful hints about some of the other invited guests. Thea even suspected an attempt at matchmaking. She wasn’t really looking for a boyfriend, but a weekend in a castle might be the perfect time and place for a wonderful romantic assignation.
A tryst.
Thea shook her head at herself, careening from pillar to post, dread and certain panic over the gondola to flights of romantic fantasy.
Strangers to her, an attractive couple of about her own age emerged from the van. Then, the rear door slid open, and a third passenger climbed out. A man. A tall, broad-shouldered man.
Spence Cannon.
A shiver gripped her…was it an acute, terrible loneliness? Recognition? Or only the cold?
She hadn’t laid eyes on the man who’d once asked her to marry him in over five years. She clapped her chattering teeth tightly together. He looked good. Fine, really…fine. Annoyingly so, she snapped at herself. His sun-streaked hair fell rakishly across his forehead. From this distance, she couldn’t see his deep-set blue eyes at all, but she knew that his expression would be cool and outrageously condescending. She’d thought, all those eons ago when she still believed she was going to conquer the world herself, that the combination of cool and condescending was sexy, an invitation, a dare.
She’d fooled herself every day she and Spence were together. Twice on Sunday. And that was a conservative estimate.
She turned back toward the Castle and glared. Damn you, Jenny. How could Jenny think Thea ever wanted to see Spence again? Whatever they’d shared, even if she’d called it love, had been cold, dead ashes for a long time, swept under a carpet and ground to infinitesimal dust. Her pride would never allow their relationship to be rekindled, even if her sanity went on holiday.
She tried to tell herself that the memory of their breakup didn’t hurt anymore, but it obviously did. Pain like a bolt of lightning stabbed somewhere near the center of her forehead. Almost blinded, she recoiled, retreating into the shadow of the trees, hiding herself like a scared rabbit.
A momentary urge seized her to leave this desolate mountaintop. To gather up her grotesque bridesmaid dress and run, not walk, back to the safety of her Denver town-house and her two cats.
Coward! She’d been looking forward to this long weekend, and she wouldn’t let Spence ruin it. She could handle him.
She could be strong. She’d done it once. Five years ago, she’d been the one to call off their engagement and return his diamond ring. Very tough, very brave, utterly lonely. She’d sat home alone, night after night, staring at the telephone like one of her boy-smitten middle-schoolers, praying for the boy to call. Futilely waiting on the reconciliation call that never came.
She could be strong.
She peeked out from behind a tree trunk. Damn you, Spence. Why did he have to look so good?
TODAY WOULD BE either the best or the worst day of Spence Cannon’s life. He hated the uncertainty.
“Come on!” his friend Emily called out. “Let’s take a good look at this place.”
Spence really couldn’t have cared less about the so-called castle. His decision to accept Jenny’s wedding invitation was based entirely on the fact that he knew Thea Sarazin would be there. He wanted another chance with her.
“Look at the gondola house! With a coat of arms, no less. That’s fairly pretentious!” Emily charged up the path with the agility of a mountain goat, then she whirled and embraced her new husband, Jordan Shane. “Doesn’t it make you think of knights in shining armor and princesses and jousts?”
“Looks cold,” Jordan said.
“That’s the fun part.” Her voice lowered to a purr. “We’ll share bodily warmth to keep warm.”
Spence joined them. “Give it a rest, Emily. All this newlywed joy is making me hyperglycemic.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
Thea’s car, he thought, glancing back at the only other vehicle in the snowplowed lot. That had to be Thea’s car. He was distracted, all right. He couldn’t explain the combination of excitement and dread he felt about seeing her again. Being with her.
It had been over five years since he’d heard her calm, clear voice. Or reduced calm-and-clear to a throaty cry of pleasure. Or seen her heart-shaped face, or traced its shape with his lips. But he remembered, vividly, the startling depths in her hazel eyes and the silky texture of her chestnut hair falling through his fingers.
So many nights since, he’d wakened with the scent of her musky perfume lingering in the dark around him. In dreams, he knew the indescribable softness of her inner thigh, the sweet fullness of her breasts, the taste of her lush ripe lips. And then, those lips would speak, and she’d tell him she never wanted to see him again. Never.
No compromise.
Not ever.
His friend, Emily, joined him on the path. “You look sad, Spence. Want to talk about it?”
“Thea is the one who broke up with me,” he muttered. “I’m the one who should expect an apology. Right?”
“It depends. Why did she end the relationship?”
He shrugged. “She thought I betrayed her.”
“With another woman?”
“Hell, no. I’d never do anything like that.”
“What was it?” Emily asked. “What did you do?”
“It’s complicated.” He didn’t like talking about relationships, facing the fact that he’d made a mistake and put his career ahead of Thea’s needs. Had he been in the wrong? Possibly. Was he sorry? Definitely. “I want her back.”
He shoved open the door to the gondola house. Would she be inside, waiting for him? Would she forgive him? The interior of the stone house was about as cold and empty as her heart the last time they were together, but there on the stone bench he saw her luggage.
He dropped his overnight bag on the flagstone floor. Nothing about the place boded well, save Thea’s luggage.
Emily and Jordan spilled inside behind him. “Too bad we’re not invited to the wedding. I