HER EVERY FANTASY

She was vividly, vibrantly, and undeniably stunning… so beautiful hecouldn’t tear his gaze away.

Her hair was piled on top of her head and he remembered her holding it there like that after they’d been swimming, inadvertently showing offthe long graceful curve of her neck which he’d kissed many times.

She had a flower in her hair again, dark red this time, not pink. The same dark red as the dress she was wearing, a strapless dress that bared her shoulders and arms, the hollow at the base of her neck, and the slight swell of flesh that hinted at the lush fullness of her breasts.

His mouth went dry, remembering the tight texture of her nipples, the salty taste of them in the sea. His hands itched to span her provocatively small waist, to run them over the voluptuous curve of her hips, down the long silky line of her thighs. He could feel himself stirring, the desire she evoked zinging through his bloodstream, pumping up an urgent need to have her again.

‘Collins!’ The call of his name snapped the dangerous thrall. It came from Favour, stepping out of her car in a cloud of white. ‘You came!’ she cried in surprised delight. ‘Does Leonard know?’

He nodded. He waved a salute to her. It felt as though he was reacting in slow motion. Words finally came. ‘See you in the church.’

He didn’t risk another look at Jasmine. His legs took him where he had to go. A church was supposed to be a safe haven. It felt like a trap but there was no escape from it. He was here for Leonard.

Jasmine gave herself a mental shake. Collins Templeton was here. It hadn’t been a hallucination. Favour had seen him, too. Spoken to him.

And he’d answered. He’d come for the wedding, was in the church right now, waiting for it to begin.

The way he’d looked at her… her whole body was still tingling. Despite the most part of a year having passed since their one night together, it had felt as though time had stood still and the intimate connection was just as immediate and powerful as it had been then. No difference at all. And her heart was skittering all over the place at the thought of having another night with him.

But he wasn’t her partner tonight.

She had to be with… what was his name? Khalid.

Not all the time, she thought fiercely.

Her mind trembled at the enormity of what she was thinking and feeling. He hadn’t made any contact with her. He’d come to the wedding out of friendship with Leonard. Yet given the chance, she would choose to be with Collins Templeton.

All night.

_______

Jasmine ached from the tension of waiting for Collins to make some move on her. She couldn’t bring herself to accept that he wasn’t going to, yet how else could she explain the distance he had kept from her.

He was with his mother, she kept telling herself, but surely no mother expected her adult son to give her his exclusive attention.

Besides, it hadn’t been entirely exclusive. After the wedding ceremony, there’d been a photo session outside the church. Collins had emerged from the milling guests, headed straight for the just married couple, shook Leonard’s hand, kissed the bride, a dazzling smile accompanying his congratulations, but the smile hadn’t been turned on Jasmine. He hadn’t even looked at her.

With her heart turning over with disappointment, she’d watched him go to Leonard’s parents and chat to them, then move to the side of a very stylish middle-aged woman whom she now knew to be his mother, though she didn’t look at all like Collins with her flyaway auburn hair, fair skin and green eyes.

Nevertheless, Leonard had identified her as such, and jasmine had decided it was fair enough for Collins to put his mother first, particularly since her own role as chief bridesmaid had kept her busy; seeing that Favour was posed perfectly for the photographs, then helping her into the car with Leonard, ensuring the billowing layers of tulle didn’t get caught on anything. Collins, she had then argued to herself, was probably waiting until she had some time to herself.

There’d been another much longer session with the photographer in the lovely garden setting at Wisteria House where the reception had been booked. The two-storeyed Colonial home had wonderful verandas, their supporting columns skirted by ornate white lace ironwork. Guests had been invited onto the upper veranda to watch all the formal posing in the garden while they were served cocktails and hors d’oeuvres.

Several times Jasmine had felt Collins gaze burning into her, but when she’d glanced up at the on-looking crowd, his attention was not focused on her at all.

Leonard had called him down, insisting he wanted a shot of Collins with himself and Favour. He’d obliged his old friend but laughingly declined posing for a foursome with Jasmine.

‘Not my place,’ he’d excused. ‘Get the best man for that shot.’ And he was gone again, leaving Jasmine with the feeling he was avoiding any contact with her.

Yet why would that be so?

She hadn’t chased him, hadn’t made a nuisance of herself. At the end of the night they’d shared, she hadn’t tried to cling on or press for some further involvement with him. Did he fear she would now? Make some kind of scene he’d hate? Or… her stomach cramped at the thought… had he met some other woman he wanted to keep? It would explain why he’d refused to be linked to her in a photograph.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

The torment of not knowing what he was thinking plagued her all through the reception dinner. Despite his stopping by the bridal table a couple of times to chat to Leonard, Collins didn’t once switch his attention toher.

The only evidence that he hadn’t completely forgotten their blind date and its intimate aftermath was the one long sizzling look outside the church, and that certainly wasn’t being repeated.

Jasmine doggedly ate what was put in front of her, assured Favour the food was great without knowing whether it was or not, forced adequate responses to the general chat at the bridal table, smiled when a smile was expected.

She sat through the speeches without hearing a word, though her gaze remained fixed on each speaker as though she was listening avidly. But She was dying inside, drowning in a sea of painful confusion and frustration. She could only hope no one noticed. It was her sister’s wedding.