"Well," Ashley said, "for now I'm the girl of your dreams, Ryan. You'd better get used to it, I guess. How's England? Did you get up to York yet?"

"I did, and damned if the guy doesn't have the original molds for the sixteenth- and seventeenth-century clock corners and other hardware. But he's retiring, so I bought them off of him. Now I've got to find someone who can do the casting with them back home. The sales haven't been that good so far, but I've got one outside of Worcester tomorrow that is rumored to have some excellent stuff, and another one in Herefordshire the next day before I head over to Gloucester, down to Devon, and then back to London."

"Sounds like you'll be busy until you fly back," Ashley said.

"Would it sound crazy if I said I missed you?" Ryan surprised her by saying suddenly. "And I miss Egret Pointe, much to my surprise."

"You sure it's me, or is it Mrs. B.'s cooking?" Ashley teased him.

He was silent a moment, as if considering her words, but then he said, "Nah, Ash, it's definitely you I miss. And, of course, the girls," he added.

She laughed. "You are so bad, but if the truth be known, the girls miss you too."

"I want to make love to you, Ashley," he said low.

"I know," she admitted.

"Are we going to make love?" he asked softly.

"Probably," she told him. "But not until after the wedding."

He chuckled. "I'm not going to disappear off the radar like the others," he said.

"Experience has taught me not to count on my bridegrooms," Ashley told him dryly. "Your sister has done us a gorgeous bedroom, by the way. The bed came from your shop, and it's incredible. It's got an eight-foot headboard."

"Bloody hell! The one with the linen fold paneling?" He didn't sound happy.

"Yes, why?"

"It was a special order for a client," he told her. Then he laughed. "But they're in Europe this summer, and I did say it wouldn't be ready until autumn. It will have to be late autumn. That headboard takes a long time to carve."

"I'm sorry," Ashley told him. "I didn't know."

"It's all right. Frankie does this to me once in a while. She comes into the workshops and plunders whatever takes her fancy," he explained.

"It's a hell of a bed," Ashley murmured. "We could have a lot of fun in it."

He laughed again. "I'm getting a hard-on just thinking about it," Ryan said. "Are you blushing, Ash? I get this distinct feeling you're blushing."

"Smart-ass!" she replied. "How do you do it? No one else can make me blush."

"No one?" he asked.

"Nope."

"Maybe this marriage of convenience is going to be something else," he suggested. "Maybe it'll end up being more."

Ashley was very silent, then she said, "Now, don't go getting all romantic on me, Ryan. We're just getting to know each other, after all."

"We're going to know each other better in a few days," he said.

"You've got sex on the brain," she told him. "And it's the middle of the night in England. You need some sleep. Go to bed."

"So you do care," he teased her.


"Maybe a little," she allowed. "Good night, Ryan Mulcahy."

"Good night, Ashley Kimbrough. See you soon," he said, and then he rang off.

Four days, she thought as she set the phone back down. Four days and she would be a married woman. Everything was ready and waiting. The judge. The guests. The dinner menu. The flowers. And a wedding dress. She smiled. It wasn't really a wedding dress per se. She had been browsing at a small, upscale mall twenty miles from Egret Pointe. There was an elegant, more traditional little dress shop there that she occasionally shopped in, and in the window had been the perfect dress for her wedding. It was cream-colored silk chiffon with a flirty calf-length skirt, cap sleeves, and a draped boat neckline. She went in, tried it on, and bought it.

"Special party, Ms. Kimbrough?" the saleswoman asked with a smile.

"No," she lied. "I haven't anywhere to wear it yet, but I hope I will. It's just so pretty I can't resist it, and it is in my size, after all."

"It actually looks better on you than on some of the smaller girls," the saleswoman said. "Funny how some dresses look better on one person than on another, especially when they all look the same on a hanger. Cash or charge?"

Ashley took the dress home and showed it to Mrs. B. "What do you think?" she said. "I thought this time something simpler might be better than something more bridal and formal."

"It's perfect, my dearie," Mrs. B. said with a smile. "And it is a bit bridal, if you don't mind my saying it. I think it's the length. You'll look beautiful in it."

And then Ashley realized that she was nervous. Especially when, on the day before the wedding, Nina gave her a bag as they were closing up. "What's this?" she said.


"You haven't picked anything for your wedding night," Nina said. "So I picked it for you. I know-I know everything you've said about marriage of convenience, but I've seen you with Ryan. You're attracted to each other, and if you don't end up in bed tomorrow night you will one night soon. So wear this."

Ashley opened the bag and peered inside. She immediately recognized the nightgown Nina had chosen. It was simple: a lavender silk number with spaghetti straps, that clung to the wearer like a second skin. It would reveal every asset she possessed, and then some. "You've got a wicked mind, Nina," she said, closing the bag.

"It's perfect for you," Nina replied with a grin. "Now, you are not to come in tomorrow, Ashley. Let me remind you, late August is as dead as a doornail in town. I might get a few browsers and maybe a sale or two, but I will not be busy. I'll spend my day updating the stock on the computer, close up at three, and be up at the hall all polished and brushed in time for the wedding."

"If I don't come in, what am I supposed to do until four thirty?" Ashley asked her.

"If I know you-and I think I do-you'll spend your time checking three times over to make certain everything is okay, and it will be. You'll pace, and finally nap before taking a shower and getting ready for the wedding. Is Ryan back yet?"

Ashley looked at her watch. "He should be landing at Kennedy right about now. Let me go and check." She went over to the PC in her office and went immediately to the British Airways site for arrivals. "Yes, they got in right on time. Five minutes ago."

"Go home then. He'll be calling, and trust me-he's going to need reassurance right about now. Bridal nerves aren't just confined to brides," Nina told her.

Ashley got into her Solstice and drove home. She had no sooner gotten through the door when her cell began ringing. She flipped it open. "Ashley here," she said.

"I'm home," his voice said. "Rather, I'm in a car service car on my way into town. When should I come out tomorrow?"

"Do you want to come with your mother and Frankie?" she asked him. "The limo is picking them up at two. Your mother is staying with your sister tonight."

"Yeah, that's fine. Tell the limo to pick me up last, okay? I'll carry my suit and change when we get there, if that's okay."

"Be shaved and shorn by then," Ashley said. "Depending on the traffic, you're just going to get here a half hour or less before the judge does his thing."

"No problem. You nervous?"

"A little," she admitted. "You?"

"Yeah, a little. I guess I never figured this would happen, and it probably wouldn't have except for my father's damned will," Ryan told her. "I might be a confirmed bachelor. I've never been sure."

"Don't you want kids someday?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure," he told her.

"Then you can't be a confirmed bachelor, Ryan. And with your mother you'd have to have a wife if you expected her to accept your children," Ashley said. "Lina is a very conservative and traditional woman."

"How'd you get her to change her mind about coming to the wedding when she learned it was a business arrangement first?" he asked.

"I told her that if by chance this marriage of convenience turned out to be more than just convenient, we'd call in the priest and do it the way she would want," Ashley said. "Didn't Frankie tell you that?"

She actually heard him gulp. Then he said, "No. Frankie just said you were wonderful with Ma, and eased her around her distress after you told her the truth. She said Ma really likes you, and let you sweet-talk her," Ryan answered.

Ashley laughed. "What I did was soothe your mother's conscience. She's a good woman, Ryan. I'm sorry we're disappointing her."

"Maybe we won't disappoint her in the end," he suggested softly. "Maybe before the two years are up we will call in the priest, Ash."

"Maybe we will," she allowed, her heart beating just a little faster at his words. Did he really like her enough already to be considering a real marriage? "Get some rest before tomorrow," Ashley said. "It's going to be a big day."

"I'm hoping for a big night," he said.

"You're waggling your eyebrows, aren't you?" she countered.

He laughed. "How can you tell?"

"You always waggle your eyebrows when you make suggestive remarks," she told him. "It makes me laugh, because it makes you look so naughty."

He grinned. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ash. Dream of me, okay?"

Dream of him? She almost laughed aloud. Her noble tribune husband on the Channel looked just like him. That was some dreaming, she thought. She was tempted to visit the Channel this evening, but she knew that if she did she would be tired tomorrow, and she wasn't about to spend a night on her fantasy when tomorrow she could have some reality. He wanted to sleep with her. No, he wanted to fuck her. And she was going to let him do it while she enjoyed every minute of it. Legally they would be married, so why not, if he wanted it? Their behavioral agreement gave them the choice. And there was no denying the sexual attraction between them. Maybe after they had done it a few times the thrill would pale for them. But even as she considered it, Ashley knew that wasn't going to happen. He was going to love doing her, and she was going to love letting him.

A weather front came through in the night, chasing the humidity out to sea and bringing rain that ended around ten in the morning. The day was suddenly perfect. Well, why the hell not? Ashley thought. She was a Kimbrough. This was her wedding day. And it was going to happen this time. No surprises. No embarrassment. It was going to happen! Byrnes had brought her coffee, and then she had gobbled a plate of scrambled eggs before hurrying out to the gardens to make certain everything would be just perfect.

Old Tony, her gardener, and young Tony, his grandson and sometime helper, had spent the summer coaxing a pair of Sterling Silver rosebushes up a trellis. They had pruned and fussed over the roses to make certain that today the trellis was covered in blooms. Some were fully opened, some half-opened but the effect was visually spectacular. Ten chairs covered in white cotton covers were set up before the trellis, five to each side. Urns filled with lavender and white flowers stood on either side of the trellis. Lavender was Ashley's favorite color.

"Will the flowers hold until four thirty?" Ashley asked old Tony.

He nodded. "The sun doesn't come around here this time of year until just after three thirty, missus. It's gonna look beautiful."

"Thank you," Ashley said. "Keep the dogs from it."

He nodded his acknowledgment.

Returning to the house, Ashley went to the dining room. It had already been set up. The table was covered with a white silk damask cloth embroidered with multicolored silk flowers along its border. "Where did this come from?" she asked Byrnes.


"It's been stored in the linen chest since your mother married your father," he answered her. "Hasn't been used since. We had to wash it and iron it to get the wrinkles out of it from all those years being folded up. I'd forgotten all about it, but you know how sentimental Mrs. B. is. She remembered, and thought it should be on the table today."

"The flower arrangement is spectacular," Ashley noted, approving the big cut-crystal bowl of purple, lavender, pink, and white dahlias, and greens.

"Did them myself," Byrnes said. "We're using the Royal Worcester and the Waterford tonight. Do you want the Gorham Fairfax or the Reed and Barton 1810?"

"Use the Fairfax. I like it better with the Royal Worcester," Ashley said. Then she left the dining room. There was absolutely nothing for her to do. The garden was ready. Byrnes had everything in hand in the house, and if she dared to venture into the kitchen she would hurt Mrs. B.'s feelings. She had canceled her regular Saturday massage, but she did have a noon appointment at Prime Cuts for a manicure and a pedicure. She glanced at the grandfather clock in the hall as it began to strike, and saw it was eleven forty-five. Ashley raced to her car.