here on a personal basis.’
He stared at her, his mind racing. Personal? How personal? There was no way he’d forget those deep dark eyes, those full red lips, her smooth tanned skin or her slender body, with curves that itched to be explored.
His body heated.
‘I’m a proposal planner. Mr Thomas Steel asked me to come and tell you about my service in the hope that I could assist you in giving his daughter a memorable proposal of marriage.’ She leant forward and handed him her business card.
‘Marriage?’ he echoed, his mind numbing. He took the card and stared at the words on it, trying to clear his head.
Had old man Steel got sick of waiting? He was always on about how old he was getting and how he wanted to see grandchildren before he died. Rick tensed. Had he and Kasey reached the end of their ruse? He hoped not.
‘Am I in the wrong place?’ Tara glanced at a page in the folder. ‘No. This is right. You are Patrick Keene, aren’t you?’
He stared at her. ‘Yes, but…’ A proposal planner? He crossed his arms over his chest, clenching his jaw against the rush of blood to his ears.
How could anyone think that a successful and extremely competent businessman like himself couldn’t handle a task as simple and straight-forward as a proposal of marriage?
Was old man Steel pulling his leg? Or didn’t he think that he was up to the task on his own? Or was he just tired of waiting for his daughter to come up with a family and figured he needed a shove in the back.
Unbelievable!
She pulled a chair away from his desk, positioning it to face him where he stood and sat down, crossing her long legs and propping the folder on her lap, her skirt riding up her smooth thighs in a most discomfiting way.
She offered him a small smile. ‘By the look on your face I’d have to say Mr Steel hasn’t broached the subject with you yet.’ She glanced at him with questioning eyes. ‘I’m sorry. Mr Steel came to me and requested that I come and have a chat with you, to let you know that help is available…’ Her voice faded. ‘If you need it.’
He lifted his eyebrows, shooting the woman a sardonic look. There was no way in hell he’d need help to propose!
The woman bit her bottom lip. ‘I understand you’ve been going out with his daughter for some time now?’
‘Yes,’ he said tightly.
‘Of course, the most important thing is that you propose to your girlfriend in your own time, when you’re ready…’
Rick let out the breath he’d been holding. ‘Thank you. I appreciate your consideration. I think Thomas Steel may have forgotten that particular point.’ And several others, especially that people prefer to live their own lives, not ones engineered by him.
‘I did try to tell him.’ She shrugged. ‘But he insisted.’
‘I know what that’s like.’
She licked her lips, staring at her folder. ‘I agreed to come and let you know that proposal planning is a new service that offers busy men like yourself the opportunity to employ a person—’ she touched her chest ‘—like me, to help you with many aspects of your proposal.’ She tapped her pen against the page in front of her.
‘I don’t need help proposing.’
She didn’t hesitate. ‘I understand that perfectly, but will you hear me out? Most men do rush into the proposal, following whatever misconception they have, mostly from television, mind you. They sell themselves short and their partners. After all, the proposal is as special, if not more so, than the wedding itself—a declaration of love and commitment that sets up your life together.’
Rick leant against the corner of his desk, his arms crossed, studying the proposal planner. She was nice to watch, and to listen to—and surely there was no harm in hearing her out.
She tapped the pen against her full red lips. ‘I can help you in many ways. We have an extensive library of books that you could borrow—poetry books, books of love letters and romance phrase books, if you’re having trouble with how you’re going to present the big question.’
Rick couldn’t tear his gaze away from those lips.
‘And then, of course, I can assist with all the legwork of investigating prices and possible venues for your proposal—’
He pressed his lips together to stop the smile teasing the corners of his mouth. Was she for real?
‘And then, of course, there are all the ideas on how exactly you’d like to propose—whether you want to jump out of an aeroplane and propose ten thousand feet above the world, with the wind rushing around you. Or on a tropical island in the moonlight with a thousand stars twinkling in the sky above you.’ She glanced up at him, her eyes bright. ‘Or at a romantic restaurant with the sweet aroma of exotic food and gentle music, and with her face lit by soft candlelight. Or on a yacht out on the ocean, as though you were the only two people in the world…’
He held up his hand, staring down at the planner. She was amazing! Daunting even. How could she be so cool, then suddenly light up with such passion? How could she hide it so efficiently?
That crop of hair that was standing in all directions made her all the more striking—it was hard to take his eyes off her. Off her hair, off her deep, dark eyes, off those lips and those long, long legs.
‘I think that—’ he said, swallowing hard, pushing down the rising heat in his body. ‘That although it sounds like a great idea, it’s not for me.’
She laid her hands in her lap, took a deep breath and looked up at him with cool dark eyes. ‘Of course, Mr Keene.’
He cleared his throat, trying to shake off the urge to keep her around a bit longer. ‘Thank you for coming in but I’m quite capable of handling a proposal on my own.’
She nodded. ‘I suspected that from the first moment I saw you.’
‘Sorry for all your trouble.’ He put his hand in his inner jacket pocket, grasping his wallet. ‘I’ll compensate you for your time, of course.’
She put up a hand. ‘No need.’ She slid her pen into the spine of her folder. ‘I understand perfectly. My service isn’t for everybody.’
He strode to the door and grasped the cold metal handle tightly. Much as he admired her passion, he couldn’t afford to entertain any thoughts about the woman and her service. Not now.
He held the door open. The last thing they needed was someone asking questions about his personal life, and Kasey’s.
‘Thank you for your time, and good luck,’ she said, standing up and smoothing the creases from her skirt, over her well-rounded hips and down her thighs.
Rick pressed his lips together, clamping down on the burning heat scorching through his veins. He wanted his to be the hands on her curves. Wanted her hands running over him.
She didn’t move, her eyes deep and dark and dangerously intent on him, almost as though she knew what he was
