The Wedding Must Go On. Robyn Grady
led her to a table and when Roxy pulled in her chair, she knew Nate would appreciate their location: dead centre of the restaurant, in plain view of everyone. That second kiss had been even more unsettling than the first; neither she nor Nate needed to be tested by sharing a darkened corner tonight. Her outfit had also been chosen with those same boundaries in mind.
A ‘tailored black trousers, loose-fitting black silk shirt with matching casual vest’ combo was more ‘business’ than ‘come hither’. Spiked sandal heels were a staple with this outfit but tonight it was boots. No sheer silk stockings either. Thick, black, to the breastbone tights, as well as her ugliest bra. Who could get turned on wearing old stretched cotton? Amazing what a person found stuffed at the back of their lingerie drawer.
Roxy glanced across at the entrance—no Nate—so she filled her water glass from a centre pitcher then inspected the table setting. Skimming a fingertip over the symbols printed on her Chinese zodiac placemat, she smiled. The years indicated she was a tiger! Powerful, passionate.
Reading on, she frowned.
Restless, reckless? What sign would Nate fall under? An agile rabbit might fit. Or an arrogant monkey. She huffed and flicked out her napkin.
Bet he was a loner snake, waiting for some unsuspecting victim to mesmerize.
When he strode in five minutes later, looking drop-dead amazing in chinos and casual button-down, Roxy skulled her ice-water to keep her over-heated imagination from going up in flames. So much for the power of pathetic underwear.
His dark hair was post-shower damp and his shoulders tonight appeared even broader. He’d forgone a shave and the bristled shadow smudging his strong square jaw only served to make his presence all the more entrancing. Knowing he was near, she felt tingles race over her skin, brushing her most sensitive spots and making them glow.
Could a man grow sexier in a matter of hours?
He caught sight of her and crossed over with a fluid strong gait that had every woman in the room blindly setting down chopsticks and turning her head. At the table, he beckoned a passing waiter at the same time he dragged in his chair.
‘I’ll need something a little stronger,’ he said as she refilled her water glass. ‘Care to share a bottle of red?’
‘No alcohol for me.’
‘Need to keep your wits about you?’
She blinked at the tease glittering in his lidded blue eyes. But after her ‘luscious lips’ comment earlier, she’d allow him one ace. Frankly, she didn’t need her inhibitions weakened tonight. Not that she would admit that now.
‘I have to be in the shop early,’ she said. ‘Busy week coming up.’
‘Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.’
Before he could explain, that waiter arrived and Nate ordered a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.
‘To have any hope of enticing Greg and Marla back together,’ he said as the waiter moved off, ‘you need to speak with your friend about getting away from Sydney for a few days. Somewhere isolated where she can’t jump on the next plane out and escape before really hearing him through.’
‘Sorry.’ Shutting one eye, Roxy turned her head slightly. ‘Think I’m having auditory hallucinations.’
He spoke up. ‘We’ll need to send Greg there too, of course.’
‘Without either of them knowing?’ Roxy fought the urge to laugh. This was his plan? ‘Are you crazy? A, they’ll hate you for ever for tricking them. B, short of leading them by the nose, they’ll never go.’
‘Precisely. I’ll take Greg. You take Marla.’
‘You want me to take Marla out to some isolated destination so she can meet with Greg and verbally tear his head off again?’
‘I want to see them together so they can work through this. We’ll keep them on track.’
‘We. As in you and me? You expect me to leave Sydney, my shop, to go trekking off to God only knows where with you?’ Astonished, she sat back. ‘I have a business to run.’
‘Put someone else on at the shop.’
Roxy wanted to get up and leave, then and there. He really was an arrogant son of a …
Dragging down a calming breath, she put her thoughts back on track.
After Violet’s deposit this afternoon, the books were almost square. When the minor alterations were done and the dress delivered, the balance would put her business back in the black. That didn’t mean she could afford to slack off. The economy was dead. People cut corners, even on must-haves like a perfect wedding dress. She had to keep her eye on the bottom line.
‘If you need some funds,’ he said, as if reading her thoughts, ‘to see your way through, I can help.’
‘You really are mad if you think I’d accept anything from you.’
‘You’re being obstinate.’
She exploded. ‘You don’t get it. I’m not going anywhere with you.’ She crossed her arms. ‘And I’m not lying to Marla.’
‘Even if it means helping to secure her future happiness?’
‘That’s your story. I’d like to think Greg is innocent but …’
That was being naïve, gullible, as her mother had been for too long. Some guys liked it on the side, no matter how devoted they might outwardly appear, her own two-timing father, case in point.
Nate was folding a shirt cuff back up over his wrist … a bronzed, corded forearm. It looked so strong, so lawlessly masculine, she found herself remembering how completely lost she’d felt when they’d kissed this afternoon and, irrespective of knowing that she would never approve of this man, would never agree to anything he might scheme and plan, Roxy found herself asking.
‘You want me to abandon my shop and fly off to where exactly?’
‘I’m thinking the Outback.’
Her arms unravelled and she sat straighter. ‘Really?’
‘That appeals?’
‘I’d like to experience the red dust and sweeping plains at least once in my life.’
‘What about snakes and scorpions?’
‘I thought you wanted to talk me into this.’
‘Right.’ He put on a serious way-too-cute face that sent her pulse rate spiking. ‘The carols of kookaburras will wake you each morning, you’ll enjoy a panoramic view of rust-coloured hills and fiery sunsets every night, not to mention the magical allure of those endless starry nights. How am I doing?’
She inwardly sighed. Fabulous. But it was far from that simple. Remembering her disgust when she’d happened upon the picture of Nate canoodling that woman just days after he’d left her stranded on her doorstep, she pinned her shoulders back and made clear again.
‘I only want to do whatever’s right for Marla.’
The waiter arrived and poured a wine sample. Nate tasted, voiced his approval and, thoughtful, set his glass down for the waiter to fill.
‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Thought you already had.’
He ignored her tone and asked, ‘Why were you wearing Marla’s dress today?’
‘I’m a tactile person.’ She shrugged. ‘I thought wearing the gown, feeling the fabric against my own skin, might help give me an idea or two.’
‘More information needed.’
She pressed her lips together, but talking about a bad situation couldn’t make it worse, even if she was talking to a man she didn’t trust.