One Night with Prince Charming (Aristocratic Grooms 2)

Hawk glanced at her. At the beginning of the ceremony, he’d seen the bride place her flowers on a small pedestal. The pooch-cum-bridal attendant had somehow gotten hold of them.

Hawk couldn’t remember the name of Victoria’s canine. Finola? Feefee? In any case, Trouble seemed appropriate at the moment.

He watched as the bride knelt down, and then her dog sprinted away, bouquet in mouth.

So much for asking if anyone had any objections to this marriage…

“I have to do something,” Pia muttered as she started to rise.

Hawk wasn’t sure if Pia was talking to herself or to him, and if it mattered. He rose, too, and laid a staying hand on Pia’s wrist. “Forget it. In those heels, you’ll never catch—”

“Finola.”

“Full of trouble.”

Hawk moved forward as the dog eluded a well-intentioned guest.

The wedding had truly been disrupted now. Everyone had turned to watch the wily four-legged perpetrator of chaos.

The dog headed toward the back of the gathering, as if sensing that with another few passes, she’d be home free, dashing away from the assembled guests.

Hawk shoved back his chair as he moved into the aisle. He knew he had one shot at catching Victoria’s renegade pooch.

He tensed and then dove forward as the furry and furious fuzzball tried to whiz by.

In mid-lunge, he heard gasps, and someone called out a bit of encouragement. And in the next moment, he’d caught the excited Finola with his outstretched arms before landing hard on the ground.

The dog relinquished the bouquet as she was tackled and started yapping again.

A few guests began clapping, and a man called out, “Well done.”

Hawk held on firmly to the squirming animal as he straightened and then stood upright. He held Finola away from him.

Victoria rushed forward. “Here, Finola.”

Pia snatched the battered bouquet, her expression one of disbelief mixed with dismay.

Hawk watched her, and then murmured, “Just remember, bad luck comes in threes.”

She looked up at him, eyes wide. “Please tell me this is number three.”

Before he could reassure Pia, Victoria reached to take Finola from him and then snuggled the dog close.

The bride started to laugh and some of the guests joined in. Others broke out into smiles.

Hawk watched Pia relax and smile herself. He could practically read her mind. If the bride and everyone else could see the humor in the situation, then everything was going to be okay.

“Who’s been the naughty pooch, hmm?” Victoria said.

Hawk resisted rolling his eyes. Perhaps he did have a preference for women who owned cats rather than dogs.

With a wave of the arm, he acknowledged the scattered praise from the wedding guests and righted his fallen chair.

Victoria looked at him. “Thank you so much, Hawk. You saved the day.”

Hawk glanced at Pia, a smile pulling at his lips. “Not at all. I’m glad I was able to be of service.”

Pia lifted her eyebrows.