The Prince's Holiday Baby. Brenda HarlenЧитать онлайн книгу.
that when she got to Fiona’s, she wouldn’t have a minute to do so.
Her cousin had established a reputation as one of the premier event planners in Texas and her services were sought by everyone who was anyone in the state. She’d planned the island nuptials of a Cowboys’ quarterback, personally oversaw every detail of the small garden wedding for an Oscar-winning actress and coordinated the renewal of vows to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the governor and his wife.
But it turned out that her most challenging assignment and most demanding client wasn’t a celebrity or politician, it was herself. And her mistake, in Molly’s opinion, was in not hiring someone else to oversee the details of her own wedding—a wedding at which Molly would be the maid of honor the following month.
It seemed like a lifetime ago that Molly had been shopping for dresses and bouquets of flowers, dreaming of “happily ever after.” She’d been so full of hope for her future, eager to marry the man she loved, looking forward to raising a family together.
Though that engagement had fallen apart, she’d still believed that someday she would find someone special to share her life and build a family with. Now she’d skipped over the marriage part and was going straight to motherhood—definitely not her childhood dream but a reality that she would have to deal with it.
First, however, she had to tackle the issue of a bridesmaid dress.
Fiona was hovering just inside the door, waiting for her, when she finally arrived.
“Goodness,” she said, noting her cousin’s flushed cheeks. “You look like you just finished running a marathon.”
“Even a short walk feels like a marathon in this heat,” she said, not wanting to admit how far she’d walked or where she’d come from.
Fiona scooped a bottle of water out of the minifridge in her office and handed it to her.
“Thanks.” Molly took the bottle and sank into an empty chair. “Have you finally picked a dress for me?”
“Sort of.”
Molly arched a brow as she uncapped the water.
Fiona gestured to a garment rack that was crowded with gowns.
Molly stared. “There must be a dozen dresses there.”
“Sixteen,” her cousin admitted.
“I realize the layered look is in, but sixteen might be a bit excessive.”
“I couldn’t decide,” Fiona said, a trifle defensively.
“Couldn’t you at least have narrowed it down?”
“That is narrowed down.”
Molly shouldn’t have been surprised. Even with all of Fiona’s contacts in the industry, it had taken her cousin three weeks and trips to both New York City and San Francisco to finally decide on her own gown—from a local boutique.
“I know that pastels are all the rage for summer weddings,” Fiona was explaining now, “but I think jewel tones work better with your coloring and, since you’re my only attendant, you can pick whatever you want.”
Whatever she wanted so long as it was sapphire, emerald or ruby, Molly noted, and rose from her chair for a closer examination of the gowns.
But as she sorted through the collection, her mind slipped back to another examination, to her conversation with Dr. Morgan and the one word that continued to reverberate inside her head.
Pregnant.
“Any thoughts?” Fiona asked.
I thought I would regret it more if I didn’t spend the night with him.
Of course, that thought was immediately followed by a wave of guilt. As much as she hadn’t planned to get pregnant at this point in her life, she wouldn’t regret the child that she would have. The baby growing inside of her probably wasn’t the size of a pea yet, but Molly loved her already.
“Molly?” The prompt drew her attention back to the rack of dresses.
“They all look great,” she said, forcing enthusiasm into her voice.
“That’s what I thought, too,” Fiona told her.
Molly went with her instincts and grabbed a strapless floor-length gown of deep blue silk and slipped through the door. She stripped away her clothes, careful not to look at her refection in any of the mirrors that surrounded her. She didn’t want to look at her body, to think about the changes that were happening inside of her—changes that she knew were invisible to the outside world but essential to the tiny life inside her.
She tugged the zipper up, straightened the skirt and stepped back outside to show her friend.
“Oh. Wow.” Fiona grinned. “That’s it—it’s perfect.”
Molly exhaled a silent sigh of relief that she would be spared having to model the other fifteen dresses.
“You are going to knock his socks off in that dress,” her cousin said.
“Whose socks am I knocking off?” she asked warily.
“The best man’s.”
Molly wasn’t so sure that she wanted to be near any man even taking his socks off, because the last time that happened she’d ended up pregnant. Well, at least she’d had the chance to experience the most amazing sex of her life first. Yeah, it was good to know that she’d discovered a sex drive just in time to put it on the back burner for the next several years while she raised the illegitimate child of a man whose last name she didn’t even know.
“I can’t wait for you to meet him,” Fiona said, for the millionth time since she’d first met her fiancé’s childhood best friend. “If I wasn’t so in love with Scott…” She deliberately let her words trail off, then grinned. “But I am in love with Scott, so it would be really great if you managed to hook up with him.”
“I’m not looking to hook up with anyone,” Molly said firmly.
Fiona forged ahead, as if she hadn’t even heard her. “I really wished you’d met him when he was here, then you’d know what I’m talking about.”
“I’ll meet him at the rehearsal,” Molly reminded her.
“Are you bringing anyone to the wedding?”
“You know I’m not.”
“Because he’s not bringing a date, either.”
“Fiona,” she warned her cousin.
“I’m just saying.”
“I know what you’re saying. And I know you just want me to find someone as wonderful as Scott, but I’m really not looking to get involved with anyone right now.” And probably not for a long time. “There’s just too much going on in my life right now to even think about adding the complication of a relationship.”
Fiona’s eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”
And that, Molly knew, was the problem of having a cousin who was also her best friend and who knew her better than anyone else in the world. But she shook her head, not ready to share the news with anyone just yet.
“Your wedding is less than a month away,” she reminded Fiona. “You should have enough to think about without worrying about my love life.”
Her statement succeeded in deflecting her cousin’s attention, as she knew it would, and they talked about flowers and music and other details until Fiona’s next appointment arrived and Molly was able to escape.
He couldn’t get her out of his mind.
Almost two months after he’d returned to Tesoro del Mar, Eric still couldn’t stop thinking about Molly Shea. At first, he’d been certain it was just the memories of spectacular