The Bride's Curse (6 page)

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Authors: Glenys O'Connell

BOOK: The Bride's Curse
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“I wondered if you’d come out.” He greeted her in that same rusty voice. It seemed a bit fainter now than the last time he’d spoken to her and he didn’t look at her as she sat down beside him. Horribly conscious of Noelia’s worried gaze from across the road, Kelly spoke to the man in barely a whisper.

“I don’t know who you are, but just say what you want and go away!”

He was silent for so long she would have thought he had gone if it hadn’t been for his pale presence on the bench. And he was getting paler. Stranger and stranger. She jumped when he finally spoke.

“I want some help. Once, a long time ago, I hurt two people I loved very much. Now I need to make it right … before I leave.” The sorrow in his voice tore at Kelly’s heart.

“Does this have something to do with that wedding dress you were so fixated on?”

“Yes, it does … ” His words were cut off as he disappeared before her very eyes. Coming along the sidewalk was Brett Atwell, the hunky guy who wasn’t afraid of consequences. The consequences of calling her Red, that is. This was the second time the ghost had taken leave quickly when Brett had appeared. Was it this man’s presence that disturbed the ghost so? And, if so, why?

Brett crossed the road toward her. “Hello, Red,” he said and grinned widely at her narrowed eyes. “I thought we could maybe grab some dinner together and try and get back on the right foot.”

“Just tell me one thing before I kill you. Did you see anyone sitting on this bench as you came toward me?”

He shot her a puzzled look. “No one except your own sweet self.” There was that dazzling smile again. So that settled it. If Noelia couldn’t see him and Brett couldn’t see him and if he could do that weird disappearing act, there was no other answer.

She was being stalked by another restless spirit.

As if it wasn’t enough that she was being stalked by a ghost, now she had The World’s Most Annoying Sexy Hunk looking down at her with that self-satisfied smile on his face. The smile she itched to smack—or kiss away.

Get a grip, Kelly girl.

“Let’s get this straight. Why do you want to have dinner with me? What do you think I am? A masochist? Do I look like a woman who wants to spend the evening getting indigestion from serious irritation by a stray guy who wants a wedding gown of his own and accuses her of stealing things?”

Brett had the good grace to look embarrassed. “That’s one of the reasons I’m asking you to have dinner with me. I need to explain that. I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

“Only one of the reasons?” She raised an eyebrow and gave him the Death Glare.

“Well, there are other reasons … ” Seeing her about to implode, he raised both hands in surrender. “You can’t blame a guy for trying, can you?

“Just know this: I’m ex-military and I learned a few things from the Marines.”

“I’ll bet there was no shortage of volunteer teachers … Ouch!” He grabbed her wrist in strong fingers before her hand connected with his face.

“That was play. If I’d really meant to hurt you, you wouldn’t be in any condition to even say ‘ouch,’” she warned.

He hung his head in a playful caricature of shame. Kelly didn’t believe it for an instant. “I am so sorry; it’s just that, when I’m nervous, I turn into a clown. Actually, I’m quite a serious guy.” He even managed a serious guy expression. “Like, I’m seriously asking the most gorgeous woman I have met for years, maybe ever, to have dinner with me while I explain to her why I may have appeared to be a jerk.”

“You’re telling me that the jerk part was only an appearance? Not for real?”

“Cross my heart and hope … ”

“No, that’s okay. The cross-your-heart part will do. We don’t need the hope-to-die part.” Kelly shuddered. Too many great guys she knew had died and she couldn’t bear to hear the words said even lightly. She studied the face of the man before her. He was attractive, with that blond coloring and the dark brown eyes a girl could melt into … and she hadn’t gone on a date in so very long. Maybe she deserved to have a little fun. “So, where are we going to dinner? If it’s really posh, I might need to go home and change.”

The smile he gave her was dazzling and she felt more lighthearted than she could remember feeling in years. In spite of this guy’s foot-in-mouth syndrome, she really did like him.

Funny thing, attraction.

“How about the Midnight Garden? I’ve heard their food and atmosphere are both great and there’s a Swedish cook.”

Yeah,
Kelly thought
, and there’s supposed to be a resident ghost there, too.
Haunted places were definitely off her fine dining list. About all she needed was to have a counseling session with a restless spirit over some of their wonderful hot chocolate. “To be honest, I’m in the mood for something simpler, like maybe a fish burger and fries at the Marina Café?”

Brett smiled and Kelly’s pulse raced. “Ah, a lady after my own heart. I do so like a woman who eats real food.”

• • •

It turned out the Marina Café was the perfect spot for a first dinner date that wasn’t really a date. Or at least Kelly told herself it wasn’t a date. Brett seemed to have other ideas, judging from the way his eyes lingered on hers and his fingers seemed to creep across the table of their own volition to gently touch hers.

And she didn’t mind at all.

It had been a long time since she’d had such fun with a guy who made no bones about the fact that he enjoyed being with her, too. Her ex-fiancé Wayne’s abandonment had soured her on the idea of love, which was why she channeled her romantic nature into Wedding Bliss—creating the perfect wedding for other brides while hiding the hurt of her own broken engagement and latterly non-existent love life.

She decided to enjoy the feeling while it lasted and focus on the sexy guy sitting across the table from her. Wearing a dark blue polo shirt and jeans, he was definitely worth looking at. They talked about their childhoods, their work, and their dreams. As a bonus, he was well read and opinionated; they found themselves debating current affairs and having some hotly contested opposing views. Then their differences would dissolve in laughter as one or the other quipped and both laughed. And laughter led to sizzling glances and a warm feeling that spread all the way to her toes.

Reluctantly, Kelly broke the spell. “This has been lovely, Brett. I almost don’t want to spoil the evening by asking you what it was you wanted to explain?”

“Then don’t.” He reached over and held her hand again, his thumb brushing the tender spot on her palm. Heat flickered along her arm as awareness of the man enveloped her and she had to shake herself back into reality.

It would be nice to just forget everything and have fun. But his statement about an illegal sale still bothered her and she needed to clear the air. “You more or less accused me of buying stolen goods or maybe of stealing a dress myself. It’s going to niggle at me until I find out what you meant, so spill.”

He sighed and reached for his coffee.

• • •

How do you explain something like this without making your family sound like nut jobs?
Brett wondered, frowning. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to give Kelly a poor opinion of him. He was startled at that thought. After all, he barely knew the woman and already it was important what she thought of him. He found it hard to keep his hands away from hers, and man, that sizzling sensation when he touched her …

Drawing in a deep breath, he started: “I’m an engineer working for a non-profit organization and a lot of my work is overseas. I’ve been out of the country for about five months, working in sub-Saharan Africa. When I came home, I discovered my aunt was in a nursing home.”

He signaled to the waitress for more coffee, waited until she’d filled both their cups and left a selection of little creamer pots, and then went on. “I should back up a bit. My aunt Mary is the only relative I have left besides my sister, Sasha. Aunt Mary is my father’s sister. When I’m away I usually keep in touch, but where this assignment was, well, let’s just say there wasn’t much by way of communications infrastructure.

“Aunt Mary is something of a recluse and aside from myself and Sasha, she doesn’t see many people. Or any people, really. Sasha was supposed to be keeping an eye on her. My sister has just gone through her second divorce and decided to move into the family home while she got herself straight. “

Kelly was watching him, those lovely eyes of hers a deeper blue; he suddenly had the thought that he could spend hours watching them change from lighter to darker blue and to stormy gray, reminding him of the ocean in all its many moods. He drew in a deep breath and shook himself back into the topic at hand.

“So, to cut a long story short, Mary had a bout of pneumonia and Sasha, not being the nurturing type, decided she should go to a nursing home where she could get proper care while she regained her health. Unfortunately, my sister is enjoying having the house to herself and has left Mary in the home far longer than necessary. My aunt has become quite depressed. She’s got the idea that because she’s been under nursing care for so long, there’s really something very wrong with her and that we’re trying to hide it from her.

“She thinks she doesn’t have long to live, which is nonsense. She’s as strong as an ox, and not really all that old, either. She turned 65 last year and Sasha—my sister—and I wanted to have a party for her but she went ballistic and said she didn’t want to have to cope with a houseful of people she hardly knew poking about. But the idea that she’s dying has got into her head.

“Anyway, I’m going to get her home as soon as I can get a proper support system in place. In the meantime, convinced she’s about to die at any minute, she’s asking me to bring in her wedding dress. She wants to be buried in it.” Brett’s voice failed him at that thought and he focused on his anger toward his sister in order to stop tears pooling in his eyes.

“And this dress is the gown you’re looking for?” Kelly prompted.

“It seems that my sister—” Anger laced his voice now. “It seems that Sasha was a bit short on cash and thought she’d have an advance on what she expects to inherit from Mary by holding a little estate sale through a local auction house. The dress, a lace and silk item from a French designer, was one of the items that were sold. And your name came up as being the person who bought it.”

• • •

Kelly had already guessed, from his description, that he was referring to the dress now known as the Cursed Bridal Gown. Obviously, he wanted the dress back, but Kelly needed some time to think about all this. She couldn’t tell him she thought she had the dress, because she’d already sold it to Daria, a woman who knew what she wanted and was unlikely to change her mind. It was a conundrum that needed some thought. “I did buy a vintage gown at an auction in Derry, but whether or not it’s the dress you’re looking for is a moot point. I need to telephone the auctioneer and see if I can find out where the gown I have came from.”

Brett looked as though he wanted to challenge her on this, but then he shrugged. “Okay, I’ll give you a few days to do that, and we’ll talk again. In the meantime, how about we enjoy the evening?” He reached across the table and pushed back a curl of red hair, then traced her jawline with his thumb.

The effect was electric—Kelly shivered at his touch and knew she wanted more. At the same time she was just burning to question Brett about the dress’s history. Had it really been cursed? And why? And did she even believe in such things?

This wasn’t the time, though. They finished their meal and went out into the mild sea-scented evening. Brett reached for her hand and they strolled along Main Street, the breeze from the bay ruffling their hair and clothes, and awareness sparking between them. There was no need to speak as they just enjoyed the moment. When the breeze grew stronger and colder, Brett slipped off the jacket he was wearing and wrapped it around her shoulders.

A gentleman!
Kelly smiled her thanks but grew somber as she warned herself not to enjoy being wrapped up in his warm scent too much. After all, they hardly knew each other and in her experience even long-term relationships could shatter easily enough.

“It’s getting late, so let me walk you home.”

“My place is right on the edge of town, too far to walk in the dark,” Kelly replied. “But if you want to follow me in your car, perhaps you’d like to stay for a coffee before you head back to Derry? I’m actually on the coast road, so it’s not going out of your way.”

“Red, I’d be happy to go out of my way for you.”

Kelly all but growled. “How many times do I have to warn you about that nickname? Just remember, it’s lonely out where I live, and the sea … well, accidents happen.”

“Now you’re scaring me.” He looked anything but scared, Kelly thought. There was a masculine strength about Brett that suggested there wasn’t much that would scare him.

“I seriously doubt that.”

They parked on the laneway outside her house and were just walking on the garden path toward the front door when Kelly saw a bright shadow ahead of them, and a sharp pain lanced through her skull. She cried out, grabbed at her head, and slowly crumpled to the ground. Then she was falling, falling as shots rang out all around her under the hot desert sun …

Chapter Five

The world had turned white, completely white, and was so bright it made Kelly’s eyes burn. Was she dead? Was this the famous white light people talked about? She tried wriggling her fingers and toes, and everything felt intact. She doubted dead people could feel like that.

If only that demon, whoever he was, would stop shining that light …

As if her thoughts had communicated themselves to the demon, the light clicked off to reveal a pleasant looking man with café au lait skin and sad eyes. “Hello, Ms. Andrews. I’m glad you are back with us. It seems you had a fainting session. I am Paramedic Abbas Faheem.” He offered her a quick smile and turned his attention to the screen on his equipment pack.

Kelly squinted now that the light was gone. She took in her surroundings, realizing she was home and lying on the lumpy settee in her own living room, not that Other Place. The heat, the sand, the sound of gunfire were all gone.

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