Groom Under Fire. Lisa ChildsЧитать онлайн книгу.
he loved her, the woman was infuriating. “She’s obsessed with this damn wedding!”
“Weddings are her business,” Logan replied with pride.
For years their mother had put all her energy and love into her family—taking on the roles of both mother and father after her police-officer husband had been killed in the line of duty fifteen years ago. But when her youngest—and only girl—had gone off to college, she had found a new vocation—saving the church where she and Cooper’s father had been married from demolition and turning it into a wedding venue with her as planner.
“And security is our business,” Cooper said. His brother had promised him a job with Payne Protection the minute his enlistment ended. He had even brought him directly to the office from the airport, but that had been a couple of days ago and he had yet to give him a job. Until tonight...
“That’s why you need to get over to the church,” Logan told him.
“For security? At a wedding?” He snorted his derision.
“Tanya is the granddaughter of a billionaire,” Logan needlessly reminded him.
As if Cooper hadn’t been brutally aware of the differences between her lifestyle and his, her grandfather had pointed out that a fatherless kid like him with no prospects for the future had nothing to offer an heiress like Tanya. Benedict Bradford had wanted a doctor or lawyer for his eldest granddaughter—a man worthy of her. He hadn’t considered a soldier who might not make it through his deployments worthy of Tanya. Neither had Cooper. The old man had been dead for years now, but Benedict Bradford would have approved of Stephen, who had become a corporate attorney.
“Being a billionaire’s granddaughter never put her in danger before,” Cooper said. Or his mother definitely would have told him about it. And if that had been the case, he wouldn’t have waited until his enlistment ended before coming home.
Logan lifted up his cell phone and turned it toward Cooper. “This might say otherwise...”
Coop peered at a dark, indiscernible image on the small screen. “What the hell is that?”
“Black roses,” Logan replied with a shudder of revulsion. “They were delivered to the church today.”
“That doesn’t say danger,” Cooper insisted. “That says mix-up at the florist’s.”
Logan shook his head. “The wedding’s tomorrow, so the real flowers aren’t being delivered until morning.”
Cooper arched an eyebrow now, questioning how his brother was so knowledgeable of wedding policy and procedure.
“It’s Mom,” Logan said. “Of course we help her out from time to time. Like now. You need to get to the church.”
“You just said the wedding’s tomorrow.”
“So that means the rehearsal’s tonight,” Logan said with a snort of disgust at Cooper’s ignorance.
But he’d already been gone—first to boot camp and then a base in Okinawa—when their mother had bought the old church. He had no knowledge of weddings and absolutely no desire to learn about them.
“So if someone wants to stop the wedding from happening,” Logan continued, “they’ll make their move tonight.”
Someone wanted to stop the wedding. But Cooper had no intention of making a move. Nothing had changed since high school. There had been nothing between Tanya and him then but friendship. And there was less than nothing between them now. He hadn’t talked to her in years.
But if she was in danger...
* * *
HER HAND SHOOK as Tanya lifted the zippered garment bag containing her wedding gown toward the hook hanging on the wall of the bride’s dressing room. It wasn’t the weight of the yards of satin and lace that strained her muscles but the weight of the guilt bearing down on her shoulders. I can’t do this! It’s not right...
But neither was her grandfather’s manipulation. Even a decade after his death, the old man hadn’t given up trying to control his family. A couple of decades ago, he had bought off Tanya’s father, so that he had left her mother and her and her sister, forcing them to move in with her grandfather.
That place had been the exact opposite of the bright room in which Tanya stood now. The bride’s dressing room was all white wainscoting and soft pink paint. That house had been cold and dark. She shuddered at just the thought of the mausoleum. But then she smiled as she remembered who had called the drafty mansion that first. Cooper Payne.
He had kissed her there—after he’d pushed her up against one of the pillars of the front porch. That kiss had happened more than a dozen years ago, but her heart beat erratically at the memory. It had never pounded that hard over any other kiss. Her very first kiss...
Maybe that was why it had meant so much. Maybe that was why, even though it had been years since she’d seen him, she thought so often of Cooper Payne. It was probably good that he’d turned down Stephen’s request to be his best man. Good that he wasn’t going to be standing there when she followed through with this charade.
She wouldn’t be able to utter her vows—to lie—with him looking at her. Not that he’d ever been able to tell when she was lying...
He had believed her when she’d agreed with him that the kiss—and the few that had followed it—had been a mistake, that they were only meant to be friends. She had nodded and smiled even while her teenage heart had been breaking.
Maybe it was the memory of that pain that had kept her from ever falling in love again. But then there had also been those threats. Stephen was convinced they were empty. But what if they weren’t?
Should she risk it, as Stephen had advised? Or should she forfeit her inheritance?
She glanced into the antique mirror that stood next to where the garment bag hung, but she quickly turned away from the image of blond hair and haunted green eyes. She couldn’t even look at herself right now. If she followed through with this farce, she would never be able to look at herself again.
She breathed a ragged sigh. She wouldn’t miss the money; it had never been hers anyway. But she’d had plans for it—good plans, charitable plans...
Her grandfather had never practiced any charity—not even at home. Benedict Bradford had really been a mean old miser. So giving away his money would have been the perfect revenge for how he’d treated her mother and her and her sister.
But a wedding shouldn’t be about revenge. Or money. Or even charity. It should be about love. And while Tanya loved her groom, she wasn’t in love with him.
“I—I can’t do this...”
Not the wedding. Not even the damn rehearsal. She crossed the room and jerked open the door to the vestibule and nearly ran into Cooper Payne’s mother. Petite and slender with coppery-red hair and warm brown eyes, Mrs. Payne was exactly the opposite of her tall, dark, muscular sons. Only the youngest—her daughter—looked like her.
“What’s the matter, honey?” the older woman asked as she gripped Tanya’s trembling arms. “Are you all right?”
Tanya shook her head. “No, nothing’s right...”
“I know the rest of the wedding party hasn’t shown up yet, but there’s no rush,” Mrs. Payne assured her, her voice as full of warmth and comfort as her eyes. “Reverend James and I—”
She didn’t care about the rest of the wedding party. “Stephen—is Stephen here?”
Mrs. Payne nodded. “I showed him to the groom’s quarters a while ago, so that he could stow his tux there for tomorrow, like you’ve stowed your dress. Then you’ll have less to worry about for the ceremony.”
There was not going to be a ceremony. But Tanya couldn’t tell anyone that until she’d told Stephen. He’d concocted this