Always A Bridesmaid (Left At the Altar) Read Free Page A

statement was, 'Get a different dress.'"
    Hearing his fiancée's name instantly wiped the smile from his face. "She shouldn't have made you wear a dress you felt so uncomfortable in. Don't be so hard on yourself, Daphne."
    Her heart fell. "Actually, it's Daniella, Daniella DiPietro. Everyone calls me Dani." She knew this was probably the longest conversation they'd had in their acquaintance, but it still hurt that he didn't remember her name.
    He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Of course I know your name. I don't know what's the matter with me. I'm sorry."
    "Don't be. You've had a hell of a day. Not as bad as mine of course, but still lousy. It's not a big deal."
    "It's a big deal to me. I'm really sorry."
    Dani brushed aside his apology with a wave of her hand, trying not to let her disappointment show. She wasn't the kind of woman men remembered. Men remembered women like Chantal, beautiful, tall, slim blondes, with cute little turned up noses. Not short, dark, pudgy women with prominent Italian beaks.
    "I should go. Your mother and Camp are waiting for me in the limo. Would you like a ride home with us?"
    Zach shook his head. "Thanks, but I think I want to be alone for a while longer. Please tell my mom I'm fine."
    "I will," she said. "Can I ask you to do one more favor for me? I promised your mother I'd bring her purse to her, and we both know what'll happen if try to crawl under there again." She pointed to the little beaded bag on the floor beneath the pew.
    "Of course." He bent to retrieve it, giving her a close-up and personal view of his gorgeous, tight butt. She swallowed and looked away.
    Zach straightened and handed her the bag. "There you go."
    "Thank you. How do I get the jacket back to you?"
    "Just drop it off at the rental place." He told her the address.
    "Okay, I'll do that. Well, I have to go home now and burn this dress. Goodbye Zach."
    "Goodbye, Daniella."
    It surprised her that he called by her full given name. She blinked and looked into his face. The desolation she saw felt like a punch in the gut. He'd obviously loved Chantal and she'd hurt him deeply. Without thinking, she laid her hand on his arm.
    "It's going to be all right."
    He placed his hand over hers. Closing his eyes for a brief moment, he took a deep breath. "I know. I just..."
    Wanting nothing more than to comfort, she wrapped her arms around his waist in a hug. He held her tightly, pulling her against him and burying his face in her neck. Dani inhaled the intoxicating scent of spicy aftershave laced with underlying notes of warm, clean male. How could Chantal treat a wonderful man like Zach this way?
    She gently pulled away, keeping him at arm's length. "You're going to get past this, Zach."
    "It doesn't feel like it right now."
    "I know, but someday, when you're old and grey, you'll be sitting on the front porch with your wonderful wife of fifty years, and you'll say 'Thank Heaven Chantal cheated on me or I never would have met you.'"
    He made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Fifty years, eh?"
    "Trust me."
    Some lucky girl would snap Zach up in a minute, and if she was smart, she'd shower him with the love and consideration he deserved.
    Some lucky girl, but not me.
    Reluctantly, she took a step back. He squeezed her fingers before letting her go. With her heart pounding in her chest, and regret nipping at her heels, she hurried from the church.
    Before she did something stupid, like kiss the jilted groom.
----

Chapter Two
One Year Later
    Dani paid the taxi driver, grabbed her suitcase, and turned to face the imposing three-story brick house where she was to stay for the weekend. How rich are these people? She'd known since university that Fiona came from a wealthy family, but this house--correction--this mansion, with its opulent exterior and its massive size, told the viewer in no uncertain terms that its owner was rich. Really rich. Ritchie Rich rich.
    "Damn." She checked the address she'd scribbled on a scrap of