Heather Macallister - Undressed

“Witty, romantic, sexy and fun.”

—New York Times bestselling author Christina Dodd

“Curling up with a Heather MacAllister romance is one of my favorite indulgences.”

—New York Times bestselling author Debbie Macomber

“A one-sitting read for me. I got so caught up in this story that I really didn’t want it to end.”

—The Best Reviews on Male Call

“The plot was inspired, the dialogue was witty and the secondary characters were extraordinary.”

—Writers Unlimited on How To Be the Perfect Girlfriend

“Pure fantasy in the finest sense, Heather MacAllister’s Never Say Never crackles with sexy banter.”

—Romantic Times BOOKreviews

“Funny, fabulous, fantastic! Heather MacAllister is at the top of my must-read list.”

—USA TODAY bestselling author Barbara Dawson Smith

“Smart, witty and fun…no one does it better than Heather MacAllister.”

—Award-winning author Amanda Stevens

Dear Reader,

My sister got married last year and, as her matron of honor, I happily immersed myself in all things wedding, including the hunt for the perfect dress. And I learned a very important thing: fitting-room curtains and flimsy doors are not soundproof.

As I waited in changing rooms and salon viewing areas, I overheard brides talking about everything. By everything, I mean the groom and sex. The more time brides spent trying on wedding dresses, the more indiscreet they became. Then I wondered if the grooms were talking, too. And what would happen if the bride and groom overheard each other.

The result is my first book for Harlequin Blaze, Undressed. I hope you enjoy these four stories, which explore what could possibly happen when you’ve have four talkative couples—and a very thin wall between the fitting rooms of a bridal salon and the tuxedo rental store next door.

I’d love to know what you think of my first Blazing endeavor. If you’d like to learn more about Undressed, you can visit me at www.HeatherMacAllister.com.

Best wishes,

Heather MacAllister

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Heather MacAllister lives near the Texas gulf coast where, in spite of the ten-month growing season and plenty of humidity, she can’t grow plants. She’s a former music teacher who married her high school sweetheart on the Fourth of July, so is it any surprise that their two sons turned out to be a couple of firecrackers? Heather has written more than forty romantic comedies, which have been translated into twenty-six languages and published in dozens of countries. She’s won a Romance Writers of America Golden Heart Award, Romantic Times BOOKreviews awards for best Harlequin Romance and best Harlequin Temptation, and is a three-time RITA ®Award finalist. When she’s not writing stories, Heather collects vintage costume jewelry, loves fireworks displays, computers that behave and sons who answer their mother’s e-mail. You can visit her at www.HeatherMacAllister.com.

HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

981—CAN’T BUY ME LOVE

1014—FALLING FOR YOU

1025—NEVER SAY NEVER

To Pam Menz Baker and the XromX Pursuit group

Prologue

UNSTRUNG

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

UNVEILED

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

UNINHIBITED

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

UNBRIDALED

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Epilogue

AT 9:20 P.M. on a Tuesday night, after trying on forty-three wedding dresses over three bridal-salon appointments during which her entourage of eight consumed several bottles of domestic sparkling wine, Cara Brantley at last found her perfect wedding gown.

Beth Ann Grakowski, aka Elizabeth Gray of Elizabeth Gray Bridal Salon in Rocky Falls, Texas, lived for such moments. The look of a dream matching reality…followed by the sentimental tears…the happy smiles…the hugs…the healthy profit when a designer gown sold…she loved it all. Someday, it would be her dream matching reality, her sentimental tears, her happy smile, her fantasy wedding financed by years of hard work…but until then, by golly she was going to make sure as many Texas brides got their happily-ever-after storybook wedding dress as she could.

On the way to her office to get the paperwork started, Beth snagged a leftover bottle of champagne for a private, self-congratulatory toast.

“Nooooo!” A wail echoed through the salon.

Beth Ann froze. Her clients were having a happy moment, the happy moment. There should be no wailing during happy moments.

“How could that have happened?” Mrs. Brantley’s voice rose.

Beth nearly dropped the credit card that would let Cara Brantley walk down the aisle in a strapless, crystal-encrusted mermaid gown designed by Georgia Hanover.

“It’s ruined!” sounded clearly through the wall Beth’s office shared with the large dressing room at the back of the salon.

A shudder rippled through her. Please don’t let it be the Hanover gown. She visualized rips. She visualized a string of beading cascading to the floor. She visualized Cara’s mother realizing that the number on the price tag was a 7 and not a 1 and quickly swiped the credit card.

Drawing a deep breath, she returned to the fitting room where she’d left Cara, her mother, her sister, her grandmother, assorted bridesmaids and the videographer Mrs. Brantley had hired to record a video scrapbook. Cara’s mother held the camera as she, Cara and the videographer stared at a tiny screen.

In the background, Beth heard the ebb and flow of a vacuum cleaner.

“Do you hear that?” Mrs. Brantley shouted as whoever was running the vacuum cleaner in the tux shop next door banged it against the shared wall during each pass over the floor.

Oh, yes indeed, Beth heard that. William. She was going to strangle him. She’d told him that the Brantleys had insisted on an after-hours appointment so the salon would be empty and nothing would interfere with the recording.

He knew, he knew that sound carried between the two back dressing rooms of their shops. She’d considered putting soundproof padding in, or something, but that would mean a disruption in business and, well, she didn’t want to admit it, but she liked to eavesdrop on an occasional male conversation in the tux shop’s dressing room. She’d been known to pick up a few tips on what styles men found attractive. Once or twice…okay, maybe more, she’d steered a bride away from a certain style based on a snippet of overheard conversation.

William listened, too. Every so often, hadn’t he given her a heads-up if a bride had a concern about a dress?