Confessions of a Bad Bridesmaid Read Online Free PDF Page A

eyes of the woman in front of him. He’d shed his coat and scarf but he felt uncomfortably warm.
    ‘I beg your pardon?’
    Olivia paced slowly towards him. Her long, tanned, muscular legs were moving slowly and seductively, and he had to push down the spray of moisture that had just landed in his mouth and cling to the chaise longue in front of him. Her eyes were intent on him and her chin was down. She swayed and sashayed deliberately, without smiling, until she was right in front of him—her head reaching just underneath his chin.
    ‘I said we will leave.’
    But Edward didn’t hear her. All he could concentrate on was her heavy eyelashes and those golden breasts that rose and fell so heavily. He hadn’t seen the full effect of that lurid purple dress before. Her tanned skin glowed against the bright colour in the soft light. She brought her hands up to her hips and he wanted to shift—to move and make himself a little more comfortable—but he didn’t. He just stared down at her, his hands lightly clasped behind his back.
    ‘You are not obliged to stay. If my family and I are so offensive to you I can call you a taxi. Or perhaps you’d prefer to walk.’
    He let his gaze slide across her face and down her neck to take in the jut of her collarbones and that lovely chest of hers. Then he moved his eyes further south, roaming past the curve of her hip, her flat stomach, and down to those long, shapely legs. Strong legs that could wrap around a man’s neck. His eyes lingered on her painted toenails, peeping out from that pair of very high-heeled shoes, and then he drew his eyes back up to meet hers again.
    The woman had a body on her. And a sharp tongue. He wasn’t used to that. The women he knew were usually softer, gentler. But there was nothing gentle about Olivia Matthews. She was hard. Fast. And made of ice. He was immediately intrigued.
    ‘Livvie, are you coming?’ The lilting voice of Fiona called from the doorway.
    The femme fatale in front of him dropped her focus and turned to her friend.
    ‘Come on, Livvie. Will is dying to introduce you to everyone.’ Fiona sounded nervous.
    Olivia—or Livvie as her silly friend insisted on calling her—looked back at him, her eyes hard. He smiled again, which seemed to irritate her more as she stepped closer. So close he could smell her. Cinnamon and something sweet. Peaches...
    ‘I haven’t finished with you.’
    ‘I shall be awaiting your return with shivering anticipation.’
    She huffed again. A sound he found equal parts irritating and charming. Then she turned and left, her little friend pulling on her arm and whispering in her ear.
    Edward let a laugh escape. If nothing else, she was fun. Even if she did make his shoulders pull a little tighter. He strode to the fireplace and let it warm him up. The woman was trying, but at least for once he was feeling something. His usual diet of blank nothingness was becoming a little tiresome. Perhaps this weekend wouldn’t be as bad as he’d initially thought. Perhaps it would allow him to feel a little before he headed back to the real world. Grey and dull and solid.
    He held that thought up like a beacon, secretly hoping that the grey and dull didn’t take too long to return.
    * * *
    ‘Well, this must be the best friend.’
    Olivia had been whisked into a very warm room filled with bodies. A slew of faces and names had passed by her and she remembered none of them. Her blood was still burning from her encounter with the cold man in the other room. Those dark eyes of his had turned hard when she’d threatened him. She suspected he wasn’t used to being stood up to.
    Olivia turned to the female voice talking to her and smiled.
    ‘That’s me.’ She held out her hand for the young woman in front of her to shake. ‘You must be Phoebe.’
    Fiona had pointed out Will’s sister when they’d walked in. She wasn’t very tall, but Phoebe Winchester had a presence. Her hair was streaked with blonde, as if she’d