The Inconvenient Bride - By Anne McAllister Page 0,51

other way while Rhys knocked on the ladies’ room door.

But before Rhys could do it, the door opened and three women came out, laughing and talking together like old friends.

Sylvia Ponsonby-Merrill, Marjorie, and Sierra.

Discreet distance and deliberate indifference forgotten, Dominic gaped at them while Rhys stepped back and let them pass.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Marjorie, face flushed, was saying to Sierra.

“Not a problem.” Sierra replied cheerfully. “The same thing happened to me at my friend Katie’s wedding. Only worse. My switch fell in the soup!”

Both the other women’s eyes bugged, then all three burst out laughing, and Sylvia patted her hand and said, “I’ll give some thought to that rinse you recommended. I’ve never thought of myself as a blonde.” She looked absolutely delighted. “It’s intriguing.” She gave Dominic a cheerful smile and, as she slipped past him, said, “Lovely girl, your Sierra, Dominic. Trust you to find her.”

His eyes met Marjorie’s for just a moment as she followed Sylvia. “I like her, Dominic,” she said.

So did he.

But he was a little dazed and confused about how she had managed to convert the enemy.

“Marjorie’s switch came loose in the breeze when she went up on deck with your father,” Sierra told him simply. “She was in despair when I went to wash my hands. She couldn’t get it up and fixed again. Neither could Sylvia.” She shrugged. “So I did.”

“You helped—but they were the ones who—” Dominic stopped as Sierra took his hand in hers.

She smiled at him, both her hands warm as they wrapped around his and she looked into his eyes. “They’re guests. And it’s true what I told Sylvia.” Her eyes simply sparkled. “She would look good as a blonde.”

It was a beautiful night.

Magical.

The skyline of Manhattan twinkled in the distance as the sun went down and the moon rose. People laughed and ate and drank and chatted. Children played and whooped and clapped. The band played lilting romantic melodies.

And for the first time in weeks Sierra was back in Dominic’s arms.

It was required, of course. They had a duty dance down by the band, and he held her close and she could rub her cheek against the starched white of his shirt or the soft black of his tuxedo jacket. She did just that, couldn’t help herself. But, all too quickly, the piece ended and her father was claiming her, and then Douglas and Rhys and Nathan and Finn and Gib and seemingly an endless stream of men.

Lovely men. Charming men. Dashing men.

She hugged her father, thanked Douglas profusely, assured Rhys that everything was fine, enjoyed a few moments with Nathan who, wearing a borrowed suit of Dominic’s, looked remarkably like him.

But Nathan wasn’t him.

And she wanted him. Desperately.

What Dominic wanted she had no idea. He was dancing with an equal number of women. She kept her eyes open, watching for him, aware every moment where he was—even when he was on the far side of the dance floor. She saw him with her mother, with Mariah and Izzy and Chloe and Pammie. She even saw him dance once with Sylvia Ponsonby-Merrill.

She wanted him to dance again with her.

It reminded her of Rhys’s and Mariah’s wedding when she’d danced all night determinedly with other men, but had only had eyes for him.

The difference was, she hadn’t danced with him first—or at all—that night, until the very end.

Then somehow they just happened to be standing near each other at the beginning of the last dance of the evening. And their gazes, which had been connecting and avoiding all night, met once more.

And this time neither had looked away.

“Dare you,” Dominic had said gruffly, a muscle jumping in his jaw. He held out a hand.

And Sierra took it and felt the electricity jolt through her.

“You’re on,” she’d replied and stepped recklessly into his arms.

From that moment she was lost. She’d probably been lost from the first time she saw him, but she hadn’t realized it then.

She was still lost in love with Dominic and she didn’t know how, after tonight, she would be able to resist.

She stood now beside the staircase leading to the upper decks and watched the other couples dancing. She tried to find Dominic, but for once her radar failed her.

And then, quite suddenly, he was there.

Right next to her, his shoulder brushing hers, his fingers sliding in to lace with hers.

“Dare you.” The gruff whisper sent a shiver right to the center of her.

She whipped her head around to see him