The Bridal Chase. Darcy Maguire
not until it was over. She couldn’t afford to take any risks.
It was her last chance. There was no way even the stupidest guy could imagine a chance meeting happening three times.
She adjusted the purse balancing on her lap, pushing down the button on the tape recorder. It probably would have been better to have hidden a camera somewhere but she had no idea how to use the one from the office, and from what Nadine said it had cost a fortune.
Roxanne straightened the umbrella and plucked a strawberry off the side of her glass, biting down on the soft flesh of the fruit, trying to think above the roaring blood in her head.
Wasn’t he going to say anything?
Did he remember her?
The silence between them stretched.
She felt a twinge of disappointment. Why couldn’t it have been easy?
She moved her glass, knocking her napkin off the bar. ‘Oh,’ she breathed, turning slightly and watching it flutter to the floor.
Cade looked up from the napkin he was doodling on, cast a look down at hers and bent down, snatching it with his long fingers. He lifted it and his gaze to her. ‘You dropped this—’
She met his golden eyes, a smile creeping unbidden to her lips at the surprise in them.
Point one for his act of surprise.
He handed her the napkin, his gaze skittering over her. ‘Aren’t you the woman with the cute pick-up line last Friday night at Harry’s?’
She nodded.
‘What did you say?’ he said, narrowing his eyes and pointing his pen at her.
She lifted a hand. ‘Oh, no. Don’t—’ The last thing she wanted was to revisit that embarrassment.
‘That I’d been in your dreams?’ he offered warmly, his gaze fixed on her face.
She shook her head, trying to laugh. ‘Okay, now it sounds ten times more corny than it did then.’
He laid the napkin on the bar, swinging his stool to face hers. ‘Fancy meeting you here.’
‘Yes.’ What else could she say? Certainly not the corny line she’d rehearsed about fate.
Cade rubbed his jaw, as though warring with himself. ‘Look, I’m sorry about leaving so abruptly.’
She waved her hands to stop him. There was no need to get down on tape that particular disaster. ‘What are you drinking? Can I buy you a drink?’
The barman delivered his Scotch. ‘Mr Taylor Watson?’
Cade glanced at the guy. ‘Yes.’
‘Message for you,’ the barman said, handing him a piece of paper.
Cade scanned the paper.
This was it. The message regarding his fiancée, saying she’d had to cancel on him, leaving him free to explore her…
She crossed her fingers on her lap, sending a prayer upward. This had to work. ‘Can I buy you that drink?’
Cade brandished his glass. ‘Thanks, but look, I’m sort of attached…’
Roxanne’s chest tightened. What now? Did that win him the grand prize of Heather Moreton?
She wasn’t used to this. This wasn’t her. She’d never initiated a date or anything with a guy. She’d taken the easy route, waiting until they showed interest in her and she was in the position of saying yes or no to them, not this way round.
She wasn’t good with rejection.
‘I hear the restaurant is good here,’ she offered, swinging back to her drink and taking a gulp. Better that she look uncommitted to the outcome…and better make sure that she appeared to have the message loud and clear, on tape.
Solid proof for the client.
‘Yes, it’s one of the best,’ he said easily. ‘The spinach and feta cannelloni is extremely nice…it’s my favourite.’
She turned to him, daring to look at the guy again. What the heck. If she wasn’t going to go all out tonight and test the man, she never would. ‘I love Italian.’
‘Me too.’
A silence descended between them. He seemed happy to sit quietly with his drink while she tortured herself over what in heaven she’d say next to get the job done right.
‘Nice weather we’re having,’ she offered, her cheeks heating annoyingly, lifting her gaze to meet his as the book said to do.
‘Yes.’ He smiled. ‘If we’re lucky it’ll rain all week while we work and be sunny for the weekend.’
‘You have plans?’ she blurted. ‘For the weekend?’ She glanced back at her drink and started plucking the rest of the fruit off the rim. ‘Not that I’m thinking of going wherever you do to initiate another very embarrassing conversation with a total stranger…’
He laughed. ‘I can’t say I thought that for a moment. There’s an exhibition at the gallery in the city with photos of architectural periods in the twentieth century.’
Roxanne nodded, thankful for the rescue from a fit of babbling that she could have drowned herself in. ‘Sounds interesting. I like the baroque period myself, but I’m guessing it’s a bit old to make it in.’
He raised his brows, nodding. ‘There are some baroque-like influences in the twentieth century architecture. There’s that building in the city—’ He stopped short, jerking his attention to his glass, swirling the contents.
She leant towards him. ‘What?’
He looked up, meeting her gaze. ‘Sorry. I get carried away.’
The urge to touch his arm was incredible. She figured that Nadine would have without hesitating, to test the guy, but she was frozen in her seat. ‘I’m interested,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re into architecture?’
‘I’m an architect.’ He offered his hand to her. ‘Cade.’
‘Roxanne,’ she said, joining her hand with his large strong one, slipping her fingers around his palm, absorbing the warmth and the strange tingling sensation.
‘And what do you do?’ he asked, wrapping his fingers around hers and holding.
Roxanne moistened her lips, fighting to stay focused. ‘I’m an office manager. Usually I work for small companies like real estate agents but at the moment—’ She caught herself. Idiot. How could she forget why she was here?
She stared at where her hand was still encompassed by his, his warmth slowly working its way up her arm and spreading through her like sunshine on a winter’s day.
Even if he appeared nice and kind now, he was still a man, like every other man, and would disappoint Miss Moreton…
She met his golden gaze. ‘At the moment I’m fine-tuning my skills at creating embarrassing silences, dishing out corny pick-up moments and collecting incredibly sad and pathetic rejections from really nice guys…who are already attached.’
‘What can I say?’ he murmured softly, the deep rumble of his voice echoing through her as he deftly pulled his hand back. ‘I’m incredibly flattered by your corny pick-up line and the fact that you’d go out of your way to offer it to me. That takes a lot of courage, you know.’
She nodded and took a long drink from her glass, savouring the sweetness and the bite that would make her feel better. ‘I know.’
‘I haven’t noticed any embarrassing silences… The quiet moments in our conversation have been opportunities for me to contemplate how beautiful you are and how many men would fall over backwards to get the sort of attention you’ve shown me.’ He leaned forward a little. ‘Can I ask, why do you