Confessions of a Bad Bridesmaid (5 page)

EIGHT

When Olivia woke
up it felt as if she’d left her brain on the pillow. She put her hand to her head. It ached so much she thought she was having one of those brain aneurysm thingys. Then her brain caught up and told her about the dead rat in her mouth. She slapped her tongue on the top of her mouth, trying to wet it.

Opening her eyes slowly, she tried to remember where she was. The sun was streaming in through the gap between a set of pale flowery curtains. She was in a very big, very soft bed. Slowly, she looked around. She was in a bedroom. Teal-blue wallpaper printed with spring flowers surrounded the walls and near the door was a dark wooden dressing table. The mirror was facing her. Her hair was sticking up everywhere and there were black circles under her eyes. And she was naked. Except for her ludicrously small G-string. And she had no idea how she’d got here, where she was, or why she was naked.

An awful thought fell into her mind and she looked beside her. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. She was alone. Thank God.

Slowly and carefully she eased herself out of the bed. In the corner were her bags—all stacked up neatly. Next to the green lamp on the bedside table was a bottle of water and her face cream. She couldn’t have been too drunk if she’d managed to find her cream and think about water. She took a long slug of the water before getting up to move closer to the dressing table. Her make-up was all off. Except for the dark kohl eyeliner around her eyes, which was impossible to get off without the proper cleansers. She felt a little better. She must have been sober enough to remove her make-up.

Turning to her bags, she moved slowly, allowing her head to catch up. She needed a shower. And a cup of tea. And probably a big, fat, greasy bacon and egg roll. Her stomach growled in agreement. She was starving.

She found her clothes and her shampoo and all the other things she needed in the morning in order to look respectable and bundled them up. But where was the bathroom? Pulling out her short satin kimono, she slipped it on before heading to the door. She hadn’t had a chance to figure out how this huge house worked last night. All she’d seen was that big long room with the fireplace and the ballroom where the party had been held.

How had she managed to find her way up here?

Peeking out through the door, she saw a long, deserted hallway. There had to be a bathroom somewhere. Padding silently along the wooden floor, she counted doors so she’d know how to get back. With relief, she spotted a door that had a picture of a shower on it, with the word
Bathroom
. Thank goodness these people had had the foresight to imagine half-naked women wandering the halls looking for a bathroom and labelled their doors.

Slipping in, Olivia was greeted by an enormous room. On one side was a wooden vanity unit with a large mirror, and at the end of the room, under the window, was an enormous copper bathtub. And that was it. No shower. Just a sink and a tub.

Sighing, she put her things on the vanity and took another look at her disgraceful state before shaking her head and heading for the bathtub. A bath was no match for a shower. Standing beneath hard rushing water and soaking your head was the only fix for a hangover as big as this one. But there
was
no shower—only this enormous tub that would probably take six days to fill.

Olivia tried to piece together the events of last night as the hot water ran loudly and the steam rose.

She remembered the uncomfortable car-ride with Edward and the sight of this enormous castle. She also remembered Fiona and how upset she was. She’d told Edward, warned him not to be mean to her friend. A little niggle of regret nipped at her. Was it really Edward’s fault his family were mean? But then...Bunny. Laughing at her. Making her feel awkward and stupid.

The party had swirled around her and she remembered the champagne—how many glasses had she drunk? Then Chester/Hester/Casper and the man with the beautiful skin. She’d finally started having some fun until Edward had come and scared them away. Then...then he’d taken her outside.

The bathtub was filling quickly. She splashed some water onto her face.

The terrace. She was looking at the stars. The saucepan was upside down.

Then...then...

Oh, no.

No.

She remembered cuddling Edward. He’d said something nice. Recited poetry. Surely she hadn’t fallen for poetry? But Edward didn’t like her. No—he’d pushed her away. She felt the rush of heat rise up her neck. He’d pushed her away. She must have thrown herself at him.

She shed her kimono and lowered herself into the water. It felt so good and she hoped it would wash a little of her shame away. She found a facecloth and soaked it in the water, placing it over her face. Maybe she could hide up here all day. She didn’t want to face Fiona. Or Will. Or Bunny. Or Edward. Definitely not Edward.

How could she be so stupid? How drunk had she been last night?

Half an hour later Olivia knew she couldn’t hide any longer. Her hair was washed, her body clean and her fingers were starting to wrinkle. Quickly she climbed out and rubbed a soft towel over her skin before slipping into her clothes and wrapping the towel around her hair.

Questions about last night still lingered. Like how she’d found her way to her bedroom. And what had happened after she’d thrown herself at Edward?

Peeking out of the door, she decided to make a run for it. She counted the doors and was in the comfort of her bedroom in seconds. She had to go downstairs. She couldn’t hide up here all day. Fiona had said something about wedding get-to-know-you activities, or something daggy like that. Which sounded like sensible shoes activities. She was sure she’d packed
one
pair of sensible shoes.

After blow-drying her hair till it was straight and shiny, and painting on her face, Olivia was ready. Ready to face everyone. So, with a toss of her blonde locks, she took a deep breath and opened the door.

* * *

‘Put that bloody thing away, Edward.’

Edward forced down a deep sigh. His father was irritable this morning. He’d been snapping at everyone while his mother barely spoke a word.

‘I’m expecting a call.’

‘Put it away, Ed. Fiona and I are going for a walk into the village—why don’t you come with us?’ Edward could think of dozens of reasons why he didn’t want to join his lovesick brother and future sister-in-law on their walk into town. But he was here to make things easier this weekend, not harder.

‘I have some work to do, but I’ll meet you there later.’

‘Work! You never stop, Ed. Why don’t you come with us? Rosie and I are going to the pub. There’s little else to do here in the wilderness.’

Bunny was helping his mother cook breakfast, which was lucky as his mother kept stopping to stare out of the window.

Bunny’s friend Rosie smiled at him. She was a strange-looking girl. Her teeth were too big for her mouth and her eyes too big for her head. And she slurped when she talked. He’d barely spoken to her, but for some reason the girl had taken a liking to him.

‘Oh,
do
, Ed,’ she slurped. ‘We only have Casper and Hugo with us, and they’re being such bores.’

She batted her eyelashes and Edward almost laughed.

‘Maybe later.’

He felt good this morning. He’d been up since six. He’d been for his run, gone out to the terrace to clean up the smashed glass from last night, had a phone conference with the Defence Office and managed to work through part of a problem with the new fiscal policy. Getting work done always made him feel good. But there was something else this morning. Something that was making him feel good and at the same time making him nervous. And he knew what it was. Olivia.

He flicked the pages of the paper in front of him. He couldn’t figure her out. Angry and fiery one minute, drunk and needy the next. But she was interesting. And charming when drunk. Giggly and smiling and asking for his help. She’d enjoyed it when he’d rubbed her face with cream.

A sharp pain shot through his belly and straight into his groin. He remembered the way she had bitten her lip when he was rubbing her. He’d almost done something he was sure he would have regretted. But he hadn’t. He’d controlled himself and left her to sleep. Alone. Even though he’d had to physically push his shoes into the floor to stop himself from getting into bed with her. Especially after she’d whipped off that ridiculous dress and then her bra.

His hands went still. Her breasts were perfect. Even better than he’d thought they would be. Full and heavy and a handful. And her nipples... Rose-pink and standing to attention—with that sensual swirl of colour around the nipples begging to be kissed...

‘Hello—we’re up!’

‘Oh, good Lord, the Blowhards have arrived.’ Edward’s father folded up his newspaper. ‘I’m leaving.’

Which was exactly what Edward wanted to do at the sight of the two silliest men in England.

‘Regina, the beds were
divine
last night,’ gushed Hugo.

‘Pity we were alone in them, though,’ guffawed Casper Bolton-Smythe.

The hairs on Edward’s neck stood on end.

‘You were alone?’ Bunny asked between bites of crunchy toast. ‘You were looking pretty pally with The Peacock.’

Laughter fell all around the group.

Edward stood up. ‘Bunny, that’s enough...’ He started to tell his sister what the rules were, but stopped when he saw her.

Peeking through the rails of the stairs.

She looked small today. Much smaller than she had yesterday. Slowly she moved down, silently stepping on each step and cautiously looking around. Then her eyes met his and they locked. She looked like a fox caught in the glare of a light. Terrified. He stood still and looked back. He wanted to go to her, but he didn’t move in case he spooked her. She started to descend the stairs again and he felt himself holding his breath. For some reason.

His heart started to beat faster. Had she heard Bunny? Was she all right?

Something about Olivia made him lose focus. He should be watching his mother, or thinking about keeping Will calm before the wedding. Instead his whole brain was filled with
her
. She was wearing jeans and a tight white jumper which made her tan stand out. Her eyes were slashed with make-up and her lips were pink. Her hair was long and straight. She looked fashionable and slick but he didn’t take any notice of that. He saw underneath all her armour.

She was terrified; he could see it in the way her eyes darted around the room before resting back on his. Begging him to help her. And he wanted to—but he couldn’t. She couldn’t rely on him. His family he could control. They knew what to do and how far they could go. This girl seemed to have no limits. When she was angry she went off. When she was upset her eyes filled with tears. And every time her emotions shifted his did too. Which was highly disconcerting and not what he was used to. Steady, grey, dull, solid. That was his world. Olivia was too emotional, too highly strung, too colourful—and it was too much for him.

NINE

‘Morning,’ Olivia mumbled.

Eight sets of eyes were staring at Olivia as she stood frozen on the stairs. Bunny’s eyes were travelling up and down her length and Hugo was mumbling something low to Casper. And Edward was staring.

She must have really made a fool of herself last night. His expression was hard. Unfriendly. She wanted to die. Or go home. But she couldn’t. She was here for Fiona. So instead she found herself at the bottom of the stairs, avoiding the silence and the stares and smiling at Fiona.

‘No feathers this morning, Olivia?’

Bunny and her horse-faced friend laughed.

‘I only wear my feathers on special occasions.’ Olivia smiled, trying to make a joke.

‘Oh, shut up, Bunny. The feathers were fabulous.’ The cold arm of Casper Bolton-Smythe slipped around Olivia’s waist. ‘You’re just jealous you can’t pull them off as well as Liv.’

He smiled down at her and she squinted against the brightness of those white teeth. Her sister had used to use bicarbonate of soda to whiten her teeth. She wondered if Casper did the same.

‘Morning, Olivia, how are you feeling today?’

Edward’s deep voice held a gruff undertone. As if he was angry at her. Probably angry that she’d thrown herself at him last night.

‘Fine,’ she mumbled, before taking a seat next to Fiona.

Olivia shifted awkwardly, still feeling eyes on her.

‘I’m starving,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t count on anything edible,’ Fiona whispered back.

Will’s mother was staring out of the window, a pair of tongs in her hands. The smell of burnt bacon filled the room.

‘Mum!’ Bunny jumped up, but Edward reached his mother before Bunny could. He took the tongs and pulled the bacon out of the pan before rinsing it under cold water. His mother just stared at him and smiled.

Quickly and efficiently Edward got out another pan and put on more bacon and some sausages. He cut up some tomatoes and put them in the pan too.

‘Go and sit down, Mum. Honestly—what’s wrong with you today?’ Bunny’s impatient voice sounded across the din.

Edward’s mother dutifully sat down at the kitchen table and continued to stare out of the window. Edward poured a cup of tea and brought it to her, then sat back down at the table.

‘So, what are the plans for today, Fi?’ Olivia asked, crunching into the toast Fiona offered.

‘We’re going for a walk into the village. Will says there are some wonderful views along the way.’

‘Views? I’m going back to bed.’ Hugo grabbed a piece of toast and headed up the stairs.

‘Well, I
like
views. Especially this one.’

Once more, Olivia felt Casper’s arm snake around her shoulders.

Olivia had had enough of being polite. This snake was just not getting the hint. She grabbed his hand and lifted it up and over her head.

‘Perhaps you’re due to have your eyes checked, Casper? There is certainly nothing spectacular about this view—and even if there were I’m not sure I’d want you looking at it.’

Casper’s eyes went hard for a moment. Then it passed and a silly smile spread across his mouth.

‘Ooh, a challenge. I do like a challenge.’

‘God, Casper, you are such a sleaze,’ offered Bunny as she scooped bacon out of the pan and onto Olivia’s plate.

Olivia didn’t hesitate; she dug in desperately as if she hadn’t eaten in days.

‘Slow down, Olivia, you
will
be fed again.’

Olivia didn’t miss the disdain in Bunny’s tone. She glanced up, her mouth full of bacon. Bunny looked impossibly cool again today, fashionable without wearing one trendy thing. The look on Bunny’s face made Olivia feel even more uncouth and small-town than she was.

She swallowed hard. ‘Hungry,’ was all she could say.

‘Let her eat, Bunny. You
are
in a mood,’ said Casper, sitting down next to Olivia.

Edward went to the sink to fill the kettle. Olivia glanced at him as he walked past. Today he was dressed in jeans that hugged his butt and a knitted navy jumper. He looked warm and cosy and impossibly sexy. She couldn’t help wondering what he’d look like first thing in the morning. Before he got dressed. All sleepy and sexy and reaching for her...

‘Are you hung-over, Liv? I didn’t realise you’d had that much to drink. Did you get to bed all right last night?’ Fiona sipped her tea and considered Olivia with her large brown eyes.

‘I was fine. I got into bed and washed my face and...and...and...’ Realisation hit her in an instant.

She looked at Edward, who was now watching her with a strange look on his face. She hadn’t found her way to her room on her own last night. Edward had
carried
her. She rubbed her neck. She’d been banging into him as he climbed the stairs. Then he’d put her in bed and...her dress... It had been sticking into her. He’d unzipped it. And...

Olivia felt the blood drain from her face. She remembered. She’d pulled her dress off. Then her bra. Her
bra
! She’d been naked and he’d been there. She quickly turned away from Edward’s knowing gaze.

She remembered everything now. He’d been close. So close she’d sniffed him. Sniffed him like a dog. He’d smelt good too. Then—oh, God. He’d taken her make-up off and she had demanded he rub cream onto her face. No wonder he was looking at her like that. As if she was an idiot. Because she was. A pathetic, drunken idiot who threw herself at men.

All of a sudden her hunger dissipated. She stood up. She had to get out.

‘Actually, I think I’m done. I might go for a run.’

She felt hot and suddenly couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Edward. He’d seen her naked. And without make-up! Even her mother hadn’t seen her without make-up. Not since she was fourteen anyway.

‘I’m going for a run. I’ll meet you in the village later.’

She didn’t really feel like running. The thought of her brain jiggling was making her sick.

‘Give me ten minutes and I’ll come with you.’

No, no,
no
. Not Edward. Not him. He’d seen her drunk. Needy. Desperate. Asking him to—oh, God! She’d asked him to stay. Patted the bed so he’d sit next to her. She felt dizzy. She had to get out.

‘Actually, I don’t think I
will
run. I might walk. Yes, a walk. I am feeling a little sick, Fi; I might go for a walk.’

‘Excellent. I’ll meet you at the back door.’

Edward’s eyes were fixed on hers. He wasn’t letting her go. Her shoulders slumped. He obviously had something to say and she’d have to face him some time. So she said nothing more and turned to head back up the stairs.

* * *

‘Edward, I can explain. I was jet lagged and I hadn’t eaten in two days, and Fiona was upset, and that champagne just went to my head...’

Olivia had wrapped her fluffy coat around her but she was still cold, and they hadn’t even left the house yet. They were in the mud room, pulling on wellies and fighting two Irish Wolfhounds for space.

‘Here.’ Edward pulled something plasticky and puffy from the closet and handed it to Olivia. A coat. A big, ugly, puffy coat.

‘What’s this?’

‘You’ll freeze to death in that pathetic thing you call a coat, and I’m in no mood to talk to the authorities today. Put this on. It’s one of Bunny’s.’

Bunny wore
this
? It didn’t look like anything Bunny would wear, but when she slipped it on she knew there was no way she was taking it off. It was lined with wool and the warmest thing she’d ever had on her body.

Edward opened the door and between the dogs and the coat she managed to bump into him as she passed. His hot breath hit her cheek and a warm trickle of heat flooded her veins. She’d never known a man to emit as much heat as Edward did. Nor had she ever known a man to smell as good as he did.

She pushed past, ignoring the bubbles that had popped in her belly.

‘Edward, I’m so sorry...’ she began again once they were outside, trudging through a thin layer of frost and ice.

‘Stop apologising.’ Edward’s hands were shoved into his pockets and the collar of his grey coat was up. ‘You had a rough day. You drank too much champagne. It happens.’

‘But I... I...’
Threw myself at you. Tried to kiss you.
Heat rushed up and burned Olivia’s cheeks. As if someone like Edward would ever kiss
her
.

She sneaked a quick look at him. Today he was even taller and more handsome. Even more unattainable. He probably kissed tall, elegant women with names like Binky and Squidge. Women whose Daddies owned empires and who spent the weekends skiing in the Alps. Not trashy, try-hard foreign girls like her.

‘You needed help. I helped you. It was nothing.’

‘It wasn’t nothing. What if one of the others had found me out there on the terrace? Drunk.’

She shuddered as she thought of Casper. What if he had found her instead of Edward? She couldn’t see him carrying her up the stairs—it might have crumpled his jacket.

‘Thank you, Edward. For listening to my drunken rant and for taking me to bed.’ She gulped. ‘And for ignoring my propensity to throw myself at strange men,’ she added quietly.

She saw his face turn but he didn’t say anything. Instead he pointed to a fork in the road up ahead that led to a muddy pathway.

‘I want to show you something,’ he said as he walked alongside her.

When they got to the rise, the valley was spread out below them. Although there was a slight fog Olivia could see a patchwork of fields and acres of winter wildflowers. It felt magical. As if she’d entered another world.

Edward held her elbow as they headed towards an outcrop of rocks. He helped her find a foothold and they climbed to the very top. The rock was so large they could both stand on it. Edward moved closer, his sleeve against hers. She couldn’t feel it but she knew his skin was just beneath a few layers of fabric. The thought made her tingle.

Stupid, stupid, Olivia
, she berated herself. Always wishing for things she couldn’t have. Always falling for the wrong men. Not that she was falling for Edward. She just wanted to feel his skin. That was just lust. Hot, dirty lust. She glanced at his profile. So handsome, so strong. She’d never been with a man like that. She’d never even been able to talk to a man like that. And now here she was—stuck on a big rock with a man like that.

Edward moved to the edge and sat down.

‘Come. Sit,’ he ordered, holding out his hand.

She took it, still mesmerised by his jaw and the way it was twitching. Her skin buzzed beneath her glove at his touch, so she sat down and quickly pulled her hand away. She had to stop fantasising about this man. He’d seen her naked. With no make-up! There was no way he’d be fantasising about
her
.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she murmured, looking out across the fields. And so was he.
Shut up, Olivia.

‘We spent days out here when we were young. Hunting, fishing, exploring.’

His voice held a pang of longing. Fiona had said Edward hadn’t been back here in months. She’d said he hardly ever came home.

‘Do you miss it?’

Edward paused. ‘I do. I miss it very much.’

Looking through her hair, Olivia thought she caught his jaw working at the side of his face. She thought for a moment he was going to say something else, but he didn’t. So she lifted her hand to pull her hair across one shoulder. She’d have a better view of him if she didn’t have to peer through her hair.

At her movement he looked at her.

‘What’s that?’

A warm finger lightly pressed a spot right below her ear and Olivia went stiff. His touch was like torture. She remembered the way he’d touched her skin last night and the way she’d arched into his hand... An uncontrollable blush spread across her face. He drew his finger away and she reached up to her neck and rubbed the skin that still tingled.

‘It’s a tattoo. My sister has the same one.’

‘Are you and your sister close?’

‘Not particularly. Not now, anyway. We were when we were younger. But after she...’

For some reason she didn’t want to tell Edward about Ana. She didn’t want Edward to know. He was here, with her. Touching her skin and talking in that deep English voice. She didn’t want her sister interfering.

‘I keep my hair long so no one will see it.’

Olivia sat perfectly still as Edward’s face came closer.

‘What is it? An oar?’

‘A tennis racket.’ She shivered. He was still close. She could feel his breath on her neck. She wanted to close her eyes and push her neck into his lips, but he wouldn’t want that.

He came even closer and his scent circled around her. Warmth rolled off him in waves.

‘It’s cute,’ he said, close to her ear.

The tiny hairs on her ear stood to attention. Her nipples stood to attention. Her whole body was on alert. The green light was well and truly turned on and flashing. If he decided to throw her back on this rock, Olivia was pretty sure her long-forgotten parts would know what to do with the large, hard body of Edward hovering above them.

She had to get away from him—away from his scent and his warmth. She shifted her head, letting her hair fall back over the shoulder closest to him, but he lifted his hand and caught it.

‘Wait. Let me look.’

The way he spoke—all low and gruff—was as if he was saying something completely different. Something much hotter. Olivia’s bones disappeared.

She couldn’t remember the last time a man had spoken to her like that. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had been this close to her. No. She could. Just over a year ago. At her sister’s victory party. He’d kissed her in the hallway of her sister’s flat. Told her she was hot. But not as hot as her sister. She’d pushed him so hard the back of his head had hit the other side of the hallway. He’d sworn at her and left. Olivia had felt grubby and used.

But Edward didn’t make her feel like that. He seemed to bring her skin alive, to make her feel something else. Something much lovelier.

His hand held her hair and he pushed it back over her shoulder. His knuckles brushed her skin and she gasped. Slowly his lips came closer, until she could feel him breathing in her ear. So warm, so safe. Then, as her eyes rolled back, his warm lips pressed to the skin on her neck. Soft, gentle, reverent. She felt the wetness of the tip of his tongue as it came out a little to touch her skin and she shivered. The combination of his scent, his warmth, his strong hands and his hot lips made something burst deep inside. Something that she wasn’t sure she was quite ready to let out.