Society Bride. Elizabeth Bevarly

think they make a good match.”

      “They don’t love each other,” Garrett said.

      She seemed to think seriously for a moment before replying, “Maybe, in the long run, that will make things easier for them. Maybe not having love in their relationship will make their union stronger.”

      He narrowed his eyes. “Funny, but somehow, I had you pegged as the more romantic type. Hearts and flowers and love forever after. All that mushy stuff.”

      She dropped her gaze to the ground. “Yeah, well, maybe you had me pegged wrong. Just because they didn’t marry for love doesn’t mean the commitment between Mac and Kelly isn’t strong. They had more to think about than love. They have a responsibility and obligation to an unborn child.”

      She seemed struck by her own comment and lapsed into a thoughtful silence for another moment before continuing in a voice of enlightenment, “In fact, maybe it’s commitment that’s really most important in a marriage, you know? Not love, not passion but…responsibility. Obligation. Doing the right thing, I mean.”

      “Gee, keep saying it over and over like that, and maybe eventually you’ll start to believe it,” Garrett said wryly, wondering why she was trying to convince herself of something even he could see she didn’t truly believe.

      “No, really,” she insisted, glancing up. But she focused on something over his left shoulder and didn’t quite meet his eyes. “For centuries, marriage was used to fatten family fortunes and further political ambitions. Love never figured into it at all. And a lot of those marriages were probably just as enduring as the ones founded on love—more enduring, even. Today, still, there are probably lots of people who get married for reasons other than love.”

      “Gee, you really think so?” Garrett asked dryly, knowing she didn’t think it for a moment. In spite of his conviction, however, she nodded vigorously. A little too vigorously, he thought.

      “Yeah,” she said halfheartedly. “Probably.”

      He nodded, too, deciding that if Renee Riley wanted to live in a world where obligation and responsibility were more important than romantic love, he sure as hell wasn’t going to dissuade her of the notion. Why should he, when he was of exactly the same opinion?

      Still, for some reason, it bothered him to see a kid like her being jaded so young—especially when she probably hadn’t had a chance yet to be beaten down by life. Because everybody should get beaten down by life once in a while, right? What would be the fun otherwise? Sheesh.

      Naturally, Garrett’s jadedness came from experience. He’d graduated at the top of his class from the school of hard knocks, by God, and he wore his diploma around his neck where everybody could see it. At this point in her life, Renee Riley wouldn’t even qualify for a partial scholarship to his alma mater. She was just too ingenuous-looking, too fresh, too seemingly nice a kid. And he found himself wondering what on earth had made her lose her romanticism so early on.

      Ah, well. None of his business. He’d never see her again after tonight. So if she wanted to think there was a hope in hell of Kelly and Mac living happily ever after just because they’d made a commitment to each other, then Garrett didn’t see the harm.

      She leaned against the wall and stared into space, as if she were giving serious thought to a matter that might have global repercussions. Garrett was about to say something that might alleviate the heaviness of the mood when, below them, the city erupted in celebration. Car horns blared, people shouted, and faintly, from somewhere far off, the soft strains of “Auld Lang Syne” crept through the stillness of the cold night air.

      “Must be midnight,” he said, removing his hand from his pocket to verify his assumption with a glance at his watch. Sure enough, the second hand was just leaving the other two, which remained perched at twelve o’clock. “To the new year,” he added.

      He smiled at Renee and lifted his half-full glass of champagne in a toast before moving it to his lips for a celebratory sip. As he lowered it, he realized she had nothing with which to welcome in the new year, so he extended the glass toward her in a silent offer.

      After a moment’s hesitation and a brief shrug, she accepted it, tipping it toward her mouth—that red, ripe, luscious mouth—to enjoy a taste of the wine. After a single quick sip, she lifted it a second time, filling her mouth more generously. When she held the glass out to Garrett, he noted a perfect crescent-shaped stain of red on the rim where her lips had been. And deep down inside him, something tightened, raw and fierce.

      “Happy New Year, Renee,” he said quietly, smiling as he took the glass from her fingers.

      She smiled back. “Happy New Year, Garrett.”

      And then, because she seemed to expect more—or, perhaps, because he wanted more—he dipped his head and touched his lips to hers.

      Just like that.

      One little kiss, he told himself. Just a brief brush of his mouth over hers, to see if her lips were as soft and warm as they appeared to be. But, too late, he realized a single, idle caress was in no way enough to satisfy what suddenly became a deep hunger for the closeness of another human being. So instead of pulling away, Garrett took a step toward her, circling one arm around her waist to draw her closer still, at once fearful and hopeful that she would push him away.

      But she didn’t push him away.

      Although she pulled her head back for a moment, fixing her gaze on his in a silent question, she neither said nor did anything to discourage him. On the contrary, she opened one hand over his chest and curled her fingers into his lapel, as if she wanted to pull him closer. So Garrett lowered his head to kiss her once more. He brushed his mouth lightly over hers once, twice, three times, breathless, brief little kisses that meant nothing, nothing at all.

      Not until Renee kissed him back.

      Kissed him back with a tentative, teasing touch that unleashed something deep down inside him that galloped quickly to the surface and made him hungry for more. So, without thinking about what he was doing, Garrett tightened his hold on Renee and pressed his mouth more possessively over hers, covering it, filling it, plundering it.

      For a moment, she went limp in his arms, completely surrendering to his raw invasion. Then, just when he thought she would join in the fun, she jerked her mouth from his and hastily pushed him away. “I have to go,” she said raggedly, avoiding his eyes. “I’ve been gone a long time. My father must be waiting for me, worried about me.” And then, without a further word—or even a glance over her shoulder—she was gone.

      As he watched her disappear through the sliding glass doors on the other side of the terrace, Garrett stood silent amid a swirl of snow, wondering what the hell had just happened.

      Helplessly, he lifted a hand to his mouth and brushed his fingertips lightly over the lips Renee Riley had warmed with her mouth. Then he gazed at the perfect red stain of lipstick on his champagne flute. Without questioning his motives—or his sanity, for that matter—he turned the glass to place his own mouth over exactly that same spot and downed the rest of its contents in one long swallow.

      And he decided that, as new years went, this one wasn’t starting off well at all.

      Two

      The first week in April found Renee Riley feeling confused, agitated, anxious and seriously questioning her choice of a wedding dress. Because the one she’d selected for her impending—or rather upcoming, she hastily corrected herself—wedding to Lyle Norton suddenly seemed somewhat…inappropriate.

      It had been created from roughly a bazillion yards of delicate white lace and was decorated with hundreds of seed pearls and scores of tiny white satin roses. Its train went on for all eternity, making it the perfect dress for a bride who was giddy with joy and anticipation at the prospect of joining herself to a man with whom she was deeply and irrevocably in love.

      In other words, it wasn’t Renee’s cup of tea at all.

      She sighed heavily