he pressed. ‘In her shoes, I’d rather have you than Cara’s scary Aunt Serafina holding my hand on my big day.’
If Sylvie had been here, it was exactly what she would have said and she was forced to blink hard to stop a tear from spilling over.
Not good. Determined not to lose it completely and blub, she took her eyes on a slow ride down that luscious body until she reached his feet. Then she shook her head.
‘Sorry, Tarzan, they wouldn’t fit.’ And, just to prove to herself that she was firmly back in control, she made herself look up, meet his gaze. Nothing had changed. He knew what she was doing and he wasn’t diverted. The question was still there…
Why was it a gamble?
‘And, to be honest, embroidered, beaded satin slingbacks really wouldn’t be a good look for you,’ she added a little desperately.
For a moment he continued to look at her, challenge her and she thought he wasn’t going to let it go, but finally he shrugged. ‘You think the beads would be pushing it?’
‘The bigger the feet, the less you want to draw attention to them,’ she replied.
He looked down at her boots, lifted an eyebrow, said nothing.
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