Secret Millionaire For The Surrogate. Donna Alward
March
IT WAS ODD being the person in front of the camera rather than behind it.
Harper McBride smiled once more as she looked around the room, trying to keep her smile genuine, but not quite liking the feeling of being so conspicuous. She was used to being the wedding photographer, in the background and out of the spotlight. Not tonight. The silky dress clung to her curves...what she had of them. She’d always had more of an athletic-type figure and broad shoulders that made buying tops and dresses slightly problematic. The cut of this dress, though...well, it left her shoulders bare, and a slit up the leg to midthigh left her feeling adventurous but also a little awkward.
But it was Adele’s wedding day, and Harper was the only bridesmaid, and she’d do anything for her best friend.
Anything. As she’d just proved when she gave Adele and Dan their wedding present. If Harper could help her best friend start the family she’d always wanted, she was all in.
She snagged a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter and took a deep drink. She only had to get through maybe another hour of the dance and she could sneak away, back to her little bungalow and into a pair of soft flannel pajamas. That was how she preferred to spend her evenings, if she wasn’t photographing a wedding or special event. Out of the spotlight.
“You disappeared for a while.”
A deep voice sounded by her shoulder and she suppressed a delicious shiver. Drew, the groom’s brother and the best man. Harper and Drew had walked down the aisle together...and back up again when the I dos had been said, her fingers on his sleeve. Not too tightly, but not too loose, just enough to feel the warmth and strength beneath her fingertips. They’d sat next to each other at dinner, where she’d inhaled his cologne and his warm laugh had washed over her, making her smile even when she didn’t quite want to. Drew Brimicombe was sexy and charming—the kind of man she didn’t quite trust.
Drew and Dan were similar but also so very different. Accountant Dan kept his hair short and tidy and looked very James Bond in his tuxedo. Outdoorsman Drew, on the other hand, was a few inches shorter, his hair was a few inches longer, and he always seemed to have a little bit of scruff on his jaw. His tux fit perfectly, but there was a roughness to his appearance that was appealing. He wore designer threads as effortlessly as he wore faded jeans and a Henley shirt. Like the ones he’d worn to the rehearsal last night, and her mouth had gone dry just looking at him.
She half turned and smiled at him, her stomach flipping a little. “I went to talk to Dan and Adele on the terrace.”
“It’s cold outside.”
“I wasn’t out there very long.” She lifted her glass again, hoping she wasn’t blushing in the dim lighting. A small band played in the corner, some sort of jazzy blues-type music that made her think of Diana Krall. Drew’s hand touched the hollow of her back lightly, and she was ready to move away when she realized he was merely guiding her slightly to the right to make room for a server with a tray of hors d’oeuvres.
His body was too close.
Just when she was ready to say something, he stepped back. “Sorry about that. She was trying to get through and I could envision a tray of cocktail shrimp going everywhere.” He smiled at her, a genuinely friendly smile, but with that edge of ever-present impishness she had to guard against.
“We wouldn’t want that,” she replied, trying to let out a breath and calm down. For heaven’s sake, he was just a guy, and she wasn’t truly interested, even if he did fluster her with his sideways smile and twinkly brown eyes. After the wedding he’d be going back to California or wherever it was he called home.
“Hey, Harper?”
“Hmm?” She had been trying to keep her gaze on the band, but when he said her name, she turned back to him and met his eyes. They weren’t so twinkly now, but warm and melty. At least that was how they made her feel...
“If I didn’t tell you already today, you look killer in that dress.”
Heat rushed into her cheeks and she bit back a curse. “Thanks. I clean up once in a while. Even break out the high heels.” She tried a nonchalant shrug. “I’m more of a jeans and hoodie person.”
“Me, too. But it’s nice to get dressed up now and again. Especially for an important occasion like this.”
She smiled. “You’re right.”
“I know.” His confidence was at once attractive and maddening, and she snorted a laugh despite herself. When she lifted her head, he was holding out his hand. “Care to?”
He was asking her to dance. Her laughter died a quick death. She was no good at flirting, but even worse when it came to personal space and touching. She never quite knew where to put her hands or where to look. There was a reason why she spent her time behind the camera rather than in front of it. She did a good job faking it most of the time, but inside she was awkward as anything. Always had been.
“I don’t really dance.” She suspected that she had two left feet when it came down to it, though it had been ages since she’d tested that theory.
“I don’t believe you. Besides, I think it’s tradition for the best man to dance with the maid of honour.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I’m letting you off the hook.”
He still held out his hand. “What if I don’t want to be off the hook? What are you so afraid of? I promise I’m well behaved.”
She couldn’t see a polite way out of it, so she put her hand in his.
He closed his fingers over hers.
Oh, no.
The butterflies in her stomach multiplied as he led her to the parquet and folded her into his arms. His scent wrapped around them, cocooning her in a cloud of masculinity. She took a breath and let it out slowly as their feet began to move.
“This isn’t so bad, is it?” Piano and soft vocals swirled around them, lulling her closer to his chest. When she realized it, she shifted back a bit, putting more space between them.
“It’s okay,” she replied, secretly thinking it was the most wonderful thing to happen to her in months. The last time she’d been this breathless she’d been hiking near Emerald Lake and had caught a shot of a grizzly mom and cubs in the morning mist. It was one of her favorite shots, and she’d framed it and highlighted it in her studio window just off Banff Avenue.
His chest rose and fell as he silently chuckled. “Harper, you are not an easy woman.”
She looked up at him, lifting her chin. “I surely hope not.”
“I like challenges.”
“I’m not a challenge, Drew. And not a trophy.”
His eyes lit with a new light. “Thank God. I mean... I like someone who can keep me on my toes.”
He tried a small turn and she stumbled a little. His arm tightened around her