hidden beneath the baggy navy working clothes was muscular and warm, and it made absolute sense for him to hold her tighter in his embrace, both of his arms encircling the slim body.
‘It’s okay. I’ve got you.’
Amy blinked and opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again as her eyes locked onto his.
The portion of Jared’s brain responsible for sensible thought and blood pressure forgot that he was standing on a public London street, with Friday night pedestrians only a few feet away, and his breathing changed to compensate for the thundering in his heart.
His body reacted to the warm tiny woman pressed against his chest, her hands flat against his business shirt. The smell of her body and her clothing—warm vanilla, sweet spices and bread—combined with the sound of her breathing loud in his ears, blocking out the thundering traffic and street noise.
Time expanded until his arms slowly slid away from her waist and he took one step back. He drew himself to his feet, holding her steady, and she released him and stepped to one side.
Amy lifted one leg, then the other, inspecting the fabric of her trousers.
‘Sorry about that. But I’ve got chocolate icing on my trousers. And this is a nice car…’
The two men stood and stared at her in silence for a second, before Frank dared to comment.
‘I’ve had a lot worse on that leather. Dig out the picnic blanket, mate, and then let’s get going.’
‘How well do you know this wedding planner?’ Jared asked as soon as they were moving and he had regained use of his lungs and his brain.
‘Clarissa?’ Amy answered. ‘I only met her the last time Lucy was in London. Her assistant Elspeth was in charge of making the actual arrangements. I know a few girls who have used Clarissa, and they all sing her praises. That’s why I’m not worried. It’s only seven days to the wedding, Jared. Everything will have been booked and confirmed weeks if not months ago.’
He conceded it was possible with a nod. ‘Maybe, but there is no harm in checking. Especially now. I don’t want to call Lucy until I know whether there is a problem.’
‘I agree with you on that.’ Amy swallowed and tried to appear casual by looking out of the window before going on. ‘So, what can I do to convince you that I don’t need your help and am perfectly capable of sorting out any last-minute problems on my own?’
Jared considered for a moment before replying. ‘I need to be sure that this Clarissa hasn’t missed anything in her rush to elope with some other girl’s boyfriend. For me, that means going through the master checklist for the project, right down to times and places.’
‘Ah. Is that all?’ Amy laughed, and stared into his face with her mouth half open. ‘I’m beginning to understand. You cannot stand the idea that any person besides yourself and your team is even remotely capable of running a project. Am I right?’
There was some suppressed sniggering from the front of the car, which at that moment turned sharply into a tight bend, sliding Jared along the slippery leather towards Amy, who was safe on her blanket.
His hand grabbed onto her leg to steady him, and was rewarded with a smudge of something sticky between its fingers.
And the sensation that his world had been rocked on its foundation.
He felt dizzy. Light headed. He should have eaten that strudel. That was it. Nothing to do with the slim muscular thigh he had just been touching. Must be jet lag.
‘Seatbelt?’ she murmured, shaking her head. ‘Seatbelt would be good.’
He clicked on the belt, pretending to look out of the window.
Unfortunately for him at that moment he saw the reflection of Amy in the glass.
She was digging inside the bag on her knee with one hand, while the other stripped back the bandanna covering her hair. In one smooth movement her head dropped back, her eyes closed, and her fingers combed through her head of boy-short glossy brown layers.
It was the most sensual thing he had seen in a long time, and the fact that it was natural and completely relaxed made it even more remarkable.
The dark brown hair contrasted with Amy’s smooth clear skin, shining in the June sunlight streaming through the car window. She had been at university at the same time as Lucy, he thought, so she had to be late twenties…
Her head flicked up as she laughed about something with Frank, as though they had been mates for years.
Why did he find that so annoying? Frank was free to act as a chauffeur as and when he liked when Jared wasn’t in town—which was the usual case. He couldn’t have spent any more than a week in London in the last six months. Why shouldn’t he drive Lucy and her friends? That was what he had asked him to do, wasn’t it? But why hadn’t Frank mentioned Amy before? And what was the great secret they’d been talking about when she’d hugged him like that?
A police siren sounded to their right, and Jared turned as Amy flicked out her tongue to tantalisingly lick off the smudge of icing at the corner of her mouth.
She noticed him looking her way. Or had she noticed the sudden increase in temperature in the gap between them? Frank should take a look at the air conditioning in this car…
Time for him to take charge.
‘So, how do I get to see this famous wedding plan?’
Amy sighed out loud. ‘That is not going to be easy!’ She turned in her seat before going on. ‘Each of Clarissa’s clients has their own personal file. Everything and anything linked to that particular wedding is inside that pink box. Rule one is that the box should never leave her office, on pain of death. I’m hoping sweet treats will persuade Elspeth to change her mind about that, while she copes with the fall-out from Clarissa’s sudden exit.’
Jared pushed his full lower lip forward and gently inclined his head.
‘Devious. I like it. And I thought the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach!’
‘Oh, it works for ladies too! I suspect we may not be the only ones burning a path to that office to salvage wedding plans. The brides will burn me at the stake for bringing carbs, but their mothers will love it.’
‘Clearly. I can see now where I’ve been going wrong all these years. I should have been buttering up my girlfriends with sugar and cakes.’
‘Definitely.’
Amy glanced out of the window as Frank slowed to a stop. Cars were double and triple-parked down the narrow street outside the wedding planner’s office. Some more abandoned than parked.
‘Here we are. And it looks like I’m going to need that cake. Best stay in the car, boys. This is a dangerous assignment, but someone has to do it. I’m going in.’
Jared stared across Amy to see what could be so dangerous.
They had pulled up outside a row of Victorian terraced houses, once the homes of the middle classes, now used as businesses and hotels all over the city.
This
