The Wedding Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page A

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    His chest clenched at the thought of the part he was going to play in putting the finishing touches on Rose’s wedding that week. Especially when it meant watching her give herself to a man who simply didn’t deserve her.
    His route from home took him through the chalet’s gardens, down past the gazebo that stood in the middle of the rose garden, before he slipped in through one of the side doors and into the main hall. It was empty of furniture at the moment, except for a single table on which RJ could see a pile of wedding magazines.
    Rose was standing in the middle of the floor, looking around as if she was trying to imagine something. She was wearing dark jeans and a soft cream sweater, her hair tied back with a ribbon. She’d taken her heels off to go barefoot, the way she sometimes did when there wasn’t anyone else around, and RJ knew without having to hear it that she would be humming a show tune to herself. For all that Rose pretended to like classical music, songs from musicals were always what she ended up humming.
    Sure enough, when RJ got closer, he could hear the strains of an old Rodgers and Hammerstein number.
    He loved knowing so many little things about her. Like the fact that for all she pretended not to like sugar in her coffee because it ruined the full complexity of the flavor, Rose actually preferred it heaped with the stuff. Or the way she would draw little maps of wedding setups on Post-it Notes while she was on the phone, but insist on making a properly drawn out plan before they got to work.
    What irritated RJ — no, what made genuine anger flare up just thinking about it — was his near certainty that Donovan didn’t know any of those little things about her.
    The plastic surgeon looked at this wonderful, individual woman and what did he see? Some cookie cutter image that probably had more to do with his own imagination than with reality.
    And if her fiancé never really saw her, RJ was convinced the other man didn’t really want her . Donovan McIntyre just wanted someone who was willing to fit into the carefully labeled space he had in his existence marked “wife.” Which, as far as RJ could see, had everything to do with making him look good at champagne parties and absolutely nothing to do with Rose.
    Yet bizarrely, there was a part of RJ that couldn’t help being a little pleased about it. Because it meant that all those small special things about Rose were his and not Donovan’s. They were things that he shared with Rose and no one else. To RJ, Donovan McIntyre had no right to those parts of her. In fact, he had no right to any of her.
    Yet somehow, a week from now, Donovan would have all of Rose, while RJ would have nothing.
    Why couldn’t Rose see how wrong her fiancé was for her? RJ thought as he stepped forward into the room.
    “Good morning, Rose. What’s the emergency?”
    Rose hurried over to the table with the bridal magazines. Most of them had Post-it Notes sticking out of the covers, often in two or three different colors. She opened the one closest to her.
    “What do you think about a wedding set-up lined with fountains and arranged so that it looks like the bride and groom are standing in the middle of a big pool of water?”
    “It sounds like you’d get very wet,” RJ said, moving to stand beside her. This close, he was intensely aware of every movement she made, her scent, the flecks of gold in her green eyes.
    “Well, what about if we do put up enough mirrors so that it looks like there’s an infinite number of weddings going on while Donovan and I — ”
    “Rose,” RJ asked, “what’s going on? I thought your wedding was settled. You’re going to get married beneath the gazebo. It’s all planned.”
    She shook her head rapidly, several strands of hair flying out from her ponytail. “I can’t get married underneath a gazebo. No one gets married underneath a gazebo these days.”
    He frowned. “Of course they do. At least half our weddings