Читать книгу I Thee Bed... - Jule McBride, Jule Mcbride - Страница 8

“WHY DON’T WE MOVE into the front room again?” Edie Benning suggested, glancing between a dark-haired woman named Stacy LaPaglia and her husband-to-be, Reggie Hammer. The Darden wedding aside, business was slow, so Edie couldn’t afford to alienate even one client. She was doing her best to be diplomatic and fulfill the couple’s desires; yet, she could hardly let Stacy and Reggie remain in the conference room, perusing notes, sketches and lists pertaining to the Darden event. “Really, what we most strive to do at Big Apple Brides,” Edie coaxed, “is to make each wedding absolutely unique. I want to concentrate on you and Reggie, Stacy, on any special needs you two may have as a couple, and on your own dreams and goals….”

Stacy only moved closer to the board table, grasping her fiancé’s hand and dragging him with her as she lifted a sketch of Julia’s gown, which Edie’s mother, Viv, a seamstress, had been commissioned to help design and make. “So, this is a picture of the gown Julia Darden’s wearing?”

“Uh…yes,” Edie managed. “It is, but as you and Reggie probably understand, we’re keeping her and Lorenzo Santini’s plans as private as possible.”

“But most of the preparations have been made public in Celebrity Weddings magazine,” countered Stacy, “which is why Reggie and I are hiring you.”

“I appreciate that, but…” Vaguely, Edie gestured toward the front room again, wishing these two would take the hint, so she wouldn’t have to become more explicit. While what Stacy had said was true, other notes on the table pertained to less public matters, such as the security strategies for the Darden wedding, and that really was private. Thankfully, the notes involving security weren’t in plain view.

“Since you do like Julia’s dress,” Edie ventured, “I’ve got a sense of your taste now, and have some others I’d like to show you. In fact, in the next room, I’ve got photographs I believe you’ll be very interested in seeing, Stacy—”

Suddenly, Edie’s heart missed a beat and her voice trailed off as she glanced through the conference-room doorway, across the reception room and through the front windows. No one’s there now. And yet for the umpteenth time this morning, Edie sensed something amiss. Just now, she could have sworn someone had been at the windows, staring inside. She tried to take a deep breath, to calm herself, but it was no use. Her senses had gone on alert. All the colors in the room seemed brighter; the objects were outlined in sharper detail, except for Stacy and her fiancé, who might as well have vanished. Should she call the police?

Since October, shortly after Julia Darden’s wedding had been announced, someone had started threatening the heiress’s life. During a meeting about wedding safety, the head of the Darden’s security staff, Pete Shriver, had shown Edie some of the poison-pen letters sent to Julia, and he’d even stationed a man on Edie’s block for a few weeks to watch the shop, until Edie had convinced him it wasn’t really necessary. Being watched around the clock had only made Edie more nervous; besides, Julia was the target, and as the wedding had neared, she’d quit coming into Big Apple Brides. Lately, Edie had been going to Long Island whenever she had business to discuss, and now, with only two weeks until the day, most preparations were taking place on the site of the event, anyway, which was the Dardens’ estate.

Edie would be so glad when all this was finally over. Puffing her cheeks to blow, she exhaled, now wishing it hadn’t started to snow again. The weather had been so unpredictable that she still didn’t know whether to expect another blizzard or blooming spring flowers, come April first. One day last week, the temperature had hiked to seventy degrees only to plummet to thirty once more.

Well, everything’s going to be fine, Edie assured herself, shaking her head to clear it of confusion. And yet, she was scared. A few weeks ago, an unidentified intruder at the Darden estate had fired gunshots while Julia and Edie’s sister, Marley, had been jogging in the woods. According to Pete Shriver, the incident was probably some sort of scare tactic. As he’d put it, “If someone wants you dead, they can usually do it, Edie. But this guy’s only sending letters and shooting bullets that never seem to find a human target.” Pete had said that the bullets found lodged in the trees indicated the perpetrator had aimed high, which meant he hadn’t really been shooting to kill.

Not that such information gave Edie comfort. She was a wedding planner, for heaven’s sake. A diehard romantic. That her hearts-and-flowers business would wind up involving bodyguards had never once occurred to her.

Welcome to my life, she thought now. Her pulse was still skyrocketing, and as she worriedly licked her lips, she scanned her eyes slowly over the premises—first over the interior of the reception area, the neat desk, the muted carpet, the shelves lined with wedding-planning books. And then she looked through the windows. On one, the words Big Apple Brides were painted in gold. Draped with satin swags, both glassed cases brimmed with wedding items: champagne glasses, a hope chest, garters and bouquets. A winged mannequin wore a gown of white feathers, a bed waited in invitation, and roses were strewn across the floors. The effect was pure fantasy, inviting couples to come inside the shop and create their ultimate dreams.

There! Her heart beat double time. Yes…she recognized the man who was walking past now! She’d seen him more than once this morning. It wasn’t her imagination. He didn’t look dangerous, though. In fact, he was the picture of respectability, wearing a dark gray wool coat open over a light gray suit. His hair was short. Now he passed the window again, as if trying to decide whether or not to come inside.

A walk-in? Yes, she thought with sudden relief. That was probably the case. Ten to one, he was considering proposing to his girlfriend. After Stacy and Reggie were gone, he’d probably come inside to get estimates for a wedding. While paying for the event was the bride’s family’s responsibility, traditionally, the escalating cost of creating a perfect day was prompting more grooms to pitch in, sometimes even bearing the whole cost.

Good. Edie was so desperate for clients that she suddenly felt tears pushing at her eyelids. Not that she’d cry. Still, she simply couldn’t stand one more thing in her life going wrong. And since starting Big Apple Brides had been her life dream, she really wanted it to fly. If the guy didn’t return, Edie decided, she’d call Pete Shriver, just to make sure he hadn’t put another security man on detail outside her shop without telling her.

What a day! Months, she mentally amended. Ever since she’d been hired to plan the Darden wedding, her life had spun increasingly out of control. The latest challenge was that her assistant, Cheryl, had quit. In itself, this would have been upsetting, but Cheryl’s reason for leaving made things much worse. She’d run off with a man she’d met at Big Apple Brides—a man who’d come into the shop with his fiancé to plan their wedding. Now Cheryl was vacationing with him in St. Martin.

Unbelievable, Edie thought, suddenly fuming. Even worse, the stack of résumés faxed to her by a head-hunter had hardly turned up the perfect replacement. Besides, Edie couldn’t pay enough to attract the sort of assistant she really wanted. Before hiring the head-hunter to screen applicants, most people who’d responded to her newspaper ad had shown up with tattoos and visible piercings. One had brought her dog. Another was addicted to chewing grape gum and was furious when Edie had told her she couldn’t read novels on the job.

The man outside had vanished, so Edie turned her attention back to Stacy, who was saying, “Oh, Reggie, look, here’s the list of songs Julia Darden’s playing. I really do like her dress. I think I’d like to have one just exactly like it. What do you think, hon?”

“Please,” Edie managed, still feeling caught between a rock and a hard place. “We’re going to have to move out of the conference room—”

“But we’re hiring you because you’re planning the Darden wedding,” persisted Stacy.

“Of course,” Edie agreed, glad for the business, “but I want to help you consider all the possibilities for your own wedding. So, if we could…”

Just as Stacy replaced the drawing of Julia’s dress, a male voice sounded from behind Edie. “The dress really is stunning.”

Edie turned, and when she saw the man framed in the door, she felt as if her whole world was sliding off-kilter again. It was the guy who’d been lurking outside. He breezed past Edie, heading for Stacy with a proprietary air as if he owned the place, and Edie wondered what was going on. Was he an acquaintance of Stacy and Reggie’s? Had he been waiting for them? He was even better looking up close. Medium height, medium build, brown hair, brown eyes. A small mole by his mouth. Nothing special, but the whole package was appealing. So was the whiff of cologne he left in his wake.

Edie’s jaw slackened as she watched him shrug out of a silk-lined coat that seemed to float down the arms of his snazzy suit. He clapped Reggie hard on the shoulder, then thrust out his hand, offering a quick, rough handshake. “Name’s Seth Bishop.”

Which meant he didn’t know Stacy and Reggie, after all.

Nevertheless, he slid his hand under Stacy’s elbow as if they’d known each other for years, then began steering her gracefully from the room, staring down at her from the vantage point of comparable height and sending her an utterly disarming, charming grin that clearly mesmerized the woman. As he passed Edie, he winked, and while she was still gaping, he took advantage of her stupefaction to deposit his coat into her arms.

“Thanks,” she managed.

“No, thank you,” he said, guiding Stacy across the threshold and into the next room, where Edie had been trying to direct her for the past ten minutes. As Edie and Reggie followed, the man calling himself Seth Bishop said, “That dress is great, but Julia Darden’s one of those tall, skinny, willowy types…”

Stacy, who’d looked as if she’d been placed under a spell a second ago, now glanced over her shoulder at Edie, frowning. “Are you saying I’m not—”

“Scrawny?” He laughed. “Absolutely not.” Turning, he winked at Reggie. “Julia’s beautiful, yes. But in a sort of supermodel way. She’s got a figure that needs to be fleshed out a bit, which is why Ms. Benning helped her choose the Empire gown you were admiring. You, however—” he glanced from Stacy to Reggie for support “—have other…” He paused delicately, as if searching for a word, then settled on, “Assets. And so, I think Ms. Benning intends to show you gowns that Julia Darden couldn’t have gotten away with wearing…gowns that can show off your figure, and—”

“You’re saying you think my figure’s better than Julia Darden’s?” Stacy asked breathlessly, chuckling with delight.

“Well,” conceded Seth Bishop. “We don’t like to compare clients.”

The man was acting as if he worked here! Unsure whether she should be furious or relieved, Edie decided it was in her best interests to simply hang up the man’s coat and start hauling down books of dress-design illustrations. The next hour passed in a blur. Seth Bishop, whoever he was, was a real hard-sell animal. He appealed to the couple’s vanity and their pocketbook, but his methods hardly mattered because by the end of the hour, Stacy and Reggie were well on their way to creating their own dream wedding, rather than copying Julia Darden’s.

Edie and this stranger had worked together beautifully, too, hand in glove. After setting Stacy and Reggie up with a future appointment, the man even showed the couple to the door, and when he shut it behind them and turned around to face her, Edie found herself laughing, dryly saying, “Should I be impressed or terrified?”

He raised a thick, dark eyebrow, his lips upturning in a warm, inviting smile, his dark eyes sparkling. “Terrified? Of me?”

Leaning against the desk behind her, Edie crossed her arms, surveying him a long moment. Unable to wipe the smile from her face, she felt strangely glad this was one of the mornings she’d gotten up early to wash and blow-dry her shoulder-length blond hair. She was wearing one of her most flattering suits, too, with a tailored A-line skirt and a dark brown forties styled jacket. She nodded. “Yeah, terrified. And resentful,” she added.

He chuckled, his brows knitting in an expression of mock concentration, as if he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about. “Of moi?”

“I’d been trying to get Stacy out of the conference room for ten minutes when you got here.”

“True. I was standing outside watching. But in your defense, she was a tough case. It seemed better to use guy charm.”

Edie nodded. “Hmm. Guy charm?”

“My specialty.”

From what she’d seen, she wouldn’t disagree with him. “And you are?”

His mouth curled further, twisting into one of the most disarming smiles she’d ever seen. “Besides charming?”

“The charm piqued my interest,” Edie assured. “Now I need more information.” She paused. “I did see you outside, and I thought maybe…”

“Yes?”

“You wanted an estimate or something.” Up close, it seemed obvious that the guy couldn’t be connected to the Darden’s security problems. Oh, Edie had seen enough movies to know that even serial killers could fool people. But she didn’t really believe that. No, she trusted her own gut instincts about people, and this guy exuded basic decency. More than Edie had ever sensed upon meeting someone new, in fact. Everything about him—the way he carried himself, the tasteful way he was dressed, the depth of warmth in his dark brown eyes, his easy sense of humor—made her sure he was trustworthy. He did, however, look puzzled.

“Estimate?”

She nodded. “For a wedding.”

A brief pause ensued, during which his luscious eyes widened, then he suddenly burst out laughing. “You thought I was getting married?”

Edie hardly wanted to examine her motives, but the truth was, she’d never been so instantly attracted to a man in her life as she was to Seth Bishop. One look—and she’d started imagining how he’d look with his clothes off. If the truth be told, she’d been through a dry spell. The last man she’d dated had wound up with her sister, so she was due some excitement. She considered. “Marriage,” she repeated. “Is that such a strange idea?”

“Uh…yeah,” he deadpanned as if he’d never heard of anything so ludicrous. “Especially since I don’t even have a girlfriend.”

Edie tried not to overreact to the information she’d been fishing for, but her chest got tight. “Then what are you…”

He looked surprised once more, then blinked as if he’d just come to his senses and swiftly slid a palm against his shirt, into the side pocket of the suit and withdrew a folded paper, which he handed to her. “Sorry. I thought the agency told you I was coming.”

“Oh,” she managed as she studied what turned out to be his résumé, barely able to believe it. “You’re applying for the assistant’s job?”

“I guess we had a kind of action-oriented interview.”

As she scanned the résumé, she couldn’t believe her luck. He was from Ohio, and in addition to graduating from art school, he’d worked as an art director at two high-profile companies. He also had experience in sales, which, given his handling of Stacy and Reggie, was pretty obvious.

“I won’t lie,” he said quickly. “I lost my last job in a company reorganization. There were no hard feelings, and I got a good severance. So, I am interviewing for more professional positions, in keeping with my background.”

“And you’re interested in Big Apple Brides because…”

“I want to hold out for a dream job, so I don’t expect it to materialize overnight. I figured while I interview for something more permanent, it wouldn’t hurt to keep a hand in, do some lighter work. The agency thought some of my skills might be of interest to you….”

It was almost too good to be true. Right now, all Edie really needed was support staff while she finished the Darden wedding. Then she’d have more breathing space. Not to mention more money, to hire the sort of permanent assistant she most wanted. She eyed Seth Bishop again. Pete Shriver had talked to the headhunting agency at some length, regarding how background checks were to be conducted, since employees would necessarily come into contact with Julia Darden. Also, Edie was to fax Pete the résumés of any applicants she hired, so she wasn’t too worried about Seth Bishop in that respect…. “I know the agency checked your references,” she said anyway, “but I’ll need to do so again.”

“Of course.”

He didn’t look the least bit nervous, which was a good sign. “If what you did here over the last hour is indicative of how you work, we should get along famously,” she found herself saying.

“Then why don’t you check my references and call me. I’m ready to start whenever you want me to come in.”

“Deal.” Edie stuck out her hand, and when his found hers, she was hardly surprised to feel heat flood her system. Nothing more than the casual touch made her every last nerve dance. And her last thought as he shrugged into his coat and walked through the door and into the swirling snow was that she would never be able to work with him without taking him upstairs to her apartment—and to bed.

“STACY WAS DEFINITELY right about one thing,” Seth said several days later as he helped Edie sort through the sketches on the board table. “That really is a beautiful gown. You and your mother did a great job.”

Edie couldn’t help but lean closer to him, drawn by the scent of his cologne and animal magnetism she simply couldn’t resist. “Actually—” Deciding to take a break, she pulled out a chair, seated herself at the table, then looked at the picture again. “That was my own dream gown.”

Following suit, Seth rolled a chair across the gray carpet and sat next to her. “Yours?”

Nodding, she took a deep breath, relaxing. “Thank you for everything,” she inserted, instead of pursuing the conversation. It was their third day on the job together, and Seth really had turned out to be a godsend. Sexy, too. He’d done nothing to diminish the initial sense that she’d like to get into bed with him. Today, he was wearing a dark charcoal suit, blue shirt and an unlikely lime-and-red-striped tie that looked so fabulous it prompted her to say, “You do have an amazing eye for color, Seth.” She’d met few people who could mix and match color and fabric with his unique flair. “Are you sure you want to go back into art directing?”

He laughed. “Offering to make me a partner?”

“Maybe,” Edie teased. “You can go, by the way. It’s about five. I’ve got to stick around for the mailman. I’m his last stop, and he brings in the papers, which should be in the outside box by now.”

Seth made no move to leave, but merely surveyed her, an easy smile still on his lips. “You’re evading the subject.”

“Which was?”

He pointed at a sketch. “The gown.”

She shrugged, blowing out a wistful sigh. “Honestly, a lot of Julia’s wedding includes elements I used to fantasize about when I was a kid. Things I thought I’d have in my own wedding. Even the music. My sister Bridget’s fiancé, Dermott, finally agreed to arrange some pieces. And I’d always thought of asking him, myself.”

As if sensing the conversation was headed for deeper turf, Seth rose, circled around to a counter and poured them both cups of coffee, fixing hers with cream and sugar, the way she liked it, then he returned, setting hers down before reseating himself. “Why didn’t you save the ideas for your own wedding?”

She considered. “You mean, besides the fact that I don’t have over a million dollars to spend?”

“Yeah.”

“And besides the fact that I’ve just about given up on ever having a wedding?”

He stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”

She thought a moment, then flashed him a smile, deciding to come clean with the whole story. “Maybe I should tell you the real reason I opened Big Apple Brides. You see, rumor has it that a Southern belle named Miss Marissa Jennings put a curse on all the Benning women during the Civil War when her own love life didn’t work out,” Edie began, then she plunged into the wealth of family stories told since time immemorial about the wedding curse, including the fact that Joe Benning wasn’t her biological father, since her mother had previously been married to a man named Jasper Hartley.

“You don’t remember him at all?”

She shook her head. “Nope. I was too little when he died. Bridget had just been born. And Mom met Joe shortly afterward, so he’s all I’ve ever known as a father. It’s been great. Our only real legacy from Jasper Hartley is the family’s wedding curse.”

“And because of this, no Benning woman will ever marry?”

“So the stories go.”

“Not very nice of Miss Marissa,” Seth commented, clearly warming to the tale. He leaned forward as if to hear better, coming so close that their knees touched under the table. He pulled away, but not before a white-hot jolt shot through Edie’s system.

“No, it wasn’t,” she agreed. “Anyway, there are plenty of family stories about the ghost of Miss Marissa, so from an early age, I thought opening a wedding-planning business might…”

“Bring the Benning women better marriage Karma?”

She sipped her coffee, then made a show of smacking her lips, tilting the cup and toasting him since it tasted absolutely perfect. “Exactly.”

Seth squinted. “But I met your sisters. Marley and Bridget, right? They’ve both stopped in. I thought the two of them said they were engaged.”

Edie grinned. “See. My plan worked.”

“Touché.”

Her smile tempered as she glanced across the threshold and to the outer windows where twilight was waning and the snow was still falling. Her business was situated on the corner of Hudson and Perry streets and her parents, Viv and Joe, lived at the other end of the block. She had a sudden urge to call her mother, to ask if she could bring Seth Bishop home with her for dinner—assuming he’d want to come, of course. Her grandmother, fondly known as Granny Ginny, was still visiting, and she imagined Seth would enjoy the older woman’s company.

Turning her attention to him again, she startled. He’d been looking at her with…intensity, she realized. Longing. Raw sexual need. For just a second, she felt completely unbalanced, although she shared the sentiment, she was deeply attracted to him, and more than once she’d fantasized about going to bed with him. It was unwise, since they were working together, yes. Still, the more she got to know him, the more she wanted him. She also realized his knee had found hers under the table again. How long had it been brushing hers?

“Uh…” Somehow, she found her voice. “My sisters are engaged, but they’ve only became so recently.” Continuing, now speaking almost by rote, since his proximity was claiming most of her attention, she caught Seth up on how her life had spun out of control after Sparky Darden had hired her. She told him about how Celebrity Weddings had talked her into going on a reality show called Rate the Dates with a man she’d been dating at the time, named Cash Champagne, and how he’d only been using her to get close to Julia Darden, since he was Sparky Darden’s estranged biological son and Julia’s half brother.

“That’s a wild story,” Seth agreed.

“Nothing compared to what happened after that,” assured Edie, reporting that things had gone further awry since Marley, while attempting to cancel Edie’s appearance on the reality show, had wound up being a contestant, herself—something that had led to her engagement with Cash. And then Bridget, determined to put an end to Miss Marissa’s wedding curse on the Benning women for good, had talked her longtime best friend, Dermott, into traveling down South to an old family plantation in Florida, owned by their grandmother, to do some ghost-busting.

“According to Bridget, she rid the plantation of Miss Marissa, not to mention her curse, which is how Bridget wound up engaged to Dermott.”

“Again, impressive,” said Seth.

“And why I know no more adventures can come my way until after the Darden wedding,” Edie finished, chuckling softly.

“I’m not sure I follow. Why?”

“I’ve had my quota,” she explained.

He was smiling. “Well, you don’t seem cursed to me.”

“Believe me, my own luck’s been lousy.”

“You found me.”

“True. But only after the videographer for the reality show I mentioned found out Marley had taken my place.” She paused, suddenly pondering the wisdom of going into all this with a man to whom she was so attracted. “I hate to admit this, but they…they, uh, announced on national television that my love life was in the toilet.”

His shoulders shook with merriment. “You’re kidding me, right?”

She slowly moved her head from side to side. “I wish.”

“Tell all.”

She plunged into the story of how the videographer, a man named Vinny Marcel, had exposed that Marley was pretending to be her twin on the show. “Marley won, and I did get a cut of the money,” she said, finishing, “and I put it into the business. Still, the publicity really wasn’t good. I probably gained as many clients as I lost. And I lost some couples when Cheryl ran off with one of our customers, too.”

“I promise I won’t abscond with a bride,” Seth offered.

“I’d appreciate it,” said Edie. “I know it’s tough on you. I could see you eyeing Stacy.”

“Oh, please.”

She laughed.

“Seriously. Did you really use ideas for your own dream wedding while planning Julia Darden’s?”

She glanced over the sketches and photographs on the table. “Sure. This wedding could make or break my reputation, so I’ve wanted it to be perfect. And like most little girls, I always had a fantasy about what the ultimate wedding would be like.”

“You do have great taste.”

Edie looked at the picture of the dress, her heart suddenly aching. Seth was the only one who knew it had been her own dream outfit, and now unexpectedly, she almost wished she hadn’t shared the design with the heiress, although she did like sharing her thoughts and emotions about the matter with Seth. Once more, her eyes drifted over him, and her internal thermometer climbed like a fever. She sighed. “Julia came to the table with so few of her own ideas,” she admitted as she surveyed the dress for the thousandth time, admiring a square neckline calculated to show off an ample swell of breasts. Long sleeved, it was made of gossamer fabric, hand sewn with pearls and white crystals. “My mother helped with my initial vision of the design,” she added. “And as I told you before, she’s actually making it.”

“She’s good. If anyone I know ever needs a dress designer, I’ll mention her.”

“She’d love to hear you say it.”

“And the ring?” he prompted.

“Bridget designed it. Here are the others.” From under a stack of papers, Edie lifted out Bridget’s discarded designs, letting Seth leaf through them.

Suddenly, he stopped and said, “This.”

Edie could merely shake her head. At least once an hour, she found herself wondering if she’d met her soul mate. For the past three days, she’d barely dared to think it, and yet, their tastes and attitudes seemed impossibly in sync. She eyed the star-shaped setting of diamonds. “That’s the ring I imagined for myself,” she admitted. “And see—” She lifted another drawing. “The flowers are interwoven with lavender glass beads. Lavender’s both my and Julia’s favorite color, as it turned out. My dad, who works as a caterer, is making the cake. It’s—” finding another picture, she put it before him “—this.”

“Yum,” Seth offered, taking in the four-tiered confection.

“Well,” Edie conceded, her voice hitching with excitement. “You can do more with cakes. I even saw one recently that looked as if it was made of leather, but I really want this wedding to be almost all white. The tablecloths are white. The tents, just in case the weather warms up and we can move outside. I really hope it materializes the way I’ve imagined it. If so, it should be traditional, classy, beautiful.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help.”

“There’s a matching bracelet that’s attached to the ring by a thin chain,” she found herself continuing. “It’s only to be worn for fancy events. Like the wedding. Or maybe parties Julia attends in the future. And the necklace was to be—” rummaging, Edie found yet another drawing “—this simple long strand of diamonds that loops once around her neck.”

“Wow.”

Edie shrugged. “Julia chose another ring, but she’s wearing the necklace. Still, she’s pretty ambivalent.”

Seth shook his head, as if to say that was a shame.

“She would have been happy with no ring at all,” Edie said in her defense. “Julia’s a simple person, really. She’s madly in love, and just wants to settle down and start a family with as little fanfare as possible.”

“So why the…”

“Expensive, beautiful three-ring circus?” Edie finished. “Her father pushed for it. Still, I think once all is said and done, Julia will be happy she and Lorenzo have the memories.”

When she glanced up, her eyes locked with Seth’s. This time, he didn’t look away, and Edie simply couldn’t. Her lips parted as if in anticipation, and she drew in a quick, audible breath. Simultaneously, she was aware Seth Bishop had registered her response. No doubt, he could guess that her heart was hammering again. Maybe he saw the pulse that was ticking too fast in her throat. Or felt the sudden jerk of her knee against his. And while he couldn’t feel the heat pooling in her belly, or the sudden swift pang at her feminine core, maybe he could guess at it.

“What about your memories, Edie,” he murmured.

Vaguely, she wondered if this was really happening. One moment, she’d been discussing Julia’s wedding with her new assistant, and the next…

“My memories?” she managed.

“Definitely,” he said, “I don’t think you should give up on having a wedding for yourself that’s every bit as beautiful.”

Given the way he was looking at her, she almost felt as if he was proposing. It should have been unsettling, and yet such quick intimacy coming from this man, wasn’t. With every passing minute, he seemed more like her perfect match. They were both morning people. Meat-and-potatoes people. Headache rather than stomachache people. And they both liked imported beer and fine wines. They took their coffee exactly the same way, and had read most of the same books. Most importantly, when it came to talking about weddings—colors, fabrics, music, meals—Edie had finally met someone with whom she could really talk shop. They were both on the same wavelength, and during conversations, they nearly stumbled over themselves, each trying to get words out first.

What about your memories, Edie? Had Seth Bishop really just said that? Feeling as if she was in a daze, Edie considered Bridget’s ghost-busting trip once more. Had her sister really ended the wedding curse that had haunted the Benning women for years? Was it Edie’s turn to find love now?

It seemed so crazy. But why? Every woman had to meet her true love somewhere. Why shouldn’t this be Edie’s moment? Why shouldn’t this dark, snowy evening be The One? Her chest feeling tight, Edie leaned forward, wondering how he’d respond if she just pressed her lips to his….

She had a sudden urge—apropos of nothing—to just ask him to sleep with her. It was a risk, yes. But not knowing how Seth Bishop’s flesh would feel pressed to hers seemed like a risk, also. She imagined herself saying something like, “We’re both attracted, so do you want to skip all the usual preliminaries and come home with me?” The thought made her smile.

And then, over one of his shoulders, she saw the mailman at the door. “Oh—” she gasped, feeling suddenly flustered. “The mail. The papers. I forgot.”

He leaned away, looking as affected as she at what might have been a near kiss, then he pursed his lips as if suppressing a full-fledged grin, his eyes dancing with awareness. “Good,” he deadpanned. “For the last few minutes I’ve done nothing but wonder what was happening in the world at large.”

Clearly, that had been the least thing on his mind. “Me, too,” she agreed. Laughing, she playfully swatted him as she stood, swinging her hips more than necessary as she headed for the front door to meet the postman.

“Here’s two packages you need to sign for,” he said. “And all today’s papers.” After she’d signed, she took the parcels inside, set them on the reception desk, then looked at the front page of the Post and groaned. “Great,” she muttered. At least the subject matter wasn’t Julia. But maybe this was worse. Lorenzo Santini was buck naked in a locker room, and pretty well hung, Edie thought, judging by the size of the soft-focus fuzzy area meant to mask his private parts. He was deeply engaged in conversation with a woman other than his fiancée, and the headline said Darden Wedding Called Off? Why hadn’t Pete Shriver called to let Edie know?

“I really can’t believe this,” she murmured, distracted when Seth sidled behind her. Nothing more than feeling Seth’s chest brushing her back, the scent of his cologne and his breath on her neck was enough to make her forget the Darden wedding entirely, even though it had been her sole obsession for months. Seth really was just too good to be true. When Pete Shriver checked his references, he’d done so to protect the interests of his own client, Julia, but Edie was benefitting, also. How many women had a top-notch professional check out a potential boyfriend, after all?

More than potential, Edie decided as she turned toward Seth. He was close enough that she was nearly in his arms. The air between them spiked with raw heat.

“You know how I told you about Vinny Marcel?” she said, turning the Post so that Seth could see the photograph and headline. “The videographer from Rate the Dates who exposed how Marley took my place on the show?” she clarified.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well, I mention Vinny because there’s only one person I hate more than Vinny, for making my life a living hell.”

“And he is?”

“A guy named Jimmy Delaney.”

Suddenly, his sexy dark-eyed gaze seemed so intense that Edie felt as if the air had just been sucked from the room. “You’ve heard of him.” Angling his head, he leaned closer and for a second, she was sure he was going to kiss her now. Instead of answering, he said huskily, “Why don’t we talk about all this over dinner? I’m starved.”

Slowly, she licked her lips, staring into eyes that were but a hand’s breadth away. “Sure. I’m starved, too.” For you, she added silently, suddenly thinking she might really proposition him tonight.