why I’m here. Lucy tells me that you have been working with her wedding planner to keep things on track.’ He casually raised one hand. ‘I’m going to be in London for a couple of days, and I would like to do whatever I can to help you with the arrangements.’ He opened his arms out wide. ‘It’s obvious that you’re busy. So you see, Miss Edler, I am completely at your disposal. Think of me as your Man Friday.’
Amy lowered the huge bouquet of stunning blossoms onto her draining board, turned slowly on one heel, and stared hard at the man standing in her bakery, her kitchen, leaning on one of her chairs in the home she had worked so very hard to create.
And burst out laughing.
A real belly laugh emerged from somewhere deep inside her, which made it quite impossible for her to do anything but hang onto the sink until the shaking had stopped.
When she had finished sniffing and wiping her eyes, she simply glanced in the direction of the startled blond hunk a few metres away and grinned.
‘Oh, I’m sorry, but that was priceless. Rather like your face right now.’
Jared opened his mouth, pursed his lips, tugged at the double cuff of his right shirtsleeve, then the left, before shaking his head and replying, ‘I’m confused. All I did was offer you some help. What was so funny?’
‘You were.’
Amy dried her hands and strolled over to the table so that she was facing him.
‘Lucy told me what you’d say. I didn’t believe her, of course. Except…well, you’ve just used the precise words she said you would—right down to the “Man Friday” offer. That’s all.’
There was silence for a few seconds. His fingers clenched and unclenched a few times around the back of the kitchen chair before there was an almighty sigh.
‘Did my precious sister also mention that I hate to be predictable?’
Amy nodded sharply. ‘She did. But I understand. You’re her big brother and you want her to have the best. Nothing wrong with that. Sorry for laughing—it wasn’t at you personally, just at what you said.’ And then she slapped her hand over her mouth as another bout of sniggering hit her.
He shrugged. ‘Perhaps I should come back tomorrow?’
Amy flapped both hands at him. ‘It’s been a long hot, busy day. Let’s start again, shall we? How about a cold drink? I might have some juice left. Or would you prefer lemonade or water?’
‘Thank you, but no. I’m still wondering what precisely you found so funny.’
‘Oh, no secret. Do you ever watch those talent shows on TV? You know—the kind where people audition to show what they can do? Sing, dance, juggle monkeys?’
‘I don’t have time to watch much TV, but, yes, I know what you mean…What has this got to do with Lucy?’
‘Last time she was in London we decided that we would both apply to be contestants on Girls Got Talent. She would show off her famous artistic skills, while I’d dazzle the judges by cooking up a hot soufflé on live TV. Simple, really.’
Amy strolled around the table and polished a pristine fork on a clean corner of her apron before placing it next to the pastry on Jared’s plate.
‘Just because I chose to become a baker, it does not mean that I handed my brain in at the gate with my company credit card.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Relax, Jared. Lucy’s hired a professional wedding planner. All I have to do is keep in touch every week and follow up on any questions they have. So far everything has gone very well.’ Amy nodded towards his plate. ‘So, now that’s cleared up, why don’t you enjoy your strudel? You look as though you need it. Long day?’
He paused before replying. ‘Yes, actually it has been a long day. And I’m sure it’s delicious, but I don’t eat cake.’
Amy shrugged her shoulders. ‘Good. Because this is not cake. This is strudel. My strudel. Which I made. Today. In this kitchen. At some silly time of the morning.’
Amy gestured towards the oven and then sat down on the corner of the table, her arms folded.
‘You made this?’ There was genuine surprise in his voice.
‘Specialty of the house. And nobody leaves this kitchen without trying my strudel. Including you. Jared Shaw.’
Amy uncrossed her arms and leant forward so that her face was only inches from his. Lucy Shaw was one of the few people Amy had called to her hospital bed when she’d needed a friend. And she had no intention of letting Lucy down when it came to the simple matter of organising her wedding.
The last thing she needed was a macho brother turning up, questioning her abilities.
Even if that brother did smell of sharp citrus with a hint of leather, and looked as if he had stepped out of a photo shoot for a fashion magazine.
In another time and place she might even had said that he was gorgeous.
He was staring into her eyes now, the corners of his mouth turned up with a flicker of something which could have been amusement, but was more likely frustration that she had not agreed to hand over the wedding plan to his PA. Yet.
The next few days were going to be demanding in so many ways. Although she hated to admit it, if there was a problem so close to the wedding it might be helpful to have someone she could call on in an emergency. Just as long as they understood who was in charge, of course.
‘I might be able to use your help on a few things,’ she whispered, in her softest, most seductive tone. ‘And then again, I might not.’
Her eyes ratcheted down to the pastry, then slowly, slowly slid up the front of his pristine suit jacket and back to his face.
‘It all depends on what you do in the next five minutes. So what’s it going to be? Jared?’
The creases at the corners of his eyes deepened, and Amy inhaled a powerful aroma of spicy masculine sweat and body spray, which was sweet even against the perfume of the fruit and nuts of her food.
She couldn’t move. There was something electric in the few inches of air between them, as though powerful magnets were pulling them together.
So this was the famous Jared Shaw, CEO of Haywood and Shaw.
At this distance she could feel the frisson of energy and strength of the man whose property development signs were outside homes and office blocks in cities all over Britain and the East Coast of America.
And he knew it.
This was the kind of man who was accustomed to walking into a cocktail bar or a restaurant and having head waiters fawning over themselves to find him the best table.
Well, not this time, handsome!
She could stick this out longer than he could.
The bell saved him. Amy’s private cellphone rang a couple of times before she dragged her eyes away from his, glanced down at the caller ID, twisted her mouth with annoyance, and stood up quickly to take the call.
Within
