A Mail-Order Destiny Page 8

  Willow skimmed the room, looking for who might be missing. But when she realized all of the women were there, her eyes trailed back to the gold dress. "Who's that for?"

  The women all looked at each other and smiled.

  Juliette finally stepped forward. "You."

  "Me? But I already have a dress," she said, laughing, but her eyes went back to the gown. It was one of Abby's, and the shimmering gold silk looked like heaven.

  "Of course, you do." The women all laughed. "And while it's lovely, you deserve something a bit more luxurious tonight." Juliette took Willow's hand in hers. "This evening is about you."

  Willow teared up, but she sucked in a quick breath, trying to stave them off. She didn't want to cry in this moment, even though she was happy. "Does Abby know I'll be wearing this? Was one of you supposed to wear it?"

  Giggles sounded from the doorway, and Willow looked over her shoulder as Abby stepped fully into the room. "Of course, I know. I picked it out especially for you. In fact, it's a gift. I've never worn it before, and I know it'll look amazing on you."

  "But I couldn't! It must be worth a fortune."

  Violet snorted at the statement, and Willow realized she could easily afford any dress she wanted. But that wasn't the point. The dress belonged to Abby, and Willow didn't know if Rhys would eventually cut Abby off, if he couldn't convince her to leave with him.

  Abby walked toward her. "I want you to have it. I've never met anyone as kind as you, someone willing to take me in when I was a stranger and had nowhere to go. That dress—" her eyes flicked to the frothing material "—is the least I can do to repay you."

  Willow shook her head firmly. "There is no need to repay me. I'm happy to help. I was in your position not that long ago. All of us were. If the town hadn't stepped in and helped us, we would've had nowhere to go."

  Cradling her son in her arms, Clara nodded. "Willow is right. Things would've turned out a lot differently, if the town hadn’t taken us in. And we want you to know, we support Willow's choice in having you stay. We've all talked it over—" she gestured to the others in the room "—and we've decided Ivan's house is your home as long as you want it. Regardless if Willow gets married, or whatever else happens, it'll always be a safe haven for you, as well."

  Tears filled Abby's eyes, and she reached over and took Clara's free hand. "Thank you so much. All of you." She offered a smile to the whole room. "I don't know any of you very well, at least, not yet, but I hope to in the future. I see the sisterhood you have, what you've made here, and I so desperately want the same for myself. I may not be one of Ivan's brides, but I hope in time, I can be like a sister, too."

  There wasn't a dry eye in the room, and Willow was no exception. She stepped forward and hugged Abby. "You're already one of us. You came to Promise Creek alone, hoping for a new life. I'd say that makes you an honorary bride for Ivan."

  Laughter echoed through the room, and Abby finally sniffed and smiled. "Honorary bride? I like that."

  "Good. Because you are. Now—" she rubbed her hands together "—I think it's time to show the women—and men—of Promise Creek some fashion! What do you say, ladies?"

  A cheer rose up, and moments later, Willow was overtaken by the other brides as they helped her get ready. She couldn't have been happier.

  Chapter 11

  Willow had never believed in fairytales. Not the kind where fairy godmothers appeared, dresses and shoes transformed regular women into princesses, and where servants married princes. But when she stepped into the grand ballroom in the dress Abby selected for her, she believed.

  As if she were a high-powered magnet, all eyes turned in her direction when she walked in. Men eyed her appreciatively, their eyes widening as if they'd never seen her before and couldn't believe their eyes. She'd had admirers aplenty, but from the look of it, she'd have many more. Funny how a gown could do that.

  As she stepped farther into the room, men crowded around her.

  "You look incredible, Miss Packer!"

  "Absolutely stunning!"

  One man she'd been introduced to, but couldn't recall his name, took her hand and kissed the back of it amorously. "May I please call on you tomorrow, Miss Packer?"

  Willow's mouth opened and closed, the men's advances coming so quickly she didn't have time to respond to any of them. "Of course, but—" Her attention was snagged by another question, and she took a breath, trying to figure out how to answer and get the men to back away from her for a moment so she could think.

  Then, as if her wish was granted, the men quieted and gave her the space needed. She slumped with relief before a hand reached toward her, effectively cutting through the mob surrounding her. "Miss Packer, might I have a moment of your time?" Rhys stepped forward to take her away, but when a man didn't move out of Rhys' way quick enough, his eyes narrowed.

  The man swallowed hard, his eyes widening, before taking a hasty step in retreat. As if a silent message had passed between them, the men broke up and moved away. Rhys gave his attention back to Willow and held out his arm. "Shall we?"

  She couldn't decide whether to thank him or laugh, so instead, she took his arm and allowed him to lead her out of the ballroom. It only took her a moment to realize he was taking her back to his office.

  Once inside, she released his arm and allowed a chuckle to escape. "Those poor men. They didn't stand a chance against you, did they?"

  He raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

  "When you glared at them, their knees practically knocked together as they ran away."

  He snorted. "Any man I can intimidate away from you isn't worth your time. I don't care if the richest man in America told me to leave you, I still wouldn't. Let them maul the other single ladies."

  Willow's pulse raced. "You wouldn't?"

  "No."

  The finality in his voice sent heat swirling through her, and all she could think about was their kiss. She wasn't sure what to say, and finally, he turned away from her and leaned his head against the wall.

  "Are you all right?" she tentatively asked.

  He let out a short laugh. "No, Willow. I'm not all right."

  "What is it?"

  He sighed and turned, leaning back against the wall as his eyes met hers. "It's you."

  "Me?" She gulped, as he looked at her from the top of her head to her toes, lingering in places until she felt his eyes would light her on fire. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

  He pushed away from the wall and came to her slowly. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

  She wasn't, exactly. "You didn't. I just don't know what's going through your mind."

  He took her hands in his. "You are. You are constantly there, even when I tell myself you shouldn't be." Her breath hitched as he brought her closer, leaning his head against hers. "When you walked into the room, I could barely think, and when those men surrounded you, I couldn't stand it. I wanted to be the only one with you. As barbaric as that sounds," he said, ending with a short laugh.

  Her stomach clenched at what he was saying, excitement and longing spreading through her. "In that case, I don't mind you pulling me away. I want to be with you. Here, alone," she added, worried he'd think she meant forever. But in that moment, she realized, part of her did. She didn't know how it had happened or happened so quickly, but the idea of marrying Rhys appealed to her. They'd had a connection since the beginning, but it was more than that. She admired him. He was a man who loved his family, had come all this way to protect his sister. He worked to support himself and his family, and had built an empire. He didn't squash those under him. In fact, he did everything he could to raise people up, to reward hard work. Such qualities in his social sphere were rare, and she loved that about him.

  He squeezed her hand. "I want to be with you, too, Willow."

  "I'm here now."

  She leaned back a few inches to look in his eyes. They were clear green, and intense. "And I'm glad, but I want more than that. I want to court you." Her mou
th fell open, but before she could speak, he shook his head, pausing her words. "I admire you. Everything you've done in your life, what you're doing now. I appreciate that you took care of Abby when I couldn't. Everything I learn about you, tells me one thing. You are the kind of woman I want to share my life with."

  Her heart thrilled at his words, but reality dawned, bringing her down. "It makes me happy to hear you say that, but if we start courting and eventually marry, how will it work? We live in two very different worlds, Rhys."

  "Not so different. You forget, I'm wealthy, but my money is new. I'm not accepted in the upper circles, and frankly, I have no desire to be."

  "Still…"

  He shook his head. "Still nothing. You're wealthy in your own right, and have access to the same society I do. Although, I couldn’t care less about that. All that matters is you're with me."

  But that was part of the problem. "Rhys, your business is in the east. I can't leave. My life is here."

  "I know. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but we can work it out, if we decide we want to marry. Right now, all I'm asking for is the chance to explore that, to see if it's what we want."

  Willow appreciated what he was saying, but she wasn't sure. It all seemed so complicated. He was talking of courting her, of walking down a path toward marriage and a future, but she wasn't convinced their lives meshed enough to work. "I care about you, Rhys. More than I have for anyone. But I just don't know how this would work."

  He released her hands and moved his up, cupping her face so she would look in his eyes. "Just have faith. We can work it out if we want to. Let's just enjoy being together."

  She didn't know if he was right, but one thing she did know was she couldn't reject him. Not now. She wanted him, wanted it to be possible for them to be together. Because just the thought of him leaving made her ache, and she wasn't sure she would recover from it.

  She finally nodded, and he sucked in a breath of satisfaction. "I promise. You won't regret giving me this chance."

  "I certainly hope not."

  He laughed then and touched his lips to hers. What started off as sweet and soft, laughter and happiness, quickly turned serious. His movements slowed, the brush of his lips lingered, and suddenly, colors swirled behind Willow's eyes.

  Moaning, Willow wrapped her arms around Rhys' neck and opened to him. Her lips, her mind—and her heart.

  He growled as if sensing her acceptance, her need for him, and wrapped her tightly in his arms. He didn't rush the kiss as she expected, instead, he drew it out, savoring her mouth until they breathed together, kissing, and touching as one.

  She'd never felt closer to another person before, had never felt like her soul reached out and wrapped around another’s. But that's what it was like, as if every part of her opened and accepted him, collapsing all barriers.

  She'd never felt more herself in her life.

  As Rhys gripped her waist, Willow made a sound of pleasure, and something in him snapped.

  "Rhys." She moaned his name, unable to help herself.

  Just the sound of his name on her lips brought him to his knees. When he'd seen her in the ballroom with all those men surrounding her, a savage part of him that had only been reserved for business roared to life. She was his, and he'd had no problems scaring the others off. He'd do it again and again to know she was only his. He couldn't fight it anymore. He didn't want to. "I can't get enough of you. Every taste, every touch just makes me want more." He ran his hands up and down her back in heavy strokes. "Tell me you're mine, Willow." Her eyes widened. "Tell me." His words were soft like a caress, but they brooked no argument. His muscles tensed, while he stared in her eyes, waiting for the answer.

  "I'm yours, Rhys," she said softly.

  He groaned as he ravaged her mouth. He wasn't civilized; he wasn't careful. But he was honest, and he showed her with his lips, his body, how much he cared for her.

  Knocking sounded at the door, but he ignored it, knowing whoever was there would leave without his answer. But that little nudge back to reality grounded him. Driven almost to the brink of madness, he pulled away from her, tilting his head to the side and sucking in air. He needed to calm down, bring his body back under control so he could treat her the way she deserved. Willow was important, and he wanted her to know he would do everything in his power to protect her.

  Even from himself.

  He shook like a wet dog as he choked out his passions.

  "Rhys…are you all right?"

  The soft puff of her breath on his neck was heaven. How on earth could he possibly wait the time needed to court her before talking her into marrying him? He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he recognized it was right. It wasn't about logic. It was instinct. He needed Willow in his life permanently, and he didn't hesitate with his instincts.

  With that knowledge steadying him, he nuzzled her neck and pulled away. "Yes. Just being with you makes me lose control, and I don't want to do anything that would make you feel unvalued."

  Her gaze softened, and she reached up and brushed his cheek. There was something in her gaze, and she looked as though she wanted to say something, but instead, she only smiled. "I feel very valued."

  "Good." Realizing where they were and more importantly, where they weren't, he cleared his throat. "Um. We should probably get back to the party."

  He rubbed his neck sheepishly, and she grinned. "I kind of like the little party we're having in here."

  He closed his eyes and whimpered. "You're testing me, Willow."

  Eyes still closed, her mouth brushed against his. "And I always will."

  His lips quirked as he looked at her. "I wouldn't have you any other way." She blushed, and he wanted to chase the color from her throat to beneath her bodice.

  She patted her hair self-consciously. She looked deliciously mussed, but she moved to a mirror on the wall behind his desk in the corner and ran her fingers through her ringlets and brought them to a sense of order. "There. Hopefully no one will suspect."

  Oh, but he wanted people to suspect. He wanted all the other men to look at her and know he'd claimed her. He was barbaric, like he'd said earlier, but he couldn't summon up even an ounce of remorse. He wanted her, and she wanted him. He didn't give a fig who knew. He stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "You look gorgeou—"

  The plank beneath his boot snapped, and he realized instantly Willow was on it, too. He yanked her closer to his body to protect her, but luckily, they only fell a foot. He held her up, and set her back on a sound plank. "Are you injured?"

  "I'm all right. Just surprised."

  He stepped up and out of the hole before they studied the empty space below. "I guess that plank was rotted, and we missed it somehow. Not surprising, though. The sheer number of boards we replaced was staggering."

  "The hotel looks wonderful." She smiled at him reassuringly, and he was amazed by her. She’d fallen through a hole and wasn't ruffled at all, when any woman of his acquaintance back home would have been in hysterics.

  He shook his head. "You amaze me, Willow."

  "I do?"

  "Yes. You appear delicate, but you're strong. I admire that about you." She blushed again, but instead of giving into the urge to kiss her, he took her hand. "If we stay in here much longer, we're going to miss the whole party."

  "We couldn't have that," she teased.

  He didn't even care about the party any more, either. All he wanted to do was take Willow away and never let go. He cursed and marched toward the door. Turning the knob, he pushed, but the door didn't budge. He pushed again, but it wouldn't open.

  "Is something wrong?" she asked.

  He tried again before stepping back and inspecting the door. "The door is jammed."

  "Does that happen a lot?"

  "No." Immediately his mind moved through options of what had happened. The door couldn't have warped in that time, but it was possible it'd broken when they'd closed it, even though he hadn't been rough. Looking around the
edges, he didn't see any section of the door against the frame. He knelt down and looked through the key hole, but it was clear.

  Frowning, he reached in his pocket for the key, and inserted it, turning it back and forth, first locking and then unlocking the mechanism. It was unlocked, so there was so reason it shouldn't open.

  He turned the handle and pushed, but again, it wouldn't open.

  "Are we stuck?"

  For the first time, he heard a tremor of fear in Willow's voice, and he turned to her. "No. The door seems to be sticking, but we're not stuck. I'm surprised someone hasn't come along and asked us to return to the party already, as is."

  "All right."

  He took in her hunched frame. "Are you scared?"

  "I just don't like being locked in rooms."

  He frowned. "Were you locked in one before?" She shrugged, but he pressed on. "Tell me."

  "My previous employer locked us in closets sometimes, if we did something wrong. Not enough to fire us, but enough to teach us a lesson."

  His mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"

  She bit her lip and nodded. "It didn't happen often to me, he had a…preference for me. But when I was locked away, I hated it. I felt as if there wasn't enough air, and I'd panic." She swallowed hard and looked around, as if gauging how much air was currently in the room.

  He walked toward her and held her upper arms. "Look at me." He waited for her eyes to meet his. "I'm going to get us out. You needn't be afraid."

  She nodded, but didn't look as though she believed him. "Hopefully, someone will come for us soon."

  She shivered in his arms, and it was the last straw. He refused to have Willow scared. He let go of her and strode to the door, lifted his leg, and kicked the wood with lethal force. As he'd hoped, the wooden trim was rotted, and gave way easily. The door crashed to the ground in the hall, and debris floated down from the wall where the door had been attached. He looked back at Willow.