How To Romance A Runaway Bride

“What was that all about? Clearing the room.” She glanced at the hotel staff nervously hovering just a few yards away. “Are those your minions? Are you going to have them escort me off the property or something?”

Allegra laughed.

Zander didn’t. Not even close. “Those are my employees. I’m the CEO of this hotel. No one is going to escort you off the property, but come on, Allegra. You can’t be serious right now. What are you doing here? And why on earth are you wearing that?”

He waved a hand at her gown, but didn’t seem to look directly at it. In fact, he appeared to avoid looking directly at her altogether and instead focused on a spot somewhere above her head.

This was getting more annoying by the minute. She’d just bailed on her wedding. She was mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted. She needed a nap and a good long cry. Not an argument. Especially an argument that had somehow started without her.

“I’ll tell you why I’m wearing this as soon as you explain why you’re being such a jerk. You used to be nice.” She had no intention of confiding in him. Frankly, she couldn’t think of a more humiliating idea. And she didn’t want to cry in front of him, but bitter tears were already stinging her eyes. A sob caught in the back of her throat.

She should be married right now, but here she was. Alone. Just like always.

How had everything gone so horribly wrong?

She looked Zander up and down, from the top of his perfectly groomed head to the tips of his wing tip–clad toes. She wished he wasn’t so good-looking. It made his new, smug attitude much more annoying. “What exactly is going on here?”

Zander’s gaze narrowed. He crossed his arms over his chest, and Allegra pretended not to notice how much broader that chest had gotten since eleventh grade.

“What’s going on is my birthday party. My thirtieth birthday,” he said with a tone that implied she should have known.

Ten years ago, maybe even five, she would have. But Allegra had spent more than a decade trying so hard to eradicate bad memories that some of the good ones slipped through the cracks. The bad ones never did.

Her gaze strayed toward the birthday cake on the table in the center of the room. She’d run out on a wedding and crashed her oldest friend’s birthday party all on the same day. And if the woman standing beside the cake looking slightly forlorn was any indication, she’d also interrupted Zander on a date.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ruined your party. Happy birthday.” She swallowed. Something still didn’t seem quite right. Why would Zander, who so clearly had grown into an adult man, be so upset about a birthday party?

She didn’t care. This painful little reunion was over. Allegra had more important things to worry about—things like picking up the shattered pieces of her life. Again.

She gathered her billowing skirt in her hands and moved in the direction of the ballroom’s grand double doors. With any luck, she could somehow make it to the hotel’s registration desk without bumping into any of her wedding guests. Or, heaven forbid, the press. “I’ll just get a room and—”

Zander cut her off. “Stop, Allegra. This isn’t happening.”

“What’s not happening?” Ugh, was the hotel full? Couldn’t Mr. Hotshot CEO pull some strings and get her a room?

She hated to ask him for a favor, especially when he was looking at her like he’d love nothing more than to turn her out on the street in her Vera Wang. But there were reporters outside. She needed a room. And she really, really needed to get out of her wedding dress and into something else. Anything else. Pronto.

“This. Us.” Zander inhaled a deep, measured breath. Then he finally looked at her. Really looked. Allegra almost wished he hadn’t, because these weren’t the same eyes she remembered from her childhood, full of innocence and hope. She didn’t know the man who belonged to these eyes. “I won’t marry you, Allegra. Not now. Not ever.”

Chapter Two (#uc4a3fe3c-87dc-516b-9a15-605c6a5dc35d)

Zander crossed his arms and told himself he’d done absolutely nothing wrong, despite the glare his mother was currently aiming at him from across the ballroom. He’d probably get an earful from her later on. Emily Wilde was no shrinking violet. She was a woman with strong opinions and a tendency to meddle, and now that Zander’s younger sister was happily engaged as well as dancing with a major ballet company, Emily no longer felt the need to hover over Tessa. The family matriarch had moved on to Zander’s personal life instead.

Oh, joy.

She wanted him married. She wanted grandchildren, preferably a boy, who could ensure that the Wilde family name and legacy would live on long after she was gone. Thus she made Zander curse his status as the only male offspring on a regular basis. He’d just as soon let some other guy get married and carry on the family name. Except there wasn’t another guy. Just him, a fact that was all the more painfully obvious now that he had a bride standing in front of him.

I won’t marry you, Allegra. Not now. Not ever.

Granted, it might have sounded a bit harsh, but he’d only said what needed to be said, plain and simple. Emily would no doubt accuse him of causing a scene, which was absurd. If anyone was causing a scene, it was Allegra.

She’d crashed his birthday party. In a wedding gown. Had she honestly expected him to just run off into the sunset and marry her? Had she gone insane since she’d left town?

She peered up at him, lush lips pressed together and a cute little wrinkle in her forehead. She didn’t look crazy. She looked confused. Confused and undeniably gorgeous. Looking into her luminous blue eyes made Zander’s chest hurt for some strange reason. He focused once again on the sparkling chandelier hanging over her head. That dress...those eyes—it was all too much.

“Marry me?” Her voice rang with incredulity. And if Zander wasn’t mistaken, a fair amount of amusement.

He lifted an eyebrow. You’re the one in a wedding dress, sweetheart.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, deadpan.

Zander didn’t say a word, but simply held her gaze. He’d said his piece. There was no way he’d be held to a silly promise he’d made as a kid. Now she just needed to go back to wherever she’d come from before she embarrassed herself further.

Allegra’s gaze narrowed, as if she was trying to peer inside his head. Then her pretty pink lips curved into a grin. She was smiling? Now?

Maybe she really was unstable. The poor thing.

Zander reached for her hand. A mistake. A huge one. A long time ago, he’d read something in a magazine article that said a simple touch could possess memory, a notion he’d dismissed as sentimental nonsense. Memories lived in the realm of the mind. They were made up of thoughts, images and unflinching emotions. How could a person’s flesh be capable of such complexities?

But the moment his fingertips connected with Allegra’s, something strange happened. His limbs felt looser all of a sudden, and his spirit lifted. He remembered the soaring sensation of holding Allegra in his arms and twirling across the dance floor. He remembered ice-skating in Central Park, a lacy veil of snow in Allegra’s hair and his heart pounding hard in a darkened museum. He felt like a kid again. It was like being knocked flat by a New York blizzard.

He dropped her hand and recrossed his arms. Revisiting the past had no place on his current agenda. She needed help. Obviously. He should call someone, but who? She no longer had any family in New York.

Did she have any family left at all? Anywhere?

“Look, Allegra—” he began.

She cut him off. “You seriously think I’m here because I want to marry you?”

She let out a giggle, then appeared to make a feeble attempt to keep her mouth shut. It was no use. Another giggle escaped, louder this time, until she was quite literally laughing in his face.

Allegra’s laugh hadn’t changed a bit. Once upon a time, it had been one of Zander’s favorite sounds. Not anymore. “You find the idea of marrying me amusing, do you?”

“Actually...” She cleared her throat and managed to collect herself. For the most part. There was still far too much snickering going on for his taste. “I do.”

“‘I do.’” Zander lifted an eyebrow. “You even sound like a bride.”

That managed to stop her snickering. “Oh, get over yourself. I haven’t even seen you in thirteen years.”

Actually, it was closer to fourteen. Not that Zander was counting. He clenched his jaw to keep himself from opening his mouth and saying it out loud.

Allegra’s smile faded. “You’re serious, aren’t you? You actually think I came here after all this time to drag you to the altar. Tell me, Mr. Suit, what kind of evidence do you have to support this delusion?”

Mr. Suit.

Her voice dripped with disdain. Zander probably should have expected that. He hadn’t. Then again, everything about this insane night was coming out of left field. Happy birthday to me.

“You mean other than your attire?” He ordered himself not to look at the dress again. But then he fixed his gaze on the delicate row of tiny shimmering crystals that ran along the curves of her shoulders.