Читать онлайн «A Wedding Worth Waiting For»
Автор Jessica Steele
“I can’t—not until I’m married!”
Total and utter silence met her remark—and Karrie wanted to die.
“Not until you’re married,” Farne stated, not so much as a question, but more as though he was letting that message sink in.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized again, feeling dreadful. “it’s important to me. ”
“Important?” He seemed to be having trouble taking it in. Then he cleared his throat. “Er—how important?” he asked slowly.
“Essential. I... ” Her voice tailed off—and silence followed.
Astonishingly—and very nearly causing her to go into heart failure—she distinctly heard him state quietly, “In that case, Karrie, we’d better get married. ”
True love is worth waiting for...
Dear Reader,
Welcome to our brand-new miniseries WHITE WEDDINGS. Everyone loves a wedding, with all the excitement of the big day: bedecked bridesmaids, festive flowers, a little champagne and all the emotions of the happy couple exchanging vows... .
Some of your favorite Harlequin Romance® authors will be bringing you all this and more in a special selection of stories.
You’ll meet blushing brides and gorgeous grooms, all with one thing in common: for better or worse, they are determined the bride should wear white on her wedding day... which means keeping passions in check!Happy Reading!
The Editors
A Wedding Worth Waiting For
Jessica Steele
CHAPTER ONE
THAT Tuesday started just like any other. Karrie was showered dressed and ready for work. She had debated whether or not to tie her blonde, gold-streaked shoulder-length hair back in some kind of knot, but had decided against it, and had brushed it into its normal straight, but just curving under at the ends style. Just because Darren Jackson had yesterday warmly remarked ‘I’d love to walk barefoot through your delicately pale, ripening corn-coloured tresses’ there was no need to get paranoid.
‘Poetical—but I’m still not going out with you’ she’d replied with a laugh. Darren, who worked in the same office, had been trying to date her ever since she’d started work at Irving and Small three weeks ago.
Karrie checked her appearance in her full-length bedroom mirror and felt she looked neat and ready for work in her smart burnt orange two-piece. She cast a glance at her—what were they?—‘delicately pale ripening corn-coloured tresses’, and, with a hint of a smile on her sweetly curving mouth at Darren’s over the top description, she left her room and went downstairs.
Any hint of a smile, however, abruptly departed as she entered the breakfast room. The chill in the air was almost tangible—her parents weren’t speaking. To each other, that was. What else was new? Karrie had grown up in a household where warring glances and icy silences alternating with storming rows were the norm.
‘Good morning!’ she offered generally, brightly, striving hard not to take sides.
