Читать книгу SOS Marry Me! - Melissa Mcclone - Страница 11

“THE doors will open in ten minutes,” announced a feminine voice over the convention center loudspeakers.

Ten minutes? Kane scanned the large hall, balancing the gold-wrapped box he’d promised to deliver to Serena. He’d thought he had more time.

Little-Miss-I’m-In-Charge Serena had sounded really upset when she’d called and asked if the box was still on the plane. When Kane had finally found the package in the tail-cone baggage compartment and brought it over, she’d told him she’d be right out. But he was already there, wasn’t he?

And—admit it—he’d been curious to see the blonde in action. Curious enough to volunteer to deliver the box himself.

Man, was he sorry now. This wedding stuff gave him the heebie jeebies.

He might as well be standing in the middle of a wedding nightmare. Instead of fire, heat and screams, this place reeked with flowers, tulle and as much pipe organ music as the soundtrack of some cheesy Dracula movie.

A woman dressed in black with spiked red hair, flushed cheeks and a clipboard in her hand raced up to him. “Are you a fashion show model?”

“No.”

“Where could they be?” Her face scrunched, then, as she studied him, brightened. “Would you want to be one of the models?”

Kane pictured himself dressed up like a penguin and escorting models in white dresses down a runway. He didn’t mind models, but the other stuff…Not his thing. “No, thanks.”

With a frustrated sigh, she ran down the aisle and disappeared out of sight.

She wasn’t the only one in a hurry. Exhibitors rushed around, putting finishing touches on their booths and applying their lipstick. Kane didn’t see many men, not like yesterday when he’d dropped off Serena to set up, but a few guys remained. This seemed like the last place any male would choose to spend an hour. Let alone a day. Or two.

Once, he might have thought about settling down someday, but now, after all he’d seen, Kane knew better.

As he searched the booths, every company seemed to have the word wedding somewhere in its name and everything looked sort of similar. He felt lost and out of place.

“Kane.” He turned to see Serena waving at him. “Over here.”

Relieved, he walked across the aisle to her booth. Whatever panic he’d heard in her voice wasn’t visible on her face, looking fresh and rested with expertly applied makeup.

That’s right, dummy, look at the lipstick. Keep your eyes on her face. She is so not your type.

But man, she looked good in that dress.

Her 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.

Two young women walked up to her with questions about the cake on display.

The once empty aisles and booths were now crowded with women lugging ten-pound bags of bridal literature. Lots of women. Young ones, old ones…mostly young ones. Good-looking, too.

And engaged, Kane reminded himself. He didn’t do engaged women. Or even almost-engaged women, like Serena.

“Mom.” A twenty-something woman with chestnut hair wearing a green baby-doll style dress rushed into The Wedding Belles’ booth. “This is it. I have to have this dress.”

“We’ve been here two minutes and that’s the third dress you’ve said that about,” the mother said.

“Mo-om.”

Serena was speaking to two other women, but that didn’t stop the mother from interrupting the conversation.

“How much is this wedding gown?” the mother asked.

“I’m sorry, but that dress is not for sale,” Serena explained. “It will be worn at a wedding on November 22.”

The daughter’s collagen-injected, shimmery pink lips puckered like some kind of bizarre human-hybrid fish. Kane grinned to himself. Maybe this was the Northwest version of bridezilla.

“Could you make one like this for my daughter?” the mother asked, not-so-subtly showing off her designer purse and iceberg-sized diamond ring.

Despite the interruptions, Serena smiled pleasantly. “I can create something just as beautiful for her. With your daughter’s lovely figure, an asymmetrical A-line gown would be stunning. A cutaway skirt, even. And champagne embroidered lace would be a wonderful accent with her coloring.”

The bride tossed her artfully streaked hair. “We’d pay you extra for that dress on display.”

Kane would have told the mother to take her money and…Well, go someplace else.

“If you are interested in our gowns, we have a couple of samples here that can be sold off-the-rack.” Serena’s smile never wavered as she motioned to the photo albums on the table. “You might also want to make yourself comfortable and glance through the portfolio to get a taste of all our designs.”

“We might come back later.” The mother looked down her surgically designed pert nose. “Or not.”

The words didn’t seem to faze Serena. “I’ll be here.”

The way she handled herself with the appearances-are-everything, I-can-buy-whatever-I-want attitude impressed Kane. He only hoped she wasn’t cut from the same cloth. Not that it meant anything to him if she were.

As the bride stomped away, more women fawned over the dresses. Serena answered their questions not only promoting her gowns, but the services provided by The Wedding Belles, especially when it came to full-service destination weddings.

She was in her element. Glowing, sparkling, radiant.

Kane slowly backed away. He liked watching her, but this wasn’t the place for a single guy intent on remaining that way.

Serena gave a quick nod his way. He was surprised she’d noticed him leaving. He was also surprised he liked her noticing.

Uh-oh. Not good. Very bad actually.

Serena James might not have a ring on her finger, but avoiding her was the smart thing to do. The right thing to do, even if he spent another night in his hotel room alone watching television. On second thought, maybe he could find a bridesmaid, sprinkled among the brides and their mothers, here with something on her mind besides marriage.

Maybe all the shiny fabrics and chocolate would put her in the mood for satin sheets and room service. And maybe that would get his mind off a certain “practically engaged” someone.

He glanced back at Serena.

Or…maybe not.

“Thanks for dinner, Malcolm.” Malcolm Rapier was Serena’s friend and former classmate from design school. She kissed his cheek, expertly avoiding his twist to meet her mouth. “It was great catching up with you.”

“Sure you don’t want to go to the party?” With his boyish grin, he looked more like one of his models than the rising star of men’s formal wear design. “I’d love to show you off.”

Serena was tempted. Talk about a looker in a stylish black suit he’d designed himself and multicolored silk tie. Almost as handsome as Kane. Where had that come from?

“I usually enjoy being shown off, but I didn’t sleep much last night.” Going out wasn’t a good idea when she wanted to yawn. Not to mention her feet ached.

“Understood. Return of bridezilla tomorrow.” He laced his fingers with hers, his hands warm and smooth like the fabrics he dealt with every day. “But if you change your mind, call me. I’ll send the limo back.”

“You’re too sweet.”

Unlike her pilot. The pilot, she corrected.

“No, you’re too sexy and look great on my arm.” Malcolm twirled her to him as if they were dancing and pulled her against him. “Any chance you’d leave Boston for Seattle?”

Serena knew exactly how the game was played…Normally she would concede, but she didn’t like the way Kane kept intruding on her thoughts. She wanted to prove to herself the pilot had no effect on her.

She looked up at Malcolm through her eyelashes. “Why would I want to do that?”

“Oh, Serena, my muse, can’t you imagine the beautiful formal wear we could create together? Paris, Milan, New York. Nothing could compete with us.”

“You’re right about that.” But Serena wanted more than that kind of partnership. She wanted true love—marriage and children. She eyed Malcolm subjectively, as if inventorying the pieces of her next design. “Would this be strictly a business arrangement?”

He lowered his mouth to her ear, his warm breath tickling her skin. “Do you think I’d ask you to relocate across the country just for a job?”

Maybe she was going a little too far here. Okay, Malcolm and she would make a stunning pair. They shared common interests and enjoyed each other’s company. Yet if she were at all interested in pursuing a relationship with him, why couldn’t she get Kane out of her mind?

His smile widened. “You’re thinking about it.”

Not really. At least not with him. She shrugged.

“You are.” Laughing, Malcolm caressed her cheek with his fingertip and kissed her forehead. “Until tomorrow, my soon-to-be Seattle love and partner.”

With that he walked out of the revolving door to hit whatever hip parties were happening that night. She wasn’t sad to see him go.

Serena’s heels clicked on the marble floor of the hotel lobby. Even after the long day at the bridal show, she felt reenergized though her body’s internal clock was running three hours ahead.

The first day of the Northwest Bridal Extravaganza had been a hit, an “in the park home run” to quote one of the Seattle show’s organizers. Tomorrow might just be a grand slam. Serena already felt like an all-star.

“What would Rupert say?”

She recognized the voice and stopped, annoyed that Kane had not only been on her mind, but was now here. He sat at a nearby table with a pint of beer in his hand, looking totally comfortable and at ease. In his jeans and long-sleeved black T-shirt, he had that carefree, I-don’t-care-what-you-think, sexy style down. Not that she thought he was sexy. Her type of sexy, that was.

Oh, she’d once been tempted by bad boys, but her sister’s experience had made Serena immune to their charms. Her sister, Morgan, had fallen in love with a guy who’d had women calling him day and night. He had no steady job nor seemed to want one. Morgan had moved in with him anyway and then married him, claiming he loved her and would change. He hadn’t and didn’t. Serena had been the one to pick up the pieces when his infidelity destroyed the marriage and left her pregnant sister devastated and alone. Their parents still hadn’t forgiven Morgan for falling in love with the wrong man and “ruining” her life.

“What do you mean by that?” Serena asked.

He motioned to an empty seat.

She really shouldn’t.

She really wanted to.

Kane pushed the chair out from the small round table with his foot. “You can buy me a drink for this morning.”

Her mouth curved. “You already have one.”

“I wouldn’t mind another.”

She did owe him for dropping off the box on time, even if he had waited until the last possible minute. She sat, grateful the moment her bottom hit the leather chair and she was no longer standing.

“Oooh,” she moaned.

His brows lifted. “You’re easily satisfied.”

She flushed. “I should look into designing a high heel that could be worn for fourteen hours straight without causing foot pain.”

“I meant the guy. For a woman who’s practically engaged, you seemed pretty chummy with Mr. Suit.”

Each time Serena heard that phrase—practically engaged—she felt as if another heavy bolt of fabric had been stapled to her shoulders. And right now she didn’t like the judgmental tone of Kane’s voice. He didn’t know her. He knew nothing about her. “Are you a pilot or a chaperone?”

“Pilot. Unattached. But if you were my girl—” his gaze traveled over her with lazy appreciation “—I sure wouldn’t want you having dinner or cozying up with another man.”

Tingles shot through her and she sat straighter. Her reaction had everything to do with being tired and nothing to do with him. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not your girl, isn’t it?”

“A damn good thing.”

Serena winced. She wasn’t used to such rudeness or honesty. She didn’t know what to say. That left her more than a little flustered. She could always be counted on to find the right words or do the right thing.

“Let me guess,” he continued. “Your boyfriend is a carbon copy of the guy you were with.”

“Malcolm Rapier is the guy’s name, and he’s a little like Rupert.” Only better. Malcolm was a better dresser than her ex. “He’s a fellow designer and a friend.”

“Who wants to be more than a friend.”

It wasn’t a question. “And you know this because…”

“I’m a guy.”

“And guys know everything.”

“You said it.” Kane raised his glass.

“Malcolm likes pretty things,” she said.

Kane took a swig of beer. “Things?”

“Women.” She didn’t know why she was wasting her time explaining things to him. “Malcolm likes to be seen escorting attractive women around. You know, arm candy.”

Which was probably why he wanted her to move to Seattle. A built-in date to take to social functions. Not exactly the strongest foundation for a lasting relationship.

Kane’s mouth quirked. “Modest, aren’t we?”

“You asked.”

“I did.” A beat passed. “So Rupert—”

“Doesn’t worry.” The words tumbled from her lips. Not exactly a lie. Her ex-boyfriend didn’t care what she did. “There’s no need.”

“You’re a one-woman man.”

“Yes, I am.” When she had a man. “I’ve never understood people who play the field.”

“As long as the individuals involved know what’s going on, I don’t see a problem with it.”

“That’s because you’re a guy.”

“Women play the field, too,” Kane said. “Otherwise, it would get mighty lonely out there.”

“Were you lonely tonight?” she asked.

“No.” He swirled his glass. “I had dinner with a lovely bridesmaid who had only one thing on her mind.”

“What was that?”

“Becoming a bride.”

Serena laughed. “You don’t want to get married?”

“Nope,” he said. “Marital bliss isn’t for me.”

She wasn’t surprised. He didn’t look like husband or daddy material. But if a woman were looking for a temporary lover instead of something more permanent…

“What do you want?” Serena asked, curious.

He got a faraway look in his eyes. “Freedom.”

She’d never known freedom in her entire life. She was always working toward something, fulfilling an obligation or meeting a responsibility. “I’m sure that must be nice.”

“You should try it sometime.”

Temptation sparked. And then she thought about her parents. She couldn’t do anything to upset them. “Not my style.”

“Mr. Suit is your style?” Kane asked.

“Pretty much.”

“Too bad.”

“Not for Mr. Suit.”

He nodded then stopped. “Except for Rupert.”

“Ah, yes. Rupert.”

“Women like you need to open your eyes,” Kane said. “The perfect guy could be right in front of you, but if he wasn’t your ‘style’ you’d walk right by and miss your chance.”

“Love will find a way.”

Kane studied her. “You really buy into all this wedding stuff, don’t you?”

“Completely,” she said.

“Well, then.” He raised his glass to her. “I’m sure you’ll find exactly what you’re looking for.”

“You, too,” she said. “A juicy piece of eye candy like yourself must have women falling at your feet.”

“Pretty much.”

A smile erupted across Kane’s face. The effect—devastatingly charming. Serena moistened her lips, trying not to stare.

“Juicy, huh? Thanks.” He placed his empty glass on the table. “It’s not often I get a compliment from an esteemed piece of arm candy.”

“It’s not often I give them.” Uh-oh. She was flirting. But she kind of liked how it felt. “Do you want that drink now?”

“I’ll take a rain check.”

A twinge of disappointment ran through her. Ridiculous.

Serena was just having a little fun. Nothing more. She knew what she wanted to find. It sure wasn’t Kane Wiley.