then I’ll book us a couple of rooms in the B&B that Jack suggested,’ she said, her smile returning.
‘You do that.’ He gave her a firm nod and hid a yawn behind his hand. ‘I’m heading off to bed,’ he said, feeling the stress of the week finally catching up with him. ‘See you in the morning, Cara. And Happy Birthday.’
* * *
Cara disappeared for most of the next day, apparently going to look at potential flats to rent, then retiring to bed early, citing exhaustion from the busy, but fruitless, day.
After the tension of Friday night, Max was glad of the respite and spent most of his time working through the backlog of emails he’d accumulated after his week away.
Sunday finally rolled around and he woke early, staring into the cool empty air next to him and experiencing the usual ache of hollowness in his chest, before pulling himself together and hoisting his carcass out of bed and straight into the shower.
The wedding was at midday so at least he had a couple of hours to psych himself up before they had to head over to the Leicestershire estate where it was being held.
The sun was out and glinting off the polished windows of the houses opposite when he pulled his curtains open, momentarily blinding him with its brightness. It was definitely a day for being outdoors.
He’d barely breathed fresh air in the past week, only moving between office and hotel, and the thought of feeling the warm sun on his skin spurred him into action. He pulled on his running gear, something he’d not done for over a year and a half, and went for a long run, welcoming the numbing pain as he worked his lethargic muscles hard, followed by the rewarding rush of serotonin as it chased its way through his veins. After a while it felt as though he was flying along the pavement, the worries and stresses of the past week pushed to the very back of his mind by the punishing exercise.
For the first time in a long while he felt as if he were truly awake.
Cara appeared to be up and about when he limped back into his kitchen for a long drink of water, his senses perking up as he breathed in the comforting smell of the coffee she’d been drinking, threaded with the flowery scent of her perfume.
Glancing up at the clock as he knocked back his second glass of water, he was shocked to see it was already nearly nine o’clock, which meant he really ought to get a move on if he was going to be ready to leave for the wedding on time.
Turning back from loading his glass into the dishwasher, he was brought up short by the sight of Cara standing in the hallway just outside the kitchen door, watching him. She’d twisted her long hair up into some sort of complicated-looking hairstyle and her dark eyes sparkled with glittery make-up. The elegant silver strapless dress she wore fitted her body perfectly, moulding itself to her gentle curves and making her seem taller and—something else. More mature, perhaps? More sophisticated?
Whatever it was, she looked completely and utterly beautiful.
Realising he was standing there gawping at her like some crass teenage boy, he cleared his suddenly dry throat and dredged up a smile which he hoped didn’t look as lascivious as it felt.
‘Hey, you look like you’re dressed for a wedding,’ he said, cringing inside at how pathetic that sounded.
She smiled. ‘And you don’t. I hope you’re not thinking of going like that because I’m pretty sure it didn’t say “sports casual” on the invitation.’ Her amused gaze raked up and down his body, her eyebrows rising at the sight of his sweat-soaked running gear.
He returned her grin, finding it strangely difficult to keep it natural-looking. His whole face felt as if he’d had his head stuck in the freezer. What was wrong with him? A bit of sunshine and a fancy dress and his mind was in a spin.
‘I’d better go and take a shower; otherwise we’re going to be late,’ he said, already walking towards the door.
‘Could you do me a favour before you go?’ she asked, colour rising in her cheeks.
‘Er...sure. As long as it’s not going to cost me anything,’ he joked, coming to a stop in front of her. In her heels she was nearly as tall as him, making it easier to directly meet her gaze. She had such amazing eyes: bright and clear with vitality and intellect. The make-up and hair made him think of Audrey Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
‘Could you do up the buttons on the back of my dress?’ she asked, her voice sounding unusually breathy, as if it had taken a lot for her to ask for his help.
‘Sure,’ he said, waiting for her to turn around and present her back to him. His breath caught as he took in the long, elegant line of her spine as it disappeared into the base of her dress. There were three buttons that held the top half of it together, with a large piece cut out at the bottom, which would leave her creamy skin and the gentle swells of muscle at the base of her back exposed.
Heaven help him.
Hands feeling as if they’d been trapped in the freezer, too, he fiddled around with the buttons, feeling the warmth of her skin heat the tips of his fingers. Hot barbs of awareness tracked along his nerves and embedded themselves deep in his body and his breath came out in short ragged gasps, which he’d like to think was an after-effect of the hard exercise, but was more likely to be down to his close proximity to a woman’s body, after his had been starved of attention for the past year and a half.
‘There you go,’ he said, snapping the final button into its hole with a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll be back down in fifteen.’
And with that he made his escape.
* * *
Wow. This felt weird, being at Jack’s wedding—a friend she thought she’d never see again—with Max—her recalcitrant boss—as her escort. The whole world seemed to have flipped on its head. If someone had told her a week ago that this was going to happen she would have given them a polite smile whilst slowly backing away.
But here she was, swaying unsteadily in the only pair of high heels she owned, with Max at her side. The man who could give Hollywood’s top leading men a run for their money in the charisma department.
There had been a moment in the kitchen, after he’d turned around and noticed her, when she thought she’d seen something in his eyes. Something that had never been there before. Something like desire.
And then when he’d helped her with her dress it had felt as though the air had crackled and jumped between them. The bloom of his breath on her neck had made her knees weak and her heart race. She could have sworn his voice had held a rougher undertone than she was used to hearing as he excused himself.
But she knew she was kidding herself if she thought she should read more than friendly interest into his actions.
They had Radio Four on for the entire journey up to Leicestershire, listening in rapt silence to a segment on finance, then chuckling along to a radio play. Cara was surprised by how easy it was to sit beside Max and how relaxed and drawn into their shared enjoyment of the programme she was. So much so, that it was to her great surprise that they pulled into the small car park of the church where the wedding was taking place, seemingly only a short time after leaving London.
The sunshine that had poured in through her bedroom window that morning had decided to stick around for the rest of the day, disposing
