The Bride Wore A Forty-Four Read Online Free Page A

tormented whisper,
"God, no."
    "Oh, she hates it," Nadine moaned. "I was
afraid of this. I can fix, don't worry—"
    "No." Kira opened her eyes, but she couldn't
get the image of those other eyes to leave her alone. They were
Marshall's eyes. And they'd been way more intense than she had ever
seen them. She focused again on her reflection in the mirror. And
then she nodded. "I love it, Nadine. I love it. Don't change a
thing."

Chapter 4
     
    Kira stood in her bedroom, gazing out the
window to the back lawn, and garden sprawling below. The flashes
had kept coming. All morning. Frustrating bits, scraps of a mosaic,
with more pieces missing than found. She saw bodies entwined. Hers
and Marshall's. She saw their lips mating. She saw laughter and
smiles and dark, intense looks filled with hidden meaning passing
between them. And she felt a heat in her blood that she didn't
remember feeling ever before. Or maybe it was a memory.
    Now, on the back lawn, the chairs were set
up. The string quartet was warming up, and people were arriving,
mingling, talking. All of them dressed in black or white or both,
as per her mother's instructions. Peter was there, already dressed
in his tux, talking with men she didn't really know. His best man,
his groomsmen. She'd met them, of course. Maybe she'd known them
before. She hadn't cared enough to ask. She didn't care now.
    Marshall was down there. He wore a tux as
well as a headset and moved around the lawn. Her heart sped up as
she watched him. Brisk, efficient, watchful. He had a way of moving
that mesmerized her. It was powerful and yet graceful. Why hadn't
she noticed before? Or had she?
    Not like this she hadn't. Hell, she had
shivers dancing up and down her nape and a shaky unsteady hitch in
her breathing. And she didn't need a fully functioning memory to
recognize animal attraction for what it was. She wanted Marshall
Waters.
    And she was pretty sure she'd had him. What
would her mother think if she knew that her daughter was a slut?
That she'd been cheating on her own fiancé with a wedding planner?
God, what a giant mess this was. Why the hell had Marshall let her
mother hire him? He wasn't the one without a memory.
    There was a tap on her bedroom door. She
turned, frowning. It wasn't her mother, she was down there milling
around in the crowd, playing the perfect hostess. Hell, she wasn't
playing it she was it.
    "It's Anita," a woman called.
    Kira opened the door, not bothering to hide
the two outfits hanging side by side from a pair of hooks in the
wall. Not from Anita. Anita wouldn't rat her out
    "They'll be ready for you soon," Anita said,
then she blinked, looking Kira up and down. "You're not
dressed."
    ''Haven't quite decided what I'm going to
wear," Kira said. She glanced toward the hooks on the wall.
    Anita followed her gaze and sucked in her
breath.
    Kira studied the beautiful bridal gown. It
was more Cinderella than Midsummer Night's Dream, but
that was okay. It didn't matter. And if it did, she'd had her
payback when her mother had seen her hair. Kira thought the woman
was going to pass out
    Beside it arranged on another set of hangers,
were a pair of black leather pants, a ribbed black tank top, and a
leather jacket On the next hook there were holsters and guns.
    "Did you know about all this, Anita?"
    "All what Kira? What's going on?" Anita
narrowed her eyes and studied her.
    "I don't know. I decided to go through those
trunks last night. Anita, what was I doing with all these
weapons?"
    "Are you starting to get your memory back? Is
that what this is?"
    "Maybe. A little. Bits and pieces. But I
don't know what it means." She turned and speared Anita with her
eyes. "Has there been—have I been—involved with anyone? Besides
Peter?"
    Anita's shock turned to a look of stark
disapproval. "You're getting cold feet, aren't you? You're thinking
about calling off the wedding."
    Lowering her head, she nodded. "Yeah. I
am."
    "You can't do that. Good God, you can't.
Just...oh, hell. Wait