Gift-Wrapped in Her Wedding Dress, page 17
She suspected Dominic’s other private philanthropic work would eventually be discovered—probably by the digging of this same journalist. But, with the support of her love and the encouragement of Walter Burton, she thought he was in a better place to handle the revelations of his past if and when they came to light.
Dominic had invited her for a special dinner at his house this evening, though they’d had dinner together every evening since Christmas—and breakfast. She hadn’t been here for the last few days; rather, he’d stayed at her place. She didn’t want to move in with him until they were married.
But he’d said they had to do something special this evening as they wouldn’t be able to spend New Year’s Eve together—December the thirty-first would be the Party Queens’ busiest night yet.
She was looking forward to dinner together, just the two of them. It was a warm evening and she wore a simple aqua dress that was both cool and elegant. Even though they were now engaged for real, they were still getting to know each other—there was a new discovery each time they got the chance to truly talk.
As she climbed the stairs to his house, she heard the sounds of a classical string quartet playing through the sound system he had piped through the house. Dominic had good taste in music, thank heaven. But when she pushed open the door, she was astounded to see a live quartet playing in the same space where the ill-fated Christmas tree had stood. She smiled her delight. It took some getting used to the extravagant gestures of a billionaire.
Dominic was there to greet her, looking darkly handsome in a tuxedo. She looked down at her simple dress in dismay. ‘I didn’t realise it was such an occasion or I would have worn something dressier,’ she said.
Dominic smiled. ‘You look absolutely beautiful. Anyway, if all goes well, you’ll be changing into something quite different.’
She tilted her head to the side. ‘This is all very intriguing,’ she said. ‘I’m not quite sure where you’re going with it.’
‘First of all, I want to say that everything can be cancelled if you don’t want to go ahead with it. No pressure.’
For the first time she saw Dominic look like he must have looked as a little boy. He seethed with suppressed excitement and the agony of holding on to a secret he was desperate to share.
‘Do tell,’ she said, tucking her arm through the crook of his elbow, loving him more in that moment than she had ever loved him.
A big grin split his face. ‘I’m going to put my hands over your eyes and lead you into the ballroom.’
‘Okay,’ she said, bemused. Then she guessed it. The family had been determined to give her an engagement party. Now that she and Dominic actually were genuinely engaged she would happily go along with it. She would act suitably surprised. And be very happy. Getting engaged to this wonderful man was worth celebrating.
She could tell she was at the entrance to the ballroom. ‘You can open your eyes now,’ said Dominic, removing his hands.
There was a huge cry of ‘Surprise!’ Andie was astounded to see the happy, smiling faces of all her family and friends as well as a bunch of people she didn’t recognise but who were also smiling.
What was more, the ballroom had been transformed. It was exquisitely decorated in shades of white with hints of pale blue. Round tables were set up, dressed with white ruffled cloths and the backs of the chairs looped with antique lace and white roses. It was as if she’d walked into a dream. She blinked. But it was all still there when she opened her eyes.
Dominic held her close. ‘We—your family, your friends, me—have organised a surprise wedding for you.’
Andie had to put her hand to her heart to stop it from pounding out of her chest. ‘A wedding!’
She looked further through the open glass doors to see a bridal arch draped with filmy white fabric and white flowers set up among the rows of blue agapanthus blooming in the garden. Again she blinked. Again it was still there when she opened her eyes.
‘Your wedding,’ said Dominic. ‘Our wedding. You asked to be married as soon as possible. I organised it. With some help from the Party Queens. Actually, a lot of help from the Party Queens. Jake Marlow and some other friends of mine are also here.’
‘It...it’s unbelievable.’
‘Only if it’s what you want, Andie,’ Dominic said, turning to her so just she could hear. ‘If it’s too much, if you’d rather organise your own wedding in your own time, this can just turn into a celebration of our engagement.’
‘No! I want it. It’s perfect.’ She turned to the expectant people who seemed to have all held their breath in anticipation of her response and gone silent. ‘Thank you. I say I do—well, I’m soon going to say I do!’
There was an eruption of cheers and happy relieved laughter. ‘Here comes the bride,’ called out one of her brothers.
Andie felt a swell of joy and happy disbelief. It was usually her organising all the surprise parties. To have Dominic do this for her—well, she felt as if she was falling in love with him all over again.
But the party planner in her couldn’t resist checking on the details. ‘The rings?’ she asked Dominic. He patted his breast pocket. ‘Both ready-to-wear couture pieces,’ he said.
‘And this is all legal?’
‘Strictly speaking, you need a month’s notice of intent to be married—and we filled out our form less than a month ago. But I got a magistrate to approve a shorter notice period. It’s legal all right.’
Her eyes smarted with tears of joy. This was really happening. She was getting married today to the man she adored and in front of the people she loved most in the world.
Her fashion editor friend, Karen, dashed out from the guests and took her by the arm. ‘Hey! No tears. I’ve got my favourite hair and make-up artist on hand and we don’t want red eyes and blotchy cheeks. Let’s get your make-up done. She’s already done your bridesmaids.’
‘My bridesmaids?’
‘Your sisters, Hannah and Bea, Gemma, Eliza and your little niece, Caitlin. The little nephews are ring-bearers.’
‘You guys have thought of everything.’
Turning around to survey the room again, she noticed a fabulous four-tiered wedding cake, covered in creamy frosting and blue sugar forget-me-nots. It was exactly the cake she’d talked about with Gemma. She’d bet it was chocolate cake on the bottom layers and vanilla on the top—Gemma knew she disliked the heavy fruitcake of traditional wedding cakes.
‘Wait until you see your wedding dresses,’ said Karen.
‘Dresses?’
‘I’ve got you a choice of three. You’ll love them all but there’s one I think you’ll choose. It’s heavy ivory lace over silk, vintage inspired, covered at the front but swooping to the back.’
‘And a veil? I always wanted to wear a veil on my wedding day.’ This all felt surreal.
‘I’ve got the most beautiful wisp of silk tulle edged with antique lace. You attach it at the back of a simple halo band twisted with lace and trimmed with pearls. A touch vintage, a touch boho—very Andie. Oh, and your mother’s pearl necklace for your “something borrowed”.’
‘It sounds divine.’ She hugged Karen and thanked her. ‘I think you know my taste better than I do myself.’
It was divine. The dress, the veil, the silk-covered shoes that tied with ribbons around her ankles, the posy of white old-fashioned roses tied with mingled white and blue ribbon. The bridesmaids in their pale blue vintage style dresses with white rosebuds twisted through their hair. The little boys in adorable mini white tuxedos.
As she walked down the magnificent staircase on her father’s arm, Andie didn’t need the guests’ oohs and aahs to know she looked her best and the bridal party was breathtaking. She felt surrounded by the people she cared for most—and who cared for her. She wouldn’t wish anything to be different.
Dominic was waiting for her at the wedding arch, flanked by his best man, Jake Marlow—tall, broad-shouldered, blond and not at all the geek she’d imagined him to be—with her brothers and Rob Cratchit as groomsmen.
She knew she had to walk a stately, graceful bride’s walk towards her husband-to-be. But she had to resist the temptation to pick up her skirts and run to him and the start of their new life as husband and wife.
* * *
Dominic knew the bridesmaids looked lovely and the little attendants adorable. But he only had eyes for Andie as she walked towards him, her love for him shining from her eyes.
As she neared where he waited for her with the celebrant, a stray breeze picked up the fine layers of her gown’s skirts and whirled them up and over her knees. She laughed and made no attempt to pin them down.
As her skirts settled back into place, their glances met and her lips curved in an intimate exchange of a private joke that had meaning only for two. It was just one of many private connections he knew they would share, bonding and strengthening their life as partners in the years of happy marriage that stretched out ahead of them.
Finally she reached him and looked up to him with her dazzling smile. He enfolded her hand in his as he waited with her by his side to give his wholehearted assent to the celebrant’s question. ‘Do you, Dominic Hugo Hunt, take this woman, Andrea Jane Newman, to be your lawful wedded wife?’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Christmas Day the following year.
ANDIE STOOD WITHIN the protective curve of her husband’s arm as she admired the fabulous Christmas tree that stood in the entrance of their Vaucluse home. It soared almost to the ceiling and was covered in exquisite ornaments that were set to be the start of their family collection, to be brought out year after year. Brightly wrapped gifts were piled around its base.
Christmas lunch was again being held here today, but this time it was a party for just Andie’s family and a few other waifs and strays who appreciated being invited to share their family’s celebration.
The big Scrooge-busting party had been such a success that Dominic had committed to holding it every year. But not here this time. This year he’d hired a bigger house with a bigger pool and invited more people. He’d be calling in to greet his guests later in the day.
Andie hadn’t had to do a thing for either party. She’d had her input—how could a Party Queen not? But for this private party the decorating, table settings and gift-wrapping had all been done by Dominic and her family.
After much cajoling, Andie had convinced her father to transfer his centre of cooking operations to Dominic’s gourmet kitchen—just for this year. Although Dad had grumbled and complained about being away from familiar territory, Andie knew he was secretly delighted at the top-of-the-range equipment in the kitchen. The aromas that were wafting to her from the kitchen certainly smelled like the familiar traditional family favourites her father cooked each year. She couldn’t imagine they would taste any less delicious than they would cooked in her parents’ kitchen.
It was people who made the joy of Christmas and all the people she cherished the most were here to celebrate with her.
And one more.
The reason for all the disruption lay cradled in her arms. Hugo Andrew Hunt had been born in the early hours of Christmas Eve.
The birth had been straightforward and he was a healthy, strong baby. Andie had insisted on leaving the hospital today to be home for Christmas. Dominic had driven her and Hugo home so slowly and carefully they’d had a line of impatient cars honking their horns behind them by the time they’d got back to Vaucluse. He was over the moon about becoming a father. This was going to be one very loved little boy.
‘Weren’t you clever, to have our son born on Christmas Eve?’ he said.
‘I’m good at planning, but not that good,’ she said. ‘He came when he was ready. Maybe...maybe your parents sent him.’ She turned her head so she could look up into Dominic’s eyes. ‘Now Christmas Eve will be a cause for celebration, not mourning, for you.’
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It will—because of you.’
Andie looked down at the perfect little face of her slumbering son and felt again the rush of fierce love for this precious being she’d felt when the midwife had first laid him on her tummy. He had his father’s black hair but it was too soon to tell what colour his eyes would be.
Her husband, he-who-would-never-be-called-Scrooge-again, gently traced the line of little Hugo’s cheek with his finger. ‘Do you remember how I said last year was the very best Christmas of my life? Scratch that. This one is even better.’
‘And they will get better and better,’ she promised, turning her head for his kiss.
As they kissed, she heard footsteps on the marble floor and then an excited cry from her sister Bea. ‘They’re home! Andie, Dominic and baby Hugo are home!’
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from THE PRINCE’S CHRISTMAS VOW by Jennifer Faye.
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The Prince’s Christmas Vow
by Jennifer Faye
CHAPTER ONE
THE PLAN WAS in motion.
Though suddenly, it didn’t sound like such a good idea.
Demetrius Castanavo, the Crown Prince of the Mirraccino Islands, shrugged off the worrisome feeling as he stepped out of the air-conditioned black limousine. Nothing was going to go wrong. He glanced at the clear blue sky, appreciating this last bit of good weather before it cooled down in the weeks leading up to Christmas.
Demetrius buttoned his charcoal-gray suit jacket, gave each sleeve a tug and then straightened his shoulders. Today he must look his best. It was imperative.
A bright camera flash momentarily blinded him.
He blinked, regaining his focus. The media coverage had begun. He restrained a sigh. Instead he lifted his chin and forced his lips into a well-practiced smile.
Demetrius, the royal playboy, was no more. His days of nonchalance and bucking the system were over. Now he was intent on becoming a proper and worthy heir to the Mirraccino throne. It was, after all, his birthright—whether he desired it or not.
And now he was about to participate in a very important interview that would help shape his new, improved public image—one he hoped would sway the residents of the Mirraccino nation to support his inevitable rise to the throne.
His gaze settled on an impressive set of steps that led to a historic mansion. At the top was an expansive landing with large, white columns amid the backdrop of blue shuttered windows. The place was a timeless beauty. He was glad they were going to save this building by revitalizing it.
There was just one snag in his well-thought-out plan—Zoe.
His estranged wife.
But that situation would be resolved soon—very soon.
The head of his security detail leaned in close and whispered, “The reporter is waiting for you on the landing, Your Royal Highness.”
Demetrius shoved the disturbing thoughts of his estranged wife to the back of his mind. He’d deal with her tomorrow. “Good. As soon as I meet with him, we have to get moving if we’re going to stay on schedule today.”
“Sir, the reporter, it’s a woman.”
“Sì. I remember now.” Demetrius needed to keep his head in this game instead of wondering how Zoe would react when she saw him again.
Demetrius swiftly climbed the steps that fanned out, covering a large area while adding to the building’s charm. He’d definitely made the right decision by insisting the all-access ramp be constructed on the side of the building, readily accessible yet not losing the building’s aesthetic appeal.
His vision was to marry the building’s beauty with functionality. They were doing well with the functionality. The beauty would be Zoe’s area of expertise. And tomorrow would be her first day on the job.
Off to the far side of the landing stood a short, slender brunette. Her makeup was a bit heavy for his tastes, but he reasoned that it must have something to do with spending so much time in front of the television cameras. Interviews were one of his least favorite tasks, but at times they were a necessity—like now.
When his advisors had unanimously agreed this was the best way for him to overhaul his scandalous youthful past, they had also assured him that agreeing to the one-on-one interview would be the best way to give the citizens access to him—to let them know that he was serious about being a caring, involved ruler. Though he’d rather keep his distance from the paparazzi, Demetrius had to admit that in this one particular instance, they may in fact come in handy—quite handy indeed.
He reached the landing and turned to the reporter. Greetings were quick and formal. Demetrius had every intention of keeping things moving along at a brisk pace. He knew the more time he spent with the media, the more they’d learn. And in his experience, that was never a good thing. He wanted to control the flow of information, not the other way around.
Ms. Carla Russo, the face of Mirraccino’s entertainment news, held a microphone. “Before we begin, I wondered if you might have an announcement for our viewers.”
