Valentine Babies (Holiday Babies Series) (2 page)

She heaved a deep sigh. “I wish I could be distracted. But—”

“Give yourself a chance to relax. Come let’s have a drink.
Soon they’ll call our names and we’ll make our entry into the reception hall.”

Her gaze moved over his face and questioned. “Why do you
want to help me?” Confused and weary, she frowned and blinked.

“Because I’m a doctor. I’m used to helping patients and
people in need.” He smiled. “And because I’m used to treating my dates well.”

“Ah, do you often date?” She arched a curious eyebrow.

“I won’t tell. But I can show you how you’ll have a good
time with me.”

“Presumptuous man.” She chuckled. Finally.

“Come on. The coordinator is lining up the bridal party.
Let’s not make her wait.” He captured Roxanne’s hand.

Amazing. She didn’t withdraw. “The woman is already upset at
me.” Roxanne shrugged. “So are Heather and the photographer.”

“Who cares?” They both burst out laughing. Greg loved the
sound of her laughter. He wished he could restore her serenity and discover the
young woman who wasn’t afraid to travel to dangerous areas on difficult
missions.

“Miss Roxanne Ramsay, the maid of honor and sister of the
bride. And Dr. Greg Hayes, the groom’s best friend.” They strolled hand in hand
to the dance floor and waited for the rest of the cortege to be called in.

“And now, the newly wedded, Dr. Nicolas Preston and Dr.
Madelyn Preston.”

The guests cheered. The bride and groom entered and the
musicians played their favorite piece. They danced alone first, then couples
joined them. “Shall we?” Greg asked.

She turned to face him. He smiled, pleased to have her in
his arms. If everything went well, he hoped he’d keep her there a good part of
the evening.

The song was a slow. Exactly what he needed. His chin
against her head, he held her tight and inhaled her floral perfume. A thorny
and delicate rose.

When the music ended he walked her to their places at the
bridal table. “Can I get you a drink?”

“Thanks, I’m good with my glass of water. We’ll give the
toasts soon.”

Someone brought the microphone to Nick’s father who
delivered the first congratulatory speech, then it was Greg’s turn. He stood
and raised his champagne flute. “Nick, my friend, you sure are a lucky fellow.
You’ve managed to get yourself a fantastic wife. You’re my boss, so I think I
should learn from you.” The crowd laughed and applauded. “To the bride and
groom, long life and happiness.” Greg emptied his drink and glanced at Roxanne.
She’d raised her flute but didn’t bring it to her lips.

“My turn.” She grabbed the microphone. “Maddy, you and I
have shared a lot while growing up. You don’t need my wise advice anymore.” She
chuckled. “I’m glad to let you go to a man who adores you and will make you
happy. Nick, welcome to our family. You’ll have to contend now with several
attentive sisters-in-law and a mother-in-law who’ll shower you with delicious
cookies and good advice. To the bride and groom, long life and happiness.”

Exuberant applause greeted Roxanne’s toast. Everyone sipped
their champagne. Roxanne abstained and sat her glass on the table.

Madelyn came to hug her maid of honor. “Thank you, Roxy.
You’ve helped me in the past. I’ll help you from now on. You need a loving
husband too.”

“What? No, please. I don’t have time for that now.”

Madelyn chuckled and patted her cheek. “Eventually, we all
do.”

Greg smiles and opened his napkin on his lap. But why wasn’t
Roxanne drinking champagne at her own sister’s wedding? Even a sip? Instead,
she nibbled on a French roll.

The waiters brought the salad, and later, the entrees. He
and Roxanne chatted while eating.

“I heard you’re well-traveled.” Greg studied her curiously.

“I’m a reporter at KNR Television Network. So I’m always on
the road or flying somewhere.” Her whole face perked up at the mention of her
work.

Pleased he got a positive reaction, he continued with the
same line of questions. “Have you ever interviewed a famous athlete?

“Quite a few,” she said as if it were nothing extraordinary.

“Any presidents?”

“Not personally, but I was on the teams that met with French
Pesident Sarkozy, South African Nelson Mandela, and the Prime Minister of
India.”

“Boy, you’re an interesting person.”

Her eyes sparkled at his compliment.

Finally he’d been granted a glimpse of the girl her whole
family bragged about. “Any Royalty?”

“I had the incredible chance to talk to King Juan-Carlos of
Spain when he was attending a special bullfight sponsored by the European
Press.”

“No kidding?”

“And the King of Sweden when he was a guest on the yacht of
one of our famous billionaires. We exchanged a few words.”

“Wow.” He squinted, searching for more challenging
questions. “Ever ridden on an elephant?”

She nodded. “Yes, in India and Thailand.”

“How I wish I could have been there. How about a camel?”

She tilted her head and peered at him. “Are we playing a
game? Know you in 10 questions or something like that? Because I’m good at
questioning people too.”

He burst out laughing. “Fine by me. I’ll answer your ten
questions when we’re done with mine.” At least, he’d managed to help her bury
the disturbing thoughts that had plagued her at the church. “Can we continue?”

“Okay, I toured around the pyramids of Egypt on a camel.”

“Lucky girl. To think I’ve never been north of New York. I
never crossed any ocean. You must have so many stories to tell.”

“Actually, I wrote about and reported on many historical
events.”

“Did you ever visit a war zone?”

Her smile disappeared. It was as if he’d lowered a shutter
over the brightness of her eyes. “Yes.” She stared at her plate and forked her
meat. Her lips pinched in a sad line.

Damn his question. He must have touched a raw nerve. Had she
lost someone dear during a war?

“You don’t like this question. Is it part of what disturbs
you so much?”

“Yes.” Her voice came as a hardly audible whisper.

Now he’d spoiled his previous effort. He cleaned his plate.
“You’ve hardly eaten anything?”

“I’m not very hungry today.”

“Stomach problems?”

“Just emotion.” She reached for another bread roll and
munched on it. He’d bet his old car that the emotion she claimed had nothing to
do with her sister’s wedding and was all about her personal problems.

“Let’s dance.” Pushing out her chair, she stood.

For an instant, Greg stared at her. Had she decided his
distraction methods were effective? What a girl. “Good idea.”

He followed her, admiring her back. The round hips swayed
enticingly and sent a surge of heat to his groin.
Bad idea
.

He forced his gaze to move higher. To her elegant neck and
the artistic twist of brown hair high on her head. He could imagine brushing feathery
kisses along the creamy length of her throat.
Bad, bad idea
.

On the dance floor, Roxanne didn’t wait for him and mingled
with the dancers. He joined her and wrapped an arm around her waist, swung her
to the strong beat of the music, spun her into his arms and out again. She
laughed and followed his fast-paced lead as they moved and grooved to the
music.

His gaze locked onto her eyes, assessing her mood. A smile
lingered on her lips and her cheeks flushed a pink hue. Once again, her
distress had faded, kicked away by the fun of the moment and her resolve to
fight her inner pain. Hope fluttered in the air. Greg allowed himself a sigh of
relief and enjoyed his partner’s liveliness.

The music stopped and the coordinator announced that the
bride would throw her bouquet. Roxanne spun. Panic furrowed her face. Her
eyebrows gathered in a scowl. She started toward the door, but four bridesmaids
caught her after a few steps and dragged her back to the dance floor. Greg
eased beside her. She needed support. What was entertaining for the others
obviously upset her.

“Be a good sport. It’s Madelyn’s night,” Heather scolded.

“It’s just for fun,” Claire added, with a big laugh.

“You don’t have to catch it,” Tiffany advised.

“Are you ready?” Her bouquet in hand, Madelyn surveyed the
dozen young women waiting, their arms raised high, and swiveled to face away
from them.

Only Roxanne stood on the side, her mouth a stern line, her
fingers clenched over her stomach.

“One. Two. Three,” the groom called. His bride balanced her
flowers over her head but didn’t throw.

“Come on. Toss it,” the young women shouted.

Madelyn laughed and hurled the bouquet to the side. It hit
Roxanne squarely in the chest. She automatically closed her arms around it.

“Bingo. Roxanne got it.” Laughing and squealing, the female
crowd encircled the maid of honor.

Madelyn ran to her sister and hugged her. “It pays off to
have played on the basket ball team.”

“You did it on purpose. Why?” Roxanne glared at the roses in
her hands.

“For a good omen. I want you to have the happiness I enjoy.
You’ll be the next bride, Roxy.”

The color drained from Roxanne’s face. “No, I won’t. I’ll
never get married.”

Poor girl. She was back to step one, with sorrow gnawing at
her heart.

“And now,” the coordinator announced, “the groom will remove
the bride’s garter and toss it to the eligible bachelors. The lucky winner will
share a dance and a kiss with the bouquet winner.”

“Oh no,” Roxanne wailed.

“Yes, yes,” the crowd chanted, unaware of the drama.

Greg squeezed her hand. “It won’t happen. I promise.”

He’d have to catch the garter to protect her from an
unwanted kiss.

An unwanted kiss he was dying to give her.

Chapter Two

“Lucky girl.” The bridesmaids fussed around Roxanne,
applauding and laughing.

“We’re not college girls anymore. It’s a silly tradition.”
Roxanne slammed the bouquet on the table and resumed her place.

“But it’s so much fun,” Heather retorted. “I remember at my
wedding—”

“You were only twenty-one. A kid, not knowing anything about
life.” She regretted her words as soon as she blurted them.

“Get off your high horse,” Heather snapped. “I didn’t meet
kings and presidents, but I’m happy with my husband and my children. I hope you
can settle and be happy too.”

Her younger sister had the knack of getting on Roxanne’s
nerves. But she wouldn’t begrudge her happiness. “I’m sorry, Heather. I didn’t
mean to belittle you. You chose the best thing in life, a family. Enjoy every
minute with them.”

Heather frowned. “Since when were you so humble? You sure
know how to confuse me.”

Roxanne decided to shut her mouth from now on. No one knew
her secret. Not the happy part, or the unexpected tragedy, and especially not
her devastating dilemma.

The music blared as the bride sat on a chair in the middle
of the dance floor and the groom kneeled in front of her. Madelyn raised her
skirt to her knee, revealing her bejeweled garter.

The guests clapped their hands to the rhythm of the music.
“Go, go, go.”

Nick trailed little kisses along his wife’s legs until he
reached the garter, gripped it between his teeth, and lowered it down Madelyn’s
leg and over her foot. He brandished it like a trophy.

“Yeah,” his friends shouted.

“Okay, guys, are you ready?” A group of young men gathered
in the middle of the dance floor. Nick spun and raised his arms, the garter
dangling from his hand.

Roxanne threw a disgusted look at the group. She’d endure
the dance and the kiss to please her sisters. Her eyes rounded when she saw
Greg run from between the tables, leap over two chairs, elbow past two ushers,
and spring up as if he were participating in a high-jumping competition.

Oh my. He caught the damn garter. She couldn’t hold in a
bubble of laughter.

“No fair!” the men shouted.

“I got it. And I dare anyone to take it.” Greg lifted a
fist.

Nick burst out laughing and held out his hand to him.
“Congratulations, man. You earned your prize the hard way.”

They all spun toward Roxanne. Determined to be a sport, she
sauntered toward Greg. “Ready for my dance.”

His lips curled in a sidelong smile. Was it smugness or the
same simple pleasure she felt when he brought her against him, both arms
wrapped around her waist? She laced her fingers at the back of his neck. They
swung slowly to the soft music, their locked gazes exchanging silent
conversation—she, expressing gratitude for saving her from the throng of eager
young bachelors, and he, conveying confusion and a desire to understand her.

His warm breath fanned her cheeks, melting her insides. How
would his kiss feel? An ardent show-off? Would he bend her over his arm to gain
applause from the crowd? Maybe he’d begin with a tender brush over the lips
that would turn passionate. A tingle spread through her as she imagined the
sensation.

 The smile slowly faded from his face, but his gaze
never left her. Had he guessed her improper thoughts? She knew she was blushing
and hated it. He stopped moving and she realized the song had ended. Around
them, the couples dancing swiveled toward them, everyone expecting the big
moment—the fun moment.

Now
.
He was going to kiss her, now
.

Greg eased her away, then bent, and brushed her cheek with a
quick peck she hardly felt.

That was it? A sigh of disappointment escaped her.

“Thank you.” His hand flattened over her nape and his
fingers did a discreet dance that sent warm tremors through her chest.

“For what?”

“For coming to dance with me. For not hiding.”

“Not my style.”

“I like your style.” He chuckled. “Shall we continue to
dance?”