Wedding Wishes: A Wedding at Leopard Tree Lodge

No. It was the fact that he’d taken the decision without consulting her, choosing to let her sleep on rather than disturbing her, that had made her so mad.

‘It should have been my decision.’

And she was right. He should have waited until she’d woken up but he was so used to taking decisions, leaving everyone else in his wake, that he’d forgotten that this was her show, not his.

He hauled himself to his feet. Steadied himself. The back was in a co-operative mood despite the row, or maybe because of it. If it was psychological, stress-related, it wasn’t this kind of adrenalin rush that triggered it. But he’d known all along what the problem was.

It had begun on the day he’d decided to offload Leopard Tree Lodge, rid himself of the one resort in his portfolio that he couldn’t bear to visit. Couldn’t stop thinking about.

He moved carefully across the deck to the tree house; the pain had definitely eased, but he wasn’t about to take any chances. Once inside, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the different light level, but then he opened the wardrobe door and saw exactly what Josie had seen.

A stunning piece of feminine kit made from purple chiffon hanging next to his suit. A pair of high heeled shoes that appeared to consist solely of straps beside his loafers. His grip, her suitcase.

Alesia had only done what he’d asked her, but the result did not give the impression of two strangers sharing a room out of convenience—her stuff at one end, his at the other. It had the intimacy of the wardrobe of two people sharing a room, sharing a bed because they were together, an item. Because they wanted to.

He could have asked Francis to pack for him, but it was time to go, get out of here. If he called an air taxi now he’d be in time to get away tonight and, without waiting, he bent to pick up his grip.

The chef had been able to spare her an hour to go through the menu for the pre-wedding dinner.

After she’d gone through the menu, including special dietary needs, she’d checked the linen, then she and the head waiter had laid out a table so that they both knew what they’d be doing on the day of the wedding.

She had thought that the colours might be a bit overpowering, but strong light needed rich colours and the orange cloths and pale blue draw sheets looked stunning against the evening sun. The table flowers would be marigolds and forget-me-nots. To her intense relief, there were no balloons; the chance of small pieces of latex being ingested by animals was too great to risk.

It was almost dark by the time she headed back through the trees, but there were solar lamps along the bridge, on the steps and decks, threaded through the trees. It gave everything an ethereal fairyland quality.

‘Are you okay on your own?’ she asked Cryssie when she stopped to pick up the wedding dress. Now it was dark she could understand why she might not want to be alone out at the far end of the lodge. Might have felt a little nervous herself…

‘Absolutely. It’s been mad for the last few weeks. It’s great to get a bit of peace, to be honest. I’m looking forward to an early night.’

‘Well, you know where I am if you need anything. I’ll see you later.’

That done, she straightened her shoulders and headed back to face Gideon. Eat a little humble pie.

The deck was bathed in cool, low level light, but there was no sign of Gideon and no candles had been lit inside.

He couldn’t have surrendered, surely? Taken her at her word. He could barely move…

‘Gideon?’ she called, assailed by a sudden rush of alarm.

‘I’m on the floor. Please try not to fall on top of me.’

‘Where are you? What happened?’

‘I’m in front of the wardrobe.’

She felt her way cautiously in the direction of his voice and collided with the edge of the open wardrobe door.

‘Ouch!’

‘Sorry. I should have warned you about that.’

‘I’m okay.’ Apart from the crack on her forehead and the odd whirling star.

She felt for the top of the door, carefully hung the dress over it, then got down on her knees and felt around until she’d found his leg. Warm, strong…

‘Careful where you’re putting your hand,’ he warned as she edged forward and she jerked it away.

‘What happened?’ she repeated. ‘Did you fall? Have you hurt your head?’

‘No and no. I bent to pick up my bag so that I could pack and my back seized again.’

‘You are such an idiot.’

‘I’ve been lying here for hours just waiting for you to tell me that. Where the hell have you been?’

‘Doing my job. Talking to the chef, discussing arrangements with David, counting tablecloths.’

Putting off the moment when she’d have to face him, apologise.

‘Vital work, obviously,’ he replied.

‘It’s what Celebrity is paying me for. Nursemaiding you isn’t part of the deal,’ she snapped. Then, not sure whether she was more furious with herself or with him, ‘Damn it, Gideon, I came back ready to apologise, play nice and you’ve set me off again.’

‘Play nice?’ he repeated, with a soft rising inflection that suggested all manner of pleasurable games. ‘Well, that’s more like it.’

In the darkness, with no visual stimulus, his low, gravelly voice was enough to send a sensuous curl of heat winding through that hidden central core that she kept locked away. Just as his eyes had lit up her body when she’d come face to face with him that morning. As his touch had seduced her into a reckless kiss.

Every part of him seemed to touch her with an intimacy that effortlessly undermined her defences.

Control…Control…

‘Are you in pain?’ she asked, summoning up her best ‘nanny’ voice, the one she kept for panicking brides, weeping mothers-of-the-groom and pageboys intent on mayhem. Determinedly ignoring the seductive power of his voice. Blocking out feelings that she couldn’t handle.

‘It’s getting better. Isn’t lying on a hard surface supposed to be therapeutic? Maybe bringing me down was my back’s way of telling me what it needs.’

‘Smart back. Maybe you should sleep down here,’ she suggested.

‘Is that your best offer?’

‘Oh, shut up. I’ll light the candles,’ she said, shuffling back the way she’d come so that she could move around him. She misjudged his length, caught his foot with her knee.

‘Ouch!’

‘Sorry…’

She backed off carefully, crawled towards the bed, banged her head against the wooden frame. ‘Ouch!’

Gideon began to laugh.

‘It’s not funny!’

‘No. Sorry…’

That was enough to set her off and, as he peppered his laughter with short scatological expletives each time he jarred his back, she broke down and, helpless with laughter, collapsed beside him, provoking another, ‘Ouch!’

For a moment the two of them lay, side by side in the dark, trying to recover. It took an age for her to smother the outbreaks of giggles, but every time she said ‘Sorry’ it set them both off again. Then his hand found hers in the dark and all desire to laugh left her.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Some brides want to include a much-loved dog, pony or other animal as part of their big day. This can be a challenge…

—The Perfect Wedding by Serafina

March

‘THAT’S better. Are you okay?’ Gideon asked as she hiccupped and gasped as she tried to get her breath back.

‘I th-think s-so.’ No question. Infinitely better. She’d had no idea that a man holding your hand could make you feel so safe. ‘You?’

‘A lot better than I was ten minutes ago.’ She felt, rather than saw, him move his head and she knew that he was looking at her. ‘They do say laughter is the best medicine.’

‘That would be why you were swearing so much.’

‘Sorry…’

‘Don’t!’ she warned and Gideon’s hand tightened as, for a moment, neither of them dared to breathe. When, finally, Josie was certain that she was safe from another fit of the giggles, she said, ‘I’d better light the candles.’

‘No hurry. This is good.’

Before she could react, the bell rang at the foot of the steps, and then a dark figure appeared in the open doorway.

‘Rra?’

‘We’re here, Francis. Give us some light, will you?’

‘Are you hurt, Rra?’ he asked as he lit the candles and the room filled with soft light. ‘Oh, madam, you are here too. Can I help you?’

‘Just see to the nets, Francis,’ Gideon said. ‘We’re fine where we are.’

Nets?

Josie watched Francis unfasten them from the bedposts and spread them out so that they turned the bed into a gauzy cloister. Her turn to let slip an expletive. She’d thought they looked romantic, but they were mosquito nets.

‘Is there anything I can bring you? Rra, madam?’

‘A large single malt whisky for Miss Fowler and a bottle of mineral water for me, Francis. And I’m sure Miss Fowler would welcome something to nibble on. It’s a long time since she had lunch.’

‘Yes, Rra.’

‘A long time since lunch?’ she challenged, the minute he’d gone. ‘I didn’t have any lunch. And the monkey ate my breakfast. It’s no wonder I nearly passed out on you.’

‘Don’t worry, I’ll share.’

‘I won’t. I hope you enjoy your mineral water.’ Then, ‘Why didn’t you let Francis help you up?’

‘No rush. It’s therapeutic, remember? Just lie there quietly until he comes back.’

‘I haven’t got a bad back,’ she reminded him. Not because she didn’t want to stay where she was, her hand feeling small and feminine tucked in his. But it wasn’t wise, not when just being close to him was jump-starting emotions that she’d successfully held in stasis for so long that she’d become complacent, assuming herself to be immune.

‘Maybe not, but you don’t want to risk another dizzy spell. It being so long since you’ve eaten.’

‘You are soooo thoughtful.’

‘That’s me. A man you can count on in a crisis.’

‘A man you can count on to cause a crisis,’ she retaliated. Then, before they started in on one another again, she said, ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. I have something to say so will you just lie there and be quiet for a moment so that I can get it off my chest?’

‘An apology? They’re worse than a trip to the dentist,’ he said sympathetically.

She was forced to bite her lip, take a breath. He really, really didn’t deserve one, but she would apologise if it killed her. ‘The thing is, Gideon…What I have to say is…’

‘I’m not sure that there’s time for this before Francis comes back.’

‘You’re not making this easy.’

‘Sorry…’

It was a deliberate attempt to set her off again, she knew, but she held her breath, stared straight up at the ceiling, refusing to be distracted.

‘What I want to say is that I might…just…be a little bit of a control freak—’

‘What a coincidence. I’d have said that too,’ he broke in, so that she lost the momentum of the apology she’d been rehearsing as she’d counted tablecloths.

Just from his voice, she knew that he was smiling, undoubtedly with smug self-satisfaction. That was his problem, not hers, however, and, before he could say something that would make her forget every one of her good intentions, she pressed on.

‘As I was saying, I have a very real problem with people taking over my life, leaving me without a choice…’

This was where he was supposed to interrupt, say that he understood, that he had been heavy-handed and was sorry. Instead, there was a long pause, then Gideon said, ‘Is that it?’

‘…and, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I apologise for my overreaction to your high-handed actions,’ she spat out through gritted teeth. Then, when he still didn’t leap in to agree that he had been high-handed in the extreme, she added, ‘Although, to be honest, I believe I would have been perfectly justified in dumping you over the railing and leaving you to the mercy of the crocodiles.’ She allowed herself a smile. ‘Okay, that’s it. I’m done.’

‘Well, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think I was the one who should be feeling guilty.’

She didn’t say a word.

‘I see. Right, well, here’s my version of the take it or leave it non-apology. In my company I make the decisions and I expect everyone to do what I tell them—’

‘You must be such fun to work for.’

‘I’m a generous and caring employer—’

‘And maybe just a little bit of a control freak?’

‘On the contrary. I welcome the involvement of my staff, I leave them to run their own departments—which is why I didn’t know about the wedding—and people stay with me because I’m successful.’

‘Yes?’ she prompted, since he seemed to have forgotten the apology bit.

‘But in the future I’ll do my best to remember that you don’t work for me.’

‘In other words, you’ll have a full and frank discussion with me before you start rearranging my life? Even if it means waking me up.’

‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that.’

‘No? I can see why you’re so at home here, Gideon.’

‘Go on,’ he said, ‘give me all you’ve got.’

She shrugged. ‘It’s obvious. A leopard can never change his spots.’

She’d expected him to come back with a smart answer, but he didn’t say anything.

‘Gideon?’ she prompted after what seemed like an age.

‘Yes,’ he said, obviously coming back from somewhere deep inside his head. ‘I have no doubt that you’ve hit the nail firmly on the head.’

What? She turned to look at him. He too was staring up at the ceiling but, sensing her move, he turned to look at her. Smiled. Not the slow killer smile that melted her inside. It was superficial, lying on the surface, a mask…

‘Now we’ve got all that out of the way, are we going to be room mates?’ he asked. ‘Or, since it’s too late to fly out of here tonight, am I to be banished to the office floor?’

She sighed dramatically. ‘I thought my apology covered that, but here’s how it is. One,’ she said—she would have ticked it off on her finger, but he still had her hand firmly in his—‘since I’ve been informed by Cryssie that you accepted her invitation to the wedding, it’s clear that you have no intention of going anywhere until after the weekend.’

‘We were both just being polite,’ he assured her.

‘Cryssie is a sincere and charming woman. She certainly meant it, even if you didn’t so you’d better start thinking about a wedding present.’

‘Done. And two?’ he said.

‘What?’

‘You said one. I’m assuming there was a two, possibly a three.’

‘Oh, yes. I just couldn’t get past how quickly you could sort out a wedding present.’

‘I’m making a donation to their new charity.’

‘She told you about that? You two did have a nice chat.’

‘Such a sincere and charming woman,’ he agreed. ‘And there’s no such thing as free PR. Two?’

‘Two,’ she said, playing for time while she recalled her train of thought. Oh, yes…‘Since Health and Safety rules cover everyone—even the boss—it seems that, like it or not, we’re stuck with one another. Control freaks united.’

‘And three?’ he enquired hopefully.

‘There’s no three.’

‘Pity. I liked the way that was going.’

‘Okay, here’s three,’ she said, finally breaking the connection, letting go of his hand and sitting up. ‘You’ve got a reprieve from the office floor, but I haven’t yet decided whether or not you’re going to sleep on this one.’ Then, as he pushed himself up so that he was leaning against the timber wall, ‘Well,’ she said, ‘didn’t you make a fast recovery once you got your own way.’

‘I didn’t say I couldn’t move. I just didn’t want to take a chance on it going again and knocking myself out on the wardrobe door.’

‘Just left it for me to walk into,’ she said, getting up and crossing to the wardrobe, picking out a change of clothes. ‘So you really will be leaving in the morning? I’ll be happy to pack for you,’ she offered quickly, afraid her voice might have betrayed the little flicker of disappointment that had shimmered through her at the thought of him leaving. ‘Just in case your back decides it would rather stay here.’

‘What about the wedding?’

She glanced back at him. He had that delicious rumpled look that only men could pull off without having to spend hours in front of a mirror getting it just right. Too tempting.

‘If the donation was big enough, I’m sure Cryssie would forgive you. Didn’t you say something about having to be in Patagonia?’

‘Did I?’ He shook his head. ‘My deputy has gone in my place.’

‘But you’re a control freak. Won’t leaving something that important to a deputy cause you serious stress?’

Gideon hadn’t given Patagonia a thought since Josie Fowler had waltzed onto his deck wearing nothing but a bathrobe that morning. He’d been having far too much fun teasing her, enjoying the fact that she gave as good as she got, but as she closed the wardrobe door he saw the white full length dress cover hanging over the wardrobe door.

‘What the hell is that?’ he demanded, all desire to tease draining away at the shock of seeing it here, in his room.

‘It’s Cryssie’s dress.’

‘Obviously. What’s it doing here?’

‘We’ve got a photo shoot in the bridal suite tomorrow,’ she reminded him. ‘Exquisite gossamer-draped bed, candles, rose petals, fabulous PR for Leopard Tree Lodge and—’

‘I don’t want it in here,’ he said, on his feet before he had even thought about it.

‘Gideon!’ She put out a hand as if to support him.

‘I’m fine!’ he said, brushing her away.

She didn’t back off, but stayed where she was for a long moment. Only when she was sure that he wasn’t going to collapse did she finally let her hand drop, take a step back.

‘It’s not only the photo shoot,’ she said, shaken by his reaction, anxious to make him understand. ‘Tal will be arriving tomorrow afternoon.’

‘So?’

‘Well, it’s obvious. He can’t see it before the big day. It would be unlucky.’ Unlucky…

The word shivered through him and he put his hand flat on the wall, not because of his back but because his legs, having taken him up like a rocket, were now regretting it.

‘It’s not staying in here,’ he said stubbornly.

‘This is my room, Gideon,’ she returned with equal determination. ‘Your decision, remember? And that dress is my responsibility. It’s not leaving here until I take it to Cryssie on her wedding day, along with a needle and thread to put the last stitch in the hem, just as I do for all my brides.’

‘Tradition, superstition, it’s a load of damned nonsense,’ he said furiously. ‘What about the tradition that he doesn’t see her before the wedding? They’re sleeping together, for heaven’s sake.’

‘That’s on the day of the wedding, Gideon. And he won’t. Her chief bridesmaid will spend the night before the wedding with Cryssie and Tal is going to bunk down with his best man…’ Her voice trailed off and she groaned as she realised that plan had flown out of the window when the number one bridesmaid had switched partners.

‘Problem?’ he asked.

‘Just another challenge for Mr Fix-it,’ she replied sharply. Then, her face softening in concern, ‘Maybe you should sit down before you try, though. You look a bit shaky.’

‘I’m okay,’ he said and, pushing himself off, he made it unaided as far as the sofa before the bell rang again. He remained on his feet, helping himself to the whisky from the tray Francis was carrying, downing it in one.

‘Rra!’

‘Sorry,’ he said, replacing it on the tray. ‘Wrong glass. You’d better bring another one.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ Josie said quickly.

‘Bring one,’ he repeated angrily. He wasn’t used to having his orders countermanded. ‘What’s special on the menu tonight? Something tasty for Miss Fowler, I hope?’ he continued, not because he was hungry, but because he wanted to annoy her. Wanted her gone…

‘Chef is recommending a tagine of lamb, Rra.’

‘What do you say, Josie?’ he said, turning to look at her. ‘Do you fancy that?’

‘Don’t worry about me, Francis,’ she said, ignoring him. ‘I’ll get a drink in the bar if I want one. And I’ll be eating in the dining room, too. Just bring Mr McGrath whatever Chef’s prepared for him.’

‘You can tell Chef that—’

‘Gideon!’

He lowered himself carefully onto the sofa and said, ‘You can tell Chef that I am sorry he’s been put to such inconvenience, Francis.’

‘He is happy to do it for you, Mr Gideon. We all want you to be better. My wife is hoping that she can welcome you to our home very soon. She wishes to thank you for the books.’

‘I won’t go without visiting her,’ he promised.

‘You bring his wife books?’ Josie asked when Francis had gone.

‘For their children.’ Then, before she could make something of that, ‘So, you’re abandoning me for the delights of the dining room?’

‘You don’t want my company, you just want my lamb,’ she replied. ‘I’m sure whatever the chef makes for you will be delicious.’

‘Low-fat girl food,’ he retaliated. ‘The chilli didn’t do me any harm. Quite the reverse. I was on the mend until you decided to kick me out.’

Until she’d turned up with a wedding dress.

‘I’m not keeping you here,’ she reminded him. ‘And, since you seem to be mobile, there’s no reason for you to stay.’

‘Who’s your date?’ he asked, ignoring her blatant invitation to remove himself.

‘Now you’re on your feet you can come to the dining room and find out,’ she said sharply, taking her tone from him. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, since I’ve been working, I’m going to take a shower.’

‘Don’t forget the matches. You’ll need to light the candles,’ he said as she opened the door. ‘Although, personally, I prefer to shower under starlight.’

‘Have you ever tried to put on make-up by starlight?’ She shook her head. ‘Don’t answer that.’

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked as she hesitated in the doorway.

‘Something…scuttled.’

‘What sort of something?’

‘How the heck would I know? It’s dark.’

‘You’re not scared of spiders, are you?’

‘I can handle the average bathroom spider,’ she said, ‘but this is Africa, where the spiders come larger, hairier. And they have teeth.’

‘Fangs.’

‘Fangs. Great. That makes me feel so much better.’

‘The thing to remember, Josie, is that they’re more frightened of you than you are of them.’

‘You know that for a fact, do you?’ she asked as she returned for the matches.

‘Any creature with two brain cells to rub together is more frightened of us than we are of them. From hippos to ants. They only lash out in panic.’

‘Well, that’s reassuring,’ she said. ‘I’ll do my best not to panic it, whatever it is.’

‘Do you want me to come and guard your back while you’re in the shower?’

She glanced at him and for a moment he thought she was going to say yes. Then, with a determined little shake of the head, ‘I don’t need a guard, I need a light.’

As she looked quickly away, the nets, glowing in the candlelight, moved in the light breeze coming in off the river and she was held, apparently entranced.

‘You don’t get that kind of magic with electricity,’ he said as her face softened.

‘No…’ Then, abruptly, ‘I’ll make sure to mention it to the photographer. Celebrity will like that nineteenth century effect.’

‘I’d be happier if you liked it.’

The words slipped out before he’d considered what they might mean. But then unconsidered words, actions had marked the day. He hadn’t been entirely himself since he’d smelled the tantalising aroma of coffee, caught a glimpse of Josie through the branches.

Or maybe he was being himself for the first time in a decade.

‘It’s a mosquito net,’ she pointed out. ‘What’s to be happy about?’

‘Of course. You’re absolutely right.’

She looked at him as if she wasn’t sure whether he was being serious. That made two of them…

‘So what am I likely to find in the bathroom?’ she demanded. ‘I’m assuming not hippos.’