Runner-Up Bride Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Bride vs. Bride

  Dear Reader

  Title Page

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  Copyright

  Bride vs. Bride

  Riley Page: Impulsive, spontaneous, adventurous. A free-lance photographer who travels the world. Marriage has never been high on her priority list, until she fears the man she loves is marrying someone else!

  Dannette MarquisDunne: Southern belle and former beauty queen; elegant and serene. She’s comfortable in any situation—including a ridiculous fiancee test! She’s certainly not about to break a fingernail worrying over a tomboy like Riley Page!

  Alexander Montgomery: Successful architect; sexy and handsome. It’s time to settle down, and Dannette is everything a man could ask for. So why is Riley looking more and more appealing?

  FIRST PRIZE: THE GROOM!

  Dear Reader,

  Several months ago we editors took a group of LOVE & LAUGHTER authors to dinner. While each and every one of these smart, funny ladies can talk and talk and talk, each and every one of us at the table had to give in to new Harlequin author Cheryl Anne Porter. She is a woman who is met with the line “Why don’t you do stand-up?” over and over again. By the end of the dinner, all we could do was sit with tears rolling down our cheeks, clutching our sides with laughter as Cheryl entertained with yet another rollicking anecdote. Cheryl also writes historical romances, but A Man in Demand is her first contemporary and another great addition to the Matchmaking Moms From Hell miniseries.

  Not to be outdone is Lisa Bingham, a relative newcomer to the Harlequin family but a huge sensation. Her Harlequin American Romance stories, including Nanny Jake and The Daddy Hunt, have been incredibly popular with readers. We’re very pleased to include her in the LOVE & LAUGHTER lineup with Runner-Up Bride.

  Next month brings a wonderful surprise: Let’s Celebrate, a special promotion running for three months. And there’s a really cool contest for you to enter. Look for all the details next month. Wishing you much love and laughter,

  Malle Vallik

  Associate Senior Editor

  Runner-Up Bride

  Lisa Bingham

  1

  RILEY PAGE shouldn’t have let herself into Alexander Montgomery’s apartment at all—let alone long after midnight. But even several sharp twinges of conscience hadn’t stopped her from slipping her own key into his lock and making herself at home. That’s what friends were for, she rationalized.

  She tugged at the hem of the masculine dress shirt she’d borrowed from a pile of freshly ironed clothing she’d chanced upon in the laundry room. The tails reached well past midthigh, but still she wished she’d been able to find a pair of sweatpants or some gym shorts. After all, if that blasted fiancee of Alex’s hadn’t left his apartment, Riley was about to meet her.

  Her lips formed a self-deprecating grimace that quickly slipped into a mischievous grin. Even she would have to admit that her behavior tonight was more brazen than usual. It didn’t matter how close a friend Alexander was. At the very least, she could have notified him of her arrival. She really shouldn’t have been in his loft apartment, dressed in one of his shirts, roaming around barefoot—and she wouldn’t have dreamed of doing such a thing if she hadn’t known, deep in her heart, that Alex would welcome her. He’d always welcomed her in the past when she’d popped in out of the blue for one of her long visits.

  But then again, she’d never caught him…entertaining.

  Riley approached the archway leading into the living room. She hadn’t planned to interrupt Alex and his fiancée—she hadn’t even known they were there entwined on the couch until she’d stumbled upon them a half hour ago.

  She’d awakened from a deep, exhausted nap in the guest bedroom to discover she was still dressed in her rumpled, dirty traveling clothes.

  Upon entering Alex’s loft, she’d tumbled into the bed and fallen dead asleep.

  But when the sound of voices had wakened her, she’d been unable to drift off again—too excited at the prospect of seeing Alex for the first time in eighteen months. Then there had been the loud rumbling coming from her stomach—so loud it had almost drowned out the voices in the distance. Her body had demanded food. Real food. That gnawing-in-her-belly sensation had been the result of two days’ worth of travel—hiking, Land Rover, Cessna and jumbo jet-all of them causing her poor little stomach to object to too many sandwiches, pretzels and mystery-meat airline meals.

  Making her way through his apartment, she’d’ planned to raid the kitchen cupboards until Alex could recommend some take-out. Her mouth had watered at the mere idea. Take-out. For six excruciating months in the remote regions of Africa, she had been photographing endangered animals for World Wildlife. In order to complete the assignment, she’d billeted with some of the local natives of the area, so she’d been without hot water, private bathing facilities and American cuisine far too long. She hadn’t known if she had the will to wait another moment.

  But once at the archway leading into the living room, Riley had discovered that Alex wasn’t alone. There had been a woman with him—the new fiancée he’d written about. Sighing, Riley had retreated back to the guest room, with a pit stop in the laundry room where she’d picked up Alex’s shirt, which was now riding up her thighs.

  But now, she thought as she retraced her steps, she really, really, wanted something to eat. Fiancée or no fiancée, she intended to attack those kitchen cupboards.

  Her gait slowed as she entered the living room. A wall of windows overlooked the Chicago skyline and the twinkling lights provided enough light for Riley to see that Alex and his fiancée were still on the Peruvian print couch that Riley had spent three weeks persuading her childhood friend to buy. The shopping expedition had occurred during her last visit, before he’d met…

  Dannette. That was her name.

  Her lips twitched in amusement and her arms folded across her chest. Scrutinizing the woman, Riley didn’t think she would need a formal introduction. She knew a great deal about Alex’s fiancée in a flash. She was everything that Riley had imagined she would be from the moment Riley had received the gilt-edged, handprinted, scented-of-roses invitation to the wedding.

  Dannette. Dannette MarquisDunne of Atlanta, Georgia.

  From her vantage point to the side of the sofa, Riley had a clear view of the couple. Riley would bet her last Twinkie that Dannette was a dyed-in-the-wool Southern belle and a former beauty queen. Her hair was dark, perfectly coiffed, her skin magnolia smooth. Her makeup was subtle but expertly applied. She wore a pale pink suit and pearls, perfectly matched hose and shoes the same color. She probably dabbled in charity work and socialized with the country-club set—her type always did, Riley thought.

  Alex, you’re growing soft in your old age. Did you really have to propose to a cliché?

  Riley supposed she should have anticipated the whole situation. Alex had spent most of his life fighting his way out of the Midwest. He’d amassed a fortune in pioneering prefab housing techniques. Since then, he’d moved to Chicago, bought this loft…

  And now he’d found himself a mate. A high-brow woman with high-brow tastes who would look pretty at his table and make his business associates feel at ease.

  Meow.

  Chiding herself for being bitchy, Riley shoved her thoughts away as quickly as they’d come. She wasn’t usually given to snap judgments, and she’d learned long ago that first impressions were usually deceiving—especially ones only two seconds long.

  Oh, come on. Look at her. Do you really think you’re
being too judgmental?

  Probably, but that didn’t stop Riley—no way!

  The moment Riley had heard about Dannette, she’d, instantly disliked the woman. Dannette was about to split up something wonderful. Riley and Alex had always been the dynamic duo. Now, this…this…female wanted to horn in on all the fun.

  Huffing to herself, Riley wondered if Alex truly loved Dannette, or if she were merely another of his acquisitions—a concession to the needs of his head rather than the urgings of his heart. She stifled a sigh. He hadn’t always been so concerned with appearances. She remembered him differently. As a wild teenager, he’d been hell-bent on breaking the rules, and as an innovative entrepreneur, he’d made his own rules.

  Riley planned to make sure that Alex wasn’t making a mistake. To make sure that this woman would be the sort of wife to make him happy for a lifetime. On the plane here, she’d developed a list of nine qualifications that any bride-to-be had to have if she intended to marry Alex.

  Her lips twitched in a wry smile. At least the first criterion had been met: Alex and Dannette were sexually compatible.

  Boy, were they sexually compatible.

  She supposed she should clear her throat—or make some other announcement of her presence…

  Nah. She was far too intrigued by Alex’s caresses, the evident strength of his arms, his singleness of purpose. Dannette’s head had arched back and her eyes had closed as Alex kissed her neck and began to unbutton her blouse. Dannette, on the other hand, was struggling with his tie, his jacket, his shirt. Little kittenish purrs of pleasure escaped her throat, and Riley wondered if Dannette was aware of the sounds she made as her nails raked through Alex’s hair.

  Oh, my.

  My, my, my.

  The room seemed to thrum with sexual energy. Riley knew she was behaving like a voyeur, but she couldn’t drag her gaze away. Inexplicably, as she watched Alex’s hands caress Dannette’s back, her own skin grew incredibly warm.

  Chill out, Riley told herself, then approached the couch.

  They remained blissfully oblivious to her presence.

  She coughed.

  No response.

  At a loss, Riley conceded that it might be best to adjourn to her own room. But the growling of her stomach reminded her that she’d come here for a purpose. If she went back to bed without eating first, she’d never get to sleep.

  Turning away from the couple, Riley went toward the kitchen. Opening the pantry door, she immediately forgot her misgivings, concentrating instead on the veritable smorgasbord of junk food in front of her. James Addington, Alex’s assistant and houseman, must still have been in Alex’s employ.

  Her mood lightened. At least there were some things that hadn’t changed since Riley’s last visit.

  Flipping on the light, she stood in the middle of the walk-in space, her mind racing at the choices. White bread, jam, cookies, tuna fish, SpaghettiOs and potato chips.

  James. Dear James. He’d known she was coming. He’d sensed it. There was no other explanation for the assortment of junk food. Alex didn’t eat it. He was too much of a health nut.

  Where to start…where to start…she thought, licking her lips at the sight of Twinkies and fruit pies and Ho-Ho’s. Peanut butter. Salsa. Cap’n Crunch.

  A reverent sigh slipped free.

  Cap’n Crunch. With crunch berries.

  Taking the box from its place beside the bags of bulgur and wheat germ, she snapped the light off and closed the door with a bump of her hip. She selected a Mama Bear-size bowl from the cupboard, heaped it to the top with cereal and found a spoon. Then she opened the refrigerator.

  James’s preparations were more subtle here. Alexander’s vegetables and bottles of mineral water reigned supreme. But in the back, she caught a peek of a brightly colored can of cola—caffeine, sugar and carbonation, her three favorite food groups. In the meat keeper she found four bottles of Yoo-Hoo.

  Chocolate.

  Manna from heaven.

  She would save that for last.

  Hefting a gallon of milk from the top shelf, she poured it over the cereal and put the milk back into the fridge.

  Then, bold as brass, she walked back into the living area, cradling her bowl, munching her crunch berries, sure that she’d made enough noise in the kitchen to attract attention.

  But as she drew close to the back of the couch, she realized how wrong her assumption had been. The lovebirds hadn’t righted themselves and put some space between them. In fact, they’d slunk lower into the cushions, their embrace growing more heated.

  The fact irritated her more than she would have thought possible. But then again, she’d just flown halfway around the world to visit her oldest friend and be best “man” at his wedding, and he hadn’t even come up for air. As far as she was concerned, it was about time he did.

  She cleared her throat.

  They didn’t notice.

  She uttered a soft humph.

  Nothing.

  Riley said very clearly, “Don’t let me interrupt you.”

  Dannette squealed and pushed Alex onto the floor, her hands automatically moving to her hair, her eyes blinking wide in surprise.

  Riley grinned, thoroughly delighted with the response. Bending to see around the arm of the couch, she waggled her fingers at Alex who lay flat on the carpet, gazing up at her with brilliant silver eyes. Unlike Dannette, he appeared far from astonished to find her there. In fact, he displayed such a bland acceptance that Riley was a trifle irritated. Drat the man. He should have been embarrassed to be caught in such a situation.

  But there was no remorse in his expression, no regret, no shame. Only a crooked smile of…

  Of what? There was something suspicious about his expression. Something far too…pleased.

  “Where did you come from?” Dannette gasped, abandoning her hair and clutching her white silk blouse together.

  “Africa.”

  After tiptoeing around Alex’s feet, she took his recently vacated place on the opposite end of the couch. A low “Oh” of pleasure escaped her lips as the alpaca upholstery enfolded her in its embrace, making her forget hard pallets and cramped jetliner seats.

  Dannette obviously didn’t know what to make of Riley’s response, and she gazed at Alex in confusion.

  His smile slid wider and he rose to his feet with a grace that Riley had never seen another human being employ before. The way he moved suggested a lion—no, a panther. A sleek, hungry panther. She shook her head. The cliché didn’t do him justice.

  “Hello, Alex,” Riley said happily, liking the way he towered over her, his hands on his hips, his bright eyes assessing her with a familiar intensity.

  “Hello, brat.” His voice was just as she remembered. Low, gravelly, with a hint of something dangerous.

  He raked his fingers through his hair, managing to give it some semblance of order. Wrenching at his tie, he threw it onto the back of the couch, still looking at her.

  “You let yourself in.”

  There was no real chiding in his tone, but she found herself on the defensive, nonetheless. “You gave me a key, remember?”

  “Yes. And I also remember you promised to give it back after your last visit.”

  She shrugged. “I have a horrible memory for details.”

  “Sure you do,” he drawled, quite unconvinced. But he wasn’t angry. His gaze still sparkled with amusement.

  Riley would have said something more, but at that point Dannette clutched Alex’s wrist and tugged him close.

  Unaffected by the subtle hint for privacy, Riley leaned nearer, as well.

  “That is Riley Page?” Dannette whispered.

  “In the flesh,” Riley said before Alex had a chance to respond.

  “Riley,” Alex growled in warning.

  She grinned at them both, crossing her legs. The action brought Dannette’s attention to the length of leg showing beneath the hem of her shirt. Or rather, Alex’s shirt.

  “But you told me this…Ri
ley person was going to be your best man,” Dannette said, still obviously nonplussed, even though she was doing her best to control her reactions.

  Yep, she’s been a beauty queen, Riley decided. She could just see this woman standing in a soundproof booth promising to feed the hungry children of the world.

  “She is my best man,” Alex confirmed, his voice low and resonant, with the slightest touch of steel.

  Dannette tried a different tack. “But she’s a woman,” she said. “You never told me Riley was a woman.”

  Riley relaxed into the couch, lifting a big spoonful of cereal to her mouth and crunching it with enjoyment.

  “Of course I did,” Alex stated.

  There it was, that maddening sense of self-assurance that drove most women nuts. Alex had always had a stubborn streak, and when his mind was set on something, dynamite couldn’t blast it loose.

  “No. No you didn’t.”

  Riley’s brows rose. Dannette had actually disagreed with the man. She was brave. Very brave.

  “I’m sure I did.”

  “No. You didn’t. You told me Riley was an old friend. A childhood buddy.”

  “That’s right.”

  Dannette was looking positively anxious now. “You never said she was a woman.”

  As she gazed back and forth between Dannette and Alex, Riley continued to munch away, thoroughly entertained by the scene going on in front of her. In fact it was more entertaining than the in-flight movie she’d seen while journeying home.

  Alex sighed. “If I didn’t tell you Riley was a woman, it was an honest oversight.”

  “Thanks a lot,” Riley muttered, then snapped her mouth shut when Alex pierced her with his best keepout-of-this stare.

  Dannette appeared somewhat mollified—but only a little.

  “Well, I suppose it’s all right, then.”

  The response was so grudging that Riley would have rolled her eyes if Alex hadn’t been watching her so intently. Instead she simply ladled more cereal into her mouth.

  Dannette tugged on his hand again, forcing him to hover close.

  “Alex, where’s she going to stay? Do you want me to arrange a hotel room?”