SOS Marry Me!. Melissa McClone

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SOS Marry Me! - Melissa  McClone

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gaze was intent on him. “You made it.”

      “With minutes to spare.”

      “Minutes?” Serena asked.

      “A few. Were you getting worried?”

      Kane already knew the answer was yes. She seemed to keep a tight hold on her responsibilities, on pretty much everything within her sphere of influence. He happened to be the exact opposite, taking things as they came. It was probably a good thing she had an almost-fiancé. Because the way she looked, he could have been tempted into a fling. And the last thing he wanted or needed in his life was a cool blond control freak with a thing for weddings.

      Serena took the box from him. “I wasn’t worried, but I was getting a little impatient.”

      “Not the patient type?”

      “Waiting for someone to come through can be hard.”

      “Sometimes.”

      But he wouldn’t mind waiting right there. He didn’t have to want to spend the rest of his life with her to enjoy the view. What man with blood running through his veins wouldn’t want to look? Her brown and blue dress clung in all the right places. The hem fell above the knee, and her high heels made her legs look long and sexy. She defined “it” girl.

      He didn’t know whether to envy that Rupert fellow or pity him. Serena James was the type who knew how to make a guy roll over and beg. And Kane didn’t sit, stay or play dead for any woman, no matter how hot she looked in heels.

      “I do appreciate your bringing this over.” She walked toward a linen-covered table with one of the elaborate floral arrangements she’d brought with her in the center. Candles in silver holders sat on either side. She tossed a smile his way. “Thank you.”

      Her gratitude sounded genuine. Kane couldn’t tell whether she was sincere or not, but he was willing to play nice. “You’re welcome.”

      The gentle sway of her hips and the swirl of her dress hem around her legs captured his attention. The lingering scent of her light floral perfume filled his nostrils.

      Serena opened the box. “Now all I have to do is set these things out and the table will be ready.”

      The table already looked finished and fancy enough to him. A little too fancy, but probably what the monkey-suit, bouquet-tossing set expected. “What’s in there?”

      “Chocolate.” As she unwrapped each item, she placed the pieces of candy on an oval beveled-edged mirror setting on the table: three chocolate truffles shaped like three-tiered wedding cakes, small gold and silver boxes tied with ribbon, oval and heart-shaped engraved chocolates packaged in a gold base and wrapped with tulle and a ribbon, gold and silver engraved foiled coins. “No wedding is complete without something chocolate.”

      “I don’t care much for weddings, but I like chocolate.”

      Her eyebrows rose at his not-so-subtle hint, but she tossed a coin his way.

      He unwrapped the gold foil and took a bite. Good stuff. “Aren’t you having any?”

      “I don’t sample the merchandise,” she said in her cool, controlled voice.

      Yeah. Right. Probably one of those salad-and-rice-cake types who wouldn’t let herself eat a piece of candy. Too bad. She had a sweet little body, but he’d rather see a woman enjoy a meal with dessert than starve in order to fit into a smaller size.

      She hid the box underneath the linen tablecloth–covered round table displaying a four-tiered white-iced wedding cake decorated with real flowers cascading down from the top like a colorful pink and white waterfall. “All done.”

      He’d say so. Judging by this booth, The Wedding Belles was a high-class, high-end operation. From the neatly stacked full-color brochures to the maroon leather embossed photo albums, everything shouted “money.” Including Serena herself.

      Kane leisurely finished his chocolate, surveying the booth. He noticed a stack of boxes. Board games, actually. Who would have thought to make a game out of getting married? Playing that sounded more like torture than fun.

      A burgundy upholstered chaise longue sat at a right angle to a row of headless mannequins in white—the Wedding Shop of Horrors. “Looks like someone went furniture shopping last night.”

      “We contracted with a rental store here in Seattle who delivered all this yesterday.”

      “You must have worked all night.”

      She pushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Just doing my job.”

      “Don’t you design the wedding dresses?”

      “Each of us helps out where we can,” she said. “That’s why working for The Wedding Belles is such fun.”

      Fun? Serena never seemed to stop working. She moved through the booth adjusting swags of rich yellow fabric draped on the boring white panels separating each of the exhibit areas.

      Didn’t she ever slow down or rest? Even sitting on the flight she’d been working on something. He didn’t know how she did it.

      “Everything looks good,” he said.

      “Good won’t cut it. Brides are the pickiest people on this planet, next to their mothers.” She straightened a stack of brochures. “Everything needs to be perfect.”

      “Nothing’s ever perfect.”

      “Then you’ve never attended a wedding put on by The Wedding Belles.” Kneeling, she realigned the hem of one of the wedding dresses. “Or worn one of my gowns.”

      “No offense, but I don’t look my best in a train and heels.”

      She smiled up at him.

      He smiled back.

      Now this was more like it.

      “Do you need anything?” he asked. “Breakfast? Coffee?”

      Me.

      “Thanks, but I already ate and my coffee is stashed where I can get to it easily.” Standing, she peeked at her watch. “You might want to get going. The doors are going to—”

      “Welcome to the Northwest Fall Bridal Extravaganza,” the voice over the loudspeaker announced.

      “Uh-oh. You didn’t make it out in time. Watch out.” Serena smoothed the skirt of her dress. “We’re about to be overrun by the bridal brigade commanded by mothers and supported by best friends, sisters and cousins.”

      Within seconds, chattering, laughter and even shrieks filled the large hall as if someone had turned off the mute switch on the remote. Packs of women ran past him.

      “Where are they going?” he asked.

      “The first fashion show.”

      Had he agreed to model, all those women would have been running to him. Wonder what Blondie would say to that? A smile tugged on his lips.

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