The Bridesmaid's Baby Bump

‘It’s extraordinary, isn’t it? The over-the-top opulence of a royal wedding... It isn’t something an everyday Australian guy usually gets to experience.’

Not quite an everyday guy. Eliza had to bite down on the words. At thirty-two, Jake headed his own technology solutions company and had become a billionaire while he was still in his twenties. He could probably fund an event like this with barely a blip in his bank balance. But on the two previous occasions when she’d met him, for all his wealth and brilliance and striking good looks, he had presented as notably unpretentious.

‘I grew up on a sheep ranch, way out in the west of New South Wales,’ she said. ‘Weddings were more often than not celebrated with a barn dance. This is the stuff of fairytales for a country girl. I’ve only ever seen rooms like this in a museum.’

‘You seem like a sophisticated city girl to me. Boss of the best party-planning business in Sydney.’ Jake’s green eyes narrowed as he searched her face. ‘The loveliest of the Party Queens.’ His voice deepened in tone.

‘Thank you,’ she said, preening a little at his praise, fighting a blush because he’d called her lovely. ‘I’m not the boss, though. Andie, Gemma and I are equal partners in Party Queens.’

Eliza was Business Director, Andie looked after design and Gemma the food.

‘The other two are savvy, but you’re the business brains,’ he said. ‘There can be no doubt about that.’

‘I guess I am,’ she said.

She was not being boastful in believing that the success of Party Queens owed a lot to her sound financial management. The business was everything to her and she’d given her life to it since it had launched three years ago.

‘Tristan told me Gemma organised the wedding herself,’ Jake said. ‘With some long-distance help from you and Andie.’

‘True,’ said Eliza.

Jake—the ‘everyday Aussie guy’—was good friends with the Prince. They’d met, he’d told her, on the Montovian ski-fields years ago.

‘Apparently the courtiers were aghast at her audacity in breaking with tradition.’

‘Yet look how brilliantly it turned out—another success for Party Queens. My friend the Crown Princess.’ Eliza shook her head in proud wonderment. ‘One day she’ll be a real queen. But for Gemma it isn’t about the royal trappings, you know. It’s all about being with Tristan—she’s so happy, so in love.’

Eliza couldn’t help the wistful note that crept into her voice. That kind of happiness wasn’t for her. Of course she’d started out wanting the happy-ever-after love her friends had found. But it had proved elusive. So heartbreakingly elusive that, at twenty-nine, she had given up on hoping it would ever happen. She had a broken marriage behind her, and nothing but dating disasters since her divorce. No way would she get married again. She would not risk being trapped with a domineering male like her ex-husband, like her father. Being single was a state that suited her, even if she did get lonely sometimes.

‘Tristan is happy too,’ said Jake. ‘He credits me for introducing him to his bride.’

Jake had recommended Party Queens to his friend the Crown Prince when Tristan had had to organise an official function in Sydney. Tristan had been incognito when Gemma had met him and they’d fallen in love. The resulting publicity had been off the charts for Party Queens, and Eliza would always be grateful to Jake for putting the job their way.

Jake looked down into her face. ‘But you’re worried about what Gemma’s new status means for your business, aren’t you?’

‘How did you know that?’ she asked, a frown pleating her forehead.

‘One business person gets to read the signs in another,’ he said. ‘It was the way you frowned when I mentioned Gemma’s name.’

‘I didn’t think I was so transparent,’ she said, and realised she’d frowned again. ‘Yes, I admit I am concerned. Gemma wants to stay involved with the business, but I don’t know how that can work with her fifteen thousand kilometres away from our headquarters.’ She looked around her. ‘She’s moved into a different world and has a whole set of new royal duties to master.’

Eliza knew it would be up to her to solve the problem. Andie and Gemma were the creatives; she was the worrier, the plotter, the planner. The other two teased her that she was a control freak, let her know when she got too bossy, but the three Party Queens complemented each other perfectly.

Jake’s arm tightened around her waist. ‘Don’t let your concern ruin the evening for you. I certainly don’t want to let it ruin mine.’

His voice was deep and strong and sent a thrill of awareness coursing through her.

‘You’re right. I just want to enjoy every moment of this,’ she said.

Every moment with him. She closed her eyes in bliss when he tightened his arms around her as they danced. He was the type of man she had never dreamed existed.

The Strauss waltz came to an end. ‘More champagne?’ Jake asked. ‘We could drink it out on the terrace.’

‘Excellent idea,’ she said, her heart pounding a little harder at the prospect of being alone with him.

The enclosed terrace ran the length of the ballroom, with vast arched windows looking out on the view across the lit-up castle gardens to the lake, where a huge pale moon rode high in the sky. Beyond the lake were snow-capped mountains, only a ghostly hint of their peaks to be seen under the dim light from the moon.

There was a distinct October chill to the Montovian air. It seemed quite natural for Jake to put his arm around her as Eliza gazed out at the view. She welcomed his warmth, still hyper-aware of his touch as she leaned close to his hard strength. There must be a lot of honed muscle beneath that tuxedo.

‘This place hardly seems real,’ she said, keeping her voice low in a kind of reverence.

‘Awesome in the true sense of the word,’ he said.

Eliza sipped slowly from the flute of champagne. Wine was somewhat of a hobby for her, and she knew this particular vintage was the most expensive on the planet, its cost per bubble astronomical. She had consulted with Gemma on the wedding wine list. But she was too entranced with Jake to be really aware of what she was drinking. It might have been lemon soda for all the attention she paid it.

He took the glass from her hand and placed it on an antique table nearby. Then he slid her around so she faced him. He was tall—six foot four, she guessed—and she was glad she was wearing stratospheric heels. She didn’t like to feel at a disadvantage with a man—even this man.

‘I’ve waited all day for us to be alone,’ he said.

‘Me too,’ she said, forcing the tremor out of her voice.

How alone? She had a luxurious guest apartment in the castle all to herself, where they could truly be by themselves. No doubt Jake had one the same.

He looked into her face for a long moment, so close she could feel his breath stir her hair. His eyes seemed to go a deeper shade of green. He was going to kiss her. She found her lips parting in anticipation of his touch as she swayed towards him. There was nothing she wanted more at this moment than to be kissed by Jake Marlowe.

Yet she hesitated. Whether she called it the elephant in the room, or the poisoned apple waiting to be offered as in the fairytale, there was something they had not talked about all day in the rare moments when they had been alone. Something that had to be said.

With a huge effort of will she stepped back, folded her arms in front of her chest, took a deep breath. ‘Jake, has anything changed since we last spoke at Tristan’s party in Sydney? Is your divorce through?’

He didn’t immediately reply, and her heart sank to the level of her sparkling shoes. ‘Yes, to your first question. Divorce proceedings are well under way. But to answer your second question: it’s not final yet. I’m still waiting on the decree nisi, let alone the decree absolute.’

‘Oh.’ It was all she could manage as disappointment speared through her. ‘I thought—’

‘You thought I’d be free by now?’ he said gruffly.

She chewed her lip and nodded. There was so much neither of them dared say. Undercurrents pulled them in the direction of possibilities best left unspoken. Such as what might happen between them if he wasn’t still legally married...

It was his turn to frown. ‘So did I. But it didn’t work out like that. The legalities... The property settlements...’

‘Of course,’ she said.

So when will you be free? She swallowed the words before she could give impatient voice to them.

He set his jaw. ‘I’m frustrated about it, but it’s complex.’

Millions of dollars and a life together to be dismantled. Eliza knew all about the legal logistics of that, but on a much smaller scale. There were joint assets to be divided. Then there were emotions, all twisted and tangled throughout a marriage of any duration, that had to be untangled—and sometimes torn. Wounds. Scars. All intensely personal. She didn’t feel she could ask him any more.

During their first meeting Jake had told her his wife of seven years wanted a divorce but he didn’t. At their second meeting he’d said the divorce was underway. Eliza had sensed he was ambivalent about it, so had declined his suggestion that they keep in touch. Her attraction to him was too strong for her ever to pretend she could be ‘just friends’ with him. She’d want every chance to act on that attraction.