A Winter's Wedding Read Online Free PDF

The gorgeous mirrors were a real talking point, and that chandelier with its rainbow-coloured droplets was just so divine. Emily vowed to treat herself to a new hairstyle in the New Year.
    The car started first time, and Emily could have kissed the steering wheel. There wasn’t much traffic as many of the usual Christmas Eve shoppers had opted to stay in bed. So in less than five minutes, Emily was pulling up right outside the charity shop. The lights were on, and she could see a young man busily sawing pieces of wood. He had his back to her, so all she could make out was a very nice bum and a pair of long legs in black combats. The ancient shelves in the shop were only half filled with bric-a-brac. There was a poster in the window. It said: DONATIONS URGENTLY REQUIRED .
    ‘Good, then,’ Emily said, feeling suddenly quite virtuous and smug.
    Through force of habit she checked her make-up in the rear-view mirror and then hopped out of the car, fetching her box from the back seat and closing the car door with one elbow. The box was very heavy, but she managed to lock her car and open the shop door without too much trouble.
    ‘Hi there,’ she said cheerfully as the door pinged shut behind her.
    ‘Be right with you,’ the man said, setting down his saw. Then he straightened up and turned to face her.
    ‘Hi again,’ Emily said, blushing furiously. For if Arabella were ever to set eyes on this specimen of male beauty, she would have him stripped and tied to her bedposts without further delay. And not untie him until it was confirmed by a doctor that she was expecting triplets.
    He was utterly gorgeous. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, mischievous blue eyes, tousled blond hair. He was wearing a washed-out rugby shirt with the collar turned up in a casual way. He looked posh. And his nose was slightly dented, so maybe he was an actual rugby player, Emily thought to herself. But then, if he were really a posh rugby type, why would he be sawing wood in a shabby little charity shop on a freezing cold Christmas Eve?
    ‘I see you’ve got something for me?’ he said, nodding at Emily’s box of donations.
    ‘Yes, yes, I’ve been tidying up,’ Emily said, setting the box on the counter.
    ‘Thanks a million, yeah. A designer pasta maker … nice one, thanks. There’s some great stuff here. Did you see our poster or something?’
    ‘No, I just felt like de-cluttering,’ Emily admitted. ‘But now you mention it, I’m sure you’ll be swamped with unwanted gifts in the very near future.’
    ‘Hope so. Or maybe people will just take everything back to the shops for a refund. You know, with the recession and everything?’
    ‘Yes, well, maybe they’d feel better giving stuff to charity. What charity are you supporting here, by the way?’
    ‘Retired horses, it is. Some lovely old horses – about thirty of them, so far – and it costs an absolute fortune in vets’ bills. We haven’t got the shop sign up yet. We only opened for business three months ago.’
    ‘But I thought this shop was always here?’ Emily said, gazing around at the various shelves. Most had warped slightly and turned yellow with age.
    ‘It has always been here in one form or another, yes. But my sister has taken over the lease now,’ the man explained. ‘And she’s in the process of setting up her own charity. Sylvia runs a stable for retired horses – it’s all her project, really. I’m just helping her out for a while and putting up the new shelving, and so on.’
    ‘I see.’
    ‘Yes, I’m going to take down all these tragic old things and put up some funky cube-type arrangements. You won’t know this shop in a few months’ time. Sylvia’s got big plans for it.’
    ‘Sounds great. Well, good luck with the shop … and merry Christmas,’ Emily said, backing reluctantly to the door. She wanted to stay longer and go on gazing at this divine vision of a man, but she couldn’t think of any legitimate reason for hanging around – unless