A Risk Worth Taking

“Yeah?” He could hear the husky, lustful hope in his voice and wondered if she did.

“I hope you won’t mind. Sass said you’d be delighted. Your mum knows about it and she says that it’ll be wonderful.”

Suspicion replaced lust. “Really?” His instincts had spotted danger, but his mind couldn’t seem to keep up. “What?”

“I told Jake and Sass I’m up here on location for the next few weeks, and Sass invited me to stay. Now I’ll be around to show you the country. Won’t that be fun?”

With alarm bells going off in his head, Adam jerked backward, tripped over the root of a tree and stumbled, knocking the glass of red wine out of Deirdre’s hand and all down her cream suit.

CHAOS ENSUED as people immediately crowded around, making helpful comments while trying to wipe down the suit. Cressa saw Adam looking wretched as he apologized over and over. She was relieved when Jake carried him off, ostensibly to give a hand bringing out the cake. Adam’s mum, Alicia, whisked Deirdre off to the sleep-out to find her a change of clothes. Then came speeches, more champagne and the cutting of the cake.

Through it all, Adam never once glanced her way. Cressa couldn’t understand it. When they were dancing, she’d been so sure he was as attracted to her as she was to him. He couldn’t have missed the magnetism between them. Or had she really misread the signals so badly?

Over and over again in her mind she replayed the shock on his face when she’d told him she’d be staying. Saw again the panic in his eyes. What the hell? She had to find Sass, tell her staying here was off. But it wasn’t easy. The bride and groom were constantly surrounded by people.

Cressa wandered among the tables now showing the wreckage of carousing. Canapes had dried up; empty glasses littered surfaces. Used plates and napkins lay strewn across the tables and some had fallen onto the grass. The dregs of champagne sat flat in the bottles. The celebration was over and her sour feelings about weddings had only been reinforced. For a while she must have been carried away by a misdirected, false sense of romanticism. What a fool. She glanced over to Adam, now standing on the far edge of the lawn. He looked gorgeous and unobtainable. What a waste.

How had she read him so wrong?

Then, to crown her sense of dislocation, she watched as Sass mounted the deck of the sleep-out and lifted her bouquet. Laughing and jostling, all the women gathered below. Des, Portia and Katherine were right in front. Typical. Cressa wouldn’t be caught dead in that silly gaggle. Someone started a countdown. “Ten. Nine…”

She spotted Adam’s camera lying on the table where he’d left it when they went to dance. She turned it on and flicked through the photos he’d taken of her family. In the darkness of the night, they glowed in bright colors, surprisingly good. Despite her current mood, Cressa smiled. They would all want copies.

“Six. Five…”

She continued clicking on the photos and froze. This one was of her. He’d zoomed in for a close-up of her face. She’d been glancing sideways, laughing at her sisters. The wind had caught her hair, lifting it behind her.

“Two… One!”

And the bouquet, caught by a gust, sailed over all the guests to smack Cressa squarely in the back of her head.

CHAPTER THREE

THE NEXT DAY began chaotically. The Curtis family overslept, after having talked and laughed into the small hours of the morning. The rushed start meant hasty cups of tea and battles for the bathroom. Cressa’s sisters tripped over one another as they crammed clothes into bags before realizing they’d picked up the wrong bras, hair straighteners and phone chargers. This led to frantic repacking, which was followed by an uproarious brunch at the marina.

Cressa leaned back, cradling her coffee, letting the words wash around her. The sun was warm on her back and shone on the dark and tawny heads of her family. Their faces were animated, hands gesturing to emphasize words. With a teacher mother and an actor father, they’d all learned to make their points forcibly. She smiled, her world complete.

One sister, one brother, one mother.

He’d looked wistful, which was at odds with his bad-boy persona. So many contradictions. She was, she had to admit, intrigued. Images of Adam, memories of his arms around her, his lips in her hair, kept coming back to her and filling her with anticipation. Then she’d recall his look of horror.

“How is Brian?” Her mother’s question pulled her back to the present.

Far from playing the jilted groom, Brian had stayed frustratingly faithful and friendly.

“Oh, he’s fine. Working mad hours as always.” She was careful to sound blasé.

“I thought he must be,” said Deirdre. “We haven’t spoken to him for a few weeks now, have we, George?”

“Not since he dropped by with that particularly good bottle of wine.” Her dad smiled, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the wine or the pleasure of seeing Brian. Cressa might not have gone through with the wedding, but Brian had somehow remained a fixture in her family.

“I caught up with him last Friday,” Juliet interjected. “Mike brought him home for dinner. He’s looking great but tired. Did you know he’s presenting at the conference Mike’s gone to this weekend?” She eyed Cressa with a touch of accusation. “He mentioned he hasn’t seen much of you, Cressa.”

What could she say?

“Filming’s busy,” she replied.

But Des was already leaning forward, arms crossed on the table. “Why should she? They’re not an item anymore.”

“He still loves her, despite everything,” Katherine said. “Cressa’s mad not to see how lucky she is.”

“But if she doesn’t love him—” Des countered.

“What’s not to love?” Juliet said. “He’s the most eligible bachelor around.”

“It’s none of our business,” said Mum, as she always did just before going on to deliver her opinion. “However, Cressa, you do need someone steady—if not Brian, then someone like him. Not some wild tearaway, here today, gone tomorrow.”

Cressa glanced at her sharply, but Deirdre’s sunglasses rendered her face impassive.

Looking mischievous, George covered his wife’s hand with his. “Isn’t that what your parents said when an impecunious actor strolled into your life?”

They all laughed, then Portia ended the discussion. “We should all butt out. Cressa can lead her life any way she likes after what she’s been through.”

The uncomfortable silence was broken when their father stood. “I’ll get the bill. Then we should hit the road.”

Cressa felt squeezed to death by the time her whole family had hugged her before climbing into the van and taking off, hands waving out all the windows. She laughed, waving back with both arms till the vehicle rounded the corner, then she picked up her helmet and made her way to her motorbike. As she switched on the engine, she was aware of a tingle of excitement.

How well her mother knew her. A wild tearaway, here today and gone tomorrow, was exactly what she wanted. She just had to convince him it was what he wanted, too. First, however, she had a phone call to make, and then she was going to drop in on her cousin and his wife. Rob and Moana had gotten to know Sass extremely well, and Cressa wanted as much information about the Walkers as possible. As a Valkyrie, she’d learned never to go into battle without being fully armed.

THE SUN WAS SETTING when Adam opened the door in answer to her knock, mop in one hand, bucket in the other. Cressa suppressed a smile. With his dangerous looks, he should be toting a weapon, not a mop. His hair, as black and glossy as the feathers of an eagle, fell thick and straight down each side of his face. He was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt that made his olive skin appear more tanned than ever. Moana had said his father was Cherokee. Cressa liked that. It made him somehow even more exotic and exciting.

“Hey, good to see you,” he said, stepping back to let her enter. “Just finished getting the house in order.”

So that’s how he intended to play it. His manner was impeccably pitched at the “polite acquaintance” level. As if he had never run his hands up and down her back, causing her to shiver with anticipation. Okay, she could play along—for now.

“Hi.” She stepped inside the kitchen. The smell of roast chicken filled the air, and pots were boiling on the stove, though no one seemed to be attending to them. “You didn’t have to clean up for me, you know.”

He smiled, and his teeth were very white. American dentistry, no doubt. His slanted cheekbones gave his smile a wicked edge.

“I didn’t.” He sounded apologetic. “I did it because Mom ordered me to.”

Cressa laughed. The warrior still taming to his mother’s orders. She liked that, too.

“Was there a lot to do? You guys should have taken us up on our offer to help.”

Adam dismissed the idea with a wave of one lean hand. “It was no trouble. Rob and Moana came over in the morning, and with the boys here, too, we got most of it done in no time. Sass was commander in chief. Bossy but efficient. To be honest, when they all left at lunchtime, it was a relief.”

“Sounds like Juliet. Being the eldest, she thinks of herself more as mother than sister. So, where am I sleeping?”