Eight months later
AS SHE STOOD outside the double doors to the entrance of Ashbrooke’s ballroom Aideen’s fingers trembled where she held on to her dad’s arm.
Behind her, her cousin and bridesmaid Kate fussed with the train of her dress.
To one side of the hallway a huge fir tree from the estate was bedecked in twinkling white Christmas lights. Through the windows beyond, fat flakes of snow fluttered down to join the heavy carpet of snow that already covered the estate.
Tomorrow—Christmas Day—she would wake up beside her husband. Giddy excitement raced through her at the thought, and she smiled quietly to herself.
She ran a hand over the delicate lace of her dress, her trained eye once again inspecting it. But there was no need. It was perfect.
She had spent weeks deciding on the design, and it had been handcrafted by a group of lacemakers who lived locally. It was a traditional Bandon Lace design, but with personal touches added—the shields that represented valour and honour on the Fitzsimon family crest, the three griffins of the Ryan crest representing courage and bravery. A seashell to represent Ashbrooke House. The sailing boat from the Parisian coat of arms. Symbols from all the places where she had fallen deeper and deeper in love with Patrick.
And on her feet were the ivory ankle-strap sandals Mustard and Mayo had bought her all those months ago.
With a nod, she signalled to her dad that she was ready.
The doors opened and once again she was dazzled by the ornate heavy gilt mirrored walls, the cherub-filled frescoed ceiling of the ballroom, and her heart leapt at its spectacular beauty.
Her family and friends beamed back at her and her already bursting heart exploded with joy. Her mum openly cried, while her two brothers tried to pretend they weren’t.
Orla, holding baby Evie in her arms, looked from Aideen to Patrick with love and pride.
Patrick’s best man, Frédéric Forbin, whispered something to him and he nodded in response.
When was he going to turn to her?
The dogs sat patiently at his feet, both wearing pale pink bows to match the bridal party. Behind him stood his large group of friends, including Lord Balfe, all of whom had travelled from around the world to be here. Friends who were once again part of his life.
And then he turned to her.
She wanted to run to him but forced herself to take the slow bridal steps. His hair was shorn once again, highlighting the sharp masculine lines of his face, the brilliant blue of his eyes.
Step by step she moved closer to her best friend. To the man who made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
With him, she was complete.
Before him, she’d felt as though she was a feather—floating through the air, happy, but never quite belonging, never quite understanding.
And now, because of him, she understood. That this life was about love. Giving love. But also receiving it. That was all that really mattered.
And tonight, at the stroke of midnight, she would give him his Christmas present: the news that she was six weeks pregnant.
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Keep reading for an excerpt from SAVED BY THE CEO by Barbara Wallace.