Magical Weddings (29 page)

She risked a glance at him and the lack of judgement in his stance made her brave. “You do not care that I think to travel would be to increase knowledge?” she pressed.

“No I do not mind.” He turned from the balcony to study her. “I might even agree with you.”

Caterina inhaled sharply. “But yet you never wish to travel yourself?”

There was a moment’s hesitation on his part and then he confessed, “On the contrary.”

Caterina’s heart felt as if it had leapt out of her to nose-dive into the icy cold canal below, because with those three challenging words he made it impossible for her to continue pretending that it was Guido who had been romancing her all evening.

As if to expose her pretence further, in the moonlight, his blue-green gaze was crystal clear.

“Matheo.” She breathed out his name like a prayer and saw him close his eyes briefly.

The game they had both been playing all evening was dispelled, their night out of time in ashes at their feet.

Matheo turned to look out at the water. “I leave Venice tomorrow.”

Caterina felt regret seep into her bones, filling them up and making her ache. “You will not be here for my wedding,” she whispered.

He shook his head and softly said, “But I shall hold the memory of our dance and think of you on your wedding day.”

Caterina swallowed hard and knew that it was for him she had wanted to wear lace on her wedding day, not Guido. “You will return though?”

“Perhaps.”

“Only perhaps?” Disappointment sat like lead in her chest.

“I can’t have what I want here, Caterina.”

She closed her eyes and felt the press of tears. “But Venice is your home.”

“Don’t be sad,” he said turning back to her once more. “I suspect a piece of my heart will always be here.”

“Only a piece?” she questioned, wanting more—needing more if this was to be their last conversation.

His smile was grim. “You wish it to have all of me?”

A tear spilled over.

“No,” she said and dragged in a breath. She could not do that to him. She could not ask him to give her all of his heart when she was betrothed to another. But a small piece? Yes, she wanted that, she thought selfishly.

“You could ask someone to keep a piece of your heart safe here for you,” she said.

Gently he reached out to brush her tear away. “It would not be fair to ask.”

“But if they offer freely to keep it safe for you,” she persisted.

“Damn, Caterina, but you make me want to beg for a piece of your heart in return.” He closed the distance between them and rested his forehead against hers.

Caught up in the closeness of him she would have offered him anything.

Everything.    

“It would be a fair exchange,” she said.

Matheo lifted his head to look at her. “I’m not sure I deserve even the tiniest fragment after the masquerade I have pulled tonight.”

“I won’t miss a fragment,” she insisted, lifting her hands to his chest, starting to miss him before he had even left. “And I offer my piece freely.”

She felt his sigh whisper over her face and as his arms stole around her she knew that this was true. This was real. Real magic.

“And how do you offer this fragment of your heart?” he asked, his voice making her crave forever with him.

“Take it with your lips,” she whispered back, tilting her face up to his.

Rosie and Guy’s Apartment, Bath, England 2015

Cait woke with a start, the faint echo of the door buzzer filling the apartment.

That was one sexy dream she had been having. Struggling to sit up, she was a little grumpy that Rosie’s dress had chosen the exact moment to arrive when she had been about to lock lips with the TDH stranger in the mask.

In her dream there had been sparkling candle-light and music. There had been soft moonlight shimmering off midnight blue water. There had been gorgeous gowns and masquerade masks.

And drawing her in, wrapping her up in their searing heat, a pair of sinfully striking blue-green eyes that reminded her of…

“What the hell..?” Okay. This was bad. Really bad. What on earth was she doing, dreaming about Matthew Searle?

Scrambling up from the sofa, she could still feel the heavy beat of awareness pulsing through her body. Her lips were even tingling, for heaven’s sake.

“Just a moment, please,” she called out, nearly treading on the stack of papers that must have fallen onto the floor from the sofa as she slept. Rushing to the door she peered through the spy-hole and saw a woman battling to hold up a large garment bag. Throwing open the door she tried not to scowl as she held out her arms to take the wedding gown.

“Sign here, please,” she was told as a digital scanner and pen were thrust at her.

Caterina juggled the heavy bag and reached out to awkwardly sign for delivery. With a breezy goodbye the woman turned around to jog down the two flights of stairs and Caterina closed the apartment door.

The gown felt heavy in her arms and wandering back into the living room Cait decided to hook the hangar over the huge ornately-framed mirror that Rosie and Guy had propped up against their feature wall in order to make the room look twice the size it actually was.

Cait took a step backwards to start clearing up the stack of papers she had knocked to the floor. She would have a quick tidy up because she definitely wasn’t ready to try on her friend’s wedding dress yet.

Although she had agreed to help Rosie out, privately she still did not feel comfortable about trying the dress on. It was almost as if in doing so she was jinxing her own chances of ever getting to try one on for herself.

Not that she was getting married.

Yet! She forced herself to add, because it wasn’t as if the idea of getting married was repellent to her.

She just needed to establish herself in her career first.

And meet the right man.

Swearing under her breath she admitted that what would probably help was if she actually put herself out there to meet someone.

She swore again when into her head popped her mother’s voice with, “Cait, you’re never going to get anywhere if you don’t give a man even half a chance to fall in love with you. You’re so busy holding him at arm’s length, it’s a wonder he can reach you at all.”

Cait huffed.

So she was a little cautious.

What was the point of jumping straight in with both feet, if at the first opportunity, he was going to leave?

Not that she would ever dream of saying that to her mother. The less they talked about her mother’s first husband—Cait’s father—the better she and her mother got along. In fact, the less Cait mentioned any one of her mother’s three husbands, the better they got along.

It wasn’t as if her mother hadn’t shown Cait how important it was to have something to depend on in life, other than a man. Her mother had had wonderful careers that brought her much happiness and provided Cait with all the material things she needed growing up, and, before any of them had upped and left, she had had support from the men in her mother’s life too.

But really, instead of lamenting the fact that Cait hadn’t settled down with anyone yet, her mother should be giving her kudos for setting up her career before, rather than because of, someone leaving.

“Why would I wait,” Cait muttered aloud, “to believe some man is actually going to stick around when I could be getting just as much satisfaction from my career?”

When the heavy silence in the room seemed to bounce back off the walls at her she heaved out a breath and whirled around to find two goldfish staring at her.

Was it her imagination or did Ebb and Flow look like they were shaking their heads in despair at her as they lazily circled the waters of their goldfish bowl.

“Oh, don’t you two start,” she said as if they had ears. “Like I don’t know that work can’t provide me with
every
kind of satisfaction.”

A pair of gorgeous changeable blue eyes flashed behind her eyelids and to combat the stupid fluttering in her heart she opened her eyes to stare once more at the goldfish.

“Maybe I’ll start internet-dating next year.”

Ebb and Flow practically folded their fins and gargled, “Uh-huh. Sure you will.”

“Fine,” she grumbled, poking her tongue out at them. “I’ll start this year—straight after the exhibition.” She was ready, wasn’t she? Ready to exchange loneliness for possibility?

To avoid more potential fish-scepticism, Cait moved her gaze to where she had hung the dress. She could almost hear it whispering quietly for her to unveil it, and as she reached out, a sudden thought occurred to her. Firing with creativity she knew she had found the loveliest way to display some of the dress pieces of lace she had for the exhibition.

She would organise over-size mirrors in ornate gold, silver, and crisp white frames, and place the mannequins so that the public could see the lace from every angle. With the right lighting and reflections from the glass, the lace would show its true timeless and ethereal qualities.

Turning back to the sofa she picked up her laptop, opened a new document and started writing notes about what she would need and which pieces she would place where. When she had got down everything that was in her head she shut down her laptop, reached for her stack of notes and saw that she was looking at a sketch of a lace mask that matched the designs Caterina Rosso had become famous for.

No wonder she had dreamt about Venice and masquerade balls.

She thought of Matthew’s eyes and rolled her own. Subconsciously she must have added him into the mix of her dream after seeing the photograph stuck to the fridge.

At least she hadn’t dreamt about Guy, she thought with a stab of guilt.

With her work stacked neatly once more, she could put off trying on Rosie’s dress no longer and went in search of her friend’s wedding shoes.

Rosie had said it was the box at the back of the wardrobe in the tiny spare room, but exactly how many pairs of shoes had she bought and hidden in here away from Guy? After lifting the lid on several boxes and not seeing any ivory coloured ones, she finally located a white box, peeked inside and saw ivory and sparkles glinting back up at her.

Bingo.

Exiting the wardrobe she wandered back into the lounge, pausing to take a large gulp from the glass of red wine she had poured earlier for liquid courage.

She set the glass back on the coffee table behind her and stared at the opaque garment bag.

With a deep breath she reached forward and dragged the zip down, reached in, and gently eased the dress out.

Her breath came whistling out as she stepped back to stare at the wedding dress. Rosie was going to look truly beautiful in the Grace Kelly inspired gown with its acres of lace and subtle gold thread woven through the sleeves, neckline and matching veil.

Cait tried to imagine how she would look stood next to her friend in her co-ordinating 1950’s style bridesmaid dress of rich navy blue satin with navy lace overlay. She knew the groom’s party were going to wear traditional English navy morning-coats with gold waistcoats and that Guy would be wearing a bespoke waistcoat in white with a subtle brocade pattern stitched with gold thread.

As Cait bent to slip Rosie’s wedding shoes out of the box, she thought of quiet, steady Guy, waiting nervously for his bride, and then pictured Matthew standing by his side, rock-solid-confident as he distracted Guy with tales of what he had got up to while filming on location.

When Matthew had left, Cait had felt the hole more than she ever would have thought possible. Instead of looking to Guy to fill the gap though, she had licked the wound of Matthew leaving in private. It had been Rosie who had been there for Guy, pulling him out of his shell and helping him start his own accountancy firm.

Cait looked distractedly down at the gorgeous ivory satin high-heeled wedding sandals with diamante and crystal encrusted straps and wondered what Matthew thought about weddings and marriage. Maybe he had a girlfriend he was serious about.

Refusing to acknowledge the spike of jealousy she toed-off her brogues and went to work shucking out of her jeans and top. Standing in her best underwear and a pair of wedding shoes she searched for the concealed zip in the back of the wedding gown and dragged it down.

Sliding the safety loops of satin clear from the hangar she pooled the dress on the floor like she had seen the attendant do in the wedding-dress shop and stepped right into the gap she had created. Dragging the heavy material up her body was harder than she had imagined with only herself to make sure the gown was sitting straight but finally she put her arms through the gossamer thin lace sleeves and then brought her hands around to the back, found the invisible zip and started easing it upwards, bringing the gown together. She wouldn’t be able to secure the hook-and-eye right at the top so getting it mostly done up would have to do.

Hesitantly she turned and stole a look at her reflection in the mirror.

Wow.

The dress was stunning.

Inexplicably tears spiked her lashes.

She looked like a real bride.

All she needed was the veil and a bouquet.

As she took in the sight of her standing in Rosie and Guy’s apartment in a wedding dress, she forgot all about checking the hem length against the wedding shoes.

She forgot about everything.

Until the very definite sound of the front door opening intruded.

Cait’s heart jumped into her mouth. Had Rosie driven back from Oxford after all? She was all set to call out but then she realised it might be Guy who had driven back. She absolutely could not let him see her in Rosie’s wedding dress.

“Don’t come in here,” she shouted out in warning.

“Cait? Is that you?”

“
Matthew?
” Oh, no way. Somehow Matthew seeing her in Rosie’s dress felt way, way worse than the groom seeing her in it. Panicked, her hands tried to locate the fastening at the back of the gown. “Do not come in here—I mean it, Matthew, I’m not-,”

Too late.

The living room door was thrust open and there was Matthew filling up the doorway, his expression as he took in the sight before him, morphing from curious, to blazing hot, to down-right thunderous.