And the Bride Wore Prada by Katie Oliver Read Free Book Online
Authors: Katie Oliver
drifts of snow outside, and birds darting back and forth in flashes of brown and blue, the prospect of more snow seemed unlikely.
But then again, this
was
Scotland, and in the dead of bloody winter...
‘Just make sure I’m at the top of the list,’ Helen snapped, and rang off.
Now
what was she to do? She couldn’t bear the thought of another minute spent in the company of that miserable, tight-lipped Scotsman who acted as if her very existence was a personal affront.
Still, she reflected as she hung up, for once events had conspired to her advantage. After all, she was sharing a roof – and quite a vast roof it was, too – with Dominic Heath and his fiancée, Gemma.
She couldn’t have arranged a better set of circumstances if she’d tried.
The sound of footsteps and low voices approaching echoed across the hallway. Helen risked a peek around the corner as Dominic and his girlfriend emerged from the dining room and made their way towards the stairs. She ducked her head back. They hadn’t seen her, thank God.
‘…glad you finally agree with me on this, Dom,’ Gemma was saying, her voice low but distinct.
‘I told you, babes, I want kids just as much as you do,’ he replied. ‘The time has to be right, that’s all.’
‘Well, then,’ she pointed out, ‘good thing we’re getting married in a few weeks’ time. A Christmas wedding in Northton Grange will be incredibly romantic, don’t you think? Even if we practically had to elope to manage it.’
Helen hardly dared to breathe. It would be embarrassing – not to mention awkward ‒ to reveal her presence now. She only hoped that they didn’t see her sitting here, blatantly eavesdropping...
‘We can’t have the paparazzi bollocksing everything up, can we?’ Dominic replied.
‘No, of course not. I want a proper wedding, with all the trimmings – and
no
bloody paps,’ Gemma said firmly. ‘I want bridesmaids in tartan gowns, and groomsmen in kilts, and a horse-drawn sleigh, and—’
‘And a Prada wedding gown,’ Dominic finished. ‘Yeah, I know, Gems. You’ve told me often enough. But if it were up to me, we really
would
elope. Or get married in a chapel at Gretna Green.’
‘Gretna Green?’ she demanded, and came to a halt, just yards from where Helen sat. ‘Have you lost your mind, Dominic? A girl only gets married once in her life, and her wedding should be perfect.’
‘Yes, of course it should! But damn it, babes, be reasonable!’ Dominic hissed. ‘Christmas is less than a month away. There’s no time to put a massive wedding together – not the kind of over-the-top wedding
you
fancy, at any rate – in a few weeks!’
‘Oh, very well. I’ll scale it back, then. I’ll only have six bridesmaids, instead of twelve. And I suppose I can make do without groomsmen in kilts...although I fancied having at least two, to hold the crossed swords over our heads as we exit the castle to leave on our honeymoon.’
Dominic didn’t bother to point out that they were in the middle of the Scottish bloody highlands, surrounded by snow with another foot on the way, and that the likelihood of pulling off even a scaled-down version of the dream wedding his bride-to-be wanted was slim to non-existent.
But he’d learnt to pick his battles. And this, he decided resignedly, wasn’t one of them.
‘Good thinking, babes,’ he told her instead, and leant forward to kiss her.
Helen heard the sound of smooching, followed by more smooching, and Gemma’s giggles. She winced. Dear
God
, but this was excruciating...
‘C’mon, Gems,’ Dominic growled, ‘let’s go upstairs and christen our bedroom again.’
‘But, Dom,’ her voice was scandalized ‘we can’t! It’s practically the middle of the day! We’re supposed to mix and mingle with the others. They’ll wonder where we’ve gone to—’
‘Screw ’em,’ he said, and smacked her on the bottom. ‘They can mix and mingle with each other for a bit. Let’s you and I go and make
But then again, this
was
Scotland, and in the dead of bloody winter...
‘Just make sure I’m at the top of the list,’ Helen snapped, and rang off.
Now
what was she to do? She couldn’t bear the thought of another minute spent in the company of that miserable, tight-lipped Scotsman who acted as if her very existence was a personal affront.
Still, she reflected as she hung up, for once events had conspired to her advantage. After all, she was sharing a roof – and quite a vast roof it was, too – with Dominic Heath and his fiancée, Gemma.
She couldn’t have arranged a better set of circumstances if she’d tried.
The sound of footsteps and low voices approaching echoed across the hallway. Helen risked a peek around the corner as Dominic and his girlfriend emerged from the dining room and made their way towards the stairs. She ducked her head back. They hadn’t seen her, thank God.
‘…glad you finally agree with me on this, Dom,’ Gemma was saying, her voice low but distinct.
‘I told you, babes, I want kids just as much as you do,’ he replied. ‘The time has to be right, that’s all.’
‘Well, then,’ she pointed out, ‘good thing we’re getting married in a few weeks’ time. A Christmas wedding in Northton Grange will be incredibly romantic, don’t you think? Even if we practically had to elope to manage it.’
Helen hardly dared to breathe. It would be embarrassing – not to mention awkward ‒ to reveal her presence now. She only hoped that they didn’t see her sitting here, blatantly eavesdropping...
‘We can’t have the paparazzi bollocksing everything up, can we?’ Dominic replied.
‘No, of course not. I want a proper wedding, with all the trimmings – and
no
bloody paps,’ Gemma said firmly. ‘I want bridesmaids in tartan gowns, and groomsmen in kilts, and a horse-drawn sleigh, and—’
‘And a Prada wedding gown,’ Dominic finished. ‘Yeah, I know, Gems. You’ve told me often enough. But if it were up to me, we really
would
elope. Or get married in a chapel at Gretna Green.’
‘Gretna Green?’ she demanded, and came to a halt, just yards from where Helen sat. ‘Have you lost your mind, Dominic? A girl only gets married once in her life, and her wedding should be perfect.’
‘Yes, of course it should! But damn it, babes, be reasonable!’ Dominic hissed. ‘Christmas is less than a month away. There’s no time to put a massive wedding together – not the kind of over-the-top wedding
you
fancy, at any rate – in a few weeks!’
‘Oh, very well. I’ll scale it back, then. I’ll only have six bridesmaids, instead of twelve. And I suppose I can make do without groomsmen in kilts...although I fancied having at least two, to hold the crossed swords over our heads as we exit the castle to leave on our honeymoon.’
Dominic didn’t bother to point out that they were in the middle of the Scottish bloody highlands, surrounded by snow with another foot on the way, and that the likelihood of pulling off even a scaled-down version of the dream wedding his bride-to-be wanted was slim to non-existent.
But he’d learnt to pick his battles. And this, he decided resignedly, wasn’t one of them.
‘Good thinking, babes,’ he told her instead, and leant forward to kiss her.
Helen heard the sound of smooching, followed by more smooching, and Gemma’s giggles. She winced. Dear
God
, but this was excruciating...
‘C’mon, Gems,’ Dominic growled, ‘let’s go upstairs and christen our bedroom again.’
‘But, Dom,’ her voice was scandalized ‘we can’t! It’s practically the middle of the day! We’re supposed to mix and mingle with the others. They’ll wonder where we’ve gone to—’
‘Screw ’em,’ he said, and smacked her on the bottom. ‘They can mix and mingle with each other for a bit. Let’s you and I go and make