The Inconvenient Bride - By Anne McAllister Page 0,50

day of school in kindergarten, when you knew hardly anybody, and no one wanted to know you.

But no one ever did, Sierra had discovered, if you didn’t try to know them. So that’s what she set out to do. Every person Dominic introduced her to was an interesting individual. And she made sure to show she understood that. Most of them responded politely and, if they were reserved at first, the majority, by the time she’d finished talking to them, responded with at least a little warmth.

A few, of course, did not.

She told herself she didn’t care. For herself she did not. But she hated that they thought less of Dominic because of her.

Not all of them did.

Tally Thomas, for instance. What a delightful surprise to see Tally there. The sprightly octogenarian had been one of Sierra’s first clients when she’d come to New York. Tally had been a regular at the little salon on Madison where Sierra had first found a job cutting hair, and one day when her regular stylist was ill, she’d made do with Sierra.

After that she’d insisted on Sierra always doing her hair.

She’d followed Sierra through three more salons until Sierra had told her she was going to go to Paris. Then Tally had given her a series of French lessons. “So you don’t let them get the best of you,” she’d said, with a twinkle in her eye.

Sierra had loved the lessons and she hadn’t forgotten Tally’s kindness. Though she hadn’t seen Tally much since she’d come back and was working on photo shoots now, she was delighted to see her first real client.

Tally was equally thrilled to see her. “Who’d have thought it!” she’d said, clasping Sierra’s hands in her own. “Never would’ve dreamed one of Douglas’s boys would have such good sense!”

“Dominic’s brilliant,” Sierra had assured her, watching her husband out of the corner of her eye. He had stiffened at the voices of two women behind them, and what they were saying made Sierra stiffen, too, though she did her best to pretend she hadn’t heard.

They didn’t matter, she assured herself.

Only people like Tally mattered. Kind people. Loving people.

And, of course, Dominic.

“My secretary, Shyla,” Dominic was introducing her to now.

And Sierra put the other women out of her mind and took Shyla’s hand. “I’m so glad to meet you. How does Deirdre like her Yankees’ cap?”

Shyla laughed. They talked, compared notes on Dominic, and, Sierra was delighted to see, made him blush.

Then Mariah appeared and said, “It’s time to go sit down and eat.”

“You okay?” Dominic asked her.

And Sierra nodded. Yes, she was.

She’d said she was fine.

Then she disappeared.

They ate dinner, cut the cake, fed each other bites of it, and she was smiling and happy, then told him she needed to wash her hands, headed for the ladies’ room—and disappeared.

“You’re supposed to be dancing. The bride and groom lead out the dancing,” Rhys said into his ear. Dominic was pacing the deck. He’d been over all of them looking for her when she hadn’t reappeared. He’d seen everyone, smiled and shook hands and met some curious gazes, and he could hardly say he’d mislaid his bride, so he’d kept looking by himself.

But she didn’t seem to be anywhere!

“You and Mariah dance,” Dominic said now, brushing Rhys off.

“We’re not the bride and groom.”

“Well, pretend you are,” Dominic said through his teeth. “Sierra’s not here!”

“What the hell do you mean, not here? This is a boat, for God’s sake! Where could she be?”

“How the hell should I know? She went to the head and she never came back.”

“Maybe she’s still there.”

“It’s been half an hour!”

“Did you look?”

“Of course not. I didn’t go busting in. It’s not a unisex bathroom.”

“Did you ask?”

Dominic grunted. “You don’t go around asking for your lost bride.”

“Well, no, I never have,” Rhys said cheerfully, “but I’ve never lost mine.”

“Since you married her,” Dominic said pointedly. He wasn’t going to allow Rhys very much smugness. His brother had screwed things up pretty badly with Mariah before he’d come to his senses and begun to live happily ever after.

“Since then,” Rhys agreed. “Want me to ask?”

Dominic didn’t want anything of the sort, but it was better to have Rhys ask than to do it himself. “If you want,” he said offhandedly. “But don’t tell them I sent you!”

Rhys crossed his heart. “And hope to die,” he said piously.

“Just do it.” Dominic gave him a push toward the stairs. He followed Rhys down at a discreet distance, ready to look the