‘‘What about … the IRS office and the beach?'' She didn't know how he'd managed those chance meetings.
Mark shook his head and grinned. ‘‘Coincidence, unless you had anything to do with those. You didn't, did you?''
‘‘Absolutely not,'' she replied indignantly.
Still grinning, he said, ‘‘I didn't really think you had.''
Shelly started walking, her destination unclear. She felt too restless to continue standing there; unfortunately the one action that truly appealed to her was leaping into his arms.
Mark matched his own steps to hers.
‘‘It's Aunt Milly's wedding dress, I know it is,'' Shelly mumbled under her breath. She'd tried to bring up the subject earlier, but Mark had refused to listen. ‘‘You broke off an engagement because you believe fate has somehow thrown us together.''
‘‘No, Shelly, the dress doesn't have anything to do with how I feel,'' Mark responded calmly.
‘‘But you'd already decided to marry someone else!''
‘‘I'm choosing my own destiny, which is to spend the rest of my life with you.''
‘‘You might have consulted with me first. I have no intention of getting married … not for years and years.''
‘‘I'll wait.''
‘‘You can't do that,'' she cried. He didn't understand because he was too respectable and adorable and so much of a gentleman. The only thing that would work would be to heartlessly send him away before he wasted the better part of his life waiting for her.
She stopped and turned to face Mark. She was careful to wear just the right expression of remorse and regret. ‘‘This is all very flattering, but I don't love you. I'm sorry, Mark. You're the last person in the world I want to hurt.''
For a moment Mark said nothing, then he slowly shrugged and looked away. ‘‘You can't be any more direct than that, can you? There's no chance you'll ever fall in love with me?''
‘‘None.'' Her breath fell harshly, painfully, from her lips. It shouldn't hurt this much to do the right thing. It shouldn't hurt to be noble. ‘‘You're very nice, but … ''
‘‘So you've said before.''
Falteringly, as though the movement caused him pain, he lifted his hand to her face, his fingers tenderly caressing the delicate curve of her jaw.
Until that moment, Shelly hadn't understood how fiercely proud Mark was. He could have dealt with every argument, calmed every doubt, answered every question, but there was nothing he could say when she denied all feeling for him.
‘‘You mean it, don't you?'' he asked huskily. He was standing so close that his breath warmed her face.
Shelly had schooled her features to reveal none of her clamoring emotions. His touch, so light, so potent, seemed to clog her throat with anguish, and she couldn't speak.
‘‘If that's what you want-'' he dropped his hand abruptly ‘‘-I won't trouble you again.'' With those words, he turned and walked away. Before she fully realized what he intended, Mark had disappeared around a corner.
‘‘You let him go, you idiot!'' she whispered to herself. A lone tear escaped and she smeared it across her cheek.
Mark meant what he said about not bothering her. He was a man of his word. He'd never try to see her again-and if they did happen upon each other, he'd pretend he didn't know her.
He might eventually decide to marry Janice. Hadn't he admitted he was fond of the other woman?
Shelly's heart clenched painfully inside her chest. Before she could stop herself, before she could question the wisdom of her actions, she ran after Mark.
She turned the corner and was halfway down the sidewalk when she realized he wasn't anywhere to be seen. She came to a skidding halt, then whirled around, wondering how he could possibly have gotten so far in so short a time.
Mark stepped out from the side of a building, hands on his hips, a cocky, jubilant smile on his face. ‘‘What took you so long, darlin'?'' he asked, holding out his arms.
Shelly didn't need a second invitation to throw herself into his embrace. His mouth feasted on hers, his kiss hungry and demanding, filled with enough emotion to last a lifetime.
Shelly slid her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes, giving herself completely to his kiss, to his love. The only thing that mattered was being in his arms-where she was supposed to be.
‘‘I take it this means you love me, too?'' he whispered close to her ear. His voice was rough with emotion.
Shelly nodded. ‘‘I'm so afraid.''
‘‘Don't be. I'm confident enough for both of us.''
‘‘This is crazy,'' she said, but she wouldn't have moved out of his arms for the world. Breathing deeply, she buried her face in his chest.
‘‘But it's a good kind of crazy.''
‘‘Aunt Milly saw us together in her dream. She wrote me about a tall, blue-eyed man.''
‘‘Who knows if it was me or not?'' Mark whispered into her hair, and brushed his lips over her temple. ‘‘Who cares? If fate had anything to do with me finding you or if your aunt Milly's wedding dress is responsible, I can't say. Personally, I couldn't care less. I love you, Shelly, and I believe you love me, too.''
She glanced up at this man who had altered the course of her life and smiled, her heart too full for words. ‘‘I do love you,'' she said when she could. ‘‘An accountant! In a suit! Hardly the husband I imagined for myself.''
Mark chuckled. ‘‘I'd never have guessed I could find myself head over heels in love with a woman who wears the kind of clothes you do, but I am.''
‘‘I do love you,'' Shelly repeated and closed her eyes.
THE MORNING of her wedding day, Shelly, who was rarely nervous, couldn't sit still. Her mother was even worse, pacing in front of her, dabbing her eyes and sniffling.
‘‘I can't believe my baby's getting married.''
Shelly had to restrain herself from reminding her dear mother that less than a month before, she'd been desperate to marry her daughter off. Thank goodness Jill was around. Without her best friend there to reassure her, Shelly didn't know what she would have done. While her mother fussed with the caterers, complained to the florists and fretted about who had a key to the kitchen in the reception hall, Jill led Shelly upstairs to her childhood bedroom and helped her dress. When Shelly was finished, Jill stood back to examine her.
‘‘Well?'' Shelly asked, smoothing her hand down the antique dress, loving the feel of the satin and lace against her fingers. It was probably her imagination but now that she was wearing the dress, really wearing it, she could almost feel a magic quality.
Tears gathered in Jill's eyes as she stared at her friend.
‘‘That bad?'' Shelly teased.
Jill pressed her fingertips to her lips. ‘‘You're beautiful,'' she whispered. ‘‘Mark isn't going to believe his eyes when he sees you.''
‘‘Do you really think so?'' Shelly hated sounding so insecure, but she wanted everything perfect for this day. She was crazy in love-and crazy enough to give her mother free rein planning her wedding. Crazy enough to go through with a formal wedding in the first place. If it had been up to her, they'd have eloped weeks ago. But Mark had wanted the wedding and her mother certainly wasn't going to be cheated out of this moment. So Shelly had gone along with it.
Mark and her mother had defeated the majority of her ideas. She'd wanted to hire clowns to entertain at the reception, but her mother didn't seem to think that was a good idea.
Shelly had never been that fond of white wedding cake, either. She wanted something a bit less traditional, like Cherries Jubilee, but Mark was afraid something might catch on fire and so in the interests of safety, Shelly had agreed to a traditional cake, decorated with pink roses.
A knock sounded on her bedroom door and Jill opened it. In walked Aunt Milly, looking absolutely delighted with herself.