Stop That Wedding!
Chapter 8
“You poor darling,” Aunt Lydia cooed as she held out a jade green halter
dress for Zenith to wear. “Things aren’t going your way, are they?”
Grabbing the dress as it passed through the changing room curtain, Zenith
silently agreed. Her lovely burgundy dress had been ruined; she’d caused
thousands of dollars of damage at the hotel restaurant, and she found herself no
closer to passing Grandpapa’s gauntlet or straightening out her chaotic personal
life than she had been days ago. In fact, if she considered that she was now
secretly un-engaged, she could be considered one step behind where she’d been.
Slipping the green dress over her head, she pulled it down to settle over her
curves. Her hair, now back to its original platinum color, fell over the straps in a
pleasing contrast. She stepped out from behind the curtain, leaving her soiled
things on the floor as her aunt had instructed.
“You’re lovely as always,” Lydia praised. The two women were alone; Brad
had handed her off to his stepmother, then headed back to his office.
Zenith remembered that Brad had been so upset thinking that she and
Chadwick were living together. His extreme anger seemed totally out of sync with
her image of him.
“That dress doesn’t look right with your sandals,” Lydia said thoughtfully.
She tapped her chin as she studied the gold flat-heeled shoes.
Zenith smiled. “They only have to last me until I get home. I’m not planning
on moving out of my bedroom all night long.”
“Yes, I heard that you and Chadwick are living together.” When Zenith
whipped her head around to stare at her, she added, “Your grandfather told me.
Apparently he had a run-in with your fiancé and told him all about your kissing my
son on the elevator.” Lydia held another dress, a deep indigo silk sheath, up
against Zenith and frowned at it. “I think this will do for your job tomorrow.”
“I’m not working at the restaurant tomorrow,” Zenith informed her. “And what
did Grandfather say?”
“He ranted about you throwing your life away. I’m wondering why you were
kissing Brad. And why aren’t you working at the restaurant tomorrow?”
“I don’t mean to kiss Brad. It just...happens. He’s there and I’m there and
things just seem to boil out of hand and it...happens.” She shrugged helplessly.
“And I’m not working tomorrow because Brad has decided that until he can figure
out a safe job for me I’m staying home. He says that company profits were cut in
half the moment I started working for him.”
“Kisses just happen? Zenith, darling, happily engaged women just don’t
‘happen’ to kiss other men. They save such signs of passion for the man they’re
about to marry.” She turned her shrewd gaze to her great-niece. “Unless said
bride isn’t planning on marrying her groom.”
Zenith stared pointedly past her aunt as she took the other dress from her. “I
think I’ll try this on.” Turning swiftly, she dove past the curtain to the relative
safety of the dressing room. It was a haven from Aunt Lydia’s brilliant green gaze
that always saw right through her.
“You can hide from me, but I’m not leaving,” Lydia informed her in a sing-
song voice. Zenith sighed. Her great aunt didn’t just share the family’s emerald-
green eyes with Grandpapa; she also shared the legendary Somersbee
stubbornness.
“Zenith, you can’t marry one man if you’re having feelings for another.”
“I know,” Zenith muttered under her breath as she slipped the green dress off
and hung it up on a wall peg. Honestly, she didn’t know why it was so difficult
keeping quiet the fact that she was no longer engaged. It was as if the world was
conspiring to yank the truth out of her.
“What did you say?” Lydia asked.
“I said that the zipper won’t go,” Zenith replied as she hastily slipped the
indigo dress over her head.
“There are no zippers on either one of those dresses,” Lydia retorted. “You’
re trying to dodge the subject, and I’m not falling for it.”
“And which subject is that? My job or my engagement?” She didn’t want to
discuss either, frankly. But Lydia wasn’t about to drop her quest to find out what
was going on.
“Zenith, darling, you’re like a daughter to me; you and I have always been
able to confide in each other. If I promise not to tell your grandfather, will you tell
me what’s going on?”
The desire to unburden herself was overwhelming. “It couldn’t hurt to talk
about it, could it?”
“No, darling,” her aunt soothed. “It could even help.”
“Chadwick and I aren’t getting married.”
“Oh,” Lydia breathed. “Darling, I’m so sorry. I know how important this
wedding was to you.”
The wedding. Not the marriage. Zenith knew now that she’d never truly
looked past the marriage ceremony to examine the relationship she and Chadwick
would have shared.
“Chadwick and I discovered we wanted different things out of the future, and
that we would be happier as friends.”
“Oh.” There was a pause as Lydia mulled over Zenith’s revelation. Zenith
took advantage of the silence to button the side closure on the silk sheath. It
clung to her body like a glove, swirling about her slender calves.
“I’m glad that you two finally realized what was pretty clear to me, darling. But
where does that leave Brad?”
Longing. That was what Zenith labeled the emotion that surged through her
at the mention of his name. What a hopeless feeling, she told herself. But she
didn’t let it drag her down. Zenith Priscilla Rose Somersbee wasn’t about to let the
fact that she experienced unrequited love ruin her life.
She swept the curtain back and stepped out to face Brad’s stepmother.
Although Lydia loved her like her own child, she was definitely Brad’s mother in
her heart. Never having children of her own, Lydia had opened herself to her
husband’s motherless teenagers. Both boys had initially reacted with suspicion,
having met women who’d tried to win the handsome bachelor through his
children. When it became obvious that she was sincere, they’d welcomed her
wholeheartedly.
No, she couldn’t expect her great-aunt to treat the subject of Brad with an
unbiased viewpoint. The two were very close.
“I don’t know, Aunt Lydia. Brad seems interested, but he’s been involved with
so many women over the years that I just can’t put too much weight in it. I think
that I might be one of those ‘forbidden fruit’ things.”
“Forbidden fruit? I don’t know. What I do know is that you’ve always been
special to Brad, even when you two would bicker. I don’t think he’d play with you
that way. His reputation as a playboy is extremely exaggerated. It’s because he’s
never met anyone he felt he shared anything with.” Her green gaze danced as
she smiled at Zenith. “At least not enough to kiss any of them in the corporate
elevator.”
A faint blush tinged Zenith’s cheeks. “That was embarrassing.”
Lydia laughed, the sound like bells. “I can imagine. I take it he doesn’t know
your engagement is over?”
Zenith shook her head. “No, I haven’t told anyone yet. I tried, but he wouldn’
t listen. I don’t want anyone to know right now. You see, all these strange things
have been happening to Chadwick and myself. I know Luna’s behind it, and I’m
pretty sure that Grandpapa’s been helping her. I want them to suffer a bit.”
“Zenith, you evil child!” Lydia stared wide-eyed at her, then began to laugh.
“Oh, but I love it! It’s so delicious!” She steepled her fingers in front of her
mouth. “That explains why Chadwick is suddenly ‘living’ with you. Oh, darling,
what an intriguing situation. Of course I won’t tell your grandfather. He deserves
it for interfering in your life that way. In fact, I think I’ll call him up and report that
since I found the perfect dress for your wedding, it’s back on.”
Zenith grinned with delight. “I like that. What about Brad? Should I tell him?”
Lydia pondered the idea of her stepson. “I don’t think it will hurt for him to
labor under that misconception for a few more days. I think I like him thinking of
you as ‘forbidden fruit’. Makes you so much more intriguing to him. You’re in love
with him, aren’t you?”
Her shrewd assessment of her emotions didn’t shock Zenith; her great-aunt
knew her so well. “Yes, I am. But Aunt Lydia, please don’t start planning a
wedding. I don’t think he shares the same feelings for me.”
The entrance bell jangled, signaling the arrival of a customer in the outer
room. Lydia and Zenith didn’t react, since Angela was out there working on the
new display.
“Darling, there’s several ways we can find out, and –“
“Zenith, what’s this I hear from your grandfather about the wedding being
postponed?” Zenith’s mother swept into the room, her outfit a brilliant teal and
red. The matching purse and shoes did nothing to make the ensemble palatable.
“Hello, Camille,” Lydia greeted coolly. Her aunt had never cared for her
mother, Zenith knew. Lydia thought that Camille was entirely too bubble-headed.
“Oh, hello, Lydia. I hear that this is your fault. You destroyed my daughter’s
lovely gown.”
“Oh, nonsense, Camille. I’ve found a replacement gown; it will be here in a
few short days, and Zenith will adore it.”
“I sincerely hope so,” Camille sniffed, barely mollified. She turned to her
daughter. “I do need to talk to you, darling. There’s been some trouble with the
table decorations. The gardenia candles won’t fit in the bowls that came in, so I’ve
ordered new candles. They had nothing in the same color as what you’d
requested, so I had to improvise.”
She fished in her purse, pulling out a candle in the shape of a daisy. A
brilliant cobalt blue daisy. It was so close to the color Zenith’s hair changed to that
Zenith began to laugh. Her non-existent wedding was going to be the gaudiest
thing that was ever conceived.
Mistaking Zenith’s mirth for approval, Camille beamed. “Oh, I knew you’d
love them. Now, let’s talk about your flowers....”
^^^^^^^
Brad looked up at yet another interruption to his day. “And what do I owe this
visit to?”
Tiffany Laurel Dansereau stood before him, a knowing smile on her slender
lips. Brad was acquainted with her, of course, but rarely exchanged words with
her and had never before received a visit from her. His defenses perked up; this
couldn’t be good.
“I’m breaking a promise by being here right now,” she informed him. She
didn’t show any remorse over her action, and Brad’s uneasiness grew.
“Tiffany, I’m very busy. Could this wait?” He turned his attention back to the
computer, hoping that she’d get the message and leave. But Tiffany wasn’t easily
put off.
“Only if you don’t want Zenith,” she told him starkly.
His brows rose as his fingers stilled; the mention of Zenith caused his nerves
to coil. He’d done nothing but think about her since he’d left her in his
stepmother's capable hands.
The thought of her living with Chadwick made him ill. It tore at him like
nothing he could remember. Zenith should only be melted by his kisses, should
only be moved to moan and beg for more by him and him alone. The very idea
that she’d be going home to that ass’s outstretched arms was unbearable.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Anger uncoiled within him. He
knew that Tiffany and Zenith were not very close, despite what he’d seen at
Lydia's shop yesterday. He wasn’t sure what this latest tactic was, but he couldn’t
imagine anything good coming from it.
“I mean,” she stated dryly, “that I found out something yesterday that can
change everything. I can also tell you that Zenith is confused and doesn’t know
what to do. I figured as an old friend I’d give her a helping hand.”
“And that brings you here to me?” he inquired skeptically.
Tiffany smiled. “Oh, yes, most definitely here.” She paused dramatically.
“Yesterday Zenith confided in me that she wasn’t marrying Chadwick.”
The air seemed to freeze as he struggled with her declaration. “Chadwick
spent the night with her last night,” he countered. “That doesn’t sound like a
broken engagement.”
His words stopped Tiffany for a moment; her confident smile faded.
Uncertainty flickered in her eyes; Brad witnessed her internal struggle with
interest. Then the smile returned.
“When she called you a low hanging fruit, she blushed.”
“She called me a what?” Brad exclaimed.
Tiffany waved off the interruption and continued. “And her eyes sparkled.
She didn’t do that when we discussed Chadwick. And she wanted me to keep it a
secret, but she didn’t explain why. She just said that there were a few things she
needed to take care of first. No, she’s up to something. If I were you, I’d find out
what.”
Brad’s eyes glimmered with impatience. “She and Chadwick must have made
up since you saw her yesterday. I heard from Chadwick himself that they are
living together.”
Tiffany wasn’t listening. “It must be about all the strange things that
happened. Her blue hair, the wedding dresses getting swapped. I heard
something about Chadwick’s lips as well. I bet that she’s trying to figure out who
did all these things.” A light burst of laughter escaped. “Yes, the little scamp is
trying to turn the tables on someone!” Her brow furrowed in concentration. “But I
wonder who?”
As if suddenly remembering where she was, she turned slightly startled eyes
to Brad. “I think she needs some convincing that you’re interested in her. She’s
not engaged. I know that. She doesn’t love Chadwick. I’m positive about that.
And I do know that she reacted strongly when we talked about you. I don’t think
that she’s ever blushed about a man before. Brad, if you don’t find out what’s
going on, then you’re an idiot.”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms and presenting her with a
steel-covered gaze. “Then label me an idiot. I’m done with Zenith Somersbee.”
Tiffany’s eyes narrowed and her mouth twisted in frustration. “Oh, I don’t
know why I ever tried to help you two.” She twirled around in anger and flounced
out of his office, emphasizing her departure by slamming his door soundly.
Brad smiled grimly. Oh, yes, he was certainly through making a fool of
himself over Zenith.
Glancing at his watch, he started to straighten up his desk. He’d promised to
take Lydia to the ballet. His father would rarely go, and she adored it, so Brad
often escorted her. Although he didn’t care much for the ballet, he did care
deeply for his stepmother, and loved spending time with her.
Tonight he considered it a timely distraction, one that would get his mind off
of one very confusing woman.
^^^^^
As usual, Lydia sparkled with life and beauty. The powdered gold gown
emphasized her pale coloring and enchanting emerald eyes. She garnered her
share of admiring looks from the crowd who were milling about, drinking
champagne and waiting for the ballet to begin. Brad, decked out in a collarless
black tuxedo and crisp white shirt, received several glances as well.
Lydia smiled up at him, her happiness obvious. “I do so love the ballet,
darling. And I know you’re not too fond of it, which makes it all the sweeter that
you come with me.”
He grinned down at her. “Since my lazy father can’t take you, I get the
honor.”
Lydia’s laughter sang through the air. “He was forced to escort me to things
like this for ten years. Now he’s off the hook. I figure you’re good for another five,
then it will be Taylor’s turn.” Her eyes danced at the thought of her grandson.
Brad snorted. “I sincerely doubt you can pull that boy away from his
microscope.”
She smiled in response. “Why, I’ll just lie, of course. I’ll tell him that it’s a
science fair.”
The two shared a laugh. Yet even through the laughter Lydia could see that
Brad appeared troubled.
“Want to tell me what’s bothering you, darling?”
His smile was touched with rancor. “I’m not sure if I want to talk about this,
even with you.”
Lydia wasn’t put off by his words. “Brad, it’s always better to talk to someone
when something is bothering you.” Her eyes studied him thoughtfully. “It’s about
Zenith, isn’t it?”
He grimaced. “These days it seems like the world revolves around her.” At
least his world did.
Lydia sighed. “The poor girl has had such a hard time of it.”
Brad responded with a snort. “It seems like she’s gotten over it rather quickly.”
“You’re talking about her moving in with Chadwick, aren’t you?” The warning
bell sounded softly, signaling to the patrons that the ballet was about to begin.
The crowd started moving towards the entrances while enjoying last moment
chatter. Lydia slipped her arm through Brad’s and smiled up at him, saying
something he couldn’t quite hear.
“Excuse me?”
Stopping, she stood on her tiptoes. Brad leaned his ear closer to her. “I
said,” she spoke again, “that sometimes things aren’t always as they seem, and
warrant further investigation.” The smile she gave him was filled with intrigue and
silent knowledge. Brad longed to ask her to clarify, but knew from past experience
that his stepmother revealed no more than what suited her.
His insides coiled in anticipation as he thought about the meaning of her
words. Perhaps Tiffany was telling the truth, he thought to himself. Perhaps it
merited a visit to Miss Zenith Somersbee after all.
^^^^^^^^^^
“Zenith...”
Brad whispered her name as his lips swooped down on hers, tasting and
nipping at her swollen mouth. She moaned against the heat of his tongue as it
plundered her.
She melted into the mattress; his hands roamed all over her. Fingers slipped
between the juncture of her legs; his mouth left hers and traveled to her ear. She
felt his hot breath against her delicate lobe as he whispered....
“Yip!”
Buffy growled menacingly, then yipped in response to the loud pounding
coming from Zenith’s front door. Zenith groaned and hushed the angry dog.
Rolling over and casting a bleary eye at the clock, she groaned again. Its glowing
numbers stated it was just after midnight. Midnight! Who on earth could be
banging on her door at this hour?
She dove into her open closet for a robe; the pale blue satin camisole and
tap pants set she wore wasn’t something she wanted to answer the door in.
Slipping a white silk robe on and tying it firmly about her waist, she reached the
front door, Buffy growling protectively beside her. Peeking out through the
security hole, she could clearly see her visitor.
Her heart slammed to a halt, then thudded rapidly as her nerves skittered
under her skin. Brad! What brought him here so late at night? Oh, she wasn’t
ready to see him! Jerked out of a sound sleep, she didn’t feel awake enough to
deal with him. She wore no makeup, her hair had ratted on one side, and worst
yet, she wasn’t in control of her emotions; the sexy dream still echoed through her
body. The sight of Brad standing outside her door magnified the effect.
“Zenith, I know you’re standing there. I hear that dog of yours growling at me
through the door, and I heard her barking from your bedroom before. Quit hiding
from me and open the door.”
It wasn’t right that the mere sound of his voice could send her cascading over
coals of desire. She pressed one damp palm to her chest in a feeble attempt to
slow down her heartbeat. Could he hear it through the door? It was so loud she
wouldn’t be surprised if he could.
“Zenith....” His voice reached her again, smooth and seductive. She could
imagine his head leaning against the door as he spoke, his eyes glittering with
determination. She sighed; it didn’t do any good to hide behind the door. He
wasn’t going to go away.
Sighing again, she unlocked and opened the door. Her verdant eyes shot
daggers at him as he swept past her. The sight of him, elegant and incredibly
handsome in his black tuxedo, pulled at her heartstrings. The crisp white shirt
contrasting against his tanned skin only enhanced his dark eyes.
Shutting the door, she turned to face him, to find him standing just scant
inches from her. There was no place to retreat. She chose to stand her ground.
“I’m not receiving visitors at this hour, Brad. So if this isn’t an emergency
larger than the great earthquake, then you’d better apologize and leave.”
His eyes traveled slowly over her, taking in her tousled hair, her glowing skin,
the thrust of her breasts under the robe, and the lush curve of her hips. Even her
bare feet weren’t left out of his perusal. Zenith didn’t shrink under his stare.
Instead, her chin lifted in defiance as she met his darkened gaze. Her fingers
twisted her grandmother’s ring, the only indication of her nervousness.
“Do I meet with your approval?” she demanded.
“Honey, you meet my every fantasy,” he grinned wickedly. His smile grew as
her cheeks reddened in anger.
“Brad, I’m tired. I hope you have a good reason for barging in here.”
He leaned towards her, his lips hovering above hers. His breath singed her
skin as he spoke. “Of course I do, Zee. I always have a good reason for whatever
I do.” His lips moved closer; Zenith’s breath caught in her throat and her heart
hammered in her chest. “But first, I think I’ll go say hi to Chadwick.” Before she
could react, he sauntered off, heading towards the bedrooms.
Chadwick! She’d forgotten all about him. And about their charade that he
was living with her. What would Brad think when he discovered that he wasn’t
there?
“Brad! Stop!” She scurried after him, reaching him just as he opened the
master bedroom door. Even in its unmade state, it was obvious the bed had held
only one occupant that night.
One eyebrow lifted as he gazed down at her. “The blush is off your
relationship already?” He glanced at the empty bed, then back at her. She knew
by the mocking twist of his lips he knew the truth. “Why did you lie to me, Zenith?”
“I didn’t,” she snapped. “I tried to explain it to you at the restaurant, but you
wouldn’t listen. No, Brad Pearce thinks he knows everything, and – “
His mouth descending on hers silenced her words. Taunting, devouring,
taking the taste of her into his mouth, Brad bundled her against him and fused her
body against his. The kiss lasted only a few moments, but it shattered her
resistance completely.
“You don’t kiss like an engaged woman,” he whispered against her cheek.
“You don’t feel like an engaged woman. Despite what this says.” He held up her
left hand and touched the glittering diamond ring with his forefinger and thumb,
turning it slightly. “Lovely rock, but does it mean anything?”
“No, but this does. This was my grandmother’s ring.” She held up her right
hand. On her third finger was a narrow band of gold with two hearts intertwined.
A blue diamond glittered where the hearts joined. It was rather beautiful in its
simplicity. “She gave this to me when she was dying, twelve years ago. She told
me to wear it as a promise to my future husband, that I would stay pure until our
wedding night.” Her eyes glowed with her conviction. “I’m not breaking my
promise to my grandmother.”
Brad smiled grimly. “I loved your grandmother, too, Zee. But she was raised
in another world. Women don’t have to be ‘pure’ anymore to be loved and
treasured. I’ve told you before that I believe in commitment but not marriage.
Why does a piece of paper matter? All it does is give one person power over the
other.”
His lips traveled over her cheek, his hot breath fanning flames of desire deep
within her. Thoughts formed in her mind, then scattered like the wind when his
fingers skimmed the curve of her breast. “Brad, please. I can’t think when you do
that.”
“Maybe I don’t want you thinking.” He softly nipped her tender earlobe.
“Perhaps I want you incoherent beneath me, thinking only of me and what I can do
to you... I’ll drive all thoughts of Chadwick away and you’ll realize you belong to
me.”
Belong to him. Joy bubbled through her. Her love for him leapt and grew,
spreading swiftly to every cell of her body. For a brief instant, as his lips clamped
down on hers, as passion burst and sizzled inside her, she reveled in his
possession of her.
Then common sense took over. She’d belong to him, yes. But in any true
sense of the word would he belong to her?
Reluctantly she pulled away from him, stepping back and out of his reach.
Even in the darkened hallway, her withdrawal was evident in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Brad. I might be a modern woman, but I’m an old-fashioned girl. I
believe in marriage, and coming to that marriage... whole and intact.”
“You want some declaration of love, is that it? You need this –“ Grasping her
left hand, he flashed her ring at her. “This symbol of possession, to give yourself
permission to make love to me?”
Jerking away from him, she understood fully his insult. “I’m not for sale; I can’
t be bought and sold for the price of a ring. I’m a virgin, and I value that virginity. I
know that doesn’t mean a thing to you, but it does to me. I believe in marriage,
and in loving someone enough to commit to him for my entire life. That is what
this-“ she held her grandmother’s ring up - “is supposed to mean. I admit I’m
attracted to you, and I’m certain you’re right, that things would be wonderful
between us, for a while at least.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to jump into bed with you.”
No matter how much I love you, she added silently.
He gazed at her for several moments, his face unreadable. When he spoke,
it was with regret.
“I’m not looking for marriage, Zee. I think you and I are good for each other,
and we could have a great relationship, probably for several years. But I’m not
going to get married and find myself living in hell. I’m sorry.”
Tears burned her eyes, but she fought them down. She wasn’t about to fall
apart in front of Brad Pearce.
“I’m sorry too,” she whispered, her voice choked.
He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers as he gazed into her eyes.
She could see the turmoil deep within him, and she wanted to cry out to him, Don’t
walk away! Don’t leave me! You need me as much as I need you!
But she remained silent. She would never beg, not Zenith Somersbee. No,
she would never beg.
So she stood there, a silent victim to a shattering heart, as Brad turned away
and left her.
Only when the door shut did she let the tears flow.
