Part 13 (2/2)

The minister nodded as if he'd heard her and continued, unfazed. Clearly he had seen worse disruptions than this one in his time. Randy realized. She shuddered with relief. If she could just hang on a little longer, it would all be over. Once they were married, she would be fine. It was the ceremony that was making her nervous, all the pomp and circ.u.mstance.

Hugh's voice startled her until she realized he was repeating a pa.s.sage they'd picked out especially for this ceremony. She forced herself to smile as he said his lines and then she repeated her own lines, words she'd rehea.r.s.ed by rote. Never mind that her heart felt frozen solid, that her voice sounded distant and hollow. She would be fine once this was over.

”Miranda?” the minister asked her at last. ”Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, to ... ”

Randy began to nod before he'd even finished. Yes, she did, she did. But before she had a chance to say it aloud, the chapel doors swung open and the sound exploded like a bomb in her head.

She whirled, her heart surging. ”Geoff!”

In confusion, she watched a mother and her small child slip into a pew at the back and smile sheepishly.

Late arrivals. Randy realized, stunned. She'd been expecting to see a beautiful, angry man in fatigues, his golden hair ablaze as he strode up the aisle toward her. Now the entire church was gaping at her; even the religious figures suspended in the stained gla.s.s windows seemed to be gasping in surprise.

”Miranda?”

Hugh's horrified voice dragged at her, and the guests' eyes, round with startlement, swam in her head. What had just happened? Had she shrieked his name aloud? Had she cried out Geoff Dias's name?

Hugh reached for her, but she fended off his hands. Her mind was spinning, pinwheeling in a desperate need to seize on something that made sense, something that explained what was happening.

”Miranda, for G.o.d's sake!”

”I'm sorry,” she blurted, the words searing her throat. ”Something's wrong, terribly wrong.” She turned to Hugh, and tears set fire to her eyelids, blurring his angry, reddening features. ”Forgive me, Hugh, please forgive me. I'm not feeling well.”

”What is it?” he demanded. ”Miranda, what's wrong with you?”

She began to weep softly, anguish rising inside her. What was wrong with her? She had no good reason, no rational explanation for what she was doing. It felt as if she were giving up everything she'd worked for, throwing it all away. But she couldn't do anything else. She couldn't go through with it. ”I can't do this,” she told him. ”I'm sorry.”

”Can't do what?”

”Marry ... you.”

”Have you gone crazy?” he hissed.

”Yes, I think so,” she said, her voice catching on a sob. ”I really think I have gone crazy.”

He tried to grab her as she stumbled backward, but she twisted away from him and hurried blindly down the steps and up the aisle toward the chapel doors. She felt as if the walls were closing in on her, as if the roof were coming down on her head, and she had a terrible, desperate need to be outside in the daylight, to be free.

Sunlight blinded her as she burst out of the church.

Fearful that Hugh and the others might follow her, she slipped into a narrow alleyway that she hoped would take her to the parking lot at the back of the church. And then she remembered that she'd come with Barb. She had no car!

Frantic, she turned into an adjoining alley, having no idea where it would lead her or what she intended to do. Her ankles wobbled as she tried to hold up her skirts and negotiate rocks and the crumbling asphalt in high heels, but she had to get away, as far away as possible. A cl.u.s.ter of little girls playing with dolls looked up at her as she lurched past them in her wedding gown. ”She's beautiful,” one of them whispered. ”Just like my Barbie.”

Randy began to cry all over again.

The alley opened onto a side street. Stopping to catch her breath, she lifted her veil and flung it back over her headpiece. She wiped at her eyes, undoubtedly smearing her makeup into a hopeless mess. But before she could get the flow of tears stemmed, she heard a frighteningly familiar sound-the rolling thunder of a big motorcycle.

”On, no,” she moaned, refusing to look up for a moment.

The thunder came to a stop across the street from her, and when she finally brought her head up, she saw exactly what she'd been dreading. Geoff Dias was standing there, leaning against his parked Harley and gazing at her intently, his arms casually folded. ”I guess I missed the wedding,” he observed.

”That makes two of us.” Randy gathered up her skirts and turned around, heading back down the alley. She was in no shape to deal with him now! How had he found her, anyway? He must have been following her, lying in wait. After the way they'd parted company in Rio, it wouldn't have surprised her if he'd come to gloat over her misfortune.

She heard the roar of the Harley's engine behind her as she walked down the alley. The point was he had found her, and he wasn't the type who was discouraged easily.

He rolled up alongside her on the bike, d.o.g.g.i.ng her unsteady footsteps. ”Why the tears?” he asked, throttling the engine down.

”Because I just walked out of my own wedding, that's why! There! Are you happy? I didn't marry Mr. Fortune Five Hundred.”

”As a matter of fact, I am happy. Why don't you get on the bike, Randy? We need to talk.”

”No!”

”I'm not going anywhere until we do.”

As they continued down the alley, she in a tearstained wedding gown, he on a ma.s.sive motorcycle, she was aware of how similar this situation was to the first time they met. She was reasonably sure he'd noticed it too.

”Are you going to stop and talk?” he pressed.

Randy hushed him, realizing they were nearing the circle of little girls, all of whom were watching them, wide-eyed with interest.

”Are you going to marry him, lady?” one of them asked, gazing up at Geoff with wonder in her eyes. Randy knew just how the child felt, but she wasn't about to admit it.

”No,” Randy a.s.sured her, ”I most certainly am not.”

A redheaded moppet with a squeaky voice jumped up and offered her doll, outfitted in a wedding dress. ”If she doesn't want to marry you, mister, my Dream Bride Barbie will!”

”Well, thank you, sweetheart,” Geoff said. ”That's real tempting, but”-he indicated Randy with an offhand grin-”this one's got my heart.”

”Too bad for you,” the redhead commiserated. ”She looks kinda mean.”

Geoff exhaled a gust of laughter. ”Treat me right,” he told Randy under his breath. ”You have a compet.i.tor for my affections.”

Randy stared at him in shock, missing the humor altogether. What was that thing he'd said about having his heart?

He revved the bike's engine until it roared, then spun around in front of her. ”Get on the bike. Randy,” he said softly.

”No, thank you.”

”Get on the bike.”

Randy glanced at the little girls, aware of their rapt antic.i.p.ation. Their hushed excitement echoed her own, she realized. Why was her heart pounding? And why did this feel like one of the single most frightening moments of her life? She could have been drinking champagne at a fabulous reception by now!

With the craziest feeling that she didn't want to disappoint the redheaded moppet with the bride doll. Randy gathered up her skirts and got on the bike behind Geoff. The girls gasped in concert, and she could hear their squeals above the roar of the engine as the Harley sped off.

”Where are we going?” she called out, taffeta bunched up to her chin as she clung to Geoff's denim jacket.

<script>