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  “They were very well behaved,” Crista said, trying to keep a straight face. “Even the minister said so.”

  Grant gave up trying not to smile. His arms closed tightly around his wife and he gave her a long, deep kiss.

  “I adore you,” he murmured against her lips.

  He felt her mouth curve into a smile. “I hope our son looks just like his daddy,” she said.

  “What an amazing coincidence. I was just thinking how nice it would be if our daughter looks like her mommy.”

  Cnsta leaned back in his arms, her smile sweetly mysterious. “Grant? What if we both could have our wish?”

  “Okay, love. A girl this time, a boy next time”

  “How about both this time?”

  Grant’s brow furrowed. “Both? But how…?” His eyes widened. “Oh my lord, Crista! Do you mean…?”

  “We’re having twins,” she said with a happy laugh. “A boy and a girl. The doctor told me yesterday.”

  “Twins?” Grant said dumbly. “Twins?”

  “Uh-huh. Two babies, darling. Two cribs. Two carriages. Two midnight feedings…”

  “What wonderful news!” Grant’s face was radiant with joy. “Oh, what a day this is going to be! Kyra’s wedding to celebrate, and now this.”

  Crista looped her arms around his neck. “You know,” she said softly, “we really could start celebrating right now. All by ourselves.”

  Grant read the sweet message in her flushed cheeks and parted lips. The thought of making love to her made his body tighten in anticipation, but he hesitated. Crista, feeling that hesitation and suspecting the reason for it, sighed and rolled her eyes.

  “I’m not made of glass, Grant.”

  “I know. But—” Her hand moved on him and he caught his breath. “Are you certain?”

  She gave a deep, happy laugh. “Absolutely. I’m healthy. And sexy. So if you really want to keep me happy…”

  Laughing, Grant swept his wife into his arms. “Wicked woman,” he whispered. And, as he lowered her gently to the bed and came down beside her, he knew he was the luckiest, happiest man in the world.

  In the room across the hall, Zach Landon dropped a gentle kiss on his sleeping wife’s tousled blond hair. Then he carefully pushed back the blankets, rose from the bed, and tiptoed into the bathroom.

  It would be time to waken her soon, he thought as he stepped into the shower, but for now he wanted Eve to get as much rest as she could manage.

  She wasn’t feeling well, hadn’t been for the past couple of weeks. And it worried the hell out of him.

  Zach’s gut knotted. To think of anything happening to Eve…the thought terrified him. She was his love. His life. She was everything he’d ever wanted and more than he’d dreamed of, and there wasn’t a moment of the day that he didn’t find himself thinking what a miracle it was that she loved him.

  They’d flown in late last night from the Coast. Too late, probably, but there’d been a last-minute meeting with the production crew of Triad’s next film.

  Zach turned his face up to the spray and frowned. He should have put his foot down, should have said, Eve, I don’t want you attending this meeting, dammit, not when you’re feeling under the weather.

  Not that it would have done him any good, he thought with a rueful smile. His wife was the most opinionated broad he’d ever known. You didn’t “tell” her what to do, not even if you were her husband…But that was exactly what he was going to do, starting today, and she could scream bloody murder if she didn’t like it!

  He reached out, shut off the water, and stepped out of the shower.

  There’d been some kind of bug making the rounds in L.A., one of those forty-eight-hour things that hit hard and made you feel rotten. He’d come down with it himself and spent the best part of a couple of days in groaning misery before it passed. Eve had come down with it next—but she couldn’t seem to shake it. He’d begged her to see a doctor, but she’d pooh-poohed the idea.

  “Really, sweetheart,” she’d insisted, “I’m not sick. It’s just this virus. It’ll go away. You’ll see.”

  Well, it hadn’t gone away. Although it was weird—she really didn’t seem ill, not as the day wore on. Still, there had to be something wrong when the woman you loved began each morning feeling nauseous and miserable and when you had to stand around feeling useless because you couldn’t do a damned thing to help her. It was hell, awakening alone, knowing your wife was in the bathroom, being sick ..

  Zach froze.

  In the bathroom? Being sick? Every morning?

  His heart took a leap, knocked against his ribs. The bath towel fell from his suddenly nerveless fingers.

  “Pregnant,” he whispered. He fumbled the door open, raced across the room, stumbled to his knees beside the bed.

  Eve was awake, sitting up against the pillows. Her face was pale but she was smiling.

  “There you are,” she said. “I missed you.”

  Zach’s eyes swept over her beautiful face. “Eve?” He swallowed hard, reached for her hand, clasped it tightly in his. “Eve, sweetheart—are you all right?”

  She nodded carefully. “I—I think I am, actually.”

  “No nausea?”

  “No. It seems to be gone.”

  “You’re not going to be sick?”

  Eve smiled hesitantly. “I don’t think so.”

  Zach swallowed hard. “Oh.” He nodded, forced a smile to his lips. What a jerk he was! His wife had been sick for a couple of weeks and it had taken him that long to think that maybe—just maybe—it was morning sickness. And by the time he’d figured that it might be, it turned out it wasn’t!

  He didn’t know which he felt more like doinglaughing or crying.

  Eve leaned toward him and gently pushed the hair back from his forehead.

  “You don’t look very happy,” she said softly.

  “Of course I’m happy,” he said quickly. His hand tightened on hers. “It killed me to know you were hurting, sweetheart. It’s just that—that…”

  “That what?”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Never mind.”

  “Come on. Tell me what you were going to say.”

  Zach cleared his throat. “Well, I know how dumb this sounds, darling, but—but it just occurred to me that—

  I know it’s ridiculous, but I found myself thinking that maybe the reason you felt lousy lately was because—because you were pregnant.”

  A smile as old as time curved across Eve’s lips. “I am.”

  “I told you it was silly, but—” Zach stared at her. “What did you say?”

  “I said, we’re having a baby.” Eve laughed softly at the look on her husband’s face. “Isn’t it incredible?”

  “A baby,” he whispered. “A baby? You and me?” With a cry of happiness, Zach folded Eve in his arms. “Oh, my love! Are you sure?”

  She nodded, her face buried in his shoulder. “Positive. This time next year, you’ll be a father.”

  A father. Him, a father. Zach’s throat constricted. He wanted to tell his beautiful wife how happy he was, how happy her love had made him, but he didn’t trust himself to speak. Instead, he drew back, took her face in his hands, and gave her a long, sweet kiss.

  “I adore you,” he breathed against her lips.

  Eve laughed, though her eyes were shiny with tears of joy.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?”

  “Wonderful,” he said softly, and as he kissed her again, he thought that what was really wonderful was that he was the luckiest, happiest man in the entire world.

  At noon, when the sun was a golden globe in an incredibly blue sky, a string quartet struck up the strains of “The Wedding March” and Kyra Landon appeared on the terrace overlooking the gardens, beautiful and glowing in a delicate gown of ivory lace. It had wristlength sleeves, a long, full skirt and a sweeping train inset with tiny ivory satin roses. The neckline was just low enough to be the perfect backdrop for the diamond-and-platinum necklace Antonio had
given his bride as a wedding gift.

  The silver fire of the necklace, he said, matched the color of her eyes.

  Antonio, handsome and imposing in black tie, stood waiting for her at an altar bedecked with overflowing baskets of white and pink tulips. The sight of him stole Kyra’s breath away. His dark hair was brushed back from his chiseled face, and his eyes, shining with love, were more blue than the spring sky.

  Surrounded by her tall, handsome brothers, Kyra came down the steps and moved slowly along a path strewn with blush pink rose petals. When they reached the altar, Cade, Zach and Grant each kissed the little sister they so cherished and whispered their farewells.

  Their wives, who had preceded Kyra down the aisle in gowns of palest pink, lavender and blue, tried not to cry as they took their husbands’ arms.

  But how could you not get misty-eyed as the beautiful bride and her handsome groom exchanged their vows? How could you not weep at the very end, when the groom raised the bride’s veil to kiss her and the bride smiled into his eyes?

  “I love you with all my heart, Tonio,” Kyra whispered. “And I will spend my life making you happy.”

  “Kyra, mia querida,” Antonio said as he took her face between his hands, “you could not make me any happier than I am at this moment. You are mine and I am yours, forever.”

  Kyra kissed her husband and then she drew back in his arms. She was the luckiest, happiest woman in all the world, she thought, and suddenly her throat tightened.

  If only Father were here…

  She looked at her brothers, and in that instant, she knew that what she saw in their eyes was what was in her own heart.

  Months ago, it had seemed as if Charles Landon had left a legacy of anger and sorrow—but the power of love had changed that.

  The Landon Legacy had turned out to be one of happiness and laughter, the greatest gifts a father could bestow on his children.

  Maybe, just maybe, there was one last guest at the Landon wedding on this wonderful day.

  For all Cade and Grant, Zach and Kyra knew, their father might be looking on, seeing the joy on the faces of his sons and his daughter, and smiling

  eISBN 978-14592-7649-9

  SPRING BRIDE

  First North American Publication 1996.

  Copyright © 1996 by Sandra Myles.

  All rights reserved Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part In any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters In this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone beanng the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

  ® and TM are trademarks of the publisher Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries

  Printed in U.S.A.

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Dear Reader

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Epilogue

  Copyright