Ain’t She Sweet?

“They’re all mad, every one of ’em,” said Rupert with conviction.

GEORGETTE HEYER, Devil’s Cub

Blazes of azalea and dogwood announced the arrival of April. Northern Mississippi had never been more beautiful, but Sugar Beth was miserable. She lived her days in limbo, taking comfort only in the fact that no moving company had appeared to pack up Colin’s things. Sometimes she managed to convince herself that Colin was simply trying to manipulate her and that he’d be back soon. But as one week gave way to another, she began to believe he’d meant exactly what he’d said.

Two weeks after Colin had driven away, Ryan appeared at her door with the news that he’d finally called. “He’s rented a house—he didn’t mention where. He says he’s working round-the-clock to finish his book.”

“What about me? What did he say about me?”

Ryan made a business of examining his car keys. “I’m sorry, Sugar Beth. He said he didn’t want to talk to you yet—maybe when his book is done. And he said to stop harassing his publisher. Oh . . . he asked about Gordon.”

Bloody wanker.

He was manipulating her! A flood of righteous indignation drove away the tears that were so close to the surface these days. She pushed past Ryan, headed for the Lakehouse, and spent the evening dancing with Cubby Bowmar.

Her anger carried her through the next two weeks. And then Reflections hit the stores . . .

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Jewel crowed. “The book hasn’t been out a full week, and I’ve already sold three hundred copies.”

“Hoo-ray,” Sugar Beth said glumly.

Sue Covner regarded Sugar Beth smugly from behind Jewel’s shoulder. “Look on the bright side, Valentine, honey. Not everybody gets to be immortalized in great literature.”

Marge Dailey poked her head out from the inspirationals. “I think you’re holdin’ up pretty well. If it was me, I swear I’d move to Mexico. Although I suppose that’s not really far enough away, still bein’ in North America and all.”

The whole town was laughing its collective ass off.

The book immediately shot to the top of the New York Times best-seller list, and a reporter from USA Today showed up. Although stories about Colin’s mysterious disappearance had begun to appear in the press, the reporter was more interested in searching out the real-life characters from Reflections. The diabolical Valentine was at the top of his Most Wanted list.

“Why, that’s Sugar Beth Carey you’re looking for,” Amanda Higgins said about five seconds after the reporter arrived in town. “Sugar Beth Carey Tharp Zagurski Hooper.”

“You might remember reading about her a few years back,” her husband volunteered. “She was that waitress who married the oil tycoon. Emmett Hooper was his name.”

The story hit the papers twenty-four hours later, and even Tibet wasn’t far enough away to hide.

Early in May, a month after Colin had left, the painting went up for auction, and the J. Paul Getty Museum bought it for a little over three million dollars. Even though Jewel and the Seawillows did their best to celebrate with Sugar Beth, she wanted Colin. More than any one of them, he’d understood what this meant to her. But the fact that he didn’t bother to call with his congratulations added another log to the smoldering pyre of her resentment.

She completed the paperwork for the trust that would ensure Delilah’s care, then flew to Houston to spend a few days with her and take care of other business. Reflections stared back at her from the window of every bookstore she passed. She treated herself to an appointment at the city’s best salon, followed by a shopping spree, but not even fresh blond highlights and a pair of Jimmy Choo stilettos could lift her spirits.

She returned to Parrish late on a Tuesday night, six weeks after Colin’s desertion, tired, lonely, and teary-eyed. Just as she began to turn off her bedside light, the phone rang, and when she answered, she heard a familiar imperious voice. “Where the bloody hell have you been for the last three days?”

Her legs collapsed. “Colin?”

“What other man would be calling you at midnight, pray tell?”

Everything she’d planned to say flew out of her head. “You bastard!”

“Reached you at a bad time, did I?”

“You manipulating bastard!” Everything spilled out, all her anger and frustration. She yelled and cursed until she was hoarse, but when she finally wound down, he only said, “Now, now, my love,” which wound her up all over again.

“I’m not your love! I’m not your anything! You deserted me, you limey prick, and I’ll never forgive you. But I’m glad you left because now I don’t ever have to look at your ugly face again. And guess what? When I told you I loved you, it was a big joke, do you hear me? All this time I’ve been laughing at you behind your back. I don’t love you! The whole thing was a big fat joke!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he replied, not missing a beat. “But since I love you enough for both of us, I’m not too concerned. It’s embarrassing, really, how much I miss you.”

That calmed her down a little.

She abandoned the side of the bed to sit cross-legged on the rug so Gordon, who’d slithered under the bed during her tirade, could emerge and put his head in her lap. Her eyes had started to leak, but she took deep breaths so Colin didn’t know his desertion had turned her into a regular little watering pot. “How could you have left?”

“An animal in pain. That sort of rubbish.” He sounded haughty, vaguely bored, but she knew him too well, and she wasn’t fooled. She’d hurt him, all right, maybe more than he’d hurt her. She leaned down and blotted her eyes on one of Gordon’s ears. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. You know I didn’t.”

He replied with the same jaded tones. “That fact that you couldn’t help yourself only made it more painful.”

“You were right,” she said in a miserably small voice. “I never gave us a chance. I realized it as soon as you drove off.”

“Of course I was right.”

“Could you come back now?”

“Under what terms?”

“This isn’t a business negotiation.”

“Just so we’re clear.”

“I love you,” she said. “I can’t be much clearer than that. But we need to have this discussion in person. Where are you?”

“As to that . . . I’m not quite ready to say.”

She sat a little straighter. “Then why are you calling? What do you want?”

“I want your heart, my darling.”

“You have it. Don’t you know that?”

“And I want your courage.”

She bit her lip. “The courage thing is starting to come together for me. It’s not happening overnight, but I’m getting there. And I don’t want to lose you. I haven’t really thought this through all the way, but it seems to me that Parrish can survive the scandal of two people who love each other living together for a while, don’t you?”

There was a short pause. “That’s what you want, then? For me to come back so we can live together?”

“I know it’s a big step, but I’m tired of being scared—you have no idea—and I’m ready to take that step if you are.”

“I see.”

“You mentioned an engagement. I’m . . . I’m honored, Colin. I know this is just as hard for you as it is for me. This could be our first step.” He didn’t say anything, and she wondered if she’d shot too far ahead. “But if you’re not ready to live together, I understand, and forget about the engagement—it’s way too soon. I’ll move back to the carriage house so you have some room. I won’t push, and I won’t crowd you. I know how that feels. Take all the time you need. Just come back.”

She waited.

“Colin?”

“You still don’t understand, my darling.”

She was perspiring from nerves. “Understand what?”

“I’m returning on our wedding day. Not a moment before.”

“Our wedding day!” She jumped to her feet. Gordon slithered back under the bed.

“I’m sure Winnie and the Seawillows will be more than happy to help with the arrangements, and Ryan can expedite the paperwork.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am.”

“An engagement, yes.” She shot across the room. “After we’ve lived together for a while. But we’re not jumping into marriage. We aren’t prepared.”

“I’m afraid I have to go, Sugar Beth. I need to get back to work. Congratulations on the sale of your painting. I only wish I could have been there to celebrate with you.”

“Don’t you dare hang up! Are you telling me that you’re not coming back unless I agree to marry you?”

“Of course not. That would give you far too much wiggle room. What I’m telling you is that I won’t come back until you’re standing inside the church, at the altar, with all our friends there as witnesses.”

“That’s ridiculous!” She kicked a magazine out of her way. “This isn’t one of your books, Colin. This is real life. People don’t do things like this.”

“But then we’re not ordinary people, are we?”

She’d started to hyperventilate and sank down on the chair. “Use your head. Neither of us can afford another mistake. We have to be sure we’re completely comfortable with each other.”

“I was sure a long time ago. I’m very much in love with you.”

She gripped the phone tighter. “Come home, Colin. Now.”

“And put myself at your mercy again? I’m hardly that foolish.”

“Then how are we going to settle this?”

“Inside a church in front of a minister. Take it or leave it.”

She jumped back up. “I’m leaving it!”

She heard a bored sigh. “Fortunately for you, I’m prepared to be patient for another day or so, which, more than anything else, bears testimony to the depth of my feelings for you.”

“Stop talking like a fop!”

“I’ll check in with Ryan periodically. But—and listen very carefully, my darling—I will not be calling you again. If you were a sane woman, I would, of course, behave in a more rational fashion. Since you are a lunatic, however, this is the only way.”

“You planned this from the beginning, didn’t you?”

“Let’s simply say that you’re not the sort of woman who can be permitted to run amok.”

She clenched her fist. “Colin, please. We have the chance for a future together. Don’t screw it up by making unreasonable demands.”

“How could I screw it up when you’re doing that so very well all by yourself?”

“I’m pregnant! You have to come back right now to take care of me.”

“No, my love, you are not pregnant, and I won’t be manipulated. Now, this conversation has grown tedious beyond belief. I love you with all my heart, and I— Are you crying, my sweet?”

“Yes.” She sniffed. “That’s practically all I’ve done since you left.”

“Truly?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“How splendid.”

And that was that.

Sugar Beth stomped through the house for a few hours, cried some more, and ate her way through two bowls of oatmeal. The next morning she woke up even angrier, grabbed the phone, and hired Bruce Kleinman, Amy’s first boyfriend and the best contractor in town, to start work on the depot. She no longer owed Colin a thing. Right after, she reached Jewel. “Remember when I told you I had this fantasy about opening a children’s bookstore in the depot?”

“I’m hardly likely to forget it. I told you I thought you should do it. You were the one with cold feet, remember? You said you couldn’t do anything permanent because of Colin.”

“That’s not a problem anymore, since I officially hate him. And I hope you meant it about us being partners.”

Sugar Beth pulled the receiver away from her ear to keep Jewel’s celebratory hoots from rupturing her eardrum.

She showered, slipped into a new pair of orange capris along with a sleeveless white shirt and sandals, and called Winnie to bring her up-to-date. Afterward, she set off to meet Bruce at the depot. When they were done, she went to see Jewel so they could discuss their partnership agreement, and following that, she snatched Charlie from his baby-sitter and took him to the park to play. She ended the day with a quick drop-in at Yesterday’s Treasures.

“Jewel’s worried about you,” Winnie said as she entered the store. “I just talked to her on the phone, and she said you refused a Goo Goo Cluster. She thinks I should call an emergency session of the Seawillows to do some triage.”

“Jewel should stay out of the Seawillows’ business,” Sugar Beth retorted. “She laughed in my face when I told her how much we wanted her to join.”

“You probably shouldn’t take it personally.”

“How can I not take it personally? Next to you, she’s my best friend, not to mention my future business partner. And she’s not half as funny as she thinks she is. She said joining the Seawillows was the first step toward putting on a hoop skirt and standing on the front lawn of Frenchman’s Bride waving a parasol and going fiddle-dee-dee.”

Winnie sighed. “This isn’t about Jewel. It’s about you.”

Sugar Beth sank down in an oak farm chair, the emotions of the past two days catching up with her. “Just because a person understands something about herself doesn’t necessarily mean she can fix it.”

“I’m guessing we’re talking about you now.”

“Think about it. A woman who’s always been overweight, for example. She knows exactly what she needs to do to keep off the pounds, but that doesn’t mean she can do it, right?”

“You’ve got a point.”

Sugar Beth pressed her stomach. “Call me crazy, but taking a fourth trip down the aisle doesn’t seem like the best way to fix whatever’s broken inside me.”

“Unless whatever was broken is already fixed.”

“Just thinking about all this is making me queasy. I’ve gotta go.” She grabbed her purse, gave Winnie a peck on the cheek, and made her way out of the store.

The heat had begun to settle in, and as she hit the sidewalk, she slipped on her new sunglasses, a trendy pair of aviators. A man she didn’t know tripped over his feet rubbernecking at her. She was too tired to appreciate the attention.

Gordon greeted her at the door. He’d gotten clingy since Colin left, and she sank down on the tile to give him love, but he was the product of a broken home, and he was too depressed to do more than roll over on his back. Afterward, she made her way to the kitchen, grabbed a carton of strawberry yogurt, and began to pace. Finally, she lay down on the sunroom couch, only to jolt awake a few hours later and begin pacing all over again.

Night settled in, and her agitation grew. By eleven o’clock, she’d worked herself into such a state she couldn’t stand it any longer, so she marched down the street and banged on Winnie’s door.

Her half sister answered in a pair of pajama tops, hair tousled, beard-burn reddening her cheek. Sugar Beth stormed inside. “Can’t the two of you spend just one evening talking like normal people?”

“Don’t take out your sexual frustration on me. What’s wrong?”

“I need to talk to Ryan.”

“He’s asleep.”

“Not for long.” Sugar Beth pushed past her and stalked upstairs. Winnie followed, bitching all the way.

Ryan lay on his stomach, probably naked, although a thin blue blanket covered him from the hips down, so she couldn’t be sure. She punched his shoulder. “Wake up!”

He rolled over, the sheet twisting around him, blinked, and looked past Sugar Beth to his wife, who crossed her arms over her chest and glowered. “She’s your old girlfriend. I barely know her.”

Sugar Beth had started to shake, but she kept her voice low so she didn’t wake Gigi. “Listen to me, Ryan Galantine. When that bastard calls back, you tell him he’s won this round. I’ll marry him. But I don’t take well to being blackmailed, and tell him I intend to spend the rest of my life making him miserable, got that?”

Ryan pushed himself up into the pillows. He looked sleepy but amused.

Sugar Beth bore in. “I mean it. If he wants this marriage so bad, he can have it, but he’d better be prepared to suffer serious consequences.” She spun around, marched past Winnie, stormed down the steps and out the door.

Ryan gazed at his wife. “They deserve each other.”

Sugar Beth refused to have anything to do with the arrangements other than to say she wanted a private ceremony, just Gigi, Ryan, and Winnie as her matron of honor. No one else, not even Jewel or the Seawillows.

Which wouldn’t do as far as Winnie was concerned. She called the Seawillows together, minus Sugar Beth, and even coerced Jewel into attending. Since Leeann didn’t have a baby-sitter, they met around her kitchen table, where Winnie took out a yellow pad and got down to business. “We’ll have to plan the whole thing ourselves. Luckily, Colin’s given us an unlimited budget. He told Ryan he wants the ceremony by next Saturday at the latest, which gives us ten days. He’s afraid she’ll bolt if we wait longer.”

“I’ll make sure the video store hides The Runaway Bride,” Merylinn said. “No sense in giving her ideas.”

“If Colin wants to keep her from running off, why doesn’t he get back here and see to it himself?” Heidi asked.

Winnie gazed down at her yellow pad so she didn’t have to meet their eyes. “He said he had to finish his book first.”

That didn’t set well with any of them. “You’d think she’d be a little more important than finishing a book.” Merylinn sniffed.

“I’ve never understood that man.”

“I hope Sugar Beth doesn’t figure out how far down she is on his priority list.”

“You know how sarcastic he can be,” Jewel said, doing her best to defend him. “Maybe Ryan misinterpreted.”

But a sense of uneasiness undercut the rest of their planning.

Ignoring Sugar Beth’s wishes, Winnie decided on a Saturday evening ceremony at the Presbyterian Church followed by a tent reception on the front lawn of Frenchman’s Bride. With no time to issue formal invitations, Jewel and the Seawillows called everybody they could think of, and by the time they were done, three hundred people had accepted. Sugar Beth went ballistic when she heard. Winnie told her to shut up and find a dress.

Ryan managed the license, and Leeann dragged Sugar Beth to the lab for her blood test. Sugar Beth had no idea how Colin was handling his end of the process, and she was too busy nursing her grievances to care.

On Friday morning, the day before the wedding, a crew arrived at Frenchman’s Bride to erect the tent for the reception, and not long after, a rental van appeared with tables and chairs. Sugar Beth strapped a headset over her ears to shut it all out and spent the day petting Gordon and making plans for her bookstore while an old Pearl Jam CD blared in her ears.

There’d been no time to put together a shower or a bachelorette party, which wasn’t a problem, since Sugar Beth wouldn’t have attended either. The night before the wedding Winnie tried to talk her into staying in the Galantine guest room, but she refused to leave Frenchman’s Bride. This forced Winnie to put her alternate plan in place, and at six o’clock on Friday evening Gigi showed up at the door with three large pizzas, Gwen Lu, Gillian Granger, Sachi Patel, and Jenny Berry.

“Mom said we could have a sleepover here. Everybody wants to hear your power speech. Plus Jenny really needs help with her eye makeup.”

Sugar Beth marched to the phone and called Winnie. “Is this what my life has come to? I’m being guarded by thirteen-year-olds?”

“You’re a little nervous,” Winnie replied. “I decided you needed a distraction.”

“A little nervous! I’ve pegged the Richter scale on nerves! This is all a setup. The final piece in his plan to get revenge. I’ll march down the aisle, and he won’t be there. He’s going to leave me stranded at the altar. I’m telling you right now, he’s not showing up tomorrow.”

“Standing you up at the altar would be overkill,” Winnie pointed out. “He already finished you off when he wrote Reflections.”

Sugar Beth hung up on her.

Winnie proved to be right about one thing. It was impossible to brood with a houseful of thirteen-year-olds demanding her attention. Gigi’s new friends were geeky and awkward, but sweet and funny, too. Someday the Seawillows might need to form a junior auxiliary.

She slept badly that night and rose long before the girls. She came downstairs in an old pair of shorts and one of Colin’s work shirts, with her hair hanging in a ratty tangle and a crease across her cheek. Her wedding day. Again.

After she’d let Gordon out, she disposed of the pizza boxes, then sat at the counter, brooding. Her legs needed shaving, her fingernails were ragged, she’d made no plans to have her hair done, and the only thing she really wanted to do was go back to bed and pull the covers over her head. She let Gordon in and did just that.

Winnie woke everybody up a few hours later. She bustled around the house, full of phony cheer and annoying platitudes. Sugar Beth lunged for the jar of peanut butter, then put it back because her stomach was in no state for food.

Ryan was taking the girls to Denny’s for a late breakfast, then delivering them to their homes to dress for the ceremony. Gigi hugged Sugar Beth before she left. “Don’t worry. You can still claim your power even after you get married. Look at Mom.” And then she startled Winnie by hugging her, too.

After that, Winnie went into hyper drive. “You do have your gown, right? You promised you’d take care of that, and I know you had to buy it off the rack, but you look disgustingly gorgeous in anything.”

“I have it,” Sugar Beth said, “and it’s locked up where you won’t find it.”

“Why can’t I see it?”

“Because it’s a big freakin’ surprise, that’s why! Is Colin here yet?”

Winnie didn’t meet her eyes. “Not as far as I know. But Ryan talked to him. He’ll be here.”

“Yeah, right.” Sugar Beth slapped the counter. “I told you what’s going to happen. He won’t show up. It’s why I didn’t want the entire town invited. But would you listen to me?”

“Of course he’ll show up. He loves you. Now go take a shower. Janice Menken is coming to do your hair at four. You need to be at the church by five-thirty.”

For a moment all of Sugar Beth’s defenses fell away. She gazed at Winnie. “Tell me I’m doing the right thing.”

“I’m sure you are,” Winnie replied, in a way that told Sugar Beth she wasn’t sure at all.

Sugar Beth slammed the barricades back in place. She showered and shaved her legs. Afterward, she permitted Janice Menken to construct an elaborate hairstyle that looked like a wedding cake had landed on her head. She took it apart as soon as Janice left and reconstructed it more simply closer to the back of her head. She refused to wear a veil, and she kept her makeup subtle, with the emphasis on her eyes and only a tawny gloss at her lips. The familiar rituals did nothing to calm her, and she grew even more agitated as various Seawillows kept sweeping in and out to check on her.

None of them had seen Colin, but they were all very certain he was around somewhere.

She decided the less time she spent at the church the better, so she fetched her gown from the attic where she’d hidden it and got dressed in Colin’s closet. Just as she slipped into her shoes, Jewel and Leeann appeared to drive her to the ceremony. They frowned when they saw her gown.

“You’re not really wearing that, are you?” Leeann said.

“It’s my fourth marriage,” Sugar Beth retorted. “What did you expect?”

Jewel shot Leeann a meaningful look. “Winnie said she was in a bad mood.”

“You still look beautiful,” Leeann conceded. “More than beautiful. But Colin’s going to have a fit.”

“Have either of you seen him?”

“He’s probably with Ryan,” Jewel said uneasily.

“Or on his way to South America.” Sugar Beth kissed Gordon good-bye and stomped out to Jewel’s car, her beaded stiletto sandals making lethal clicks on the pavement.

The nostalgic smells of old hymnals, Pine-Sol, and long-forgotten potlucks enveloped her as she entered the back door of the redbrick Presbyterian church. Winnie, stylish in gold silk, waited just inside. Her eyes narrowed with displeasure as she took in Sugar Beth’s dress, but she wisely held her tongue.

“Tell me you’ve seen Colin,” Sugar Beth said as Winnie steered her toward a small anteroom just off the narthex.

“Ryan’s in charge of Colin.”

“So you haven’t seen him.”

“I haven’t had time to look. There was a misunderstanding about the music, and the altar flowers weren’t right, then Gigi glittered her eyelids. Did you teach her to do that? Never mind.” Winnie’s face set in a chipper smile. “We didn’t do anything about something old and something borrowed. You have a new dress and blue eyes, but we need the rest.”

“When it’s your fourth marriage, you tend to lose faith in superstitions.”

“This is your last marriage, and tradition is important.” She reached into her small beaded bag, drew out Diddie’s pearls, and clasped them around Sugar Beth’s neck. “Don’t get attached. I’m taking them back as soon as the reception’s over.”

Sugar Beth touched them with her fingers, and her eyes filled up with tears. “Oh, Winnie . . .” She turned and hugged her sister. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Winnie replied, and promptly burst into tears herself.

The organist began to play the prelude, and they hopped up and down and waved their hands in front of their faces to stop themselves before they ruined their eye makeup. Winnie blew her nose. “Colin’s definitely here. Mrs. Patterson never starts to play until everybody in the wedding party has shown up.”

“She’s hated me ever since my ninth-grade recital when I got to dance the Sugar Plum Fairy instead of her precious Kimmie.”

“Everybody in Parrish isn’t involved in a conspiracy against you.”

“We’ll see.”

The prelude came to an end. Winnie thrust a cascading bouquet of white Casablanca lilies into Sugar Beth’s hands and picked up a smaller bouquet for herself, then drew her out into the narthex. Sugar Beth could only see the last two rows of pews, but even they were filled. “What possessed you to invite so many people?”

“You and Colin are going to be a big part of this community,” Winnie retorted. “Everybody deserves to see you married.”

“If he’s here.”

“Of course he’s here.”

The organ launched into the processional, and Sugar Beth’s teeth began to chatter. “I’m not walking down that aisle until you peek around the corner and make sure he’s there.”

“He has to be. If he weren’t, Ryan would—”

“I don’t want to hear another word about Ryan!” she hissed. “Your husband has reason to hate me, too. He’s probably in on the whole thing.”

“True.” Winnie lifted her bouquet. “And then there’s me.” With those ominous words, she stepped around the corner and disappeared down the aisle.

The music swelled. Sugar Beth straightened her shoulders and fought her fear. As she made her way around the corner, the congregation rose, temporarily blocking her view of the altar. She clutched the bouquet more tightly, her palms sweaty. Four husbands! What kind of fool got married for the fourth time?

A sea of faces turned toward her, three hundred of them, but not the one she most needed to see. Until she took her place at the end of the aisle . . . There he was, with Ryan at his side, both men dressed in black tuxedos. Colin wore his as comfortably as other men wore jeans. The tucked white shirt gleamed against his tan face, which was thinner and more angular than when she’d last seen him. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who’d had trouble eating. The knowledge gave her just enough indignant satisfaction to propel her down the aisle.

Colin’s heart swelled as he watched Sugar Beth approach him. She was dressed entirely in black. He chuckled, and for the first time in nearly two months, he began to relax.

Her gown was beautiful despite its color. Long, slim, and strapless, it had diagonal panels of tiny black beads that grew wider as they reached the hem. She floated toward him, exquisite in form, countenance, and movement, her blond hair and smooth white shoulders rising from the gown like foam from a stormy sea. The brittleness she’d worn like a second skin when she’d first come to Parrish had broken away. She was softer, more exquisite, more precious to him than he’d ever imagined, but the perilous flash of silver in those pale blue eyes reminded him of what a dangerous game he’d been playing. And it wasn’t over yet.

She stopped at his side and passed over the bouquet to Winnie. He took her hands. They were cold as ice, but his weren’t much warmer.

The ceremony began. He’d have preferred writing his own vows, ones that spoke more personally to the depth of his feelings for this magnificent woman, but then she would have had to write hers, too, and he hadn’t trusted her not to curse. Browbeating her was the only way he’d known to slay the dragon that had held this princess as a prisoner for far too long. They belonged together, and he’d been determined to put her out of her misery as quickly as possible.

The minister’s voice broke into his thoughts. Pastor Daniels was a traditionalist, and it hadn’t occurred to him that he should modify the ceremony.

“Who gives this woman to be wedded to this man?”

There was a long pause. The congregation began to stir uneasily. Colin frowned. Ryan smiled and stepped forward. “I do.”

The pastor came to his senses after that and quickly deleted the speak now or forever hold your peace part, which would surely have sent people hopping to their feet all over the place.

The vows followed. Sugar Beth spoke hers flatly, almost angrily. He understood. She’d lost faith in vows, and this particular ceremony held a lot of unhappy memories for her. Still, it had to be done.

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, something to be endured rather than cherished. She had a ring for him, which was a surprise, a simple white gold wedding band. He slipped a perfect two-and-a-half-carat diamond on her finger. She wasn’t a woman for subtlety.

More vows and the pronouncement. “You may kiss the bride.”

He gazed down at her and, as he drew close, whispered against her lips, “Don’t bite.”

She didn’t. But she didn’t really kiss him back either.

Ryan and Winnie whisked them to Frenchman’s Bride for the reception. The white tent had billows of net at the entrance and a swagged ceiling. Crisp linens draped with sheer gold overskirts covered the tables, each of which displayed a trailing centerpiece of lilies, hyacinths, and ivy. Long serving tables held platters of lobster tails, crab claws, and shrimp, along with an assortment of hot and cold dishes. He couldn’t imagine how Winnie and the Seawillows had managed to do all this so quickly or how he would ever thank them properly. There was no band, no dancing. Winnie knew he and Sugar Beth needed to get through this reception as quickly as possible so they could be alone. He watched Sugar Beth bypass a tower of chocolate-dipped cream puffs for the relish tray. He frowned.

The guests seemed to have entered into a conspiracy to protect him because no one suggested he and Sugar Beth stand still for wedding photographs, and not a single person tapped a knife on a water goblet to encourage them to kiss. When it came time for the wedding cake to be cut, Winnie jumped up with a panic-stricken expression and said she and Ryan would do the honors. Only Cubby Bowmar seemed disappointed that he wouldn’t get to see Colin’s face decorated with vanilla fondant.

Sugar Beth spent most of the reception with either the Seawillows or Gigi and her teenage friends. Finally, Winnie drew her away to throw her bouquet, and Sugar Beth aimed right for Jewel, which he thought was a nice touch. No one mentioned a garter ceremony.

As it came time to leave, Winnie retrieved the pearls Sugar Beth had been wearing. “You can’t take them back!” his outraged wife exclaimed. “That’s what I want for my wedding present.”

“Forget it. I have more important plans for these.” Winnie kissed her cheek and slipped the pearls into her bag. “Your present will be waiting when you get back from your honeymoon.”

“What honeymoon?”

Winnie pushed her toward Colin.

Eventually, he was able to get her to his car, which had been decorated with white streamers and a sign on the passenger door that read 4th Timz the Charm. Rice flew. Merylinn stuffed Sugar Beth into the front seat. Heidi threw her overnight case in the back. Someone triggered an air horn. And then they were off.

The interior of the car grew tomblike. Sugar Beth stared straight ahead. Colin tried to think of something to say, but he hadn’t slept well in weeks. Most nights he’d stayed at his computer till dawn, caught a few hours of rest, then gotten up and begun to write again. Except for a weekly trip to a convenience store, he’d seen no one. He’d forgotten to shave, forgotten to eat. Occasionally he’d subjected himself to brutal day-long hikes in the desert, hoping the exertion would wear him out enough so he could sleep for more than two hours at a stretch, but it seldom worked. He’d had no taste for food, no taste for much of anything except writing and torturing himself with thoughts of Sugar Beth.

They passed the Quik Stop, and she finally broke the silence. “What honeymoon?”

“I considered the Virgin Islands, but for now I think it’s better if we just head to the lake. Amy and Clint have given us their cottage for the night. Why were you eating cauliflower?”

Her gown gave an angry rustle. “Tell me where you’ve been for two months.”

“A little adobe house I rented outside Taos. Three rooms near an aspen grove. Simple but serviceable.”

“You look tired. And you’ve lost weight.”

He heard concern in her voice—a chink in the armor of her resentment—and his fatigue instantly vanished. “I’m exhausted. Tired to the bone.” He gave a weary sigh and studied her reaction through the corner of his eye. “It’s been an extraordinarily difficult two months. I haven’t been well at all.”

“Probably suffering from overacting disease.”

He smiled and turned his head to drink in that perfect face. “Do you hate it so very much? Being married to me?”

Her eyes flashed. “We didn’t even sign a prenup! And I’m a wealthy woman.”

“Are you worried, then?”

“Of course I’m worried! I just got married for the fourth time! But I’ve never had a lick of common sense, so why should I be surprised.”

“You have a great deal of common sense, not to mention an exquisite body . . . which I intend to enjoy to the fullest as soon as possible.”

“Good, because sex is the only reason I’m going along with this.”

“I understand.”

They remained silent for the rest of the trip to the lake. She seemed resigned, if not overjoyed, and the atmosphere no longer felt quite so oppressive, but he knew he wasn’t out of the woods yet. He carried her case inside the cottage—his was already there—and wasted no time drawing her toward the bedroom. She came to a dead stop just inside the door. “Oh, my.”

Mountains of fresh flowers and masses of white pillar candles occupied every corner of the gray and white bedroom. Music played softly in the background, and in a particularly nice touch, the covers on the bed had been turned down to display white rose petals scattered across the pale gray sheets. Even the draperies over the wall of windows that faced the lake had been drawn. Amy’s mother had followed his directions to the letter.

“Dreadfully excessive,” he sniffed. “These Southerners.”

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“Well, if you think so . . .” The candlelight caught the black beads of her gown, and her skin looked iridescent, as if it had been dusted with crushed opals. “I have a wedding present for you,” he said.

“I have a present for you, too.”

“If it ticks, I’m calling the police.”

She smiled. His muscles relaxed enough for him to cross the room and retrieve a thick sheaf of papers tied with a red bow from his overnight case. As he handed it to her, he wished he’d had more to drink at the reception. “I . . . didn’t finish until yesterday, so there wasn’t time for a fancy gift wrap.”

Sugar Beth gazed at him and realized he was nervous. The knowledge gratified her more than anything else that had happened that day, and the final layers of her resentment began to peel away at the corners. She sank into the room’s only chair and gazed down at what he’d handed her. “You finished your book.”

“Very late last night.”

He’d dedicated it to her. That must be his surprise. She smiled to herself and pulled at the lopsided red bow he’d wrapped around the manuscript. He shifted his weight, cleared his throat. His agitation warmed her even more. And then she gazed down at the title page. Her breath caught in a tiny gasp.

A Love Story for Valentine

by

COLIN BYRNE

“Oh, my . . .” A thousand questions sprang to her mind. Her voice, when she finally rediscovered it, sounded thin and faint. “But . . . what happened to your other book?”

“This needed to be written first.”

She ran her fingers over the title page, and the hard knot of fear she’d been carrying inside her for longer than she could remember dissolved. In its place she felt a deep-rooted sense of peace. A man who would do this for the woman he loved was a man for the ages. Her smile wobbled at the corners. “When male authors write love stories, the heroine tends to end up dead.”

“Not this time, I assure you.” His voice was no steadier than hers. “I’ll never be able to hold up my head in literary circles again.”

“Oh, Colin . . .” She drew the manuscript to her breasts, and her eyes filled with tears. The remnants of her fear fell away as she gazed into the eyes of her fourth and last husband. “I do love you, my darling.”

“That’s what I’ve been counting on.”

He set aside the manuscript and pulled her to her feet where he began taking the pins from her hair one by one. As it tumbled down, he kissed her neck, her shoulders, whispering sonnets of love that grew earthier and more explicit as their clothes fell away.

“You’re exquisite,” he whispered as he laid her in the rose petals. She ran her hands over his body, reacquainting herself with its hard slopes and muscled ridges. He found other petals, soft and moist, plump with need, fragrant with desire, and she grew wild with need. Wilder still when he finally entered her and she saw the emotion burning in his eyes.

“I love you,” he whispered. “I love you so, my darling.”

She whispered her own love words in return, and the sweet storm swept them up.

The next morning Sugar Beth propped herself on her elbow and gazed at her sleeping husband. He’d worked hard last night, making love with her until they were both exhausted. Resisting the urge to wake him, she slipped out of bed and pulled on a pair of panties along with his tuxedo shirt. In the kitchen she found Gordon, a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice, and a basket of warm muffins. No woman had better friends than she did, and as soon as she got the chance, she intended to throw them a bridal shower in reverse.

She drank a glass of juice and gave Gordon some love, but left him behind as she made her way through the rear sliders and down to the lake. The early-morning sun sparkled on the extravagant diamond her husband had given her. He didn’t want her to forget she was married, as if she could. She smiled, and a sense of peace flowed through her in a deep, quiet stream. Forever was a long time for love to last, but when it came to Colin Byrne, forever felt exactly right.

“Bored with me already?”

She turned to watch her husband coming toward her, his bare feet leaving tracks in the dew-soaked grass, Gordon trotting at his side. Colin wore jeans and a white T-shirt, all gorgeous and sloppy—unshaven, rumpled, munching on a muffin, and as he kissed her, she tasted banana-nut crumbs, toothpaste, and sex.

“Not bored at all.” She smiled and brushed his cheek. “I’ve been thinking about my wedding present.”

“I put my heart on every page,” he said so sweetly she would have teared up all over again if she hadn’t needed to do something else first.

“Not that present,” she managed. “My present to you. I hope you like it because I can’t take it back.”

“It’s impossible to imagine returning anything you’ve given to me.”

“Hold on to that thought.”

And then she told him.

He looked stunned.

She wasn’t surprised. She’d needed time to adjust, too.

Eventually, he recovered enough to ask a few questions. Then he started kissing her again, but just when their breathing got heavy, he broke away. “I’m sorry, my darling. I know it’s our honeymoon, but . . .” He removed his hand from her bottom with the greatest reluctance. “Would it be possible for you to entertain yourself for an hour? Two hours at the most?”

“You’re deserting me now?”

“Ordinarily I wouldn’t think of it, you understand, but in light of your amazing news . . .” He gazed down at her, his heart shining in his eyes. “I’m feeling a pressing need to write an epilogue.”