Rock Wedding (Rock Kiss #4) - Nalini Singh Page 0,25
appeared confident and wealthy, with no hint that you’d ever once worried about looking trashy.
On her head, she’d wear a fascinator that matched the dress except for some subtle accents in a vibrant citrine.
Sarah touched her fingers to the pretty confection of it before closing the hatbox in which it sat.
She adored it as much now as she had in the shop where Molly had taken her girlfriends so they could all get hats or other headgear for the wedding. Sarah would’ve never picked something like this on her own, would’ve thought it made her look foolish. It didn’t. As Kit had said, it made her look like one of those upper-class English people who went to “posh” country weddings.
Grinning, she checked a box that held a pair of simple black spike heels and an equally unadorned clutch. The heels, they were a gift from Abe. Not the shoes themselves but Sarah’s comfort in wearing them. Before Abe, she’d always worried about her height, aware she topped most men. Put her in heels and she topped the vast majority of men.
But with Abe…
“You’re perfect sized.” A sudden grin, his hand cupping her face. “I get to kiss you as much as I like without getting a crick in my neck.” He claimed her lips in a molten kiss to underscore his comment. “And in bed, we line up exactly right.”
Toes curling at the memory, Sarah realized her cheeks were flushed to the burning point. It didn’t help when she had to walk into the kitchen to retrieve her keys; her eyes went immediately to that counter, the one on which Abe had taken her so hard and deep, where he’d made her come until her thighs quivered.
“Breathe, Sarah,” she ordered herself even as her fingers trembled on the keys. She couldn’t go back down that road. She’d admitted long ago that Abe had the ability to hurt her more than any other man on the planet.
That was what she had to remember, not how good he made her feel when he put his hands on her.
Because he’d be there tomorrow afternoon at Molly and Fox’s “backyard wedding,” as Molly was calling it. She and Fox were determined to slide under the paparazzi’s noses and have a celebration unmarred by flyovers as the media fought to take photographs. As part of that, the guest list was strictly limited and everyone knew not to say a word to anyone who might purposefully—or accidentally—spill the beans.
All staff hired for the event had the same reputation as that which was the foundation of Sarah’s business: flawless discretion about clients.
Getting into her car after loading everything she’d need tonight and tomorrow, Sarah turned the vehicle’s air-conditioning to high, then drove out. Despite how friendly Molly had been, Sarah might have felt awkward about tonight, as if she were barging in, except that Molly had made it a special point to ask Sarah to come.
“We can hang out and talk,” Molly had said with that huge smile of hers that made it impossible not to smile in return. “And as a bonus, we’ll all be here for the morning pampering and makeup session.”
“Are you sure?” Sarah had asked, undone by Molly’s generosity. “I don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re my friend, Sarah.” The other woman had squeezed her hands, her brown eyes luminous. “We might just be starting out in that friendship, but I know it’s one that’ll last.”
Keeping Molly’s words in mind, Sarah drove through the gate after someone opened it for her without her having to push the buzzer, bringing her happy little red car to a halt in front of the house. Three other vehicles were already there: a black sports car, a midnight-blue BMW, and a large, dark gray SUV with rental plates. She’d just opened the back passenger-side door to start gathering up her things when the front door of the house was thrown open.
Molly ran out, dressed in a fabulous halter-neck swimsuit in black, a white sarong tied at her waist. “Sarah!” Her eyes sparkled, every inch of her bubbling with joy. “You’re here!”
Laughing, Sarah met Molly’s hug halfway. “So,” she said, “you’re just slightly happy to be getting married?”
“Hah!” The other woman pushed playfully at Sarah’s shoulders. “I can’t wait to be Molly Webster-Fox!” She looked about an inch away from floating off the ground. “I’ve decided I’m going to be that newlywed—you know, the one who gets monogrammed towels and shows off her wedding photos at every opportunity.”