The Wedding She Always Wanted. Stacy Connelly

music and laughter coming from the reception. Emily leaned against the door for a second and took her first deep breath in hours. The evening was almost over, and she had survived, proving once and for all that embarrassment could not kill.

      Walking over to the vanity and the gilded mirror lit by matching sconces, Emily tried to focus on her hair, to doublecheck that none of the intricate curls were escaping the upswept style. But she froze, staring into her own reflection. Not checking her eyeliner for smudges or pulling her lip gloss from her beaded purse to dab on a second soft pink coat, but instead taking a good, long look at herself.

      What was it about her that she couldn’t even inspire faithfulness during a very brief engagement? Todd hadn’t even waited until the wedding to break his vows. That slap of reality made a dream of lasting love and commitment seem just that—an impossible dream.

      Except she had every faith that Connor’s love for Kelsey would last. Her cousin had found true love, as had her sister. Her parents’ thirty-plus years of marriage proved their lasting commitment. Which meant the dream was only impossible for her … because of something lacking in her.

      Emily turned the faucets on full blast and roughly scrubbed at her hands. Todd was the one at fault, and she needed to stop blaming herself. Yet the doubts picked away at her self-confidence like hungry, spiteful ravens.

       I know when a woman’s in love, and I know when she’s heartbroken. And you, sweetheart, are neither.

      On the dance floor Emily had done her best to dismiss Javy’s words. He knew nothing about her. How could he presume to look inside her heart? But the more she had to work to summon up her anger, the more she worried he was right.

      She’d been so sure she loved Todd; why else would she have agreed to marry him? And yet hadn’t she sensed their relationship wasn’t all it should have been? That he spent more time telling her what he thought she wanted to hear than actually talking to her? That they never looked beyond the surface of an engagement that looked good on paper?

      She now knew why Todd had been so willing to accept so little. The bitter question was, why had she?

      Keeping her gaze away from the mirror, Emily finished washing her hands. She’d just thrown the paper towels away when she heard a burst of laughter coming from the outside hall.

      Averse to coming face-to-face with anyone at the moment, Emily grabbed her small purse and ducked into the far stall.

      The restroom door opened, letting in a burst of music and laughter, along with two women. “Tell me! I have been dying to hear the whole story.”

      Emily’s stomach immediately clenched at the expectation in the woman’s voice.

      “Well.” Drawing out the moment, the second woman paused. “From what I heard, she found out her fiancé was cheating on her with the family chef.”

      “No!”

      “Yes, and it gets even worse! It turns out they have a child together. A boy, I think.”

      “Oh, that is horrible!” the second woman exclaimed, sounding all too overjoyed by the scandal.

      Humiliation burned in Emily’s cheeks at the delight the women were taking in her embarrassment. The details were wrong but close enough for her to realize her family had once again trusted the wrong person. She hadn’t spoken to anyone else about Todd’s infidelity or his reasons for proposing. And yet someone—her mother or sister, most likely—had talked to a close friend, no doubt swearing them to secrecy, for all the good it had done.

      The betrayal was minor compared to Todd’s lying and cheating, but for Emily, it was the last straw.

      With a definitive flick of her wrist, she unlocked the stall door. The two women spun in guilty tandem, but Emily didn’t spare them a glance. Instead, she moved toward the mirror. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind one ear, keeping her focus on her own reflection as she spoke. “It was the maid, not the chef. And she’s still pregnant. The baby hasn’t been born yet. If you’re going to talk about me, you might as well get the details straight.”

      A stunned silence accompanied her exit from the restroom—probably the first time either woman had stopped talking since they’d arrived—but Emily didn’t feel better. She hadn’t thought it possible, but if anything, she actually felt worse.

      She was leaving. Now. Before she gave everyone even more to talk about by foolishly bursting into tears at her cousin’s reception.

      Rounding a corner, she gasped when a pair of strong hands clamped on her shoulders, stopping her from running headlong into a tuxedoed chest. “Whoa! Where’s the fire?” Javy’s laughter trailed away, and he ducked his head to look into her face. His thick eyebrows lowered over his eyes. “Emily? Are you all right?”

      Desperate to escape, she said, “I—I have to get out of here.”

      “Okay.” Without questioning, he draped an arm around her shoulders and guided her toward an exit. But instead of a quick farewell before he went straight back to the reception, he followed her into the summer night air.

      Moonlight glinted on the surface of the nearby pool, and the multicolored lights played over the stream pouring from a rock waterfall. The peaceful setting was a sharp contrast to the turmoil churning inside her, reminding Emily this was her problem.

      Everyone else was having a good time. Everyone else should be having a good time … including Javy. She hadn’t missed the hungry looks several women at the reception had slanted in his direction. He could be with any one of them right now.

      Ignoring the twinge of regret, she turned to him and said, “You need to go back inside. You’re the best man. You have to give the toast and—”

      “Already did.”

      “You did?”

      “Yep. Short and sweet, just the way the guests like it. No one came here tonight to hear me talk.”

      “I’m sorry I missed it.” Despite his protest, Emily definitely enjoyed hearing Javy talk. The deep murmur of his voice held a hint of his Hispanic heritage and a trace of good humor, like he was ready to laugh at any given moment.

      “Hmm, me, too. I have to say, I was a hit. Especially the love song I recited in Spanish.”

      Uncertain if she could take him seriously, she protested, “You did not.”

      “I did. Spanish is one of the romance languages, you know.”

      Pig Latin would be one of the romance languages as long as Javy was the one speaking it. She was willing to bet every woman in the ballroom had gone a little weak at the knees listening to him, and maybe it was a good thing she hadn’t been inside.

      The memory of their dance still lingered, not only in her mind, but in every part of her body that had brushed his as they swayed together. She could still feel the softness of his hair on her fingertips, the broad shoulders beneath her hands and the press of his thighs against her own….

      Desire still tingled along nerve endings every place they had touched, and the last thing she needed was Javy’s Spanish love song as a soundtrack.

      Holding out his arm, he said, “Come on.”

      “Where are we going?”

      “For a walk. Unless you’d rather be alone.”

      Emily knew she should take the easy out he’d given her. Not because she actually wanted to be alone, but because being with a man of Javier Delgado’s reputation was not smart.

      Or maybe it was, she thought suddenly. After feeling like she’d lived her whole life with blinders on, maybe taking a walk with her eyes wide-open was the smartest thing she could do.

      Chapter Two

      Javy waited for Emily’s answer, anticipation picking up a beat inside him that he hadn’t felt for